The jagged mesas of the Kahn desert crawled past endlessly as the caravan rolled along the highway. Small mesquite trees with pale green leaves dotted the landscape, adding welcome contrast to a portrait that was overwhelmingly brown and tan. Hardy brittlebrush and dry sage grew atop the mesas, and within the small valleys and crags which divided them. The packed dirt of the highway cut through it all, bisecting the desert in a long curving line that twisted around the mesas towards the distant horizon.
Being back in the wilderness felt surreal. For the last two months or so, the wild desert landscape had been the only thing Gideon had seen with every waking moment. But so much had happened in Kenan within the space of a single day that the journey from Forelia now seemed like an almost dreamlike memory. He watched the landscape pass by with a feeling of malaise, caused by a combination of his injury, the heat, and the lack of a good night's sleep.
Eventually, Gideon lost the struggle against weariness. He grabbed his bedroll to use for a pillow and curled up with it on the wagon’s bench for a nap, carefully seeking out the most comfortable position for his stitches. His eyes closed on the sight of Surelin quietly watching the landscape, her hands resting in her lap.
He dreamed of walking across the desert at night, towards a distant unknown destination. A shrouded woman with pale skin and flowing blond hair accompanied him. She talked about things that felt very important, but her words would not stick in his memory. They flowed out of his ears like water from Kaan’s mouth, and when Gideon looked down at himself his body was made of stone.
Urgent shaking wrenched him from deep sleep. Gideon opened his eyes drowsily and looked up to find the young Kenanite he’d manhandled standing over him.
The Kenanite seemed skittish as he withdrew his hand from Gideon’s shoulder. His baby face showed hints of nervousness as Gideon stared at him with bleary eyes.
“Ah…Kara sent me. Can we have your whiskey?”
Gideon looked around and realized the wagon had halted. Surelin was nowhere to be seen.
He curled forward slightly to take a look outside. Dusk had come: the horizon was hued orange and red, and the smattering of clouds in the sky glowed purple.
His gaze returned to the Kenanite. “Why do you need my whiskey…?”
“Uh…we’re celebrating.”
Gideon hauled himself up into a sitting position and waved him off. “I’ll bring it out, just…give me a second.”
The Kenanite’s relief at being dismissed was palpable, and he hastily hopped off the wagon. Gideon pulled his ruck towards himself and dug through it, pulling out a new shirt along with the bottle of whiskey. After putting the shirt on, he held up the bottle and frowned at it.
Gee, I wonder how they found out about this.
He quickly tied his boots on and hopped off the wagon, bottle in hand. The caravan had stopped in the shadow of a large mesa. Roughly a hundred feet to the south, the highway curved around another mesa, and to the north the highway entered an expanse of open sand. The oxen had been freed from their yokes and were bedded down across the road from the caravan. A small bonfire had been set up on the caravan’s right, near the mesa’s slope, and all twenty or so caravanners were sitting around it. Gideon spotted Surelin sitting beside Kara in front of the bonfire.
A loud cheer went up at his approach, followed by delighted laughter and applause. He muttered to himself as he walked over and sat down next to Surelin.
Kara grinned at him. “Good morning, sleepy! How was your all day nap?”
Gideon frowned at her, then turned his head to frown at Surelin. “You told them about my whiskey.”
She scratched the side of her face abashedly. Kara raised her voice to get everyone’s attention. “Gideon wants to share his whiskey with us. Isn’t that right, big guy?”
He rolled his eyes and sighed as everyone looked over at him again. “I guess.”
Kara reached her hand out for the bottle, and Gideon passed it to her. The young Kenanite appeared from nowhere with an armful of shot glasses and began handing them out.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, pour one for yourself and hold it,” Kara said as she poured herself a shot. “We’re gonna do a toast.”
She moved to pour a shot out for Surelin, but she shook her head.
“I can’t…” Surelin said quietly.
Kara nodded, and after passing the bottle off to the closest caravanner she turned to beckon the young Kenanite. “Wallace, bring us a water flask.”
Wallace did as he was bid. Kara poured Surelin some water, and the caravanners chatted gaily to one another as the bottle got passed around.
Surelin turned to Kara. “So did you ever see King Carom’s Daughters?”
“Have I?” Kara laughed. “I doubt there’s a single Losoan who hasn’t.”
