Page 43 of The King of Koraha
She followed him to the surface. The sun hung low in the sky, beginning its jump. The gravel crunched under her boots with a crispness that matched the air temperature. A number of caravans were in the process of assembling. Long lines of wagons pulled by gamelu teams waited for the signal to begin their journey.
Rendor found their caravan and introduced Shyla to Dasan, the owner.
The man eyed Shyla. “She’s not even armed.”
“She grew up in a monastery,” Rendor said.
“Doesn’t mean she studied.”
“She’sstanding right here.” Shyla put her hands on her hips. “And I’m happy to give you a demonstration.”
The man grunted with amusement. “Welcome to the crew.” He returned to barking orders to the wagon drivers.
As they prepared to leave, Hakana rushed up to Shyla. “The King…” she puffed. “Said to…give you this.” She handed her a leather pouch. “It’s so the monks…Water Princess, and Heliacal Priest…know you’re working for him.”
She opened the pouch and poured the contents out onto her palm. It was a platinum bracelet. About two centimeters wide, it had a sigil crafted from osmium. It was a crown, except the points of the crown were water droplets. Clever and beautiful.
“Najib said Captain Rendor would know how to secure it around your wrist. Does he?” Hakana asked in concern.
“Yes, he does.” Memories of when Rendor locked a similar bracelet around her wrist pushed to the surface of her mind. He’d been an entirely different person then. And then another recollection followed and she almost laughed out loud. Biting down on the giggles that threatened, she gave Hakana a few coins.
“You don’t—” she started.
“I know, but we wanted to thank you for your help.”
She shot her a wide grin. “You’re welcome. Good luck.” She waved to Rendor before dashing away.
Rendor came over to her. “What did she want?”
“To give me this.” She showed him the bracelet and waited. Would he remember?
At first he scowled. Probably remembering when the old Water Prince had given Shyla his sigil to keep her safe while she investigated the theft of The Eyes. It hadn’t worked. The deacons had cut it off her wrist before they planned to torture a confession from her.
Then Rendor laughed. She loved that deep rumble.
“I was right,” he said. “You’ve gotten the King’s sigil.”
“A lucky guess. There’s no way you could have anticipated this.”
His good humor faded. “Not this. But after I met you, I thought you might inform the King about the Water Prince and return with his elite soldiers.” His gaze grew distant. “I figured they were bound to show up at some point.”
“And if they had arrived?”
“They would have killed the prince, me, and all the officers. Exactly what we all deserved.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Dasan shouted for everyone to get ready for departure.
Rendor took the bracelet from her hand and snapped it around her right wrist, adjusting the tightness. “This will open doors, but it won’t protect you.”
She wanted to counter with a sarcastic comment. After all, she was well aware that these mercenaries were not loyal to the King. But his serious expression stopped her. “I’ll be careful.”
He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.” He hurried to take up his position at the front of the caravan with Dasan, leaving her to wonder what he was really thanking her for.
Shyla found her place alongside the fourth wagon. The caravan had eight wagons, eight drivers, four guards, four muscles, sixteen gamelus, and Dasan. The caravan owners must have figured out the best ratio of wagons to guards and muscles. Four guards meant she’d have a longer shift during darkness—forty-five angles versus the twenty-five angles with Lota’s caravan. It would give her more time to practice using her magic. She suspected she’d have a greater need of her skills in Nintri.
They arrived at Nintri nineteen sun jumps later. They hadn’t encountered any trouble during the trip—no ambushes or sand pirates. When the caravan rumbled to a stop, the muscles burst into action, unloading the colorful rugs and cushions that Dasan had bought in Qulsary and hoped to sell at the market in Nintri.
“Only one market?” Rendor had asked.
