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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑺
𝑹𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑺
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 an ocean of golden hills all around Rosaleen and the sand radiated with a blazing heat that penetrated through her linen clothing with ease. There was no cloud to be seen in the stark blue sky above her and she wiped with her arm over her forehead, capturing some droplets of sweat with the white fabric of her layered clothing. Her blonde curls were tucked away under a headscarf to prevent herself from getting a sunstroke but being all covered up in this heat didn't make travelling any easier. It felt as if she was trapped in a massive furnace while the flames danced under her feet.

Rosaleen lay almost vertical up against a hill, carefully peeking over it to observe the happenings in the valley below her. The sand grains had long made their way under her clothing and though her skin felt irritated and itched in an annoying manner, the sight below her made her quickly forget all about it.

'Sand bandits,' Seren whispered next to her, confirming her thoughts. The Archenlander lay flat on his stomach as well and his usual hazel eyes shone in the same golden colour all around them as he observed the movements of the bandits. The sand people were known for roaming the desert between Calormen and Archenland ─ two kingdoms neighbouring Narnia ─, and robbing whoever had the bad luck of encountering them. This time however, they occupied the oasis they needed to refill their water pouch and with the day already coming to an end, they'd wanted to make camp there as well.

'Just our luck,' Rosaleen muttered and she glanced back at the Calormenen party she and Seren were supposed to guide through this vast ocean of golden fire.

The Prince of Tashbaan, Rabadash, still sat in the saddle of his horse, leaning forward in a bored manner to pat the horse on its neck as it shook restless with its white mane and tail. The Tisroc, since even the Prince was often called that, wore a white turban adorned with rare black gemstones that could only be delved from the soil of Calormen, and Rabadash obviously felt more comfortable in these searing surroundings than Rosaleen or Seren ever could be.

Seren scratched over the stubble of his dark beard thoughtfully as he watched one of the bandits watering the dromedaries. He looked to his side to catch Rosaleen's gaze as she turned her attention from the Tisroc towards him.

'Maybe they wouldn't bother us?' she thought out loud. 'They wouldn't dare to attack the Tisroc, right?'

Seren slowly shook his head. 'The opposite would be more likely. The sand bandits take pride in belonging to no country. Attacking royalty would be the highlight of their day.'

'Oh that's just lovely.'

Seren struggled to keep in his laughter and he quietly slid down the sand hill. As soon as he reached the foot again, he rose up out of his crouching position and gestured for Rosaleen to come down as well. 'It's up to the Prince,' he said.

Rosaleen tore her eyes away from the unsuspecting bandits below her and slid down the hill, the sand grains around her accompanying her movements like rippling water. She sprang back to her feet and patted some sand off her clothing, though it did tend to get everywhere. Only a hot bath would make her feel clean again and while they had only been travelling for three days, the scorching heat stretched the hours till they felt painfully and twice as long.

Seren and Rosaleen made their way back to the Tisroc and while Rosaleen made a curtsy and kept her eyes on the sand in front of her, Seren bowed from his waist and dared to glance at the Tisroc until he indicated they could rise again.

'Speak,' Rabadash said, observing his two emissaries from different lands. His voice was thick with the accent of his native language, making the sounds appear harsher than he meant, but the young Tisroc couldn't apologise for it.

Several generals of Calormen, better known as the aghas, circled around him like vultures, waiting for him to make a mistake. And one of them was seated on the horses behind him, observing his every move. Rabadash still had to prove he was worthy of his father's throne, as the current Tisroc was getting old but he still doubted if the young Prince should be the one who succeeded him after his passing.

'Good news and bad news, Your Grace,' Seren said after straightening his back again. 'The good news is that we have found the oasis we wanted to make camp for tonight. The bad news is that more than two dozen desert people were faster.'

'Desert people?' Rabadash repeated, his eyes glittering darkly like coal by the opportunity that lay in front of him. 'You mean those sand rats that pretend as if they are above any Calormenen or Archenlandic law? They will rue this day that they encountered me. Draw your weapons,' he ordered his aghas and the six foot soldiers while unsheathing his own scimitar as well. The knob of the hilt was a massive red ruby that shimmered like blood and Rabadash rolled with his shoulders to loosen his muscles.

'I will have their filthy heads and present them as a gift to the Narnian Kings and Queens for their seven year reign.'

Rosaleen pushed back the painful pang that travelled through her body by the involuntarily thought of the High King of Narnia, and she crossed eyes with Seren; both were sure the four royals wouldn't appreciate such a gift, but who were they to go against the Tisroc?

'As Your Grace wishes,' Seren said after a small hesitation and he walked over to his horse to mount it and get his weapon. The Archenlander was skilled with all sorts of weaponry, but he preferred the seven foot long spear over everything else. He could move it around with such deadly precision, it had even impressed some of the war-skilled aghas back in Tashbaan.

