Chapter 114: Veil of Sand

Morning sun had just barely peeked above the horizon painting long shadows across the village. Reika and Kael stood wordless near the village well, watching villagers in their day's work. Dressed in their loose, beige garments that protects them from the desert sun, it helps them to easily go unnoticed by their neighbors. Reika had to put away the few golden trinkets that identified her as royalty. In order not to get the people alarmed. Kael readjusted his headscarf against the blistering sun. "You look like them now" he said to Reika. She smoothed the folds of her plain tunic and smiled wryly. "I may look like them but it's going to take more than clothes to make me fit in here."   She had spent her days among the village women, at first only watching what they were doing, helping when she could. To begin with they had been stand-offish towards her, but she had soon won them over by her warm manner and her eagerness to learn. Kneeling beside a woman named Sariah in the meager vegetable garden beside hers, she sat suddenly back to Sariah and asked, "How do you nurture those tender plants on the land, totally out of their favorite environmental conditions?" Sariah smiled sadly, wryly. "It is not easy. Special sand mixed with clay so it does not waste one precious drop; then we get our water judiciously for special spots. That's sensitive balance.". She listened intently as he spoke the words, ready for the knowledge to sink in. As days went by, she started contributing her own ideas on how certain aspects of the work could be simplified using the survival instincts from her kingdom. The women were skeptical, but with time her suggestions would prove to work time and time again, and with that, begrudging respect would be formed. In less than two weeks, Reika was the authority for the ladies. Anything-be the styles of planting or putting in place their homes, they consulted her. It was during one afternoon when all were under the big tree, Sariah told her, "You brought life to this village Reika. Whatever you do-your ideas in life are helping more than you perceive.". Reika smiled, but her heart betrayed a flicker of guilt. "I'm just doing what I can. We gotta work together if we wanna make it through this." Elya huddled closer to him. "You're not like any other person I've ever met. Where did you learn all this? Reika said nothing more for several more moments, finally shrugged. "I've done quite a bit of travel in my lifetime," she said dryly, "and I just kinda pick it up on the way somehow." Elya nodded as apparently that was enough of an explanation. Meanwhile, Kael had grown silently in stature among the men of the village. Natural strength and discipline drew Kiran to invite him to join in the training of the younger men in combat. "One thing is for sure," he said as he watched one day, "Your technique is great. Where did you learn that?" Kael shrugged and swiped the sweat off his brow. "Years of practice. It's just something I've always been passionate about." Kiran crossed his arms over his chest, an almost thoughtful look crossing his face. "You're a good teacher. These boys could use someone like you." Kael nodded, silent in his acceptance of the position. Under the mentorship of Kael, village boys began to flex muscles: ironing their conduct and the roughness away. He showed them the use of simple arms-the spear, the knife, and of the fists and the fangs. "Watch your footing," he said while sparring with one of the boys, "This is where everything emanates from every attack, there needs to be a base". "The boy nodded and changed positions. "You are one of those innate-born leaders, boy," said Kiran later over dinner. He shook his head. "I'm just doing what needs doing. We all have to pull our weight." Kiran smiled. "You and Reika have become integral to this community. We're lucky to have you. Brothers and Sisters People in the village would seem to treat them, Kael and Reika, as siblings. Both balanced each other in action and word to make nobody suspect otherwise. As night began to set the sun below the treetops, Kael prepared a meager dinner in their small cottage and finally asked him, "You don't think they suspect anything, do you?" Reika shook her head. "Nay, we've been good to keep our story straight. So long as we're cautious, they won't ask questions." Kael turned to him, concern darting through his gaze. "Your pregnancy isn't showing yet, but it will be soon. What then?" "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Reika replied matter-of-factly. "For now, we have to continue to play our parts to fit in and be trusted. Thanks to her, the friendship due to which at a certain moment Reika gained confidence with villagers-together with her she milked goats and wove baskets, cooked all this under the scorching sun in simple meals. One afternoon sewing Sariah's torn cloak, the old woman reached for her and said, "You are one real desert wolf, Reika she that learned in the quickest time and never fled from battle". Reika smiled, pride rising in her chest. "I had good teachers. They always were so careful, even after they finally settled into the village. Anytime Araidne's men show up, by which time they should know what running means. As the night wore on outside the cottage with his girl, the star-filled sky above them, Kael leaned in to ask, "Ever wonder if someday we get to return to claim it back?" Reika's eyes had glazed over a while ago. "I do, every day, but right now I have more pressing concerns about survival. We make it out alive, perhaps one day-maybe-we fight back." Kael nodded then, his face hardened into determination. "We will live, Reika. I won't allow anything to take your life or that of the baby." As night fell and Reika lay on her thin mat, her mind wandered back to the life left behind: Alpha Lleus-still unconscious and hidden-and Daisy, whom she prayed had slipped by undetected. 'I'll come back for you," she whispered into the darkness. 'I promise." Her hand was on her stomach, a soft smile dancing on her lips. It was the unborn child that, amidst all uncertainty and danger, kept hope alive.