I woke up screaming, the sound echoing off the cave walls as my limbs flailed about, the sleeves of my ragged long coat rustling while my eyes stung, my own hair betraying me as it clung to my still closed eyes. I tore the hair from my face and wrenched my eyes open, the entrance to the cave lit up by sunlight, desert sand blowing in like wisps of dust.

I brushed the long brown strands of hair out of my face, and yawned before stretching. My back and legs both popped in equal measure, the kink in my neck having worsened slightly after my rock pillow had failed to be soft and comfortable. I groped around the insides of my coat, pulling out the familiar bottle of whiskey I'd been refilling with water every time I ran out of alcohol. I grimaced as I drank the strange tasting water, wondering if I'd forgotten to find a place to boil it. I decided it didn't matter. If it killed me it would no longer be my problem.

Getting to my feet I looked around the cave, noticing the corpse of a rather small manticore that was riddled with a great many blood covered holes. I chuckled at how easily I'd forgotten last night's excitements. I checked that my tool for violence was where it should be, patting my chest and feeling the weapon nestled safely under the cloth. Grabbing a rock, I shattered the dead beast's paw, then the spots where claw connected with flesh. They might be worth something, after all.

Leaving the shelter of the cave I was greeted harshly by the sun scorching my skin and momentarily robbing me of my sight. A few moments later and my vision returned, revealing the ridge that I had climbed to, sitting some distance away from the nearest city. It lay several miles from my location, its thick sandstone walls visible for miles around, the faint glimmer of the finely decorated palace nauseating in its excessive vanity.

Climbing down was far easier than climbing up, the rocks blistering hot and refusing to allow me any real traction. My hands burned and tore as I half climbed, half fell down the incline. Before I could reach the bottom one of the less sun-baked stones came loose, leaving me to plummet the rest of the way to the ground, landing hard on my back just before the rock crashed down into the sand beside me, kicking the grainy substance into my eyes and mouth. I had to use more of the water to wash out the taste, my whiskey bottle half drained afterwards.

My boots crunched the sand beneath my feet as I walked, the sun bearing hard down upon my head even after I had pulled up my thin hood, the heat cooking the air around me and within me. My lungs burned with every breath I took, my muscles aching with every step. The dunes I walked on seemed to stretch on forever, the city growing no closer regardless of how far I walked.

When I crested the next dune I saw something I hadn't noticed from atop the ridgeline. There was a small caravan heading for the city, barely guarded and with the perfect spot at the back of the heavily burdened wagon where I could sit and wait out the journey in relative comfort. I broke out into a run that was closer to stumbling, though no less effective for it. The three guards that wandered back and forth weren't going near the back of the wagon, choosing to instead stay to the front and sides of it.

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After five minutes of chasing the wagon I reached the back, grabbed on, and hauled myself up to the small footrest that now served as my chair. I had to hold onto one of the ropes securing the cargo, but it was no bother to me as I drank another quarter of my remaining water, the liquid warming my throat as it went down, leaving me almost more thirsty than I was before drinking it.

When one of the guards finally fell back far enough to see the back of the wagon, we had already almost reached the city. He noticed me and gave a shout, bringing the cart to a halt and nearly causing me to spill the little water I had left. I gave him a lazy wave with the bottle while fishing in a side pocket for some coin. Strangely I only found a total of five coins left from what had originally been a full pouch of eighty three. When had that happened?

I pulled one of the coins from my pocket and held it out toward the guard who now approached me on his camel, an iron sabre held in a gloved hand, his padded iron helmet glimmering in the light. "Stowaway! Thief! You'll be clapped in irons for this!" He must've been talking about the bottle of water I still held in my other hand. The other guards came around the corner, one of them looking me up and down, before turning to the one that was threatening me. "Lay off it, James. We aren't carrying anything that dirty, and he's obviously willing to pay for transport, though he should've just flagged one of us down to tell the master." I realized the one that was threatening me was actually fairly young for a guard, his skin healthy and less sun-kissed than the other two and myself.

"Aye sirs. I'm just lookin' to get to the city over yonder. Happy to pay for a ride on the back of the wagon." I gave them a small smile as I continued to hold out the small metal coin. "What's goin' on back here? What's all the fuss?" A round bellied man stepped around the corner and spotted me, pointing a fat finger at me as his eyes bulged out. "You! How long have you been hitching a free ride on my wagon?!"

I thought for a moment before answering. "A few miles back, toward the ridgeline there is where I slept last night. Came down, walked a bit, saw your caravan. Figured I might as well hop on." I spoke more carefully as I didn't want to have to resort to violence. It always got messier than I liked, and it was way too hot out for it at the moment. The hand still holding out the coin swung around to him. "I'm happy to pay for passage." He looked outraged by my words, still pointing at me as his mouth worked, trying to figure out the right words to say. "You! I should-! Fine, you cretin! Two coins and I'll take you the rest of the way, and no touching my cargo! It's worth far more than you are!" He was positively shaking, the rolls on his belly quivering as I grabbed another coin, putting both in his large meaty hand. The big man then grumbled a bit about me looking awful and smelling worse before walking out of sight.

The guards mostly left me alone after that, the young one occasionally letting his camel slow a bit in order to ensure I hadn't stolen anything and ran off. I just held onto the rope until we were in line to enter the city, taking small sips of my water the whole way there.

I wondered if they might have a place where I could earn some coin, and maybe take a bath. I hadn't washed my coat in two months, and it was starting to stink more than I did.