Rosaleen quickly sprinted back to her horse as well, mounting it with ease and she slid the twin swords out of the sheaths that hung by the saddle. The swords were given to her by Father Christmas seven years ago and though their magical properties ensured the blades would never break or go blunt, it also allowed her to feel her brother's presence even when he was miles and miles away since his swords were made out of the same steel. Rosaleen felt the familiar tugging of it at the edge of her mind when she enclasped the purple hilts, but then she completely blocked it out. They were outnumbered ten to thirty, she couldn't lose focus.

The aghas named Hashim shot her a dirty look when she joined his side in front of the soldiers. Despite having proved her worth several times already, Hashim still believed she shouldn't be allowed to fight; like it was the Calormene belief about women. Rosaleen though, ignored him as she knew better than to challenge him, and Rabadash ordered his small troop forwards.

They marched over the sand but when they got around the towering sand hill, the four seated on horseback urged their steeds in a gallop while the foot soldiers broke into a run.

The desert people occupying the oasis looked surprised by the attack but they recovered quickly; drawing their scimitars and forming a defensive formation near the water.

Rosaleen's palms felt warm and clammy, and her heart throbbed in her throat while they neared the sand bandits, the adrenaline rushing through her veins. The horse underneath her danced excitedly and its hooves thundered over the sand in the same staccato rhythm of the others. The horses broke through the bandit's defensive line with brute force and the metallic clanging of colliding weapons rose up in the air as the battle began.

As soon as she could, Rosaleen jumped out of the saddle; preferring to fight with both feet on the ground than being seated higher in the air as she knew that wasn't her expertise.

She crossed blades with one of the bandits and he snarled angrily when she forced his scimitar down with one of her swords. She could only see his dark eyes as the rest of his face was covered with a once white fabric but now faded to a sweaty yellow due to the scourging sun, and Rosaleen clenched her jaw in effort when the bandit tried to pull his scimitar back.

However, his curved blade hooked around Rosaleen's sword and he jolted the hilt out of her hands, causing her sword to land several feet farther up ahead. Rosaleen ducked underneath his now freely swinging scimitar and she rose up nearby his face again.

The bandit clearly startled as she could read the shock in his eyes, and she brought up her hand; hitting him right against his nose. The scarf covering his face coloured a scarlet red and his eyes watered in pain. Before he could redirect his scimitar, Rosaleen stabbed her other sword up through his ribs and the point appeared again, right out of his back. The bandit gargled, coughing up blood and he collapsed when she withdrew her sword.

Rosaleen ran towards her other sword, swiftly picking it up before charging at her next opponent. She sprinted over the sand, not even slowing down while the bandit squared his stance as soon as he saw her coming at him. The bandit shouted some words in his native language before swinging his weapon at her, but Rosaleen ran around him, just out of the scimitar's reach and she skidded to a halt behind his back.

She kicked against the back of his knee and involuntarily, his legs buckled away from underneath him. The bandit screamed in frustration, but Rosaleen had her blades already crossed in front of him and she sliced his throat without mercy. He fell forwards and landed with a thump on the sand and the golden grains turned red, the blood spreading around the bandit's body like the blooming petals of a flower. For a split second, Rosaleen stared down at the bandit but Seren's voice caused her to whirl around again.

'Rose, look out,' he screamed and she caught sight of the bandit that ran up towards her. He was already very close to her and although she managed to avoid the bandit's first swing with his scimitar, the bandit gracefully spun back to face her and their weapons collided with a clang.

Rosaleen stumbled back by the impact, thrown out of balance by his strong blow, and she tripped over the body of her previous opponent. She landed flat on her back and her swords got launched out of her hands. She scurried to grab the dead bandit's scimitar but the other moved faster, kicking her against her abdomen and while Rosaleen gasped for air, he revealed a sharp dagger; ready to plant it in her heart.

The menacing glittering of metal caused Rosaleen's mind to go completely empty, but her body still knew what to do and reacted in instinct; she tried to swipe the man's feet by hooking her own foot around his ankle and her fingers finally curled around the hilt of the scimitar. The bandit managed to keep standing, but while he brought down his dagger in an uncontrolled manner, Rosaleen swung upwards with the curved blade.

The bandit's dagger grazed her torso, tearing right through the fabric and leaving a small yet barely stinging cut, but then the scimitar drew a bloody smile through his throat. The bandit collapsed on top of her and with some effort, she managed to roll the dead weight off of her, only to reveal another man towering above her. Unlike the other sand people, his face wasn't completely covered and he flashed a wicked smile at her.

'Kadınlar savaşmaktan daha iyi bilmeli,' he said to her, twirling his scimitar in his hand and kicking hers out of her hand. He stumped one of his heavy boots on her ribs to keep her from moving, and the tears sprang in her eyes by the impact. Rosaleen's breath was knocked out of her again but she still shot him an angry glare, ignoring the pain that soared through her body.

