The Blue Desert

Chapter Thirteen

Anan cried until her eyes hurt and her throat felt like sand, but still no one stirred from the tent. The man was still standing beside her, and she knew he would restrain her if she tried to enter the it. The people that had been around them had disappeared. Someone had led the horses away while her eyes were blinded by tears.

Now her eyes were dry, and she felt cold all over. Numbly, she undid her scarf from around her neck. The man next to her shifted, watching her as she wrapped it around her shoulders and draped it over her head. There was not a sound but the wind blowing tent flaps, and Anan turned to look at the man standing over her.

His eyes were blue and the skin around them was weathered, but that was all that she could see of his skin, except his hands, one of which rested on a sword in his belt. As she looked at it, she realized it was edged with dried blood, and she quickly looked away. But she had noticed that his hands were scarred like those of a worker.

Whoever these people were, they had saved her and Kevresh from the soldiers. "Please," Anan finally said, returning her eyes to the man's face. "Please, let me see my brother."

He started and blinked down at her; the first time she had seen his gaze waver. He shifted uncomfortably and raised his gaze to the tent. At that moment, the flap moved aside and a woman stepped out. She looked at the man and her hands began to move quickly in different motions that Anan couldn't follow.

She looked at the man as he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. When Anan looked back at the woman, she was shaking her head and there was sadness in her eyes. This time the man didn't try to hold her back from running to the tent. The woman held the flap open for her, and once Anan was inside, she dropped it behind her.

The tent was empty of people. There was a mat in the middle and Kevresh was lying on it. Anan ran to him and dropped down to her knees beside his bloodstained shirt. There was a bandage wrapped around his chest, but there was no rise and fall of breath.

"Kevresh?" Anan whispered, afraid to touch him.

His face was pale; his eyes were closed. Gingerly, Anan placed a hand on his chest, but she could find no beat. "Oh, Kevresh." She began to cry again as she laid her head on his chest. Even though his body was cold, she still expected to feel his arms wrap around her and hear his voice comfort her.

"What am I going to do?" she sobbed.

When Anan's tears were exhausted, she sat and simply held on to her brother's hand. She didn't know how long it was before the woman came in and took her arm. She led Anan out of the tent as she would a young child, right into another tent.

The day had already turned to night, and the warm air caused her cold body to shiver. Smoke was rising from various fires into the star-filled sky. Those stars had blinked down at her and Kevresh only last night. And Kevresh had been alive.

The floor of the tent they entered was covered in a rug, with cushions piled against the walls. A mat was lying in the center, and there was a bowl sitting beside it with steam rising from it. The woman pushed Anan down onto the mat and put the bowl into her hands. Then she made motions with her own hands.

Anan blinked at her, and then looked down at the food. She didn't recognize it, but without thinking she began to eat it. When it was gone, the woman took the bowl from her hands and made her lie down. Anan closed her eyes and felt a blanket being put over her.

The next thing she knew she was awakened by a sound; it sounded like wailing. Anan sat up with a gasp, afraid that she was the one crying. After a moment, she realized it wasn't her, and she breathed deeply. The sound was coming from outside the tent; it didn't even sound human. With a shiver, she laid back down, pulling the blanket tightly around her.