“I haven’t,” Gideon said dryly.
They ignored him. “I saw Madame Falton herself play Rhoa in Loso’s open-air forum,” Kara continued.
Surelin gave her an excited smile. “Oh, lucky! I grew up wishing her troupe would come perform in Forelia City. I was heartbroken by the news of her death.”
“Yeah...she was sensational! A real actor’s actress. I attended almost every performance just for her. As a matter of fact, I went so many times that the admission price nearly ruined me.”
Surelin laughed. “Really?”
“Oh, sure. Eventually I just stopped paying and found ways to sneak in.”
Gideon found himself zoning out as the women continued bonding over theater. Before long the bottle made its way back to him.
A choked gasp ripped from him when he saw the amount of whiskey left. Barely enough for one shot remained. He cradled the bottle in his arms and cried out mournfully.
“My whiskey! No…!”
Kara and Surelin rolled their eyes at him simultaneously. “Alright, raise your glasses, everyone!” Kara called out.
They did.
“To your health, and your profits. May they both endure these next four months!”
She drank, and so did everyone else. Gideon sipped straight from the bottle, moping.
Zane’s bobbing head and grin caught Gideon’s eye. He turned to Kara. “Why the fuck does that guy go around smiling all the time?”
Kara looked over at Zane, smirking. “Who, Smiley? Tell him why you’re always smiling, Smiley.”
A trace of nervousness entered Zane's grin as everyone turned to look at him. “Uh…I dunno, I just smile a lot. I don’t mean anything by it.”
The caravanners closest to Zane grabbed him playfully and tried to push the corners of his mouth down. People began to hoot and holler as he struggled against them, and Gideon saw an angry frown flash across his face.
“Oh, fuck off!” he shouted as he pushed back against his assailants. They released him, laughing.
“He rubs people the wrong way, but he’s a decent enough trail doc,” Kara said.
Surelin cocked her head. “Is there really nothing between here and Loso? No cities, towns…?”
“Yep. Hopefully we have a dry autumn. Some of the older caravanners tell horror stories about entering the steppe and getting stuck in the mud for months.” She looked at Gideon. “Hey, big guy. What do you say about replacing one of my people on sentry duty tonight?”
He furrowed his brows at her and frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you slept all day,” she fired back. “And because you’re a warrior. Obviously. You’d be more useful standing watch than sitting aimlessly in a wagon.”
Surelin watched Gideon carefully for his reply. He glanced at her before letting out an exasperated sigh and a nod.
“Good! You can take the midnight shift with Wallace.”
Wallace had taken a seat across the bonfire from Kara. He looked over at the mention of his name.
“You’re on sentry duty tonight with our new friend,” Kara told him.
His face fell with extreme disappointment. “...Oh. Okay.”
----------------------------------------
Deep darkness blanketed the desert as Gideon walked up the slope towards the top of the mesa, lantern in hand. The glittering stars overhead shone beautifully in the dry desert air, but they offered little in the way of illumination. It was the night of the new moon, leaving the stars as the only source of natural light. Crickets chirped all around the caravan, falling silent only when the glow of Gideon’s lantern came too close.
When he reached the top, the two caravanners on sentry duty greeted him warmly and handed over the alarm bell before setting off down the slope. They’d been standing in the open with their lanterns on, outlining themselves against the starry sky and making their presence painfully obvious. Gideon did some quick searching for an area on the mesa where they could stand watch without exposing themselves, and soon found a suitable rocky alcove where they’d be much harder to spot. He blew his lantern out and sat down, scanning the darkness around the caravan.
Wallace walked up the slope towards Gideon a few minutes later, and greeted him awkwardly.
“Hello...uh…I’m gonna stand watch over there.”
He walked a few paces away and sat down. Gideon shrugged. “Turn your lantern off.”
Wallace blew out his lantern, and darkness consumed them. Gideon could just barely make out the young Kenanite’s seated figure a few feet away. He looked around at the landscape, illuminated only by starlight, and settled in for a long shift.
Once they’d been quiet for a while, the crickets nearby regained their confidence and began to chirp again. Small bats darted overhead, hunting for moths and other flying insects against the backdrop of the stars. Soon a chilly breeze began to blow, and Gideon crossed his arms across his chest, regretting that he hadn’t brought a blanket up with him.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The wind made it nearly impossible to spot any unnatural movement on the dark landscape. He scanned it anyway, trying to engage his mind by memorizing the shapes of the mesas to the south.
