Free Star of Cursrah by Clayton Emery Page B

grabbed a bota and took a long drink, but her stomach rumbled and she frowned. “Stupid of the stable hands to give us only water,” she complained.
    “What would you expect?” Tafir said, circling, searching for a spent arrow amidst the tall grass. His black gelding danced and fidgeted, so he tugged the reins close. “They don’t keep rations in a stable. You should have raided the kitchen.”
    “I’ve never been to the kitchens in my life,” she confessed. Star shook back her cornrows and brushed her dusky cheeks. The sun grew warm, and chaff stuck to her skin. “The stable master should have fetched a picnic basket.”
    Tafir peered at his friend and asked, “Did you tell anyone you’d be gone past midday?”
    Star rolled her eyes. “Servants are supposed to anticipate our royal needs,” she said, “else why should we allow them to work in the royal compound?”
    Tafir squinted one eye, weighing what to say, if anything. Though he’d known Gheqet his whole life, having grown up as neighbors, Star was a new acquaintance and prone to sudden quirks. They’d known her only since the Harvest Festival. She’d been excluded from palace festivities and banished to Cursrah’s famous library to study. The daring princess had slipped away and met two commoners who didn’t realize the young woman who called herself “Star” was actually Samira Amenstar. In the months since, meeting first in secret then publicly, they’d become friends. While it was exciting to consort with royalty and genie-kin, Tafir and Gheqet sometimes wondered if her friendship was worth the danger it often brought them.
    Plying diplomacy, Tafir offered, “They tell us in the army that commoners are like dogs, smart enough to work but lazy—”
    A thundering roar shook the sky. A whinny pealed, and their horses squealed in response, then tried to bolt. Star’s white mare laid back its ears, eyes round and white-rimmed, and reared for a running start. The samira yelped and snatched for the pommel but felt her feet swing free of the leather loop stirrups. Trained to horses, Tafir leaned, grabbed her reins, and yanked down hard. Caught by the head, kicking dirt and grass, the terrified animal corkscrewed and stumbled. Jostled, Star pitched on her rump into the grass, but Tafir’s firm grip saved her from being trampled. As it was, she crabbed backward to avoid plunging hooves.
    “Mount up,” Tafir shouted as he struggled to hold both animals. “They’re after Gheq’s horse! We must stay mounted.”
    “What’s after Gheq’s horse?” Star asked. She scrambled up, unconsciously brushed her riding clothes, then grabbed for the pommel and swung into the saddle. “That roar! Was it—”
    “Hold tight or she’ll bolt,” Tafir interrupted. “Let’s go!”
    From saddle height, the two riders could see trouble. Across the heads of shimmering yellow-green lay a cavity where something thrashed in the grass. Gheqet and his mount had disappeared in that direction. Roars, snarls, another horse’s scream, and a rending, tearing shriek resounded. The horses were too terrified to approach, so their riders wrestled the reins, kicked and squeezed their knees, and finally slapped the broad rumps hard.
    Cursing, Tafir shouted, “Go left… I’ll go right. Gheq’s got to be—whoa!”
    Afoot, Gheqet lurched out of the concealing grass. His white work clothes were disheveled and grass-stippled. Blood ran down his neck.
    “Oh, thank Khises,” he gasped. “I got thrown and … there must be rocks….”
    He felt his head and was shocked by the blood.
    “It’s just a scalp wound,” Tafir said. He didn’t want his friend to faint and have to be carried. “Climb up behind Star, and hurry. We’ll—”
    “The grass,” Amenstar warned, “it’s stopped moving!”
    Amenstar spotted converging trails sizzling toward them like curved flights of arrows. Tafir shouted to Gheqet, but the dazed apprentice didn’t move, only turned to see where Star