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Faris nodded and slipped back into the darkness around the corrals. Ben led me to a side street that followed the city fortification. He transformed into his dark self and spread his wings out on either side.
“This’ll be the fastest way over the wall,” he told me as he scooped me into his arms.
Ben flapped hard and we easily sailed over the mud wall. He landed neatly on the deep sand just outside the wall and set me down. The desert stretched out for an eternity of shadows, but the way was dotted with darker blotches that signified the presence of an oasis.
Ben took my hand and led me into the wilderness. We stared far out of the line of sight of the archway which was all for the best when a commotion in that location caught our attention. We hunkered behind a low sand dune and watched from fifty yards as other guards hurried up to their two compatriots. Words were exchanged and gestures were made, and the guard was doubled.
“It appears the commander has alerted the rest of the city to our presence,” Ben mused.
I snorted and nudged him in the side with an elbow. “I give all the credit for this trouble to you.”
He grinned and bowed his head to me. “My pleasure, but let’s be off before Faris’ son worries we’re not coming.”
We crept away from the city and toward the first large blotch of black in the east. The distance was traversed in a short fifteen minutes, but I was glad to have solid earth beneath my feet. The shifting sands had made traction almost impossible.
“What I need is a pair of hooves. . .” I murmured.
“I would rather you never change,” Ben teased.
I swatted his arm. “I meant for traveling.”
He grinned as he transformed back into his plainer self. “Hopefully the next time we traverse this land you’ll have air beneath your feet instead of sand.”
We meandered through the foliage to the very heart of the sliver of paradise. A small pool of water in a clearing presented itself to us. Faris’ son had pitched a tent, but the old weathered ring of stones for a fire was unlit. The young man himself clambered to his feet at our coming and his stiff stance told me he hadn’t recognized us.
“Not falling asleep on the job, were you, son of Faris?” Ben teased as we approached.
The young man’s shoulders relaxed and he shook his head. “No, sir. I was merely resting my eyes.”
We reached the lad and Ben clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Just like your father, ever ready with a good jest. Now then, could you tell us what’s the best route to follow the river without being spotted by anyone near the edge of the low hills?”
“You mean those around the ghasl?” Salil asked him.
Ben chuckled. “As astute as your father, as well, but to answer your question, yes.”
“There is a path just wide enough for the wagon some ten feet from the river’s edge,” Salil informed us as he led us over to the said vehicle. We climbed in while he remained on the ground staring up at us. “Though sometimes the river washes parts of it away, and as you reach the hills the path narrows and vanishes altogether.”
“Much obliged for the advice,” Ben replied as he grasped the reins. “I promised your father I’d return you to him before sunrise, so expect us before then.”
Ben cracked the reins and the qasi trotted down the wagon trail that led through the oasis in a west-by-easterly direction. We came out the other side and were presented with the road on our left and some fifty yards off, and the river to our right about a hundred yards away. Ben turned the wagon toward the lush greenery that surrounded the waters.
Much as I was apprehensive about this adventure, I was eager to see the river that was the lifeline of the capital. We neared its edges and the fresh scent of clean water wrapped me in a cool blanket. The trees and bushes covered about twenty yards on both banks, but there was enough of a gap between the foliage so I could see the glistening waters of the gentle Masdar River.
“So this gives Thania all of its water?” I asked my companion.
Ben nodded. “All of it. The Thaqiba keeps the rest to itself.”
I looked up and down the wide stream. “I’m surprised it’s not protected by guards.”
“Exit from the island is as heavily protected as entrance,” Ben mused as he directed the wagon onto the road Salil had mentioned. “Anyone who attempted to attack the water would be caught trying to escape the island and be gruesomely executed.”
A little color drained from my face. “How gruesome?”
“They tie their hands and feet to two qasi facing opposite directions and slowly draw the animals apart. Sometimes the torture would last an hour before mercy would be granted and the qasi would be whipped into a sprint that would tear the victim in two.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Is that the public execution you mentioned?”
“One of many. The kings before Ramaal have had several thousand years to invent ways to painfully kill someone, and some took far too much enjoyment in devising such ‘entertainment.’”
