The heel to the jaw jarred consciousness back with the most unpleasant jolt and the man who hung from the makeshift camel's saddle woke to possibly the worst sight he could. At that moment, he'd have rather woken to his General Commander looking down at him. His lord and master would be a safer option.

Or possibly not, because his lord and master was blatantly in love with his lady and mistress, meaning he was liable to let his feelings for her overrun any protentional feelings of mercy.

But that was neither here nor there because his lady and mistress was the one who had just slammed her heeled foot into his jaw and was now peering down at him to check that he was awake.

Her striking, icy blue eyes studied him for a moment as he gazed back at her, dazed and confused, then she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you're alive. That's a shame," she said before straightening and kicking off her high heel and replacing it with the slipper shoes she'd been travelling in. He looked around in confusion.

The last thing he remembered was a blazing pain in his thigh before he toppled from the back of the camel. Now it was dark and cold, the desert stretching around him and... he was back at the caravan.

How could he be back here?

The world began to come back into focus. He was on the sand which was starting to cool and Lady Marie-Fey was kneeling down by his wounded hip.

"Not a bad shot, considering the situation," she was said with mild interest. "The arrow has gone in from the back of the hip, down the thigh. I'm sure it will be infected soon, if not already. I doubt anyone would save it if they could, but the sepsis will kill you anyway. Of course, there's always the bleeding. The arrowing remaining in place is slowing the bleed currently but..."

She paused in her monologue... her monologue? He could understand her... hadn't it been well-noted that she couldn't speak his language...? He tried to lift his head to see her, and then the most impossible pain tore through him as she took hold of the arrow and wrenched it out again, the razor sharp edges of the weapon tearing back through his flesh with ease until she held it up for study.

He lay trembling on the ground, sweat pouring from his skin, feeling cold and sick and in shock of the woman who knelt at his side. This was the lady who was married to one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. The lady his lord was besotted with. She should have been the most beautiful, the most intelligent of the palace. He could see that, he believed that. He had seen her once before this journey, the day his lord had arrived after her poisoning. She had stood poised and striking before the hall.

He had been so impossibly impressed by that foreign lady.

But she wasn't supposed to just be attractive and clever. She should have been gentle, and demure. She should have been helpless in this moment.

Facing such betrayal, such bloodshed, such cruelty, she should have collapsed.

What she was doing instead, was striking him across the face when he reached for her and pressing the point of the arrow against his throat.

"Young man, stay still or I will add you to my death tally," she said coolly.

"How are you still alive?" he wheezed out.

"Disappointed?" she asked.

He paused for a moment, then swallowed. "No," he muttered.

She raised her eyebrow again then laughed. "An original form of flattery. I'm still going to tie you to one of the wagons when I leave and let you dry out in the sun." She pushed to her feet then suddenly clapped her hands together, like a little girl. "Oh!" she said, smiling down at him, "I have an even better idea! I'll tie you up and then leave a flask of water just out of reach. If you free yourself, you get water. If not, aww, poor dear."

He just closed his eyes, turning his head as she turned away, laughing at her idea.

"I didn't want to die," he muttered.

"Oh! You didn't want to die?" she said, walking back and leaning over him, her hands on her thighs as she tilted her head, studying him just like her falcon who perched on one of the carriages. "See, here's the funny thing about that," she said, crouching down again, "That whole issue of you not wanting to die. You say that as if that will excuse your actions, and while I respect the fact that you didn't want to die, the main issue lies in this."

She tapped his cheek with the arrow point until he looked at her and she wasn't smiling.

"I didn't want to die either," she finished.

"But you didn't."

"Neither did you, funny that."

She rose to her feet again and pulled a small card from the bodice of her gown. That wasn't the dress she'd been wearing during the attack. This was lighter, easier to move in. But she would be too cold...

He watched as she went to her falcon and tied the little card around one leg then stroked the bird's head.

"Well, hopefully you'll find your way home, but if not, just keep yourself alive," she said, her voice distressingly gentle before she stepped back and the bird took flight, like she understood her mission.

They both watched the shadow fade into the sky, then Lady Marie-Fey turned her attention back to him.

"Name," she ordered.

"Zufar al-Saleh," he replied.

"You're one of Zaydan's men?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, he ordered this attack?"

"What?" he choked out, his eyes widening. "No, no he would never."

"And yet one of his men is involved in my attack."

"Because those who were fighting to protect you were being killed!"

"Ah, so you're a coward who switched sides in the middle of battle."

"I was scared!"

"Are we going to play this game again?"

"Game?"

"Where we identify our similarities."

He looked away and she prodded him with her foot.

"If Zaydan didn't organise the attack, do you have any idea who might have?"

"No," he said, and she sighed, planting her hands on her hips.

"So, you're useless to me. Very well then."

He turned his attention back to her, and adrenaline exploded through him, making him scramble backwards as she picked up a dagger.

"Wait! Wait a moment!" he cried.

She glared at him. "You do not get to tell me to wait for anything. Even if you were in my good graces, if I told you to drive this dagger into your stomach, I would expect that order carried out without delay, and in a location that assured you did not make a mess of my floor."

She flipped the dagger in her fingers, and he choked with fear before she turned away.

"As it is, I have enough blood on my hands from this stunt. And, as we have established, I don't want to die. So, I need to prepare to travel."

"Travel? Where?"

"The city we left yesterday."

"Impossible, you'll get lost. There's no roadmap in the sand, the desert moves, it can't be trusted."

