Page 4 of Wrath of the Oracle

“Guards patrol this area in the morning. Leave now if you don’t want to be caught,” Sholei said, and got up nonchalantly. Maybe if she pretended it wasn’t a big deal, he would let it go and leave. Beneath her clothes, she felt the weight of his emblem. She wondered if it would be enough to convince the patrol guards of his presence.

“You’ve seen me. I can’t pretend otherwise and let you go,” he said in a deceptively calm voice and pushed her back on the bedding with a hand on her shoulder. Sholei’s skin broke into sweat as she tried to keep control of her panic. He would take advantage of her if she showed him how anxious she was.

“Is this how you treat the person who healed your injuries? I won’t ask for payment. Take it as free treatment and leave.”

“Aren’t you the generous one?” The man’s lips peeled back in laughter, and Sholei’s eyes were drawn to his coldsmile. He might be laughing, but the mirth didn’t reach his eyes.

“What do you want from me?” Sholei’s eyes flashed. She should have left when she had a chance. Her hands curled into fists.

“What did you use on my wound? A wound like that shouldn’t have healed overnight. Are you a witch?” he asked. His eyes roamed her head.

“I am not a witch. I practice medicine.” Sholei touched her head and discovered her scarf missing. The man had seen her tattoos, her biggest secret and shame exposed before a stranger. Sholei couldn’t keep calm anymore and pushed the man’s hand away as she tried to get up.

“You brought a dead man back to life.” He leaned back in, his eyes pinning her down.

“You should be thankful I didn’t leave you here to be devoured by beasts.Or a vicious bird,” Sholei finished in a tight voice. The man narrowed his eyes at her.

“Killing you will eliminate the threat of you setting your guards on me.” The man’s voice hardened. The man was right about one thing: her first stop was the patrol guards at the forest entrance if she got away. She would report him and take the chance to get the prize money for all the trouble he put her through.

“The rumors about the Dembe are right. You have no sense of decency or gratitude.”

”If you know I’m a Dembe soldier, you know we don’t take hostages.” He reached for his waist and revealed a dagger with a golden hilt, the same weapon he had pressed to her neck the previous day.

As he spoke, Sholei gathered loose dust in her hand.

“Mukuru Kingdom will hunt you down if something happens to me,” she lied as the sharp edge of the blade in his hands glinted in the light. Truthfully, no one would care about her disappearance. Sholei grew angrier.

“Do you know how many men have said the same words to me?” he smirked.

“Going by your attitude, I am sure it’s a lot.” Sholei wanted to wipe that smirk from his lips.

“Men drawing their last breath curse me all the time.” His voice turned flat, his face passive. Sholei couldn’t deny the haunted look in his gaze.

“As a soldier of the Dembe army, the curses are well deserved,” Sholei blurted out again. She tried again to rise, but he pressed a knife to her neck.

The Dembe Nation was a bunch of tyrants who knew nothing but war and conflict. Their previous king started an expansionist campaign years ago and brought several kingdoms under them. According to the men she treated, the Dembe court set its sights on the southern kingdoms, with Mukuru and its four cities being their most recent target.

“Apart from my insignia, what else gave me away?” He leaned close.

“Why would I tell you that?”

“Indulge me.” He pressed the knife closer, his warm breath fanned her face.

“The dark horse.” With his distinctive accent and the military-issued boots, she should have connected the unique beast to the Dembe earlier. Horses weren’t native to the plains and were imported from the far desertcities where they were bred by pastoral communities. Since Dembe Kingdom bordered the deserts, they had easy access to the beasts. Farther south, horses were only used by the wealthy and the army.

After traveling to the Keseve Market, she learned to distinguish different accents. Traders from the northern kingdoms’ accents weren’t distinct from those of the south. Kingdoms in the plains were once joined with those in the mountains, but decades ago, after the war between the gods, they fractured and formed smaller ones. The people spoke the same language and practiced similar traditions but with different accents.

Keseve Market was in a deep valley, dividing the northern kingdoms from the south.

“Why tend to my wounds? You must have known what my presence would mean for your kingdom.” His eyes narrowed again.

Sholei fumed at his question. She had toiled the night away to heal his wounds, and in turn, she received a dagger drawn on her neck.

The horse neighed, and for a split second, the man cocked his head halfway, concerned for his steed. Sholei took the chance to knock into his chin with her forehead, the same move she pulled the day before. She figured if it worked once, it might work again. The man grunted and moved back, and he stood to his full height.Sholei was not short, but the man was a head taller than her.

She ignored the sting on her head and aimed for his midsection. She ignored how her robes rose to her thigh. He caught her leg before it kicked him, a villainous smilestretched on his lips. His quick reflex surprised her. He had barely healed from his wounds.

“You are not to be underestimated, witch.” He chuckled and pulled her closer, his warm breath grazing her ears. Her back to his front, he firmly gripped her midsection, and his steely arms caged her to his chest. Her legs flailed like a fish out of water.

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