Page 60 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

But there was nothing to do about it now.

Lara joined with those shouting and running toward the altercation, which was in the market. The camels had overturned several stalls, and there were more than a dozen brawling men adding to the chaos.

Weaving among the people, Lara snatched up a sack of dried apricots that had been knocked from a market stand and a handful of small buns from a tray on another, everyone too distracted by the fight to notice her theft. Grabbing a few more items of foodstuff, Lara stepped back between two stalls, creeping behind a row of them.

All she had to do now was get out of town, intercept Aren and Jack, and then—

Meaty hands reached through the back of the stall, closing on her forearms. And a deep voice said, “Here’s our little thief.”

32

Aren

Aren woke with a start,hands scrambling for purchase as he slid sideways. His fingers latched on the camel’s neck, his head swimming with dizziness as he carefully righted himself in the saddle. To which he was tied.

He eyed the rising sun, then growled, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

No answer.

Pivoting in the saddle, he scanned his surroundings, but Lara was nowhere in sight. Unease filled his chest. Had she collapsed? Was she back behind him somewhere, lying helpless in the sand?

Snatching up the reins of the camel, he yanked them, trying to force the animal to turn, but Jack ignored him, ears perked forward toward something Aren couldn’t see in the dim light.

“You don’t want to leave her behind,” Aren said, hauling again on the reins. “She likes you. I don’t.”

But his efforts were fruitless.

Giving up, Aren dropped the reins and began to unfasten the knots tying his legs to the saddle, the only thing that had kept him from falling off entirely. Sliding to the ground, he dug in his heels, forcibly pulling the camel to a stop. It was only then that he noticed the hobbles around Jack’s forelegs.

Had she tried to stop for the night and the camel had wandered off with Aren aboard? Even as the thought crossed his mind, he shook it away, his head aching with the motion. Lara’s coat and all of their supplies were still attached to the saddle, and even if he’d spooked, Jack couldn’t move fast enough in the hobbles to escape Lara’s practiced hands.

A faint breeze brushed Aren’s face, and the camel tugged insistently on the lead, showing more enthusiasm for speed than Aren had seen from him during their entire trek. And there could be only one reason for that: water. The camel was heading toward the oasis Lara had spoken of.

In an instant, Aren’s sun-addled mind understood what Lara had done, and he swore, kicking at the sand. Jack took the opportunity to try to carry on, but Aren hauled him back. “We need to wait forHer Majestyto return lest we foil her precious plan.”

The edge of the sun appeared in the east, rising higher and higher, but Lara didn’t return. Aren drank deeply from one of the waterskins, wiping sweat from his brow as he scanned the horizon for movement.

Jack voiced his displeasure at the delay, the noise echoing over the empty dunes.

“I know,” he replied to the camel. “She should be back by now.”

Which meant something had gone wrong.

33

Lara

They puther in a goddamned pillory.

In the middle of the market, the big man and his friends had forced Lara, kicking and screaming, to her knees while her head and hands were shoved into the wooden frame of the pillory, the top piece slamming down to hold her in place while she spat curses at them.

Not that it had done her any good.

Sweat rolled in rivers down her body, the rising sun baking her naked skin because of course they hadn’t allowed her to keep her clothes. They’d taken everything from her, not even leaving enough to keep her decent.

And she knew exactly why.

“Drink, pretty one, drink.”

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