Hours passed without the slightest change. Gideon’s eyes began to droop when an obnoxiously loud snore brought him back to alertness. He picked up a small rock and tossed it at Wallace’s back, who woke up with a start.
When Gideon looked back to the south, a light had appeared on the distant highway. Alarmed, he squinted at it. Several more lights appeared all around it.
“Wallace, look over here.”
He heard Wallace turn around. “Oh…”
“Could that be another caravan?” Gideon asked.
“Uh, I don’t think so, but…”
The lights disappeared behind a mesa. When they reappeared again they were significantly closer, perhaps only two or three highway bends away.
Gideon shook his head warily. “I have an extremely bad feeling about those lights.”
“S-should we wake everyone up?”
He pushed the alarm bell into Wallace’s hands and stood up. “Yeah. Ring that thing as hard as you can. I’m going down there to cut them off.”
Gideon ran down the slope as Wallace began to ring the bell. There was no immediate reaction from the caravan, and Gideon shouted in its direction as he ran.
“Wake up! People are coming!”
Lanterns began to turn on inside the wagons. He heard raised voices as he ran past the caravan onto the highway, following it south. When Gideon reached the bend he stopped and looked around, trying to find a good spot to observe the highway beyond. He spotted a slope that buttressed the mesa which would serve his purposes and ran up it, hoping the elevation wouldn’t reveal him from the highway.
Past the bend, the highway traveled south for another four hundred feet or so before it curved to the east, out of sight around another mesa. Gideon perched behind a sagebrush and watched the distant bend like a hawk. Anxious minutes passed, and he began to let himself hope that whoever held the lights had decided to turn around. Then light appeared around the bend, illuminating the scattered shrubs which straddled the highway.
Gideon hunched forward as the light around the bend became brighter. A dozen half-naked pale skinned men jogged around it, each holding a torch above their heads. In their other hands they held weapons: iron clubs, mostly, but he saw a few of them wielding broadswords.
His stomach tied itself into a knot as he watched them advance. Lake Men!
They kept coming around the bend, dozens of them. He couldn’t get an accurate count, but he guessed the amount at about forty. One of the Lake Men in the lead —a bare chested man with long and unkempt gray hair— kept looking down at the highway as he jogged, presumably at the tracks the caravan had left upon it.
With about three hundred feet of highway remaining before the Lake Men reached his position, Gideon leapt out of concealment and sprinted back towards the caravan. The caravanners had taken out lanterns and used them to light up the surrounding area, casting flickering shadows on the mesa’s slope. They had weapons on their belts as they milled around at the end of the caravan, and they all nearly jumped out of their skin when Gideon came pounding out of the darkness.
Kara seemed alarmed but collected as she trotted up to meet him. “What is it?”
“Lake Men,” Gideon hissed. “About forty of them.”
The other caravanners heard him, and panic ensued.
“Lakies!”
“Oh, Kali!”
“Why now?!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Kara roared. “Wallace, round up the oxen and drive them north, quickly! Take Lucian, Mogy, and Weyer with you.”
“Why’re you sending people away when Lakies are about to come fuck us?” someone shouted.
“Who the fuck said that? Tanner? You come stand by me, Tanner, I’m gonna make sure your bitch ass doesn’t run. Everyone else draw your swords and line up!”
The caravanners moved to obey. Gideon marched over to the last wagon and pulled his claymore out. Surelin stood by the wagon, anxiously holding onto the gate.
“What should I do?”
He shook his head worriedly as he unstrapped his sheath and tossed it up into the wagon. “Find somewhere to hide. I’ll do my best to look out for you.”
Surelin looked around apprehensively and ran off towards the front of the caravan. Gideon walked back to where the caravanners had formed their battle line and joined it next to Kara. They stretched across the highway, with two or three feet of space separating them.
Light from the Lake Men’s torches glowed on the southern mesa’s slopes. “They aren’t well armed,” Gideon said. “We can win if your people hold on.”
“You hear that? The merc thinks we’re gonna win!” Kara called out. The caravanners sounded encouraged as they let out a cheer.
She glanced at him. “I really hope you’re as good as you seem.”
