Death is but a path that we must all walk to its inevitable conclusion.
- The Human Question by Gideon de Salavia 378 AC.
At a distance, where the human eye could still discern shape, walls of yellow sandstone rose against a backdrop of an iron gray sea. Before me was my journey’s goal, the fabled city of Al-Lazar and the symbol of my freedom. A symbol of a new life.
The horsemen from yesterday were soldiers of the city of the Dust, sent to escort and guide us there. According to them, the frequency of Mer sightings in recent days had increased, a prelude to a new period of conflict.
Our new escorts, for the most part, all bore uniform equipment. Each of them had a lance or lengthy spear, a bundle of jarids, and a long curved blade that was typical of cavalry. Their armor was notable. The fronts and backs of the soldiers were guarded by large, solid discs, connected by chain links of iron or steel. Around their open-faced helms, they wore keffiyehs checkered in black and white. They all had a disciplined and professional air about them. Yet, a closer inspection revealed something amiss, their gazes were oddly unfocused, eyes slightly glazed, betraying a subtle disconnect from their surroundings.
Laes offered them the hospitality of the camp, which they surprisingly rejected, instead preferring to set themselves a hundred yards away from us. It seemed that they were serious about their business.
We would arrive in the city tomorrow, or the day after, by my own rough guess. Preparing my things as best as I could, I was surprised when a young boy, obsequious in his manner, gave me a summons to Laes’ wagon. Interrupted, I could not help a small spark of annoyance light up in my gut, a spark I soon smothered with a smile. I informed the boy that I would be in the caravan master’s company shortly.
Something told me, a gut instinct perhaps, that I should not go to the caravan master alone. I looked over the current occupants of the wagon, looking for the perfect escort. Kidu was whittling away at a small block of wood, unlocking the secret shape it had hidden within. I did not take him for the artistic type, but then again everyone needs a hobby to while away the time. Kidu would be too imposing, more likely to threaten violence than settle for negotiation. Searching inside of myself, I did not have the reserves of patience to restrain him. In truth, I needed someone to act as a possible restraint on my own actions, a calm head, as you will.
As for Elwin, he was busy mixing and grinding away to make a paste, with the help of Larynda. What he was making eluded me, and several attempts at Identify just gave me the name of the various ingredients in the mixture. If I wanted to know the name of whatever it was he was making, I would have to ask him or wait for him to finish. I decided to wait. He was busy, and I doubted that Laes, or anyone in the caravan really, held him in high regard. His words would be as wind.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Larynda of course, charming as she could be at times, was, of course, off the table. That left Cordelia, the Temple Knight who was currently saying evening prayers to a faraway Goddess. Cordelia would be perfect. Her piety and holiness held great sway here among the believers, notwithstanding her own social rank and station. She would also act as a ward against my baser impulses, but at the same time, strong enough to back me in the worst of possible situations.
I found her outside of her wagon, on her knees, her eyes shut in devotion. She was imploring her Goddess for guidance, a deep need etched in every word. It was a prayer, perhaps, or maybe a hymn, flowing from her in a melodic rhythm, her lilting voice weaving a tapestry of sound that was hauntingly beautiful. Once she finished, she brushed the grass off her clothes, a few stubborn blades remaining, despite her efforts.
Did she know that by following me, her Goddess would most likely abandon her, stripping her of her blessings?
She greeted me with her beatific smile, an expression that was so serene that it gave a measure of solace to my heart. Sure in my choice, I informed her that Laes requested my company and that I wished for her to join me. Unarmored, she accepted with a simple nod of her head, slinging on her magic longsword. Unlike Kidu, her strength was understated. I finally understood why people hired female bodyguards.
Together we made our way through the camp to Laes’ wagon, finding Laes at his bolted-down desk and a grim-faced Khalam hovering beside him. Once again, my eyes were drawn to the pair of delicate swords hanging over some large horns, before I focused on the pair before me.
“Greetings Master Gilgamesh, I hope I did not unduly disturb you,” started the caravan master in a neutral voice. “We will arrive at our destination soon, my obligation to Master Alchemist Hamsa fulfilled. Now there are two matters we must see to,” he continued, running a hand through a length of knotted cord, the knots a tally and ledger.
“First, the last of your pay. I have included a little bonus for services rendered. It is, of course, much appreciated. Were it not for your company, our fates might have been different,” said the horse-faced man, his ugly face looking to Khalam for comment as he placed a small cloth purse on his desk.
Khalam's face was all hard lines and tension, but still, he gave a grudging nod. Without me, Laes and his people would have been doomed. However, an argument could be made that it was because of me and my little package that the Ravens had been in danger in the first place, but I digress. Internally quibbling over minutiae never amounted to anything.
I reached over to take my well-deserved pay, placing it into my tough satchel made of boiled leather plates. Reading the room, I decided it would be rude if I did not count out the money.
“Khalam has brought to my attention another matter that needs to be settled before you leave us,” added Laes, lines of worry adding their presence to his already uncomely appearance. “The matter of your… relationship with one of our recently widowed, Catalina Kalkassin.”