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The attack came swift as a hawk. Tuareg spears pierced the rising sun, arrows blackened the sky. Screams rose among the slavers as Anna rode forward, her veil whipping in the wind, the freed captives watching her with stunned awe.
> She thought: The chains they placed on me forged my sword.
Amastan raised his hand. The desert fell silent.
“Are you ready, my queen?” he asked, his voice low and sure.
Anna tightened her grip on the camel’s reins. “I am not a queen here,” she said softly. “I am only a woman fighting for others to breathe free.”
His eyes flickered with a smile.
The sun rose crimson above the dunes as Anna adjusted the veil across her brow. She sat astride a white camel, Amastan at her side upon his tall grey mare. Before them stretched a caravan of chained men and women, guarded by Arab slavers with curved swords flashing in dawn light.
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Inspired by @Diane-de-la-Cheneraye