Page 56 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

Focus, you fool!

The hilt of her sword clutched in one hand, Lara peered around the corner, listening.

“How many?” Aren whispered, his breath warm against her ear, his hand gripping her forearm.

She could hear only one, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. Didn’t mean that they weren’t coming up from all sides, ready to attack.

Twisting, Lara pressed her back against the wall next to him, scanning their surroundings for any sign of motion while cursing her blurry vision.

But there was nothing. Nothing but the single individual whose camel was now drinking at the spring. An easy kill.

Or would be, if she weren’t blinded by tears.

Lifting her weapon, Lara took a deep breath. “On three,” she mouthed to Aren.

“One.”

Aren raced around the corner. Swearing, Lara ran after him.

Only to collide with his back.

“What are you doing?” she snarled.

“Thanking Lady Luck,” he answered, then stepped aside. “See for yourself.”

29

Aren

The camel hadits head shoved into the spring, its throat convulsing as it swallowed mouthful after mouthful of water, though one eye shifted in his direction as Aren approached.

It still wore a bridle and saddle, the latter sitting upon trappings in Maridrinian colors, but what interested Aren more was the dead man dangling upside down next to the camel, foot tangled in part of the saddle.

“I suppose no one explained the rules about the water to the camel.” He started toward the pair.

“Aren, it could be a ruse!” Lara leapt into his path, panning their surroundings.

He sidestepped her. “I don’t think so.” Or at least, that was what his gut—along with years of experience repelling raiders —was telling him.

The camel sidled sideways when Aren reached for the dangling reins, making an awful noise before snapping its yellow teeth at him.

“Don’t bother it while it’s drinking.” Lara came up next to him, weapon still in hand. With a frown, she unhooked the dead soldier’s foot, the man falling to the ground with a thud.

Aren dragged the corpse out of reach of the camel’s hooves, then crouched to examine it. The soldier’s body was battered from being dragged, skin scoured by sand and storm, but Aren judged that he’d been dead for less than a day. Which meant he was very likely one of their pursuers. And hopefully that meant the rest of them were dead.

Lara removed the animal’s saddle and dropped it next to Aren, leaving him to unfasten the buckles on the saddlebags and extract the contents. Dried meat, fruit, and nuts. Not much, but it would be enough to sustain them for a few days. Possibly a week.

There was also canvas and ropes for a tent, the missing poles easily replaced. Two waterskins, which he added to the pile, and at the bottom of the saddlebag, a flask that was filled with whiskey.

“Seems sound.” Lara released the camel’s rear hoof, which she’d been inspecting, and gave the animal a pat on the rump. “Do the bags have what we need?”

“Enough to make do.”

“Good.” Lara dusted her hands on her skirts. “We’ll let this boy drink his fill and then give him what fodder is left in the stables. Let's get some rest. We leave tonight.”

30

Lara

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