Novels2Search
Cultivating Plants
Book 4: 6. Nomads

Book 4: 6. Nomads

Aloe instantly threw herself to the ground and forwent speed to switch for acuity. The people she had seen were far away and facing away from her, but she couldn’t take enough precautions.

In a few seconds, her senses became enhanced, and her average sight became that of an eagle.

Even without her augmented sight, it was easy to detect the moving dots in the horizon. This part of the Qiraji was rather dull and inactive – whether from animal or human life – so any movement was easy to detect.

They are many. Aloe pondered as she barely peered over the dune where she was laying on. Ah, hot. It wasn’t only her sense of sight that had been enhanced, but every single sense of hers. Which included touch.

The sun-warmed sand was already scorching as it was, but having sice as sensitive skin only made it worse. Aloe shyly led her hands inside her desert garb to avoid direct contact with the sand, but she didn’t remove her eyes from the moving dots.

Yes, they are too many. She confirmed. Ugh, they have disappeared behind a dune. Should I follow them? It was a dangerous proposition, but at the same time, they were heading in the same direction as her.

Aloe clicked her tongue and switched to subterfuge. It was a needless risk following anyone, but she still didn’t know who they were, so leaving them as they were could be more dangerous than trailing them.

The stealth stance was one that, ironically enough, the fugitive didn’t have much experience with. She kept herself under the dunes until the flow of vitality inside her changed from the sleekness of acuity to the sluggishness of subterfuge.

The main reason why she didn’t have much practice with this internal infusion was because she didn’t have had a reason to use it before. Toughness, recovery, and acuity were here most used; but besides those three, the other six stances hadn’t been needed until now.

Lucky me that I’ve learned all nine at least. Considering she was constantly using haste, and if it weren’t for potency she wouldn’t have managed to escape the greenhouse, having a lot of option under her belt was essential. Versatility is sultan.

Normally she felt heavy when treading on sand, even if she was practically featherweight. But with subterfuge, her steps were decisive yet light. When she stepped forward, no grain of sand was displaced.

Good. Maybe it was a bit overkill, but with her crouched figure and lack of noise, she doubted the moving figures would detect her.

Once she reached a sizeable dune, Aloe became prone and switched back to acuity to decipher what and who she was watching.

When she noticed them before she was only able to see a handful people, but now from her advantage point, she could see a long line of people alongside many beasts of burden, whether they were camels, dromedaries, goats, sheep – though one could discuss if such could be considered beasts of burden – and the occasional dweller.

Nomads. They are nomads. Aloe sighed out of relief and turned her body to lay her back on the sand. Her body visually relaxed after the realization. That’s good, it means that even if I was a publicly wanted person, they won’t know. Nomads didn’t tend to interact much with politics, only vaguely interacting with the populace by trading to sustain themselves better.

Now, what should I do? The murderer peered at the clear blue sky with a soothed heart. I still have water and food, even if it’s not much. Should I risk it and trade with them? Whilst they may not know of her, she couldn’t erase the fact that she traded with them, meaning that there was the off-chance that a soldier in the next city became aware of her presence by word of mouth.

Dangerous, dangerous… She bit her thumb in ponderation. Her main protection was the fact that no one knew where she was directing towards. They must be going to either a body of water or a settlement to rest, so I could trail them too… That presented the problem of reducing her speed, though. The sooner she got out of Ydaz, the better.

I could travel with them too, but that’s a higher degree of detection if I enter a city… Ugh. Choices, choices. After being deprived of the ability to make choices most of her life, Aloe found herself incapable of settling in a decision.

Then her stomach grumbled.

Mmm… She irritably hummed. It’s dangerous, but I could try to trade with them. I’m just a random traveler in search of directions and possibly food… She orchestrated a background in her mind.

Aloe shot up from her position and stood up. Damn it all, the heavens hate those who don’t take their chances. She was confident in her ability to run away, so she rushed for the traveling caravan of nomads.

To arise as little suspicion as possible, she donned subterfuge and skied down the dune where she was standing until she reached the path the nomads they had treaded. A random woman coming from the dunes might be a bit too suspicious, but a random traveler trailing behind a big convoy in a road was to be expected.

Without further ado, Aloe switched her subterfuge off and opted for acuity as she closed on the slow-moving caravan. All things being said, there wasn’t much noise around for being tens of people moving around. Some talked, of course, but prying with acuity was hard and she couldn’t distinguish more than simple hush-hush.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

She walked behind them without being too intrusive but also not hiding her presence, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later that a man turned his neck and spotted her. The nomad waved at her and Aloe waved back, slightly hiding her face behind the neckerchief of her garb. The man apologized to the woman he was talking to and rushed for Aloe, all whilst flaunting a friendly visage.

This interaction happened over a distance of more than fifty meters, but considering they were on a straight line of nothingness, it wasn’t hard to communicate with gestures.

Especially her with her enhanced sight.

“Jiselai!” The man saluted once he arrived to her.

Aloe panicked for a second, recognizing the nomadic welcome expression. She squeezed her brain for the typical response of the salutation as that would lend her a more amicable treatment.

“Seladonai.” She responded with a degree of uncertainty.

“Ah, ‘tis weird findin’ fellas who know our greetings.” The nomad was more than delighted to find a wanderer who knew about them.

“I’ve traveled my fair share to pick up a thing or to.” Aloe lied as she breathed.

“Good, good.” The man nodded. “Ibrahim.” He offered his hand.

“Selaya.” The fugitive responded with a faux name, one more typical of southern Ydaz.

