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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 an ocean of golden hills all around Rosaleen and the sand radiated with a blazing heat that penetrated through her linen clothing with ease. There was no cloud to be seen in the stark blue sky above her and she wiped with her arm over her forehead, capturing some droplets of sweat with the white fabric of her layered clothing. Her blonde curls were tucked away under a headscarf to prevent herself from getting a sunstroke but being all covered up in this heat didn't make travelling any easier. It felt as if she was trapped in a massive furnace while the flames danced under her feet.

Rosaleen lay almost vertical up against a hill, carefully peeking over it to observe the happenings in the valley below her. The sand grains had long made their way under her clothing and though her skin felt irritated and itched in an annoying manner, the sight below her made her quickly forget all about it.

'Sand bandits,' Seren whispered next to her, confirming her thoughts. The Archenlander lay flat on his stomach as well and his usual hazel eyes shone in the same golden colour all around them as he observed the movements of the bandits. The sand people were known for roaming the desert between Calormen and Archenland ─ two kingdoms neighbouring Narnia ─, and robbing whoever had the bad luck of encountering them. This time however, they occupied the oasis they needed to refill their water pouch and with the day already coming to an end, they'd wanted to make camp there as well.

'Just our luck,' Rosaleen muttered and she glanced back at the Calormenen party she and Seren were supposed to guide through this vast ocean of golden fire.

The Prince of Tashbaan, Rabadash, still sat in the saddle of his horse, leaning forward in a bored manner to pat the horse on its neck as it shook restless with its white mane and tail. The Tisroc, since even the Prince was often called that, wore a white turban adorned with rare black gemstones that could only be delved from the soil of Calormen, and Rabadash obviously felt more comfortable in these searing surroundings than Rosaleen or Seren ever could be.

Seren scratched over the stubble of his dark beard thoughtfully as he watched one of the bandits watering the dromedaries. He looked to his side to catch Rosaleen's gaze as she turned her attention from the Tisroc towards him.

'Maybe they wouldn't bother us?' she thought out loud. 'They wouldn't dare to attack the Tisroc, right?'

Seren slowly shook his head. 'The opposite would be more likely. The sand bandits take pride in belonging to no country. Attacking royalty would be the highlight of their day.'

'Oh that's just lovely.'

Seren struggled to keep in his laughter and he quietly slid down the sand hill. As soon as he reached the foot again, he rose up out of his crouching position and gestured for Rosaleen to come down as well. 'It's up to the Prince,' he said.