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S omeone or something stalked Sholei.

The small hairs on her arm rose and a thin, cold sweat broke on her back, making her hyper vigilant of the silent trees. The air stilled, and birds’ chatter went silent. Sholei snaked her hand into her medicine basket and felt around for the small dagger she carried for protection. Her frantic fingers failed to locate the blade, and her heart hammered in her chest. She swallowed and turned her head around.

The talons of a large eagle almost scratched her eyes out.

Sholei shrieked as the wings of the big bird whipped about her face. Her head scarf fell off and exposed her tattoos to the midday sun. She dropped her basket to protect her face just in time for the talons to sink into her forearms. With renewed strength, she flung her arms around and hit the large bird again. The assault stopped and the bird flew away, leaving Sholei to bleed into her cotton sleeves.

She didn’t have time to recover as a horse neighed behind her. She turned to see the tallest horse she had seen in her short life. Its black coat shone against the bright light. It neighed again and brought her attention to the rider strewn across its back—a lump of a human covered with a dark cloak draped across the horse’s flank. A single arrow protruded from his back, his face hidden against the neck of his steed. The rider’s big hand clutched the reins of the horse.

Curiosity, or maybe old habits, drew Sholei closer to the injured rider. She couldn’t see his face because a mass of long, dark locks hid his features from view. The horse stayed still as she stretched her hand and touched the rider’s hard fist. His skin was hot, and Sholei withdrew as if burned.

The man raised his head, and his eyes flashed at Sholei. The color of burning coals stared back at her. Sholei opened her mouth to scream, but a large, calloused palm covered her mouth. His fingers dug into her face, and she stumbled back, panicked. The thick foliage cushioned her fall as the man pinned her down in a swift move from his horse.

“Who are you?” the injured man asked, his voice low and guttural. Sholei stared at those burning eyes. His wild locks tumbled down his broad shoulders and waved before him, hiding part of his face from view. Her limbs trapped beneath her, Asaa couldn’t move. The man’s body was like iron wrapped in skin, and Sholei couldn’t feel any softness through the layers of clothes between them.

“I will remove my hand if you promise not to scream. Nod if you understand.” Her breath grew labored as words dried in her throat. She nodded in response. She had wandered off a long distance from the guard post in search of herbs, and no one was around to hear her, even if she screamed.

The man removed his hand from her mouth, and Sholei took a deep breath. His hand moved to her neck, and he pressed a knife against it. Her heartbeat increased tenfold.

“I’m a physician. I can heal your wound.” She blurted out the only words she could think of—anything to get this boulder of a man off her.

The man flinched as if he remembered his injury. He withdrew the knife from Sholei’s neck, leaned on his knees, and clutched his shoulder. Sholei recalled the lessons of her best friend, Tula. When you’re trapped underneath an opponent, you use your head to knock his chin.

Sholei used her head and knocked the man’s chin. Hard. He grunted and tumbled to the ground, onto his back. She got up from underneath him and dashed for the tree line. She’d taken fewer than ten steps before a fallen tree branch hit the back of her knees, causing her to fall face first, narrowly missing a protruding tree root.

Sholei glanced back at the man on his knees, glaring at her, the sneer on his face half hidden by his long hair. He tumbled forward and crumpled onto the forest floor.

Sholei waited for a few moments to see if he’d move, but he lay prone .

Was he dead? She should run to the patrol guards stationed outside the forest to report the presence of the intruder, but her feet trudged toward the fallen man.

She raised the branch he’d used to trap her above her head and approached him. She kicked the knife in his hand away, she expected him to wake up, but he didn’t. She pushed the hair back from his nose with shaky fingers and felt for his breath.

He was unconscious, his breaths shallow.

Sholei relaxed her shoulders and dropped the stick. Her knowledge of medicine told her he wouldn’t get up anytime soon. She thought to leave him there, but a loud screech from a nearby tree made her gaze up to the eagle that attacked her earlier. Its beak opened and its wings spanned outward, ready to swing down. It would make a meal of the man if she left.

