Read Online Amongst Silk and Spice by Camille Oster - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Camille Oster
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he wouldn't care less.
He turned to walk down the street and Eloise considered grabbing something heavy and hitting him over the head. Although he would deserve it, she wasn't sure she could live with herself if she accidentally killed him—though likely he would have no qualms if the tables were turned.
Reluctantly, Eloise followed as they moved toward the gate to the city's walls. The hot winds and glaring sun hit her as soon as they left the protection of the city's structures, walking down a bare road that led away from the river.
The convoy was in the distance, but Hugo saw no need to catch up. Eloise suspected they would stay quite far from the main group, keeping them in sight to ensure they weren't wandering off, or worse, in circles. The desert claimed people, swallowed them up to never been seen again.
They walked for a few hours in compete silence. Eloise had nothing to say to him and he seemed to have little to say on any topic. Eventually her legs grew tired and Hugo bid one of the camels to kneel for her, which then lurched violently when it rose again, with her clasping tightly onto the saddle.
The eerie silence of the desert surrounded them. Only the wind could be heard as they headed out into complete nothingness, away from safety and civilization. Eloise wondered if this was what sailors felt when they headed out for a long voyage, alone and defenseless against the vast ocean, where there was no recourse if they ran into trouble. She didn't want to die in the company of Hugo Beauford. That would be too cruel a fate.
Eloise listened to Hugo's and the camels’ footsteps, letting her thoughts wander, which returned to England and all the unpleasantness attached to her last days there. She would never forgive her father for forcing her back, but truthfully, it was what he'd done to her mother that she would truly never forgive. His annulment of the marriage was what kept her safe—otherwise, she was bound to do anything he told her to, not allowed choice in anything but her own thoughts.
She watched Hugo as he walked ahead, still holding the reins of his camel, wondering what thoughts occupied his mind. She still couldn't get a grasp on him and what went on in his head, having no idea what concerned him, other than the perils of the desert. He was the consummate warrior, but there was also loss there—loss he kept well hidden.
The days blended together. They slept in beds they made with blankets, ate the dried meat and meal. The fruit and vegetables started rotting, except for the lemons and honey, which both lasted. She was actually impressed Hugo had bought the strange fruits, but they were in the provisions bag, and she suspected he would have been given them on first crossing the desert.
She still refused to talk to him and he remained silent as well. What was there to say? He knew her opinion of him and it hadn't changed.
The desert grew more solitary, though, less scrubs and only sand, the wind singling as it lifted the sand off the dunes.
They kept in sight of the convoy, but never made up the distance between them, until they reached the crescent lake monastery.
The Mohammedeans had stopped, still watering their camels when Hugo and Eloise reached the lake. The camels went straight for the water, drinking their fill, before hunching down, settling in the sand and eating the grain Hugo placed in bowls in front of them. The monastery was Buddhist, but they welcomed all travelers to their tiny oasis in the middle of the desert. The sand went all the way to the edge of the lake, shaped in the crescent around the monastery, surrounded by a small oasis of lush trees and plants.
The monks gave them food, which consisted of flavorful lentils and rice. It made for a wonderful change from the stodgy meal and dried meat, and Eloise sat down in the shade of a tree.
She'd taken to wearing her shawl over her head like a veil. The red material was sheer enough to see through, but it kept the sun
He turned to walk down the street and Eloise considered grabbing something heavy and hitting him over the head. Although he would deserve it, she wasn't sure she could live with herself if she accidentally killed him—though likely he would have no qualms if the tables were turned.
Reluctantly, Eloise followed as they moved toward the gate to the city's walls. The hot winds and glaring sun hit her as soon as they left the protection of the city's structures, walking down a bare road that led away from the river.
The convoy was in the distance, but Hugo saw no need to catch up. Eloise suspected they would stay quite far from the main group, keeping them in sight to ensure they weren't wandering off, or worse, in circles. The desert claimed people, swallowed them up to never been seen again.
They walked for a few hours in compete silence. Eloise had nothing to say to him and he seemed to have little to say on any topic. Eventually her legs grew tired and Hugo bid one of the camels to kneel for her, which then lurched violently when it rose again, with her clasping tightly onto the saddle.
The eerie silence of the desert surrounded them. Only the wind could be heard as they headed out into complete nothingness, away from safety and civilization. Eloise wondered if this was what sailors felt when they headed out for a long voyage, alone and defenseless against the vast ocean, where there was no recourse if they ran into trouble. She didn't want to die in the company of Hugo Beauford. That would be too cruel a fate.
Eloise listened to Hugo's and the camels’ footsteps, letting her thoughts wander, which returned to England and all the unpleasantness attached to her last days there. She would never forgive her father for forcing her back, but truthfully, it was what he'd done to her mother that she would truly never forgive. His annulment of the marriage was what kept her safe—otherwise, she was bound to do anything he told her to, not allowed choice in anything but her own thoughts.
She watched Hugo as he walked ahead, still holding the reins of his camel, wondering what thoughts occupied his mind. She still couldn't get a grasp on him and what went on in his head, having no idea what concerned him, other than the perils of the desert. He was the consummate warrior, but there was also loss there—loss he kept well hidden.
The days blended together. They slept in beds they made with blankets, ate the dried meat and meal. The fruit and vegetables started rotting, except for the lemons and honey, which both lasted. She was actually impressed Hugo had bought the strange fruits, but they were in the provisions bag, and she suspected he would have been given them on first crossing the desert.
She still refused to talk to him and he remained silent as well. What was there to say? He knew her opinion of him and it hadn't changed.
The desert grew more solitary, though, less scrubs and only sand, the wind singling as it lifted the sand off the dunes.
They kept in sight of the convoy, but never made up the distance between them, until they reached the crescent lake monastery.
The Mohammedeans had stopped, still watering their camels when Hugo and Eloise reached the lake. The camels went straight for the water, drinking their fill, before hunching down, settling in the sand and eating the grain Hugo placed in bowls in front of them. The monastery was Buddhist, but they welcomed all travelers to their tiny oasis in the middle of the desert. The sand went all the way to the edge of the lake, shaped in the crescent around the monastery, surrounded by a small oasis of lush trees and plants.
The monks gave them food, which consisted of flavorful lentils and rice. It made for a wonderful change from the stodgy meal and dried meat, and Eloise sat down in the shade of a tree.
She'd taken to wearing her shawl over her head like a veil. The red material was sheer enough to see through, but it kept the sun
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