"True, the sand is unreliable," Marie-Fey said, tilting her head back. "But the stars are loyal, they guide the lost ones' home."

He looked up at the stars and she walked away.

"Can you move?" she shouted back at him.

He looked in the direction she had gone. She was behind the carriage.

"I... I don't know."

She appeared again with bandages. Dropping down beside him, she bound the wound tight then smacked his leg, making him whimper.

"Walk or crawl, I don't care, but come help me pull my maid from the carriage."

She rose again and, after a moment, he carefully pushed to his feet. He couldn't really put weight on his leg, so he limped to follow her. When he rounded the carriage, he saw that she had manged to dig out the door and she had climbed down to crouch beside the body of the lady she had travelled with.

Of course, he knew about Maanah, one of the famed beauties of the palace, but he couldn't understand why she was bothering with moving this girl, she appeared to be dead.

"I'm going to push her up, you're going to pull her out, understand?" she said. He didn't argue, just lay on the sand and held out his arms. Lady Marie-Fey pushed her high enough that he was able to get his hands under Maanah's arms and he started to pull as she pushed. "Be gentle, I don't want the wound at her side to deepen," she ordered.

Bit by bit, they worked the body free and Marie-Fey left him to hold the girl as she called one of the camels over. They obeyed like they understood her, listening as she spoke and following each command without so much as a grumble.

The one who had dragged him across the desert stood watching, chewing as the other knelt down.

"Help me sit her on the camel and hold her up until I tie her in place."

He did as ordered, and Lady Marie-Fey secured her maid in place.

After that, she began pulling bags from the equipment wagon, emptying them out and studying the contents, selecting a few choice items before moving on.

"Come on! Bring the bag!" she called, and he followed along as she reached the food wagon.

There was a hole in the side, she's clearly already been in there earlier that night. She climbed into the darkness and, after a few minutes of rummaging, she reappeared with food and waterskins. She dumped them in the bag he carried. She vanished and reappeared again with more until it was full.

"Return that to the camels and then return to the weapons wagon with another bag," she said, dropping down and walking away.

When he finally returned to her, making his slow way along the caravan, she had already found the weapons she wanted.

She had a bow slung over her shoulder and a set of arrows in one hand. She threw in a set of daggers and a sword, then retrieved more arrows. He had heard about her skill as an archer, and she had shot both himself and the solider he'd tried to escape with, but...

"Was it a lucky shot?" he asked.

Marie-Fey glanced at him, then looked around.

"There," she said, pointing to the very end of caravan, to an arrow that stuck out of wood.

Fitting an arrow, she drew her bow, and with barely a pause to aim, she fired. The arrow slammed into the exact same spot as the one that was already there. She drew a second arrow, fired and hit the exact same spot then turned to him.

"It was an unlucky shot," she said, "If the wind hadn't been what it was, you would have an arrow in your neck rather than your leg, like your friend."

"He wasn't my friend," he muttered.

"Well he certainly wasn't your foe," she said, passing him. "So, if you do try anything silly, I'm quite happy to put the arrow where it's supposed to go."

He looked down at the weapons she'd left him with, then slowly looked away. "It doesn't matter," he said.

She glanced back at him and he met her eyes, watching the moonlight glint in the pools of luminous blue as her rich, dark hair drifted out around her. She reminded him of a vixen, beautiful and cunning and astute. Someone would be able to trap this lady one day, but it wouldn't be him or the men who underestimated her. He understood why Lord Zaydan was infatuated with this woman.

"Whether you kill me now with an arrow, leave me to the elements, or take me back. I'm going to die."

Lady Marie-Fey tilted her head at that, in agreement. "Yes, most likely," she said, "And are you going to try and kill me in one last ditch attempt to survive. You could overpower me now, steal one of the camels, ride off into the horizon and no one will ever know."

She drew another arrow and absently spun it through her fingers, the elegance of the movement almost hypnotising.

"Last chance, Lion, are you going to take the coward's way out?"

He looked at her in confusion. "Lion?" he copied.

"Your name means 'like a lion' or 'brave', does it not?" she explained, stilling the arrow. "So far you have not shown me any bravery. You're a coward." She shrugged and turned away. "But you're a survivor as well, I suppose. I can hardly blame you for that. You're right that if you come with me, you're probably going to die, but that's not my concern. And frankly, it shouldn't be yours either, not right now. Your only concern is this. Do you help me, or hurt me?"

He stared at her, looked at the dagger he held in his hand, looked back at her as she stood calm and unfazed.

"It's like you're scared of nothing," he said.

"People say that to me a lot. I don't know why. I'm scared. I just won't be stalled by my fear."

He looked at the dagger for a long moment, then slid it back into the bag, closed the bag up and adjusted the strap across his body before limping towards her, falling into step beside her as they made their way back to the camels.

"I should have died for you," he muttered.

"And yet you didn't."

"No, but I will this time, if and when the time comes. Until then, I will get you home."

Lady Marie-Fey glanced at him, then nodded and looked away. "Alright, Zufar," she said, "Let's go home."

He nodded in reply and they fell into silent work as they gathered what they needed to make the journey back. A journey they could possibly not even survive in the shape they were in.

Zufar watched Lady Marie-Fey as she worked, steadfast and efficient, careful and quick.

"Maybe you'll be the last," he muttered, making her look up.

She frowned at him and Zufar looked up towards the stars that watched them in return.