I had never driven a wagon in my life, but when Rek turned sixteen, his parents had given him a racing carriage. Naturally, Adara, the twins, and I had all demanded that he teach us to drive it. But he had declared I was the only one sensible enough to be trusted with his horses.
I hadn’t actually enjoyed the first lesson because poor Rek was so worried about his new horses that he remained stern and tense the whole time. But Adara insisted I stick with the lessons, purely because of how much it enraged the twins.
As I flicked the reins to get the horses moving, I couldn’t have been more grateful to her.
Lurching into movement was a much less smooth process than with the light racing carriage, but the two workhorses stepped forward obediently, and the wagon creaked into motion behind them. Rowan had pulled the well-oiled gates wide while I was accustoming myself to the reins, and I managed to squeeze the wagon through without scraping the sides.
The turn into the street was tight, but I hoped the men inside the jars would think they were turning around the side of the house. I wanted to be well on my way and moving quickly before they realized there was something wrong. I was trusting in a combination of confusion, uncertainty, and speed to keep them all in place.
As soon as the wagon had swung onto the road, I signaled to the horses to increase the pace. Thankfully the early evening was a quiet time on the streets with the main business of the day concluded and most people inside eating. Within minutes, I had the wagon traveling at a dangerously high speed, barely slowing for the corners. Without the weight of all the jars, plus the heavy wood of the wagon itself, we would have tipped on some of the turns.
We passed an occasional other vehicle, but they all took one look at our enormous bulk thundering down the street and hurried to one side or the other to make room for us.
Every creak and slosh from the wagon behind me made the back of my neck prickle, the skin itching. At every sound, no matter how small, I expected a thief to burst from one of the closest jars, knife in hand. If one did, I had no defense.
But we got further and further from the house, and still none of them moved. Esai must have instructed them to emerge at his signal and, lacking that signal, they weren’t confident enough to make a move. I had seen his tight rule over the gang. None of them would want to be responsible for ruining his plan, not when they weren’t sure what was actually going on. It was a desperate gamble, but I hadn’t been stabbed in the back yet.
I made another turn, too fast this time, even for the heavy wagon. I felt it shuddering under me, the outside wheels leaving the ground as we teetered on the edge of disaster.
I held on to the reins, throwing my body weight toward the far side, for what little good that could do. The horses strained forward, the wheels turned, and we straightened, all four wheels making contact with the paving beneath us again. I took a shaky breath and urged the horses even faster. We had a straight shot to the distant palace now.
As we approached the gates, I finally had to pull back on the reins, easing the horses slower and slower so we could come to a stop in front of them. A wagon this size wouldn’t fit through the small wooden door, so I had another gamble before me. This time I would play my hand better.
“Evening!” I called loudly to the guards, relieved to see their faces were unfamiliar. “I have Esai’s gift to His Highness, as instructed.”
I thought I’d heard a low rumble from the jars behind me, but my loud mention of Esai’s name brought silence. My ploy was enough to make them second-guess themselves again.
One of the guards approached closer. “What instructions?”
“Open this gate, or I’ll ram it open myself!” I said insolently.
The guard stiffened, sending a signal to the one who remained at the gate which made him disappear through the door. I smiled to myself.
“Climb down immediately,” the guard said, directing the sharp end of his ceremonial spear toward me. It might be part of his dress uniform, but it had a deadly blade.
I immediately dropped the superior posture, adopting a serious expression and holding his gaze.
“These jars are a gift for Prince Tarek, and it’s urgent that he receives them immediately. Send for Captain Jerome if you don’t believe me.”
I kept myself still and my attention on the guard, although I was fairly sure several of the nearer jars had rocked at my mention of Rek’s name. I held my breath, but none of them broke open. So far everything was going significantly better than my worst fears.
The guard facing me didn’t have time to reply before a long line of guards came running through the wooden door, streaming out to surround me and the cart. In a side corner of my mind, I counted them as they came, only stopping when I reached fifty. It seemed an excessive reaction to the apparent threat I presented, but for once I was delighted with the sultan’s caution.
“Dismount,” the original guard said, sounding more confident now. “And you can speak to Captain Jerome yourself.”
“With pleasure,” I said promptly and far more loudly than was necessary. “Now that there are so many guards here, I’m handing over the wagon with relief. Although a hundred does seem an excessive number.”
The guard gaped at me, probably convinced by that point that I was suffering some sort of delusion. While there might have been more than fifty guards, there were far fewer than a hundred.
I jumped down so quickly I nearly lost control and landed on my rear. I managed to keep my feet, however. The closest guards all swung their weapons toward me, but I frantically gestured toward the jars.
“In there,” I said at a more normal volume. Some of the thieves might hear me, but it was too late for it to matter. And if they believed my last assertion, they would know there was no point coming out fighting. “The threat is in there.”
PARTIII
THE TRAITOR AND THE TREASURE
CHAPTER20