Chapter 368: Papa is coming, Miryam.

Chapter 368: 368: Papa is coming, Miryam.


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Meanwhile, The net was already down over them. It was a reed mesh dusted with iron salt, the edges weighted with smooth stones wrapped in leather. Four lines ran from the net to four soldiers. They kept the lines tight so the mesh would not sag and scrape.


"Ease," the vice general said. His voice was calm and clear. "No blades on the mesh. Cut weight knots only. Do not bruise the small one."


He came down the dune in two long steps and knelt. He flicked one leather knot with the tip of a knife and let the weight drop free. Two soldiers copied him on the other corners. The net loosened on one side like a mouth opening.


"Lift the little beast first," he said. "Palms under. No grabbing."


A soldier slid both hands under Miryam’s friend and raised it like a sleeping bird. The creature thumped its tail once and went still. Another soldier set it on a folded mat beside the open cage frame that had been carried up the slope. The cage was made of smooth poles and curved ribs, tied with clean cord. Its floor sat low. The wide side flap was untied and open.


"Now the girl," the vice general said. "Not by the wrist. Under the paws."


Two soldiers stepped in. One lifted under Miryam’s arms. One steadied her feet so she would not tangle. They raised her slowly, set her down on the mat, and kept the net off her hair while a third slid the mesh back. Miryam kept her chin up. She folded her arms around herself and stared at the vice general without blinking.


He studied her once from head to toe. A carved beetle stone lay on his chest, dull and flat against the plate. He smiled with only one corner of his mouth.


"Set the cage," he said without looking away. "Poles seated. Lash tight. Then the dome."


Two men planted the cage legs deep and checked each joint with a pull. Another brought the small canvas roof and four pegs. He threw the canvas over the top and tied it to the cage frame so the shade fell full and even. A fourth man brought a short sling to fit under the cage so it could ride on a low cart later without scraping.


"Be quick. Be clean," the vice general said.


They moved the young friend first. One man lifted the flap. Another slid the mat and the animal through the opening and set it on the cage floor. It curled against the back rail, eyes half open, whiskers twitching.


"Now the yellow golden one," the vice general said.


The soldier who had lifted Miryam before crouched again. "Step," he said. He did not grab. He set both hands so she could choose to take them. Miryam did not give him her hands. She stepped herself. He guided her feet so they would not catch the lower rib. She ducked through the flap and went inside. The flap dropped. The latch clicked. A rope passed once through the latch block and tied off to the corner post so the door could not bounce open if the cart shook.


"Tie high ropes," the vice general said. "I do not want a swing to slap the bars."


They threw two lines up and over the dome and anchored them to long stakes in the sand. The ropes hummed and went still. One ant man brushed sand from the cage floor with his palm. He kept his eyes down and backed out at once.


The vice general squatted beside the cage and set his elbows on his knees. He did not reach through the bars. He did not touch her. He only leaned a little and looked in.


"Hello," he said. "You are a surprise."


Miryam sat cross-legged and drew her friend to her side. She kept her face calm the way Kai had taught her.


"Water," the vice general said.


A soldier brought a small clay cup. The officer tapped the rim, took a sip himself, and passed the cup to the bars. Miryam watched his eyes, not his hand.


"Good," he said lightly, as if she had done what he wanted anyway. "Shade the back." He flicked his fingers, and a man shifted the canvas so the light fell soft.


"Lift," the vice general said. "Sling under. No jolt."


They slid the sling under the cage and set it on a low cart with a smooth bed. Two men took the front poles. Two took the rear. They lifted together. The ropes to the stakes took the first sway and kept it gentle. The cage settled clean on the cart.


"Dome with me," the vice general said. Four men picked up the dome corners and walked it in step so the shadow did not roll off the cage.


They moved the cart twenty paces to a level patch near a cooking line that had not been lit yet. They set the wheels in shallow holes so the cart would not creep when the ground cooled. The dome legs went down at the corners. Pegs bit the sand. Knots held.


"Ropes again," he said, and two lines crossed over the top of the dome and tied to poles on the far side of the cart so a wind could not lift the shade.


He checked each corner with a hand. He pushed at one joint until it creaked and then backed the knot a finger’s width and tied it again so it would not crack later.


"Jar and basin," he said.


A man set a jar of water near the wheel and a small basin on a cloth. Another set a second piece of bread wrapped in leaf on the corner of the mat within reach. The vice general nodded once.


"Done," he said. "Keep watch on the cart at all times. Change shifts at the half hour. No idle eyes. If the wind lifts, brace. If she coughs, bring water. If she speaks, you bring me first and then answer."