In Her Name by Esther Mitchell

Author:Esther Mitchell [Mitchell, Esther]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FyrRose Productions
Published: 2018-10-04T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

He is gone.

Even before she stepped inside her tent, Manara knew she wouldn't find Matthew Raleigh there. She didn't question how or why -- that he was gone was telling enough. Righting an overturned table on her way through the clutter, she sank to the cushioned bed in defeat and fell back to stare up at the swaying ceiling as hot tears burned her cheeks.

All those years of dreams, her lifetime of prayers, and this was what she received. Her future stretched before her, a hungry void that threatened to suck her spirit dry. Her life was empty, barren, and meaningless. Sargon would never return to the temple, and she would end her days bathed in her own blood as evil scourged the land she loved and killed the people she cherished.

I should have told him. The words were a painful, stark reality, too late to change. She swallowed back a sob as she recalled the lies, the evasions, and the way his eyes clouded more with each answer she denied him. She should have told him everything. She should have told him about Ashurbanipal, about her part in his being here in the desert, every shameful secret. She should have pleaded for his aid if it came down to that. But maybe...

Manara launched herself upright, hope flooding through her. Maybe he wasn't the one, after all. Maybe it was her own wishing, her own desires that declared him the Chosen One. Surely, bountiful Ishtar would not let Her Chosen One walk away now -- not when they were so close to a danger that could destroy them all.

Walk away. Manara snorted a bitter laugh as she gazed around at the mess of strewn clothing and overturned furniture. Matthew Thomas Raleigh had not walked away. If this mess was any indication, he had run -- as if all the Galla of the Underworld were nipping at his heels. The question was, why?

Her chin rose defiantly. Why he left no longer mattered. Her time dwindled. Without Matthew to aid her, she had a lot more preparations to make. She didn't have time to feel sorry for herself or to pine for any man -- let alone one who clearly couldn't stand the sight of her any longer.

Rising, Manara reached for the ornate wooden trunk she never traveled without. From around her neck she drew her medallion of station and fit it into the circular metal indentation on the box's clasp. Giving it a quarter turn, she smiled grimly as an internal latch clicked. She looped the necklace back over her head, lifted the lid, and drew out a neatly folded uniform in the tans and browns of desert camouflage and a man's desert headdress. Donning the uniform, she pulled out another, longer case with a hooked latch. Flicking the latch up, she opened this box as well. Inside were her weapons and a survival pack. She would need both to survive the desert and be in any shape to do battle when she arrived.

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