"Stinking pile of camel shit!"

"While I would have expressed my opinion on the matter differently, in general, I must agree."

In silence, we watched the barricade set up around the oasis.

"Mr Ambrose?"

"Yes, Mrs Ambrose?"

"Do you have a telescope?"

Wordlessly, Mr Ambrose reached into his saddle bag and held up a collapsible telescope. Extending it, I lifted it to my eye, readjusted, and...

"Merde!"

"Language, Mrs Ambrose!"

"The French one, I believe. But that's not the bloody point right now! Don't you see these?" Lowering the telescope, I pointed at the small, elongated shapes sticking out above the barrier. From this distance, they could have been mistaken for sticks—if not for the fact that every now and again, the sunlight fell on them with a metallic glint.

"Rifles," Mr Ambrose stated coolly. "They've barricaded themselves at the canyon entrance."

"How the heck did they manage to overtake us?"

"It is not that surprising, actually." His eyes, which somehow even in the arid desert still managed to be ice-cold, bored into the distant rock wall. "The horses those desperados ride are definitely faster than a heavy, metal-reinforced carriage. Add to that the fact that they probably had additional horses to switch..."

He let his words trail off. I didn't really need him to finish to get his meaning.

"Bloody hell! What are we going to do now?" I slapped my saddle, eliciting an annoyed bleat from Ambrose Junior. "Isn't there any path to get around that canyon? Any other way through the desert?"

"Certainly, Mrs Ambrose."

"Ah, well, then—"

"If you do not mind dying from thirst in the desert."

"Ugh."

What a loving, caring husband I had.

He pulled out a map and, unfolding it, pointed to several marked spots. I couldn't help but notice a geographical formation that looked very much like a long gorge.

"In the shadow of the canyon, several ponds and small oases have formed at regular intervals. The canyon is the only place where we can restock our water supplies between here and the town of Scorpion's Trail on the other side."

"Hm..." Thoughtfully, I stroked my chin. "Aren't there other entrances into the canyon?"

"There are. But if we use them, the outlaws could simply retreat to the next oasis and set up another ambush. And another. And another."

"So...what you are saying is, we would have to find some way to convince them to kindly stay put while we find a more palatable pathway?"

"Indeed, Mrs Ambrose."

"Hm..." Thoughtfully, I stroked his chin.

Hey, don't look at me like that! Why would I still be fiddling around with my own chin when I could be fondling my handsome hubby instead?

"Mrs Ambrose?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Cease tickling my jaw!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Regretfully, I retracted my hand from his face. I did not, however, retract my gaze from the distant canyon entrance. I stared at the entrenched outlaws and cocked my head, deep in thought.

"Mrs Ambrose? What are you plotting?"

"Me?" Turning towards my husband, I batted my eyelashes up at him innocently. "Why would you think I'm plotting something?"

"Because you have not yet been replaced by a doppelganger."

"You...! Are you saying I'm always plotting?"

"Aren't you?"

"Not all the time."

"Like when you are sleeping, for example?"

I jammed my elbow into Mr Ambrose's ribs. Not that he looked like he noticed. "Hey! I'm not that devious!"

In answer, he just met my eyes and said nothing. Damn him for making silence so bloody expressive!

"Tell me." He leaned over, and his deep, dark, sea-coloured eyes bored straight into my soul. "I will not let you put yourself in danger. What. Are. You. Plotting?"

"How can I possibly already have a plan to deal with this if even you, my amazing husband, haven't figured something out yet?" Oh my, was I good at bullshitting. I should set up my own fertilizer company. "Let's sleep on it, all right?" I gave him a sweet smile. "Who knows, by morning we might have gotten an idea."

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Is that so, Mrs Ambrose?"

"Of course, Mr Ambrose, Sir." I blinked innocently up at him. "I've often had amazing inspirations during the night. For instance, there was this one night right after my wedding when I got the idea to strip off all my clothes and—"

"Mrs Ambrose!"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Come here!"

