*Hey y'all. So sorry this took forever but I've been busy querying and needed a break from an R&R. This turned out longer than I expected to make up for so long between installments. I'm trying to make it worth the wait. Thank you for your patience, and as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated! I'm hoping the next part writes faster.*
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The desert was unforgiving on most days, even within the safety and comforts of the tribe. Alone and on foot, the desert was murderous.
Shani wrapped the edge of her turban around her face, blocking the sand the choked her nose and throat, her eyes closed to slits to block most of the dust. Her body perspired freely and her mouth was tortuously dry, her lips chapped with thirst. She limited her drinks to small sips, even as her body cried out for more water. Shani had thought she'd have a better chance at survival than most when she'd run given she'd lived there her entire life. The desert was teaching her a lesson.
Shani tried not to think about the oasis back at camp with all the water she could drink. It had been four days since she'd made her escape and the mountain range was closer than ever. She should make it to the edge by nightfall where there would be better shelter. Water. Maybe food. She might even be able to catch more than a few minutes of sleep. Being on the run kept her moving until she collapsed, ate, drank, and then forced herself to keep moving.
She was honestly surprised she hadn't been captured yet, and nightmares of what would await her when her husband caught up with her kept her from restful sleep. What little freedoms she'd had as Ajay disappeared when she'd been discovered. Despite what her husband said, she'd never have the same life Ajay did and she mourned the loss. It was why she run.
She also unwillingly remembered their one night together whenever she tried to rest. Memories of when he made her his lit a fire in her core no amount of frantic rubbing would put out.
She hadn't put as much distance as she wanted between herself and the tribe, but if the sheikh had sent out only a few riders to find her, she should see signs of them before they saw her and give her time to hide.
Her gaze swept the barren desert and squinted at the horizon. Nothing. Shani turned back toward the mountain, put her head down against the wind, and kept going.
The sun was sinking fast when she reached the shadow of the mountain. Shani forced herself to slow down, be alert and cautious. She did not come all this way just to be captured and she was certain there would be more travellers camped nearby. Her eyes dropped to the ground, ears perked. Sand erased tracks quickly, but the ground was a little more packed here and easier to read. Something big had come through recently. The outline of camel and horse tracks were still fairly fresh. A caravan maybe. If they were still here, she'd try to join them in the morning. They'd have animals that needed tending and Ajay would be of use to them.
No, not Ajay. He would be too well known now. She would have to create a new identity, something she'd done before, and use her skills to secure her freedom. Shani ignored the voice that whispered her old Master had promised her plenty of freedom. Freedom she was sure would disappear should he find her.
The name came to her suddenly. Oran, to explain the fair complexion she sported compared to the wrinkled, baked skin of herdsman and tradesman. Her skin was a soft gold instead of tanned leather. The rest of her history she could keep the same. No one would be able to verify most of it anyway and her knowledge and experience was what would matter most to a caravan master.
Shani crept through the small plant growth and toward the more substantial tree line. This is where she'd find the caravan, in an area with plenty of grazing land and cover. She didn't want to run into them tonight; they'd see her as an intruder. Besides, she wanted to watch them for a few hours and formulate her plan.
The campsite was easy to find. Animals are noisy to begin with, and even a large group of people trying to stay quiet makes plenty of noise. She knew there would be guards, every caravan had some, so she found the nearest tree that offered good coverage while allowing her to overhear most of the conversations.
Settling into her tree, Shani leaned back against the truck with a smile, allowing herself to eat the last of her provisions. From her listening she learned that the caravan had a lame camel and horses that lost weight and condition over the rough journey. They wanted to trade them for better, sturdier mounts. With that information and a plan firmly in place, Shani slept better than she had all week. She didn't even dream.
When she woke the next morning, Shani felt refreshed. Hungry, filthy, and her bottom and legs still hurt from the sheikh's beating, but hopeful for the first time in days. It made her problems seem a lot more manageable.
Climbing down from the tree took a lot more careful maneuvering thanks to her protesting muscles but she made it down without further injuring herself. Instead of approaching the caravan from behind, Shani headed back to the desert and circled around. She wanted to approach head on so the caravan could see her coming and not as a threat. Or a thief.
It wasn't hard to stagger into their camp, looking like an exhausted traveler. Desert hospitality demanded they offer her water, at the very least. If she could get into their camp, Oran could offer his services in exchange for food and protection.
As expected, the men saw her coming and waved her over, pressing a skin of water and a bowl of honeyed figs into her hands.
"What happened to you, friend? You look like you've had a long journey."
Shani took a long, much needed drink of water to buy time and fabricate a story that was believable but not completely verifiable, all the while studying her new acquaintances. All of the men were bigger than her which was nothing unusual, but a few of them were even bigger than her Mas-... her hus-... Shani didn't know what to call him and banished him from her thoughts. In the end, she kept her story simple.
"Thank you for your hospitality, friends," it was easier to pitch her voice low with a raspy, dry throat. "The caravan I was employed with was attacked and scattered. Then a dust storm kicked up. I was lost for days when I saw the mountain on the horizon."
"You are lucky to have survived such a journey," one of the men commented. The others nodded.
"The desert is treacherous by itself," another agreed, "and these cursed thieves make it even harder to trade."
"We barely escaped a raid ourselves, though some of our animals were injured in the flight."