Her eyes searched for anything she could use, but she was trapped; she couldn't wriggle out of his weight that rested upon her like the paw of a bear. However, the bandit suddenly froze in his movements and his eyes grew wide, his body loosening the strength that kept Rosaleen in place.

The sand man's body seemed to fall slowly forward and she quickly rolled out of the way until she heard the shallow thud of his collapse onto the sandy ground. Rosaleen pushed herself half back up and caught sight of Seren's spear sticking out of the bandit's back; the wooden shaft still slightly moving from left to right like a metronome.

Seren himself stood several yards farther up ahead, his throwing arm still stretched and one foot placed in front of the other as his upper body hung a bit forward. But then he came out of his frozen position and glanced around the oasis, his hand reaching for the dagger hanging around his belt, except there was no one left to fight and he ran over towards Rosaleen.

'Are you alright?' he asked her in concern as she still sat in the sand, one of her arms wrapped around her chest. 'Are you wounded?'

Rosaleen faintly smiled up at him. 'No, I'm alright. Just catching my breath.'

Seren raised an eyebrow. 'Already? This was just a small fight. How many did you strike down? Two? Three?' He shook his head in disappointment and Rosaleen opened and closed her mouth, but she was so offended it left her speechless until she saw the smile tugging at his lips.

'Seren!' she exclaimed and she stubbornly swatted his hand away that he offered to pull her back on her feet. He let out a chuckle but still helped her to stand up, grabbing her wrist and elbow before she could hit his hand away again. Rosaleen tried to suppress a groan ─ she suspected one of her ribs may be broken ─ but Seren still heard it and his brown eyes took in the blood spatters on her clothing.

'It's not mine,' she assured him, following his gaze before meeting his eyes again.

Seren hesitated for a few more moments, observing her face but then he hummed. He turned to the dead bandit and stepped with one foot on his back and pulled out the protruding spear with a jolt.

Rosaleen walked over to her swords, refusing to tell him about her hurting ribs as only time could heal that and there was no use in fussing over it. Her face still strained though, when she crouched down to gather her weapons and she followed Seren a bit slower back towards the Tisroc.

Rabadash still sat on his mare, the usual white coat of the horse stained with a scarlet red spattering as well, and he bore a victorious look on his face as he overlooked the oasis.

'Tash bizim tarafımızdaydı,' Hashim said, inclining his head to the Tisroc and Rosaleen shifted a bit uneasy; she always felt a strange sort of presence falling over her whenever the Calormene god Tash was mentioned. It was cold and dark, much unlike whenever someone mentioned Aslan, but it also had a calling that tried to lure her.

'Bring me his head, aghas Hashim,' Rabadash ordered his general, nodding at one of the dead bandits lying in front of his horse.

Hashim dismounted his horse to do as his Tisroc commanded.

However, Seren stepped in before Hashim could swing down his scimitar. 'If I may, Your Grace, I would advise you to reconsider your. . . gift to the Narnian Kings and Queens. Out of a political point of view.'

Rabadash raised an eyebrow. 'Why?'

'Upholding a treaty begins, in my humble opinion, with respecting each other's culture. A severed head would not be considered a gift in Narnia. It may send out the wrong message, Your Grace.'

Rabadash clenched and unclenched his jaw, making the strong lines of his face look even sharper, and he dismounted his horse. He strode over to Rosaleen who quickly dropped her gaze in a respectful manner. Rabadash though, ushered her to look at him with an annoyed gesture.

'You're my Narnian emissary. Is this true?' he asked her, and she nodded.

'I'm afraid so, Your Grace.'

Rabadash pondered over the advice for a moment but then he turned to Hashim and ordered him to stand down. 'Burn the dead and set up camp,' he commanded before walking towards the pool of water that sparkled in the light of the setting sun.

The aghas slid the scimitar back into its sheath and muttered something under his breath.

'You foreigners lack a spine,' Hashim hissed at Rosaleen and Seren. He bowed down to grab the dead bandit by his collar and dragged him towards the edge of the oasis.

Rosaleen and Seren both fumed as they watched Hashim go, but neither of them said anything.

'I'll show him what he lacks,' Rosaleen muttered to Seren when Hashim was out of hearing range, and Seren grinned.

'That might take you a while and it would be a complete waste of your time,' he said, causing Rosaleen to let out a chuckle.

'If you help with setting up camp, I'll help Hashim burn the dead,' he suggested as they watched the aghas walking towards a second bandit.

'All right,' she agreed, relief seeping through her voice as that would mean she didn't have to try and drag the dead-weight of the bodies with her bruised ribs, and they both set off to do their work.

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