Page 73

“What is happening?” There’s a note of panic in my voice as the group of us—including Ferox and my horse—is ushered into an empty tent nearby.

No one has told you what’s happening?Memnon says, clearly eavesdropping.

No, will you?

I feel his smile down our connection. With me, Memnon is often sweet and earnest, but right now, I sense another emotion commanding him, one that is neither sweet nor earnest. Whatever it is, it’s hungry. Excited.

I’d rather find you first, he says. The tone of his words raises gooseflesh on my skin.

Katiari puts a finger to her lips, and the rest of the group goes deathly silent.

The outside noise grows louder, and as it gets closer, I can make out individual howls and shouts from men, along with the pounding of many, many hoofbeats.

I look from face to jovial face, confused about what exactly is happening. The hoofbeats grow thunderous, and suddenly, it’s as though a stampede of them is upon us. Outside the tent, dozens of mounted riders gallop by on the open steppe beyond the tent, howling and whooping.

Little witch, where are you?Memnon calls.Come out, come out.

He’s more than a little convincing, but when I take a step toward the curtained doorway, Katiari snags the back of my kurta.

“Not yet,” she whispers.

The thunderous sound of the mounted riders seems endless, but eventually it does taper off, their cries growing fainter until they vanish altogether.

In the silence, I finally whisper, “What in the gods’ names was that?”

“That was your husband and his men, looking for you,” Tamara says curtly.

Katiari says, “Hurry, we need to get the horse out and Roxilana on it.”

With that, I’m bustled back out of the tent, where the onlookers linger, their faces growing ever more excited when they see us.

Katiari brings the horse to my side.

“Up, up,” Tamara orders me.

I don’t stop to ask her about the urgency in her voice. I hoist myself up and into the saddle, swinging into the seat easily. Unlike my Roman garments, the tunic and breeches I wear were made for riding.

“This is what will happen next,” Tamara explains. “You will ride as far and fast as you can. It is my son’s job to capture you and your horse.”

“Capture?” I repeat incredulously.

“To prove he will follow you wherever you may wander,” Katiari explains. “It’s a wedding thing.”

“Once he’s caught you,” Tamara continues, “he will bring you back here, where the wedding rites will be held.”

The howls, which had faded away entirely, now start up again.

“They’re heading through camp!” one of the onlookers shouts.

“Better get going,” Tamara warns as Katiari hands me the reins. “Oh, and, Roxilana?”

I glance down at Memnon’s mother.

“The longer a bride can hold off being captured, the stronger a match they’re said to be.”

I’ve barely had a chance to process that when Katiari slaps the horse’s rump and the creature takes off, running out of camp and into the wild grass beyond. The golden ornaments on my kurta tinkle and my unbound hair whips behind me, and I have the wild urge to laugh.

From my periphery, there’s a flash of black, and I glance over to see Ferox bounding alongside me. He looks exhilarated, like this is all great fun to him.