Against her better judgment, Sholei examined the man’s wounds. She worked at the medicine courtyard in the capital and had learned to diagnose patients who visited— patients who couldn’t afford the expensive services of the Imperial Physicians.

The arrow in the rider’s back was made of steel, and its design was foreign to the ones she had seen from the soldiers of Mukuru Kingdom. The shaft was pure steel with four small tails. They sported a small insignia—one she didn’t recognize. The man groaned when she turned him to his side, as she tried to assess his wound further.

She unclasped the golden brooch underneath his shoulders and removed his dark coat. Beneath the heavy material was a loose blue undercoat. Blood coated the luxurious velvet material common to the traders from the northern kingdoms. Was he a merchant? What was he doing deep in the forests of Mukuru Kingdom? Sholei removed the undercoat and touched his dark skin. His shoulders were strong and broad. He wasn’t overly muscular, but sculpted and toned. Tattooed wings were inked between his injured shoulder blades.

Sholei resisted the urge to stare at his sinewy muscles as heat crawled up her neck. She faced many men in various stages of undress in the medicine yard, but never had she reacted to one like that. Sholei trained her eyes on the hideous wound beneath his left shoulder blade as she pondered how to remove the arrow. She retrieved her medicine basket and assessed the meager supply. White pus surrounded his festering wound.

His horse moved to stand under a tree, the same tree the infuriating bird perched on, and its sharp eyes on Sholei.

Soon it would be sundown, and Sholei doubted if she’d be able to return to the medicine yard before dark. It was pure luck they were near a river. She couldn’t drag the man and resorted to creating a crude shelter around him. The plains might be warm during the day, but a slight cold could do a patient like him in.

Sholei set up the shelter with tree branches and leaves and returned to remove the shaft. Wrapping white bandages around the wound, she took a deep breath and tugged it from his shoulder. The man groaned but didn’t move. She tossed the weapon aside, Sholei cleaned the wound and applied herbs to stop blood flow. By the time she was done, darkness was creeping in around them .

As a physician, Sholei spent some nights in the forest when she and Musembi foraged for herbs. On that day, she was alone, as her mentor was passed out drunk in their yard. Sholei collected small twigs and started a fire. She burned herbs to ward off bugs and keep predators in the dark.

She turned to her patient and examined his exposed chest. Unusual scars crisscrossed his skin from his shoulders to his toned stomach, seven in total. As he lay close to the warm fire light Sholei gazed at his body unabashedly. Who was this man with a tattoo on his back and scars on his chest? His blue pants sat low on his waist, and Sholei used his thick cloak to cover his body. His long, muscular legs were encased in black, knee-length leather boots.

Military-issued boots. Sholei’s eyes widened as she gazed closely at the black leather shoes. Why was he dressed as both a trader and a soldier? She walked toward his horse and removed the small package from the beast’s flank.

She carried the small leather bag with her and settled before the fire. Sholei unwrapped it to discover darts and daggers of different sizes. In another package, she found dried cured meat and fruit. She wasn’t one to steal from her patients, but her earlier task on the injured man sapped all her energy. She took one bite of the dried beef, and before she knew it, she had consumed everything.

She went on with her perusal and she came across an insignia. The golden head of a lion shone in the firelight, and Sholei nearly jumped out of her skin. She threw the crest aside and stood up.

Dembe army .

The wounded man was a Dembe soldier. Her pulse raced, and her hands grew clammy as she picked up the insignia again. It was indeed the crest of Dembe’s army. Everyone in Mukuru heard stories of the ferocious military. The Dembe swept down kingdoms and left nothing but destruction on their warpath. There were rumors that their next target was the Keseve Market, a strategic entry point to the southern kingdoms,the Mukuru Kingdom being the biggest.

She attended to a Dembe soldier.

Sholei bit her lower lip. The Mukuru army sent messengers to inform the residents to report sightings of the men in black armor and golden lion emblems to the nearest watchtower. A generous prize awaited anyone with true information. Sholei’s mind raced as she recalled the prize money. With the funds, she could journey to the Faye Islands, join the Imperial Physicians, and become a student at the Academy.

