Khouri showed the woman - staggering, cloaked - into the tent, and then at Rastaban’s look he steered Rhajj out.
“What message from the People back home?”
She sank to her knees at his feet, breathing light and shallow, clearly weak.
Rastaban leaned over her, concerned. “Do you need water? Food?”
She said nothing, and he saw her hands were trembling. Rastaban turned and reached for the tent flap to call for fruit and water, and a hand closed around his ankle.
“Wait.”
Rastaban froze. Something in her voice was...off. “What?”
She said, “You should get your sword.”
Screams erupted outside.
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