The Lake Men entered sight as they jogged around the bend. One of the female caravanners screamed in their direction.
“Fuck off!!!”
It started a cascade of screaming insults from the rest of the caravanners. Unperturbed, the Lake Men jogged towards the caravan and began to spread out across the highway, forming a loose line to match their opponents. The Lake Men screamed back in their indecipherable language. The words sounded melodious to Gideon, almost as if they were singing instead of barking insults and threats.
With about twenty feet remaining they slowed to a walk, moving hesitantly towards the caravanners' battle line. Under the torchlight Gideon could see they were emaciated: their skins looked disturbingly tight across their bones and muscles. They clearly hadn’t eaten in weeks.
The screaming and shouting from both sides reached a fevered pitch as the Lake Men inched forward into weapons range. The caravanners held their ground while Kara called out above the cacophony to steady them.
The gray-haired Lakie Gideon had spotted earlier took a jab at someone off to Gideon’s left. In response, Gideon leapt towards him and thrusted with his claymore, stabbing him between the ribs. The Lake Men nearby pulled the wounded man away, and a Lakie with long black hair jabbed at Gideon for good measure. Kara immediately stepped in to deflect it, and with that the battle began.
An explosion of clashing metal rent the air as the two lines collided. Roaring, Gideon charged the man who’d jabbed at him, swinging from the right. The Lakie blocked the attack with his broadsword, and Gideon began to rain blows upon him.
Most of the Lake Men decided not to help their comrades. They flowed around and past the fighters, sprinting towards the wagons. With another roar, Gideon leveled a powerful swing at the Lakie before him, and knocked the sword out of his grasp. The man had a wild look in his eyes as he turned to run away, back down the highway.
Panting heavily, Gideon looked around. The caravanners seemed to be winning against the Lake Men who’d decided to stand and fight. The highway was already coated in blood and crawling wounded: mostly Lake Men, but a handful of the caravanners had also been downed. The Lake Men who’d bypassed the fight had jumped into the wagons, ransacking them.
Surelin!
Gideon sprinted towards the front of the caravan, past the wagons full of Lake Men. When he reached the lead wagon, he skidded to a halt.
The rear gate had been opened, and two Lake Men wielding clubs stood before it. Surelin was crouched inside, swinging her knife frantically at the Lake Men to ward them off. One of the Lake Men grabbed her by the wrist after she made a wide swing, and the other grabbed her by the ankle. They pulled her out of the wagon as she struggled against them, screaming, and dumped her onto the ground.
Gideon launched himself at the closest one, thrusting his claymore into the man’s back. The blade pierced his torso and exited just above his solar plexus. Gideon’s momentum carried him into a collision with his target, and they fell to the ground in a heap right next to Surelin.
The Lakie had fallen on top of the claymore, pressing his weight against it. Panicking, Gideon fruitlessly tried to yank the claymore free as the second Lakie loomed overhead. At the last second Gideon released the claymore’s hilt and crossed his arms over his head defensively as the Lakie prepared to swing down.
Kara suddenly hurtled into the Lakie with a spirited shout. Gideon looked on, stunned, as they hit the ground together. She immediately tried to wrest the club out of the Lakie’s right hand, and they began to struggle for it.
Two more caravanners ran up and immediately stabbed the Lakie in the back as Kara wrestled with him. She rolled away and leapt to her feet, and the Lakie let out a blood curdling scream as they stabbed him again and again. The scream turned into a wet gurgle after one of the blades ripped open his throat.
Gideon pushed himself to his feet, and pulled Surelin to hers right after. Once she was standing again, she ripped her hand away from Gideon’s and turned back to the wagon, gripping the gate tightly as she let out quick, shaky breaths.
The surviving Lake Men had been broken. They scattered in all directions, fleeing for their lives away from the caravan. The caravanners gathered around the wagons to smoke out the remaining Lake Men who’d been cornered inside. Spine-chilling threats and curses filled the air as the caravanners pulled the Lake Men out one by one and eagerly slew them.
Bloodied bodies littered the ground all around the caravan. The battle had lasted for less than five minutes.
----------------------------------------
Kara had been content to let Gideon stay with the caravan while the majority of the caravanners trekked off to the north. Wallace’s group had lost control of the oxen, and the animals had stampeded, spreading themselves out across the sand dunes. They had to be rounded up, otherwise the caravan wouldn’t be going anywhere.
