perhaps,” Batu suggested, following, “he finally took your words to heart and headed for home. A man will only wait around so long while a woman holds him at bay.”
Thalia scowled at her old friend, who merely looked back at her with a calm, unperturbed expression. She took out her frustrations on her poor horse by giving the saddle cinch a hard tug, and the animal snorted and pawed at the ground in protest. Thalia patted it, contrite.
“We should get going,” she finally said. “Morning is here and we have at least three more days of traveling.”
Batu agreed, and together, they finished packing, then mounted their horses and began to ride west. They had camped in a wide gulley, and had to crest a small line of hills to continue on their way. Thalia felt strange and out-of-sorts, and tried to dismiss it as the result of a poor night’s sleep, but, deep inside herself, she knew it was because she had not said a proper farewell to Captain Huntley. He was gruff and commanding, yes, but he had also shown her an unexpected compassion. Between that and the insistent pull she felt toward him whenever he was around, she could have compromised herself badly had he stayed. He could have been more dangerous than Sergei. A letter shouldn’t hurt, though. If she only knew more about him, where he was headed, she might be able to write him a letter, thanking him for his service. But she knew almost nothing of him besides his name and rank, and finding him could be nearly impossible.
Thalia shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She needed to focus her attention on the task at hand. The Heirs would be hard on her heels, and she had to protect the Blades, do their work. This was the opportunity she had longed for, and she would be damned if she let anything, including herself, get in her way.
Yet all of her carefully constructed resolve fell away just as she and Batu came over the top of the hills.
Captain Huntley was waiting for them.
He was atop his horse, and, judging by the sheen on the animal’s hide, they had been riding for some time. As he wiped some dust from his face with a kerchief, he did not look at all surprised to see them, unlike Thalia, who felt a confusing mixture of happiness, relief, and anger.
“Good, you’re up,” he said as she and Batu trotted to meet him. “I’ve scouted the area and it looks clear, so we can move ahead.”
Thalia vowed to herself that she could be just as sanguine as the captain, while her heart, clearly not receiving the telegram from her head, capered inside her chest. “There’s a narrow gorge about three miles from here,” she said. “It could be a good place for an ambush.”
“Already secured it,” he answered.
“And a stand of larches a mile beyond could hide a group of riders.”
“That’s been taken care of, as well. Your friends don’t appear to be anywhere in the vicinity. I spotted a grouping of tracks, but they were headed north, not west.”
Thalia took a breath, scanning the horizon. She finally allowed herself to look at him directly, and found that the morning light turned his eyes to burnished coins. He must have slept less than she did, yet seemed to suffer no lingering trace of tiredness, no ill effects. In fact, with the golden sunlight playing across his cheekbones, the hard line of his jaw, and the slight fullness of his bottom lip, he looked quite enticing. It didn’t seem quite fair, not when Thalia was certain that she looked like the underside of a saddle.
“You’re quite thorough,” she said after a moment.
“Always am.” An almost teasing glint appeared in his eyes, warming them, warming her. “In everything.”
“Ah,” she cleverly answered. Thalia actually felt herself blush, something she hadn’t done since…since Sergei. And look how well that had turned out.
She resisted the urge to rub at her face, to try to hide the signs of her awareness of him, which would only draw further attention. His attention. Which she did not want. For so many reasons. Including the fact that she could easily respond to his attention, easily and eagerly. She would have to be careful, watchful, as much toward herself as toward him. Which meant that there would be no more blushing. There was a sizable difference between telling herself something and actually having it happen, however. She would have to take action, beginning immediately.
So: no flirtatious remarks from her. “We cannot stay here all day,” she said instead, and put her heels to her horse. The animal leapt into a gallop. Behind her, she heard Captain Huntley and Batu kick their horses into motion. As she listened to the horses’ hooves, felt the cool morning air against her face, something strange and surprising began blossoming within her, something she only later recognized as a secret happiness.
Chapter 5
The True Hammer of Thor
The servant, Batu, shouted something in Mongolian to Thalia. He sounded anxious. Her somewhat calmer answer was also in Mongolian, so he had no way to know what they were talking about. Huntley wasn’t sure if he should ask. Ever since that morning, when she had practically frosted over in response to his attempts at flirtation, Huntley had wisely decided to give her some room, and speak seldom.
Perhaps her father kept her isolated from the company of men. It might explain why she was skittish and abrupt with Huntley. Or, he thought wryly, perhaps his own ham-handed efforts at seduction could attract only the most jaded trollop that ever followed a regiment. Maybe he should have taken care of his sexual needs back in Peking. There had been a lot of opportunities, but Huntley had never been especially fond of paying for female company, which was the most available option, and he was also pressed for time. So he had ridden on, and now it seemed he was paying the real price. Clumsily flirting with a woman who would rather he had the good manners to be thrown from his horse and kicked in the head.
Their company of three had ridden in silence for the better part of the day. They hadn’t even stopped to eat, but instead, still in the saddle, they gnawed on more of the dried meat that Thalia had handed out. Thalia held the lead, while Huntley continued to ride at the back of the group, keeping his eyes and ears attuned to any sights and sounds. Occasionally, they passed a nomad herding sheep, and a few clusters of those large tents that Thalia called gers appeared in the distance, but she seemed intent on giving them a wide berth. Huntley admitted to himself his interest in the woman kept growing, and not only because she had a strong-featured beauty he’d seldom seen before. She campaigned well, almost as well as a seasoned veteran, and while no one would ever call her masculine, she wasn’t fragile. Perhaps the fact that he found this appealing was even more reason for him to get back to England as soon as this mission was over and find himself a tranquil wife whose favorite pursuits included embroidering slippers and pillow covers. His value system, as it stood now, was badly in need of repair.
The talking between her and the servant was growing more animated, and Huntley followed Batu’s finger as he pointed toward the east. The sky, which was clear overhead save for a few high, wispy clouds, appeared gloomy and threatening on the eastern horizon, behind them. Batu was clearly disturbed by this.
“A storm is coming,” Huntley said.
Thalia and Batu both looked at him as they reined in their horses. “Yes, a storm,” Batu agreed. “A bad one.” He spoke again to her in rapid Mongolian, and she shook her head.
“I thought there was hardly any rain in Mongolia,” Huntley said.
“There isn’t,” confirmed Thalia. She frowned at the northern sky, a worried line appearing between her straight black eyebrows.
“But the wind is blowing southward,” Huntley pointed out. “It should give us no trouble.”
The servant shook his head. “No. It heads toward us.”
“I don’t see how that could be possible.”
“But it is possible,” Thalia said, her voice tight. “It’s drawing closer. And I suggest we try to outride it.”
She was right. Even in the few minutes since their group had stopped, the small belt