The Blue Desert

Chapter Nineteen

A look of understanding dawned on Thistle's face as he looked between the two men. It wasn't long before a frown replaced it. With a sigh, and an agility that surprised Anan, he grasped his staff and rapped the young man he called Viper on the ankles. Anan winced, remembering the blow he had used to wake her up.

The already unsteady man fell to his knees in the sand, but he did not look annoyed at receiving pain at the hands of his master. His eyes were locked on those of Silius who was in turn staring back with wide eyes. Anan thought there might be a hint of moisture in them, but it could have been the fire's shadow.

"Brother," Viper—Jhal—spoke, his voice shaky.

"Careful what you say, boy, or the next knock will be on your head," Thistle growled. "I said that I wanted an orphan, but you showed an outstanding understanding of your lessons," he continued, muttering just loud enough for the rest of them to hear. "I told them to kill the woman before she poisoned your mind." He steadied his staff and pushed himself to his feet.

Silius's eyes snapped toward him, that same crackling look in them that Anan had seen earlier; the one that made her fear for the consequences of the action he was about to perform.

"Silius," Anan cautioned, scrambling to stand up.

"Sit," Thistle ordered, his staff coming down not-so-gently on her shoulder to knock her back down on her bottom.

Silius lunged at the moment when Thistle was distracted, but the man was nimble and his vision was better than what it should have been at his age in the dark. His staff swung from one hand to the other, the top of it, the one without the blade, caught Silius in the chin, knocking his head back with a snap that made Anan cringe.

Silius caught himself before he fell, staggering backwards to regain his balance and blinking the darkness from his eyes. "That woman," he began, his voice dangerously low, "is our mother."

Thistle began to spin the staff in his hand, slowly, meditatively. Suddenly, his face broke out in a grin. "So this is more interesting than I thought it would be. First, the Vasdin puts aside our differences to ask for my assistance, and then I meet a man still crying for his mother." He chuckled, a low sound that rivaled Silius in its threat.

Anan sat frozen in place. This was no longer about her, and she had nothing to do in such an argument. There was nothing she could do to assist Silius now, but her blood boiled. This man was evil.

"What do you want?" Silius questioned.

Anan could see a welt spreading where the staff had hit his face, and she looked away. Her gaze fell on the twine that tied her hands together. She could feel her mother's tiara against her side, and she had an idea. As quietly as she could, she pulled the flap off of her bag, and began to saw the rope against the point of the tiara.

Thistle's eyes were blazing now, not from anger, but amusement; he was enjoying himself. "I told you want I want, but now that is not all. I want your life; you have shown a weakness in my boy, Viper. He needs strength to perform his duty. He cannot have any weaknesses."

"You have no claim to him," Silius countered. The light in his eyes was anger. "He is my brother; my father's son."

"Then perhaps to kill the tree, I must start at the roots."

Silius's eyes flashed, but Jhal raised his head. Anan had been watching his face, and his struggle had been clear between his duty and emotion, but Anan could not tell which one had won. "He is trying to anger you," he spoke to his brother.

Thistle glanced at his apprentice. "Do not anger me or you will feel my wrath."

"He is attempting to get beneath your skin and make you see unclearly. He is the favored," Jhal said again, his eyes fixed on Silius.