A hand grabbed the back of my neck and I wanted to yelp, but the next moment, all words were abruptly cut off as his lips came down on mine.

That night, many marvellous inspirations came to me.

***

Several hours later, when darkness had descended over the desert and everybody but the guards had fallen asleep, a silent figure crept through the shadows. Strangely, even though this figure was dressed in a shirt and trousers, whenever a beam of moonlight fell upon it, it seemed to possess a feminine silhouette.

Yet it wasn't often the moonlight hit the figure. Unseen and unheard, it moved across the land. The closer it came to the canyon, the more difficult it became to see. There were guards marching around the oasis, true, but they were all blinded by bright camp fires, and didn't really pay attention to anything beyond a couple of yards around them. Why would they? They were safe behind their barricade. And if anyone dared shoot at them, those fools would be mowed down!

The silent figure did not shoot.

It did not approach all the way.

Instead, it stopped some distance away from the barricade and reached into its pocket. A moment later, its arm began to move, twirling in the darkness. Faster. And faster. And faster. And—

The figure let go.

Something flew through the air, high, high above the guards' heads. And then...

Plop!

A guard whirled around at the sound, pointing his rifle towards the centre of the camp. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Didn't you hear that? That noise? Like a stone dropping in a bathtub?"

"What noise? Stop imagining things! There's nothing there!"

The other guard grumbled and returned to his patrol. Neither of the two noticed the ripples slowly spreading on the pool of the oasis, as if something had just dropped into the water.

***

"Hmm...."

Sighing contentedly, I shifted and snuggled into my bed, enjoying my last glimpses of dreamland.

"Mrs Ambrose?" my bed interrupted my dreams.

"Hm? Whazzup, bed?"

"Remove yourself from on top of me. Now."

"But you're so comfy, bed!"

"Remove. Now."

"How do you manage to be so comfy?" Poking his ribs, I rubbed my nose against his chest. "You're made of granite. You should be hard, bed."

"Cease. Calling. Me. That!"

"All right, all right..." A pause. "...sofa."

With a low growl erupting from his chest, my bed grabbed hold of me and dumped me on the ground. I decided I would have to buy new furniture.

"You know," I mumbled, rolling around to face Mr Rikkard Ambrose. "That wasn't very polite."

"Since when does furniture care about politeness?"

I grinned. "Touché, my dear bed. Touché."

Yawning, I stretched. I guess it was time to get up. It wasn't as if I was particularly reluctant today, unlike most days of the week.

Smirking, I glanced over at the distant oasis.

In fact, I'm rather interested to start my day and see what interesting events will unfold.

"Karim?" Straightening up, Mr Ambrose buttoned his tailcoat since someone seemed to have unbuttoned his clothes at night to examine his abs a little more closely. No clue who could possibly be responsible. "Karim, report!"

No answer came. His fingers freezing halfway up his tailcoat, Mr Ambrose turned to stare at his bodyguard. He wasn't the only one. I looked over at the man, nonplussed. Because, taciturn as the big, bearded fellow might normally be, he had never ignored the call of his employer. Yet there he stood, staring off into the distance without a word. It didn't take long for Mr Ambrose and me to notice how he was staring at the distant oasis.

"Karim, report! Did something happen during the night?"

"Well, actually...yes, Ambrose Sahib. I am not sure what caused this, but some sort of sickness seemed to have spread through the desperados' ranks."

"Sickness?"

"Listen, Sahib."

We did as advised. And indeed, the morning wind that was still filled with the chill of the night carried sounds of moans and groans towards us. Mr Ambrose straightened up.

"This happened during the night?"

"Yes, Sahib. It started rather abruptly roughly two hours ago, and since then, they have been groaning and cursing all morning. It is almost as if they had been poisoned."

"Poiso—"

Mr Ambrose cut off, his spine stiffening. Inasmuch as solid rock can stiffen. Then, slowly, very slowly, he turned his head towards me.

