Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Viper

“ T ake the sacrifice away, and prepare her,” Lord Alasdar ordered as the clan quieted. A shuffle behind me and the sound of feet dragging through sand indicated the riders’ obedience. I chanced a glance out of the corner of my eyes to see the woman pulled through the crowd, although she clearly tried to move under her own power.

Keera my mind supplied unhelpfully. I don’t know what had possessed me to ask for her name. It would only make it harder to watch her bleed out as Lord Alasdar’s sacrifice. I grit my teeth, the desert in my mind growing louder as she was dragged out of sight.

“Viper, come into my tent, and tell me of your travels,” Lord Alasdar continued, already turning around, clearly expecting me to follow. I stood, turning to check on Alza, who waited patiently, although her head hung in exhaustion. I patted her cheek before waving over a clansman.

“See to it she is cared for. I will check later to see that it was done properly.” I let my voice pitch low, and the man scurried to obey, paling under his deep tan.

I watched him lead her for a moment, Alza’s ears flicking back in displeasure at being cared for by a stranger, but it wasn’t wise to keep Lord Alasdar waiting. I turned away and ducked through the flap of fabric at the opening of the dwelling.

My eyes took a second to adjust to the dimness as Lord Alasdar kept all the flaps of his tent closed, blocking out the bright sun. A lantern on the table served to light the cavernous space. It was filled with a rack of fine weapons on one wall, fine rugs overlapped to create soft flooring, and dotted with lush pillows that served as seating. It was a far cry from my tent at the encampment, filled only with my sleeping mat and a few supplies. I supposed I could have a similar dwelling, but I didn’t see the point—not when I would spend most of my nights out traveling with only Alza for company if I could.

Lord Alasdar had already knelt on a low stool on the far side of a low table and beckoned me to join him. I settled myself onto a cushion across from him, putting myself at a lower height. After all, I was no more than his sword.

“Was Lord Einil easily persuaded to our cause?” he asked as soon as I sat, pouring himself a glass of dark liquid from a cut crystal pitcher. Only a single glass was on the table, and he did not move to find another, not that I would have accepted one.

“He took some forceful persuasion,” I admitted. “He was willing to fight with us, but hesitant to give up command of his riders.”

“And how did you persuade him?”

“I didn’t, but his daughter and heir was much more amenable to our demands.”

Lord Alasdar chuckled, a humorless sound. “They do not call you the Viper for nothing.”

“I am as you made me.” I bowed my head deferentially, even as I grit my teeth at his casual laughter in the face of death. I pushed those thoughts down, afraid Lord Alasdar could sense my hesitance to do what needed to be done to save the desert. After all, I owed him more than my life. I owed him my sanity, his teachings and guidance giving me the only defenses I had against the voices in my mind. He was wise, and I would do what he commanded—kill those whose death he deemed necessary.

The image of me lowering my sword after pressing it to Keera’s throat flashed through my mind, and I pushed it away. The exile would still die.

“And the girl?” Lord Alasdar prompted as if reading my mind. “Was she one of Clan Ratan?”

“No, my lord. An exile who I happened upon during my journey home.”

He huffed. “Exile? More proof that the clans have gone soft. No wonder the desert tries to purge us so. The clans of the Ballan Desert were born warriors and gave traitors the doom they deserved. Now, the traditions of Kelvadan have made us soft, and the desert herself tries to return us to our warrior’s way. The storms and thinning herds are evidence that she is not being fed the blood she deserves.”

“My lord,” was my only answer, having heard this tirade many times.

“There was another sandstorm while you were away. We lost two horses.”

My gut twisted. That was the second one in two weeks, while the last had been nearly a month before. They were growing in frequency. Nearly every day, hunters who rode out didn’t return or only stumbled back into the encampment days later on the brink of death. It hadn’t always been like this, but the desert grew harsher.

“We must unite the clans as quickly as possible. You know better than any what is at stake if we fail to take Kelvadan before the desert sees no more use for us.” Lord Alasdar gave me a hard look over the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

My hands balled into fists on my knees so hard the leather of my gloves creaked around them. I would not let that happen. I carried the blame for my home’s unrest, and setting it right was the only way to atone—and to ward off my impending madness.

“I will ride for the remaining five clans at once,” I declared, but Lord Alasdar shook his head.

“You are needed here for a little longer,” he insisted. “The riders of the three clans that are already here need training and to be shown the prowess of their captain. They have sworn their allegiance, but they will not follow us into battle unless they see you as the viper you are. ”

I remained silent, gritting my teeth behind my mask. I didn’t appreciate being paraded around as a figurehead for the united tribes of the Ballan Desert—not when I earned the title by being a lethal weapon, and I much preferred to perform my purpose in obscurity. Still, the mask helped.

I also didn’t relish being in the encampment during the new moon. In accordance with the old ways, it was the time at which sacrifices were made to appease the desert, a time of death before rebirth. I had delivered the exile to her doom, but I didn’t itch to witness it.

Lord Alasdar was sure to be in fighting form, preaching to the clans about the importance of restoring the old ways and the anger of the desert, whipping the crowd into zealotry. When faced with desperation and scarcity, the common enemy of Kelvadan gave the clansman something to fight for.

Where the residents of the Great City sat safely behind their walls, denying the desert the sacrifice and death she demanded in return for the life she gave, the people of the clans suffered and starved. Kelvadan had abandoned the old ways where strength and survival were the only law for a softer way of life, breeding resentment in those who still tested their mettle against the fury of the desert. Lord Alasdar played that resentment like a finely tuned instrument to gain their loyalty.

I, though, had no interest in hearing the half-truths that haunted me. I was all too aware of all that was at stake should the clans fail to unite and fulfill our mission to destroy Kelvadan. The desert’s magic would rip our home apart. There would be no survivors, and the Ballan Desert would return to the lifeless land it had been before our ancestors first crossed to the ocean.

“It will give your horse a chance to rest, as I know she has been on many hard journeys lately,” Lord Alasdar continued, probing at my weakness. If it wasn’t for the truth of his words and the fact that I could sense Alza’s weariness, I may have insisted on leaving for the other tribes in the morning.

“She has carried me across the sands often,” I admitted.

“And she bore an extra burden today. The sacrifice comes at a welcome time. The sand will drink her blood in celebration of our latest step toward a return to the old ways and hopefully buy us the desert’s favor and freedom from the storms for a few more weeks. ”

This time I did remain silent. I preferred to spill blood in battle and didn’t share Lord Alasdar’s fervor for sacrifice. Killing only bought me silence in my mind when it was in service of the desert. Still, the desert gave us life and often demanded life in return.

“Why don’t you perform the sacrifice in a few days? As a show of strength and to allow me to honor your successes?” Lord Alasdar’s expression remained neutral, but his hard gray eyes pinned me as if he could see beneath the metal of my mask, daring me to refuse.

I bowed my head in acceptance. “The desert gives and it takes.”