She would reach the nearest watch tower in a few hours if she left now and reported her findings. The man was heavily injured. He wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

Sholei collected her basket as she prepared to leave, but a loud screech stopped her. The large eagle swooped again and tried to attack, but she was prepared. She picked up a flaming torch and waved it in the air, keeping the sharp talons away. The eagle went back to the tree and perched.

Sholei cursed the bird. If she left, the injured man would become easy picking for the infuriating bird. Since she decided to attend to his wounds, she had to see that he didn’t perish during the night. A deranged bird wouldn’t taint her record of being a miraculous physician.

Sholei decided to leave in the morning. With the man’s wounds, he would be incapacitated for days.

She put the insignia in her robes as evidence then wrapped the weapons just like she found them. Then she stretched before the man and gazed up at the night sky. Apart from the angry bird, everything was calm. The heavens were dotted with endless stars. The night air was filled with the sound of the gurgling river and singing crickets. The cool breeze washed over them. Soon, Sholei couldn’t keep her eyes open as sleep encroached on her. With a final look at her patient, she stoked the fire and prayed the angry bird wouldn’t nibble on them in their sleep.

That night, for the first time in a long time, Sholei wasn’t chased by beasts in her dreams.

Ojore opened his eyes to a warm body snuggled against his chest.

He groaned as he felt a sharp pain in his back. The memories of the past came crashing back. Assassins had shot him as he scouted the Keseve Market. He managed to get away on his horse before he passed out. A woman with wide eyes stared at him when he came to. The same woman snuggled in his arms, her face buried in his chest. His heavy cloak was wrapped around them, and their limbs tangled beneath the weight of the fabric.

For one of the few times in his life, Ojore didn’t know what to do. The women he met in the entertainment houses he visited back home were to satiate his urges. He never stayed long enough to hold them as intimately as the one in his arms. They appreciated the generous coins for their time more than anything. The woman’s breath was warm against his skin, and for some reason, he didn’t want to get up. She snuggled closer, a hand crossed over his chest, and she mumbled something under her breath he didn’t catch.

He gazed up to the sky. The air was permeated with the faint scent of butters, oils, and perfumes. He inhaled deeply and realized the alluring scent came from the woman at his side.

He shifted, exposing her face, and his breath caught at her blatant beauty. Her lashes were long and created a subtle shadow across her cheeks. He recalled her eyes were wide and bright. Her nose was small and slightly upturned, and her wide lips were parted. Ojore stifled an urge to trace his fingers on the plump flesh.

Above them, the sharp screech of an eagle rang and Ojore rose from his stupor. He recalled where he was and eased himself from the woman’s embrace, away from the crude bedding. His back ached, and a white bandage wrapped across his chest. The woman hadn’t lied. She was indeed a physician. He glanced around in the dim morning light and noticed her medicine basket. Herbs lay inside beside a bloodied arrow. The same one that had lodged in his back.

He picked it up and walked to where Radi stood. The horse neighed, and Ojore patted the animal’s nose.

“How did we get here?” Ojore asked his trusted steed. Radi was an intelligent horse and knew the way back to the military camp. If he’d been unconscious, why had his mount traveled in the opposite direction? Ojore glanced at the top of the tree, where the unnaturally large eagle perched. Its golden eyes glowed in the morning light.

“You again,” Ojore hissed. The eagle stretched its wings and cowed at him. Behind him, the woman turned. She would wake soon. He retrieved a band from his wrist and wrapped his hair in a high bun. Afterward, he walked to the river and washed his face. He wasn’t worried about Mukuru patrol guards finding him. The eagle would notify him at the slightest hint of danger.

The wise move to make was to flee before the woman woke up. He checked his luggage and got ready to leave. Ojore walked to the woman to look at her one last time. With the unique tattoos on her head, it wouldn’t be hard to find her once Mukuru fell. As he stood and memorized her features, her wide eyes snapped open.