It was enough to confirm Shahid's instincts. Like a dove to its cote, the ferengi was going to circle Bokhara and head west toward his own home rather than penetrate deeper into Turkestan.
Gathering his soldiers, Shahid set off at a gallop. He should be able to seize his prey before reaching the Oxus, but even if he did not, no matter. If necessary, he and his handpicked patrol would follow their quarry into the Kara Kum.
Like a hound on the scent, nothing save death could stop Shahid now.
Chapter 25
Even a dozen strenuous years in Persia had not prepared Juliet for the rigors of their flight across the Kara Kum. The scorching sands were an anvil for the sun, the merciless rays a hammer that pounded their frail human bodies. Without the cooling effect of the "wind of a hundred days," it would have been impossible to cross the Kara Kum at all.
But the wind could also be an enemy, for summer was the season of sandstorms. Half a dozen times a day, flurries of biting sand slowed their progress and clogged their lungs, though they were never struck by another storm as violent as the one that had trapped Ross and Juliet in the dunes.
After they had been ferried across the Oxus, they rode for twenty-four hours straight until exhaustion forced them to rest under improvised tents made of stretched blankets. Even then, the baking heat made real sleep impossible.
When the sun neared the horizon, they remounted and pushed on, riding through the night and the next morning to reach a feeble well around noon. The small amount of water available was not enough to refill their waterskins, so they halted for several hours while more water oozed into the well from the deep sands. Then they were off again.
The choice of the secondary route across the desert had been a good one, for after crossing the Oxus they saw no other travelers. Guided by compass and stars and Murad's carefully researched knowledge, they made their way across the trackless wastes. Though they avoided the softest sand, which would slow their mounts, soon both humans and horses were tinged the dusty yellow-brown that was the color of Central Asia in summer.
By the third day Juliet was sure they were safe from pursuit. Nonetheless, when they stopped for their midday rest, Ross climbed to the top of a nearby hill with his small spyglass to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity. Too exhausted to sleep, Juliet decided to join him, knowing that it would be restful to spend a few minutes alone with her husband.
Ross sat in the shade of a rocky outcropping, gazing at the shimmering heat-drenched hills with the spyglass idle in his lap. Juliet knew he'd slept less than any of them, for even during halts he stayed alert for danger. He managed a tired smile when she sat down beside him. "How are you faring?"
"Well enough." She sighed and loosened her tagelmoust so that she could feel the wind on her face. "But when I get home, I'm going to spend the first week alternating between my bed and the hammam."
There was no water for shaving, and several days' worth of gold stubble glinted on Ross's jaw, but he was still the handsomest man she had ever seen. Needing to touch him, Juliet laid her hand over his where it rested on his thigh. He turned his hand over and interlaced his fingers with hers.
Peace and comfort seemed to radiate from their joined hands. Her tired mind was intrigued to learn that such simple contact could be so soul-satisfying, as refreshing as water in the desert.
"It won't be much longer now," Ross said. "We're at the halfway point."
They sat in silence, enjoying the moments of closeness, until Juliet said, "Alone among us, Ian is getting stronger rather than weaker. The first night, when you had to lash him to his saddle and lead his horse, I was afraid he'd never survive the trip."
"Instead he ate as much as he could, slept like the dead when we stopped, and woke up capable of managing his own mount. He's incredibly strong, or he would never have survived the Black Well." Ross's eyes twinkled. "No doubt Ian would say that a dungeon is good preparation for an arduous journey."
Juliet tightened her fingers around Ross's. "I'm almost afraid to say it out loud, but it looks like we might have accomplished the impossible." Suddenly she grinned. "And much as I hate to admit it, my mother's intuition was correct."
"What happens when we reach Serevan?" Ross asked softly.
Juliet's brief sense of well-being ebbed away. "I don't know," she said, her words no more than a whisper.
"No more do I." Ross released her hand and lifted the spyglass to scan the horizon. Then he stopped and frowned.
"Do you see something?" Juliet asked.
"A dust cloud that looks more like riders than a sandstorm." He handed the spyglass to her. "What do you think?"