Page 166 of New Storm Rising
“This happened during the night?”
“Yes,Sahib. It started rather abruptly roughly two hours ago, and since then, they have been groaning and cursing all morning. It is almost as if they had been poisoned.”
“Poiso—”
Mr Ambrose cut off, his spine stiffening. Inasmuch as solid rock can stiffen. Then, slowly, very slowly, he turned his head towards me.
“What did you do, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Pardon?” Blinking up at him innocently, I gave him my most earnest harmless-little-wifey expression. “What could you possibly mean, Sir?”
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “What did you even give them? I made sure to bring a variety of supplies on this expedition, but I am quite sure that large quantities of poison werenotamong them.”
In answer, all I did was grin and hold up a large bottle with the labelFizzlewiz Drastic Digestion Draught.
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I most certainly did.” My grin gained a certain air of thoughtfulness. “You know, I never realized how much fun it could be to watch annoying people puke their guts out. Maybe I should take some of that stuff back with me to England. Or I could just have someone build a stable next to our house and bring back Ambrose Juni—”
“No.”
Mr Ambrose’s voice was cold, hard and absolute.
“You didn’t even let me finish!”
“I did not need to. The answer is no. Absolutely and completely no.”
Pouting, I patted Ambrose Junior’s flank. “Don’t take it personally. Deep down, I’m sure he loves you.”
“Blllaaaawwwk?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll always be there for you.”
Right then, my uncaring husband decided to interrupt my heartfelt moment. “I need information. How much did you give them? Enough so they are weak enough to be ambushed?”
Reluctantly stopping the petting session with my new favourite pet, I considered his question for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I poured in a whole lot of stuff, but even if I did, I doubt our dear, law-abiding marshal would carry around deadly poisons in his case. So they should be puking their guts out right now, but if we really try and press them, they’ll probably start firing everything they’ve got at us. And considering this stuff contains ipecacuanha,” I raised the bottle, “that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Hm.” Mr Ambrose glanced over at the oasis, from which groans and curses were still rising into the morning air. “Agreed.”
“You heard the man,” I called out, my gaze sweeping over the assembled men and their camels in a not at all sadistic way. “Everyone, mount up! Let’s have a nice, relaxing morning ride, shall we?”
I had the pleasure of seeing Mr Ambrose’s collective security detail turn green and clutch at their stomachs in pre-emptive nausea.
“You…!” one of them wheezed, glancing between me and Mr Ambrose. “Does he pay you to torture us?”
“Nah.” Shaking my head, I sent a beaming smile their way. “I do that all for free. Aren’t I amazing?”
Then I swung up into the saddle and, whistling, spurred Ambrose Junior on towards the distant rock wall.
“Come on!” I called out, glancing back. “What are you waiting for?”
Behind me, I heard the sound of reluctant men climbing into the saddle. The protesting bleats of camels rose into the air as they were harnessed to the carriages. Moments later, everyone set out and, veering off from the dusty path that led straight to the oasis, we moved in a slightly different direction, showing our enemies our lovely camels’ backsides.
“What do you think?” I enquired, catching up to Mr Ambrose and giving him a smile. “Do you believe our friends appreciate the lovely cocktail I left behind for them?”
Beside me, my husband, his face completely stoic, stony and expressionless, gave a curt nod. “Indeed.”
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