The Search for Terror (ONC 2021)

Chapter 12

      "Queen," Warrior Bashar said suddenly, not two minutes into their journey back to Haglaiya. When she looked to him, he didn't continue. Confused, her brows furrowed. "Permission to speak?" he asked, and she had to refrain from rolling her eyes. 

      "Yes, Warrior Bashar," she said, letting the eye roll feed into her tone instead, "You may speak."

      Awkward didn't even begin to describe him, but at least he then spoke. "I understand the necessity of travelling back again so that you can see for yourself the level of control which we left behind," he started, "But may I propose that half your men venture onward while you do so? It is not likely you will need all of us with you, and your plan involves us crossing the next border by sundown."

      'Not likely' wasn't very reassuring, but she bit back the remark. "Take the remaining sixty soldiers from your platoon and do so as you please."

      If his eyes had widened any further, she'd have reached forward by instinct to catch them. 

      "Yes, of course, thank you," Warrior Bashar said. For all his brains, he wasn't so talented with his words, clearly, she thought dryly. "Third Platoon, fall back!" 

      She didn't bother listening to the rest of whatever orders he scrambled to bark at his men. She had a more pressing matter to attend to that she was more than a half a day's walk from. 

      The terrain felt tougher to cross the second time round, though whether that was all in her head, she couldn't have said. None of her soldiers showed any signs of struggle, even if they seemed much slower now. "Stop," she muttered, taking by surprise those closest to her. Behind them, those who hadn't heard crashed into one another. Raising her voice, she held her hands out to her sides, palms down, "Just stop, all of you. Rest. Eat. Gather your strength again please." The pace was driving her crazy. 

      Facing their obvious eagerness to follow that instruction, Amaia wondered why none had asked for a break earlier. Was she not approachable? Had she not been good to them? Lately, perhaps not. 

      Sighing, she lowered herself to the ground, finding refuge between to rocks she used as armrests, her back leaning against the scratching trunk of an old tree. 

      As Saqat settled down amongst his men, she realised with a start that she'd been expecting him to sit beside her instead. More than that, she'd wanted him to. She found her mind retelling their conversation earlier, when he'd mentioned her father. Part of her needed to hear more about her parents. 

      Of course, being that they were the king and queen, part of her had heard too much, too. 

      But Saqat didn't talk of the great rulers that had loved their country fiercely. Instead, he spoke of a husband and wife, a father and mother, with a sense of humour. The whole country had felt the loss, but it was easy to replace a monarch. It was impossible to replace family and friends. 

      Forcing herself to forget about that, which in turn only made her think of it more, Amaia took a drink from her bottle and started to unwrap her day's food package. 'Did they choose which movies to watch for me, or did they really love cartoons?' she wondered as she took her first bite. 'Is there a story behind the song they couldn't help but dance to?' she asked the clouds as she scrunched up the empty wrapping. 'Who were they before I came along?' 

      Still swamped by daydreams of her parents, Amaia returned her things to one of the four soldiers tasked with carrying it all. It was impractical for all her soldiers to be weighed down by food and wrapped up in bag straps, but of course they couldn't go without food and water either. This had been her solution, and the men—two from each platoon—hadn't complained. 

      Failing to find comfort in the rocks and tree, Amaia gave up on sleep. Her mind was too busy, anyway. If all went well, would she and Issar be as her parents were? Would they, one day, have an heir of their own? 

      They were strange thoughts, ones that had never crossed her mind before. Though, suddenly, they seemed important. 

      Her head lifted of its own accord, and she realised she'd imagined Saqat telling her to get some sleep. Looking over to him, she could tell immediately that he had already fallen asleep himself. He was right though, her imaginary Saqat voice; she did need sleep. And a lot of it, if she were to walk the rest of the way back without stopping, which was of course her plan. But it was still midday, and she didn't feel comfortable taking her armour off to cool down as the others had done. 

      She shifted her arms to find damp, red patches spread down them where she'd had them resting on the burning rocks. She must have worked her men into exhaustion if they were managing to sleep in these conditions. 

      Again, Abadi's words came back to her. 'Seeing how easily he resigned...'

      It had been foolish to believe they could conquer all bordering countries in just two weeks, and she was paying the price. Tired people saw an oasis and ran towards it, dropping water bottles to increase their speed by decreasing weight, where others would notice the mirage and drink carefully from the bottles they clung to, saving their energy. All of these men had been tired of waiting for her to end a reign of terror, and she had preyed on that, painting them an oasis to run towards. 

      Hopefully there would still be some water in the bottles they'd dropped at the Haglaiyan capital.