He’d offered to come along, but Kara declined. “You wouldn't be of much use to us out there,” she’d said.
Two of the caravanners had stayed behind with him to begin the cleanup process. They’d neatly arranged the bodies of Zane and the two others who’d died at the foot of the mesa, to be given a funeral once everyone else had returned with the oxen. On the other side of the road, the pair of caravanners were doing the slow work of piling up the emaciated bodies of the Lake Men, for mass burning.
Gideon stood before the pile of dead Lake Men, looking down at the frozen faces in the light of his lantern. Young and old alike were piled on top of each other like cordwood.
Adding bodies to this pile is the only thing I know how to do. The only thing I’m good at.
He turned away from the pile, and walked slowly up the slope towards the top of the mesa. Surelin had retreated up there soon after it became clear that Kara had no intention of availing her for help.
She’d discovered the spot Gideon had been standing watch at before the battle, and was sitting there with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her arms were crossed over her knees, with her head resting against her forearms.
Gideon sat down next to her quietly, and studied her face. It was wet with tears.
“Hey. You okay?”
Surelin’s hands tightened into fists, and a choked sob escaped from her. “Yes. I’m okay. But only because you and Kara and everyone else was there to protect me.”
A large tear leapt from her eye and quickly slid down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“When someone isn’t there to help me, I’m defenseless. When someone is there, I’m powerless to help them in return. Even when I want to, I can’t. Because I’m useless. The only reason I’m even here at all is because you pitied me.”
“That’s not true,” Gideon said quickly.
“Yes it is! Don’t lie to me.”
He shook his head with a frown.
“You called me brave, but do you want to know how I felt with the Kenanites? Petrified, the entire time. I couldn’t think about anything but myself. How to keep breathing. Every second of every day I was terrified at the thought of what they might do to me.” She let out some nervous laughter. “And you think that’s brave? I don’t think so.”
“Sometimes just to keep breathing is brave.”
She scoffed angrily. “That’s so easy for you to say. You’re a powerful man. If anyone ever did something untoward to you, you’d just…stab their eyes out, or…or bite out their throat, or something. You have absolutely no idea what this is like.”
Gideon looked down by his feet. I have some idea.
Surelin lifted her head with a tired sigh. She looked down at the caravan, towards the pile of corpses. The caravanners had decided to take a break, and were standing together by the rear wagon.
He looked at her as she watched them, thinking. If I teach Surelin what I know, would she eventually become a killer, too? Would I be responsible for anyone she killed? Would I be responsible if she lost a fight and died?
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
“I’m willing to teach you what I know,” Gideon said. “If you’re willing to learn.”
After a pause, Surelin turned to look at him. Her eyes darted around his face, as if she questioned his sincerity.
Gideon pushed himself to his feet, and walked down the slope towards the caravan. Surelin quickly got up to follow him.
He stopped in front of the pile and scanned the corpses. She watched him as he searched. When he found what he was looking for, he began the awkward process of removing it from the corpse. Eventually he succeeded, and turned to face Surelin with a sheathed broadsword in his hands.
“This is going to be hard on you,” he said. “Mentally and physically hard. I’m not gonna tolerate you giving up, either. It’s all the way, or none of the way.”
She stared at him with wide eyes as he held the sheath out towards her. Her hand lifted to grab it, then halted as Gideon spoke again.
“This won’t solve all your problems. If just knowing how to fight could do that, I wouldn’t be here. Understand?”
She nodded firmly and grasped the sheath. “I understand.”
He stared down at her hand on it. She tried to pull it towards her, but he wouldn’t release it.
“Let go!” she said anxiously.
This kind of life only ends in one way.
He didn’t have the heart to say it. Surelin had a new fire in her eyes as Gideon released the sheath. She pulled the blade out and stared at it, marveling.
“Alright, hurry up and tie that thing around your waist. Your training begins right now,” he said. “From now on, that sword is never more than a foot away from you. You're gonna wear it at all times, no matter what, including when you sleep. Now, you and I are going to help them clean this place up. See that corpse? You grab his feet, I’ll grab him up here.”
She obeyed, and they began the tough, sweaty work of moving corpses as dawn’s first light filled the eastern sky.