"What did you do, Mrs Ambrose?"

"Pardon?" Blinking up at him innocently, I gave him my most earnest harmless-little-wifey expression. "What could you possibly mean, Sir?"

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "What did you even give them? I made sure to bring a variety of supplies on this expedition, but I am quite sure that large quantities of poison were not among them."

In answer, all I did was grin and hold up a large bottle with the label Fizzlewiz Drastic Digestion Draught.

"You didn't."

"Oh, I most certainly did." My grin gained a certain air of thoughtfulness. "You know, I never realized how much fun it could be to watch annoying people puke their guts out. Maybe I should take some of that stuff back with me to England. Or I could just have someone build a stable next to our house and bring back Ambrose Juni—"

"No."

Mr Ambrose's voice was cold, hard and absolute.

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"I did not need to. The answer is no. Absolutely and completely no."

Pouting, I patted Ambrose Junior's flank. "Don't take it personally. Deep down, I'm sure he loves you."

"Blllaaaawwwk?"

"Don't worry. I'll always be there for you."

Right then, my uncaring husband decided to interrupt my heartfelt moment. "I need information. How much did you give them? Enough so they are weak enough to be ambushed?"

Reluctantly stopping the petting session with my new favourite pet, I considered his question for a moment. "No, I don't think so. I poured in a whole lot of stuff, but even if I did, I doubt our dear, law-abiding marshal would carry around deadly poisons in his case. So they should be puking their guts out right now, but if we really try and press them, they'll probably start firing everything they've got at us. And considering this stuff contains ipecacuanha," I raised the bottle, "that's not a risk I'm willing to take."

"Hm." Mr Ambrose glanced over at the oasis, from which groans and curses were still rising into the morning air. "Agreed."

"You heard the man," I called out, my gaze sweeping over the assembled men and their camels in a not at all sadistic way. "Everyone, mount up! Let's have a nice, relaxing morning ride, shall we?"

I had the pleasure of seeing Mr Ambrose's collective security detail turn green and clutch at their stomachs in pre-emptive nausea.

"You...!" one of them wheezed, glancing between me and Mr Ambrose. "Does he pay you to torture us?"

"Nah." Shaking my head, I sent a beaming smile their way. "I do that all for free. Aren't I amazing?"

Then I swung up into the saddle and, whistling, spurred Ambrose Junior on towards the distant rock wall.

"Come on!" I called out, glancing back. "What are you waiting for?"

Behind me, I heard the sound of reluctant men climbing into the saddle. The protesting bleats of camels rose into the air as they were harnessed to the carriages. Moments later, everyone set out and, veering off from the dusty path that led straight to the oasis, we moved in a slightly different direction, showing our enemies our lovely camels' backsides.

"What do you think?" I enquired, catching up to Mr Ambrose and giving him a smile. "Do you believe our friends appreciate the lovely cocktail I left behind for them?"

Beside me, my husband, his face completely stoic, stony and expressionless, gave a curt nod. "Indeed."

***

Some distance away, behind a certain barricade, choked sounds of regurgitation rose into the air.

"Grrgh! Aagh! Goddamn frigging shit!"

The half-growl, half-bellow erupted from behind the barricade. Slowly, a trembling hand emerged from behind the rough wood, grabbed hold of it, and...

It slipped away again. Moments later, more sounds of vigorous puking joined the chorus.

After a minute or two, the hand reappeared again, grabbed the barricade more firmly, and its owner pulled himself up. An angelic face with bright blue eyes appeared above the barrier, only slightly less handsome due to the deathly pallor of its skin and the murderous look in its eyes.

"You..." Creed hissed. "Whoever you are, just you wait! I'm going to get you for this!"

---------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

Ah, I do enjoy Lilly hatching devious plans! I hope you liked the chapter as well?

Yours Truly

Sir Rob