Page 161 of New Storm Rising
I smiled. “Well…”
***
Whistling, I enjoyed the wind tickling my nose as I gently swayed from side to side. Ah…life was good. Life wasreallygood. For one, because I hadn’t felt this spiffing for a long time. And for another…
“H-how can you stand this?” came a deathly groan from beside me. Glancing to my left, I caught sight of the broccoli-coloured blob that was the face of Marshal Angus Angleton. Slumped over his camel’s forward hump, he clutched his stomach. “How can you besmiling?”
“I suppose you just aren’t tough enough.” I gave a casual shrug as I sat on my own camel, perfectly fine, my stomach showing not the least sign of rebelling. Nope, not a single little sign. “Would you like some Fizzlewiz Fabulous Fitness Serum? I’ve heard it helps against nausea, Nausicaa, nasty colds, the smallpox, the big pox, measles, typhus, yellow fever, red fever, black fever and even pink fever!”
Lifting his head just slightly, he sent me a glare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Very much so.”
“But…how? How is this possible? I mean…heck! Well…”
Lost for words, he gestured between me, riding along happy as a hippo in the Nile, and Mr Ambrose’s guards. Or, as might be a more apt description of their current state, Mr Ambrose’s wilted lettuce. The green-faced figures were all slumped over their camels. Unfortunately, this meant their noses were buried in the camel’s fragrant fur, and this resulted in, well…
“Blluuuurgh!”
“Gak! Rrrrg! Bleeargh!”
“Ha!” Giving a haughty snort, I raised my chin. “Weaklings! Who would throw up just because of a little travelling?”
The marshal sent me a deadpan stare—which I, amazingly shameless girl that I was, completely and utterly ignored. Besides, if I predicted things correctly, I wouldn’t need to do anything about it. Any moment now…three…two…one…
My camel zeroed in on the US marshal and spat a nice wad of phlegm straight into his face.
I beamed, patting the smart fellow’s hump. “Good boy! I like you!”
“Grnnkmmhr?”
“You remind me of an old friend of mine, you know? I think I’ll name you Ambrose Junior.”
I heard a snort from behind me. Turning around, I saw Karim, whose face was very deliberately still displaying its usual stoic mask.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No, nothing,Sahiba.” One corner of his beard twitched, his eyes seeming to stray to my stomach for some reason. “Nothing at all.”
Over the next few days, I had a marvellous time for someone escorting a prisoner transport through the desert. Mostly, it was all thanks to Ambrose Junior and his amazingly steady gait. But partly it was also due to the fact I had at long last, finally, found myself a pair of trousers. Have you ever tried riding a camel in a hoop skirt? Well, if you haven’t yet: don’t. Don’t ever. Luckily, Mr Ambrose, the amazing cheapskate, had requisitioned all the belongings of the goons and grunts that had met an unfortunate end back at Tomb Gloom. Among the many clothes, it wasn’t hard to find a comfy shirt and pairs of trousers. Ah, life was good!
“Bluuuurgh!”
Glancing over my shoulder, I threw a beaming smile at Marshal Angleton who was hanging precariously on his swaying camel’s hump.
“Did you say something, Marshal?”
“Y-you…you are a cruel woman.”
“Oh my! Am I?” Turning my head towards my dear husband, I blinked innocently at my character witness. “Am I a cruel woman?”
Mr Ambrose gave me a long, scrutinizing look.Reallylong.
Reallyreallylong.
“No.”
Making a mental note to punish him for the five seconds of consideration that took, my gaze swivelled to Karim. “What about you? Am I a cruel woman?”