“A pleasure. But let us not stay here, anyone who knows how to properly greet someone is welcome in our caravan.”

“I mean not to impose.”

“’Tis not a problem, woman.” Ibrahim responded with joviality. “You must have traveled far and in danger if you have been crossing these sands alone, let us give you a modicum of safety.”

“I could do with some hospitality…” Aloe feigned indecisiveness, but finally coming around to Ibrahim’s offer.

Ibrahim walked ‘Selaya’ to the moving village that was the nomad’s caravan. They weren’t exactly rich, but with that number of animals with them, more than one bandit would be tempted to assault them. That was why everyone wielded a weapon. Some were small and innocuous like knives or slings, but others had swords and spears. Preferably spears, as they could be used as walking sticks.

“So, Selaya,” Ibrahim asked, “what brings you across the Qiraji?”

“When isn’t someone going through the Qiraji?” Aloe joked.

“True, true. ‘Tis expanse knows no limits.” The nomad laughed. “But I still would like to know an answer.”

The structure of the sentence was a bit off, but nomads spoke in very old Ydazi, a dialect so pure and unfazed by time that it was almost zealous with its rigidity. That forced Aloe to ponder each and every word slowly as some words could change drastically in meaning with time, let alone idioms.

“I come from Sudea, on the Emirate of Rashit, do you know where it is?” Aloe used her poor knowledge of geography to the best of her extent.

Sudea was south and in said emirate, yes, but it was closer to the Emirate of Asina than anything, so the little town stuck to a smaller section of her mind.

“That much I can say, yes.” Ibrahim nodded and crossed his arms. “Passed there a few winters ago, maybe three.”

“I’m currently on a bit of journey to see my sister. My mother died, and whilst I’m faring fairly poorly, I’d like to bring the rightful inheritance to my older sister.” Aloe patted at her purse without much fear. Everyone knew nomads didn’t steal.

That was the whole façade Aloe had elaborated. Selaya of Sudea, single and an orphan traveler in search of her older sister who she wanted to make it right and give her an inheritance she didn’t deserve. The story was so random yet uncannily plausible that no one would give it much of a second thought.

“’Tis much commendable!” Ibrahim patted her in the back. The palms sent jolts of wakefulness through Aloe’s body as her acuity-boosted skin was more sensitive that she would have liked. “Most people would have let their families without seeing a copper of their money.”

“Yes, hahaha.” She laughed whilst caressing her back and holding a groan of pain. She switched to recovery to heal herself a bit, even if minutes of enhanced regeneration were bound to do little to nothing at all.

“Ma’, I bring a girl!” The nomad ignored her pain and referred to an old woman before them. She carried a long stick that she used to lead two sheep.

“Oh?” Ibrahim’s mother turned to face them. “A traveler, I presume?” Aloe nodded. “If my son brought you here with us, I presume is because you want to travel in our company?”

“Not quite.” Aloe denied. It was a tempting proposition, but it made her too visible. And slow. “I would like to trade for some water and food, if possible, before continuing my way.”

“Oh? You are going to travel alone?” The old woman in traditional clothing led her hand to her mouth. “The desert is quite dangerous, young girl.”

“I am aware of that, but I can affirm you that I’m prepared.” That was a… half-ish truth. “I’m somewhat pressed for time, and whilst your convoy will bring me security, it will also slow me down.”

“’Tis the right of the youngsters to walk to their death.” The old nomad said crankily. “I will not stop you, but you are welcome to stay with us nonetheless.”

“Fret not, avoiding death is a thing I do every breathing moment.”

“Everyone does, girl.” The old woman straightened her back. “Everyone fights death with each following breath, some have it easier than others, but we all fight. And I have been fighting that war longer that you, do not think that you are alone in such fight.”

Aloe smiled at the nomad. Her words had been misinterpreted, but that was for the better. Everyone fought death and chose to stay alive; it was only the proximity of such death that distanced her from other people.

It would be so easy to not take the next breath, after all.

“Philosophy aside, I would very much enjoy making my purse lighter and my backpack heavier.” Aloe added.

“Hmm, we do not require much of coin, as useful as it may be…” The woman said. “Do you have anything to trade with? An exchange we would enjoy more.”

The murderer’s visage turned sour. She didn’t have anything to trade with that wasn’t silver or forbidden knowledge.

“I do have black seeds…” Aloe revealed. “But they are few and I’d prefer to not depart from them.”

“I see.” Ironically enough, the woman said it with her eyes closed. “Ibrahim, do we have leftover milk?”

“Quite, ma’.” The man responded.

“How ‘bout a silver for two canteens of milk?” The woman offered.

“A silver for two canteens?” With silver she guessed that the woman was talking about a drupnari, Aloe was outraged even if she carried more than a thousand times that. “Isn’t that a bit too much?”

“We could need it ourselves, girl.” The old nomad explained. “In a city it may be a trade good, but here’s a survival good.”

“I see…” There was no fighting that logic. “I can agree to that price, but what about the food?” What worried more was the water, but if she could also get some rations, better yet.

“That I cannot offer.” She revealed. “Maybe Ibrahim can guide you to others who are more bountiful.”

“Thanks for the offer.” Aloe took a silver of her purse. “I will be retrieving those canteens later if it’s not much trouble.”

“None at all.” The old woman snatched the drupnari faster than Aloe could see. “May the Traveler guide you.”

The nomad slightly bowed, and Aloe replied in kind. She had heard about the patron divinity – if that was even the right term – of the nomads before, so she didn’t give it much thought. Then she followed Ibrahim who escorted her and introduced her to the rest of the members of the community of nomads.