The Blue Desert

Chapter Twenty

The sun had fully risen by the time Silius's wound was taken care of and he had put on his extra tunic. His brother had been wandering up and down the lake's edge, but he ambled toward their makeshift camp once Silius was on his feet again.

In the daylight, with his hood pushed back, Anan could see his face much better. She was surprised again by how similar his features were to Silius's. Though his head was shaved, contrasting Silius's black hair, he had the same dark blue eyes and sharp cheek bones.

Before Jhal could speak, Silius drew him aside, guiding him away from the campsite. They sat where Anan could not hear them and began to talk. She stared at them for a long moment, trying to tell herself that Silius would want to speak to his brother alone; they had many years to talk about.

Turning away, she went to Bayen and began to brush him as he munched on a bit of grass he had found. As she worked, her mind spun with the events of the morning. Jhal had called Thistle "favored," but she did not know what that meant. Favored with the king? Favored with the Vasdin? No, Thistle had implied that the Vasdin did not like him.

Both her hands and her mind moved methodically as she tried to order her thoughts into sense. The two men had not even brought horses. At least, not that Anan had seen. If they did not, though, how could they have caught up to her and Silius so quickly?

And had Thistle drowned? Anan had not gone near the lake since the man had fallen into it even though her flasks were empty. She convinced herself she was not thirsty.

All three of the horses had been groomed by the time Silius returned with his brother in tow. She was cleaning out the brushes when Silius stopped, his shadow falling over her. "Jhal will take Sandstorm," he said without looking at her. "And we will continue on our journey."

Anan knew that she should feel relieved that he would still travel with her, but she did not. She watched as he saddled his mare, Jhal standing a few strides behind him. Silius held Storm while his brother mounted, then clasped Jhal's arm.

"Fair weather, my friend," he said quietly.

Jhal gave a curt nod before turning the mare around and kicking her into a gallop. Dust rose, making Anan turn away. She returned the brushes to their bag, and when she turned again, Silius was covering the fire in sand. Anan did not question him to see if he thought any more men would come after them. She was too tired and sore to care.

Her shoulder complained when she lifted the saddle onto Bayen's back, and looking at it, she saw that it was a blue-green color. She had never had such a bruise before, and she stared at it for a moment before continuing quickly to saddle her horse; she did not want Silius to think she was weak. After all, he had many more bruises than she did, and he was not complaining.

Only when she had finished saddling Bayen did she realize that Silius did not have a saddle for Vayta. Her extra saddle she had thrown away after she had left the desert dwellers, and Silius had given his to his brother.

Silius swung his saddlebags over Vayta's withers and vaulted onto his back as if mounting from a block, steadying Vayta who wanted to break into a gallop now that he felt weight on him. Anan mounted, much less graceful than Silius even with a saddle. They set out without a word.

Anan quickly realized that he did not intend to teach any lessons that day, or even to speak at all. She let her mind wander, steering it clear of any thoughts that would make her sad. The day was warm and she was drowsy, she found herself nodding off a few times and had to keep herself from falling asleep.

It was some time after they had eaten lunch in the saddle, and the sun had reached its peak. Anan felt a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. She blinked and realized that Silius was riding directly beside her, watching her closely. She must have nodded off again, causing the horses to slow down. She urged Bayen forward by tapping her legs lightly against his sides; she did not want to give Silius another reason to be angry at her.