Page 9 of Sands of Atonement

“Whoa,” the man said softly, too softly, moving his horse from the group in front of me, forcing me to stop. “What’s the hurry?”

My heart pounded against my rib cage. It took everything in me not to step back from his presence, so I held my stance, knowing a group of men was directly behind me.

“Out here, by yourself. Without a horse or camel?” The man tapped his finger against the reins of his horse. “Where are you heading?”

My daggers were halfway plunged into the sands precisely where these men were now waiting for their leader. He looked like someone important, but I couldn’t refresh my history lesson of Brestan fast enough. I cursed myself silently. How did I not hear them approach?

“Tehara.” I couldn’t help the tightness of my lips.

His back stiffened. “Tehara? What for?”

“For trade.” I shifted my feet to prepare for my best advantage in an attack.

The horse backed away from the movement.

During my earlier training days, I’d practice my stealth skills by breaking and entering a few of Mongah’s prisons. One day, when I wanted to increase the challenge, I made my presence known to the prisoners. I was twenty at the time, young and looking for trouble. They were in shock that not only had they not figured out how I was able to break in and out of their prison, but that a woman had done it. It was not as amusing to them as it was for me, and that alone had created chaos and great practice.

I felt the man’s gaze reading my every move. “Listen, boy, we’re not here to waste your time. Have you seen the Atrove since you’ve been in the desert?”

“Atrove?” I frowned.

The man on the horse scoffed. I heard the men behind me start to murmur. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“I know what they are.” My jaw tightened.

Another threat in the desert. Did I forget about them? Perhaps. But only because it was rare to hear about them and even rarer to encounter them. They wore white linen to blend into the sand. No one spoke of them in case one of their eyes and ears heard and would appear by your side and slit your throat for so much as breathing their name. Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it felt that way. It was a rational fear instilled in children so that they wouldn’t venture too far from their clan. When people or things went missing, it was common to assume the Atrove was behind it.

“They’ve been witnessed around the area.”

Who were they to hunt down the Atrove? “What are they to you?” Do you want a death sentence?

The man kept his eyes on me as he lifted the scarf above his nose. He clicked his horse into motion. “They took something valuable of mine. I demand it back.”

“If they took it, they won’t give it back so willingly.” I kept my voice low, but I was intrigued.

“I don’t expect them to.” The rest of his men began to depart, but he kept back for a moment. “Their reputation would be destroyed if they did.” His eyes locked with mine. “And if I were you, I’d pretend I was a man a little better.”

Son of a⁠—

The man thumped his foot into his horse’s side and fell into union with his clan.

Within a moment, white smoke from the sand blew in all directions, and I was left with my dead Silver Snake once again.

I let out a whistling breath and shook my head.

The Atrove. I grew very aware of the fact that they’d been seen around this area.

An elite group of religious mercenaries. Not part of a specific military, but they were the military. They were the law itself, not being a part of a country. A nomadic military. They were secret, and no one would know for sure if they actually knew an Atrovian, if one of their neighbors or brothers was an Atrovian.

But there was one obvious tell: they were celibate. It was against the law to marry and produce children, so they vowed a life of celibacy. They focused on training, fighting, governing under the noses of countries, and taking what they thought was theirs.

Clearly.

I shook my head again and placed the snake's head into my bag.

This was not part of my plan.

Chapter 3