The Falcon's Heart by Diana Green

Author:Diana Green [Green, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BIRCH LEAF PRESS
Published: 2020-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Jehan pressed her boot to the soldier’s sternum, where he lay bound in the shade of an emptied cargo wagon. She’d chosen this one because he looked young, frightened, and therefore more likely to talk.

“Answer my question!” she growled, placing her sword blade against his throat. “Or is keeping silent worth your life?”

The soldier paled. “I’ll talk! Please! Don’t kill me.”

Of course Jehan was bluffing, but the young man didn’t know that. He’d just survived a fierce battle with her band, and two of his comrades died in combat. The outlaws suffered one casualty—a newer recruit named Gamal—with three others wounded.

The trade caravan had been more heavily protected than Jehan anticipated, with a contingent of the pasha’s soldiers acting as escort. Five captive Nissians—being covertly transported with the legal goods—provided some explanation. The pasha probably expected a share of their illicit sale as slaves.

Too bad for him! Jehan had provided the five Nissians with food, gear, and a map for their trek home. Four thanked her and headed south, while the fifth asked to join her band. He seemed a likely fellow, so she agreed, hoping he’d prove a worthy replacement for Gamal.

Now Jehan and her band needed to put distance between themselves and the scene of their crime. They’d already packed most of the goods, and dealt with the dead and wounded. She had only to finish interrogating this young soldier, and they could leave.

“What regions are being searched for Amira Saba?” she asked, still holding her sword to the man’s throat.

“N…no…nowhere,” he stuttered, eyes wide. “The pasha called off the hunt.”

That was not good news. If Asab Kah Akbah didn’t care about finding the princess, then Jehan had no leverage over him.

“He’s given up so soon?” she pressed. “Why?”

“I don’t know! He has lots of daughters. Maybe, one less doesn’t matter.”

“Bloody bastard.” Jehan spit in the sand, disgusted and dismayed both. “What has he done with the prisoner named Basim? Has an execution been scheduled?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask. The pasha has dozens of prisoners, and I’m usually assigned away from the city.”

So much for that line of questioning.

“We’ve got everything packed,” Otenyo called to her. “Shall we ride?”

“Yes. I’m done here.” She removed her boot from the soldier’s chest and sheathed her sword. When all the bandits were mounted and ready to depart, she untied one of the caravan crew.

“Wait till we’re gone, then unbind the rest and be on your way,” she told him. Even if he didn’t wait long, it would take time to free the surviving soldiers. With the outlaws stealing their horses, there was little chance of pursuit, and the rocky hills would soon hide their passage.

Cresting a low rise, Jehan glanced back at the scattered remains of the trade caravan, contemplating what she’d learned from the soldier. It appeared her hopes of exchanging Saba for Basim were little better than pipe dreams. The pasha had clearly lost interest in pursuing his daughter’s return.

As she rode onward, heaviness filled her chest.

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