Bandits

Chapter 20: Marooned

Both suns burned high in the sky above Gideon and Andromeda. The stars beat down mercilessly on his exposed arms. He had cut off the sleeves of his shirt earlier in the day to use them as makeshift headscarves for himself and the princess. Gideon had used the knife he kept hidden in his boot. Vane's brutes hadn't found it before abandoning them on Zhebek. It wasn't going to be very useful as a weapon or in helping them find any water to survive, but still, it was a small victory. At least Vane hadn't taken absolutely everything from him.

The sleeve wrapped around his head was soaked in sweat, but it covered his neck and helped shadow his face, and that was enough for now. But it meant that his arms were now red and hot to the touch, and he could feel blisters beginning to form.

Gideon and Andromeda had been walking for nearly a day and a half. They had been keeping the brink of the fragemn to their right, wandering inland now and again in the hopes of finding anything useful. All they had yet seen to break the monotony of windswept sand and dry brush was the occasional husk of a dead tree poking up through the sand or a boulder whose shade would provide temporary respite from the glare of the suns. They had found no water and had seen nothing yet to give them much hope in finding water before the desert claimed them.

They wandered on until finding a shadowy spot underneath a rocky overhang. Without having to consult each other, both Gideon and Andromeda instinctively walked to it and collapsed to the cooler sand in unison.

"I'm sorry," Gideon mumbled after a moment.

"For what?" Andromeda leaned back against a smooth rock and closed her eyes.

"All of this," Gideon said leaning forward. "I'm sorry for all of it."

"It's not your fault we're out here," she said, eyes still closed.

"Yes it is. If it weren't for us, you would be safe and sound on your ship flying to Palateo. There'd be a rich delegation to receive you there. There'd be food. Drink. You'd be finishing your mission and saving your people. You wouldn't be on this awful rock, slowly dying alongside a pirate. You'd be safe."

Andromeda sat up and looked at Gideon. He couldn't read her expression. Mostly she looked tired.

"It's not your fault, Gideon," she said again. "My ship would've been attacked with or without you. My enemies knew where I was and where I was going. I wouldn't have been safe anywhere; not on the Opportunity and not on Palateo. There was a traitor. On our handpicked crew, on a secret voyage, we still had a traitor. There's nowhere safe in this world anymore, Gideon. Not while Solium stands. It isn't your fault I'm in danger."

"I just wish I could've done more to protect you."

"Without you, I'd probably have been dead already," Andromeda said, she leaned forward, placing a hand on Gideon's. "And I thank you for that. But it isn't your job to protect me, Gideon. I'm a princess of a kingdom that's under siege. We've been fighting a losing war since before I was born. I've always been in danger. I know the risks, I know the dangers, and I know my duty. I've also known that sooner or later that danger would catch up with me and eventually probably win. You've done so much to make sure that danger didn't catch up with me before now––it isn't your fault it caught up with me here. There's nothing that you could do to protect me from the forces aligned against me and my people, Gideon. This is so much bigger than all of us."

"I'm sorry," Gideon said. He felt ashamed, and foolish. She was right, he couldn't swing a sword and brandish a pistol and save the day. Andromeda wasn't some little girl that needed protection from a robber. She was a sharp, canny young woman that knew the threats of her world better than Gideon ever could. He was hopelessly out of his depth in trying to intervene in her world. What could he do against armies and empires, spies and deceit. He was a simple skyman, handy in a fight, and good with a blade, but what use was that here? Any foe he cut down would simply be replaced by ten more. There was nothing that he could hope to do that could really protect Andromeda. He knew it, and so did she.