Guardians of the Desert (Children of the Desert) by Leona Wisoker Page B

although with rather more duties than northerns usually assigned—opened the door to announce the arrival of Lord Evkit. The teyanin lord walked into the room with a serene expression and no trace of apology in his manner. He slid a blank stare across Deiq, bowed to Lord Scratha and Alyea, then climbed onto one of the kneeling chairs without a word.
    Scratha drew in an audible breath, glanced down at the floor; let out the air in a long hiss. “Lord Evkit,” he said with commendable courtesy. “Thank you for coming.”
    “Lord Scratha,” Evkit answered promptly, then sat still as stone, patient as death.
    Scratha glanced at Deiq, as though seeking advice.
    Let it go , Deiq advised, pleased that the man had at least asked before opening his mouth to rebuke Evkit for tardiness. Scratha might just grow into a good leader after all.
    Scratha let out another long breath, returned his attention to the three in front of him, and said evenly, “I called you here to discuss your departure, my lords.” He dipped his head in an inclusive nod to Idisio, who squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.
    Alyea might be deaf still, but Idisio, at least, Deiq could reach as he would a desert lord. Damn it, sit up straight , he sent. You’re his equal, even his superior, don’t you dare cringe like that!
    Idisio jerked in his seat and almost turned to stare at Deiq; caught himself at the last moment and managed to stiffen his spine a little. Deiq restrained a sigh. Teaching Idisio to let go of his human, street-thief upbringing was clearly going to be as difficult as convincing Alyea to abandon her northern protocols.
    Scratha blandly ignored the young ha’ra’ha’s discomfort and observed, “My s’e-kath tells me that our other guests have cleared Scratha borders, and that only the teyanain remain at the gates. He also tells me that the rainy season is due to hit this area in a matter of days.” He folded his hands together on the desk before him. “I do not have the resources to host you through the coming months. So I have to ask, rather bluntly, when you plan on departing.”
    His gaze settled on Lord Evkit, and his mouth twisted a little. The tiny motion made it clear resources had little to do with his question.
    “My people ready to leave at Lord Alyea’s word,” Lord Evkit said, just as blandly.
    Deiq didn’t need to see Alyea’s face to know she was deeply annoyed at being backed into a corner once again. He wished he could speak to her as he had Idisio, to offer some guidance; and he knew Scratha and Evkit expected him to be doing just that. Any mistakes she made would be laid at his feet; something else he hadn’t gotten around to really explaining. But right now, she probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.
    Without hesitation, as though she’d already been thinking on the same question, Alyea said, “Would tomorrow morning suit, Lord Scratha? Lord Evkit?”
    “Absolute,” Evkit said. Lord Scratha nodded.
    “Excellent,” Alyea said briskly. “I’ll meet you outside the gates an hour before dawn, then, Lord Evkit.”
    Exactly the answer—and, more importantly, the attitude —Deiq would have advised himself. He smiled, pleased and a bit bemused. Alyea, like all new desert lords, wavered between old and new habits seemingly at random. He found himself looking forward to the day she finally settled into her new life—the day, by implication, that he could move on and be free of his obligation to this stubborn northern.
    His amusement faded, his mood darkening. In the back of his mind, he heard the accusation again: Foolishness . And his own tart remarks to Idisio: You’re not human. Stop thinking that way . . . it’s too damn frustrating for us.
    Raising his head, he found Evkit had left the kneeling chair and was staring straight at him.
    “You travel also?” Evkit inquired, black eyes grinning in an expressionless face.
    “Yes,” Deiq said tightly, then realized what he’d admitted to the sharp-eyed