Lukios was right. There were travellers on the road.

It had taken them four days to get to the main road. Walking through the wilderness while avoiding the hottest parts of the day had been difficult, and Ba’an’s need to rest intermittently had slowed them down. Lukios did not complain; if anything, he insisted they rest when they could. The only concern with such extended travel time was water. Once they reached the main road, there were water stations every so often. But before then, they would only have what they had carried with them, which was two each. Ba’an had been nervous, wondering if there would be enough every time they set up camp.

But now they were on the main road.

It was much faster to walk on the stones, though they were annoyingly uneven. At the next water station, they met a merchant and his small caravan.

“Ho, fellow travellers!” The man was tall, with a dark, well-trimmed beard. He looked to be Ba’an’s age, and he moved in a sprightly, energetic way. His clothes were well-tailored, though he had been practical enough to forgo any other obvious luxury. A wise decision, as displays of wealth were often too tempting for thieves and bandits to pass up. His skin was nearly the same shade as Lukios’, though just a touch darker. His hair was brown, though anything aside from that was hard to tell; as with everyone travelling the desert road, he had covered up. The sun was always deadly.

“Ho!” Lukios greeted the man with the same enthusiasm. They could see he had wagons, staff, and guards. It would be a good idea to travel together—if the man allowed it. In fact, some other travellers had already joined—it was evident by the way they were dressed, the clothes in different styles and in varying states of wear-and-tear. It seemed the man enjoyed picking up companions.

The man approached, and he and Lukios shook hands. Ba'an saw his eyes dart to Lukios' ring.

“Where are you travelling from?” Naturally, he wanted news.

“The desert. Nothing to report except sand, sand, and the occasional dust storm.” Lukios grinned in a very charming way. “And you?”

“Ah, you were travelling through the desert? How daring.” His eyes flicked to Ba’an, taking in her darker complexion beneath her hood. “Oh, I see. You have one of the Red Sand folk with you.” He smiled, and Ba'an noted he had blindingly white teeth. “Greetings, young sir, young lady. I am Terutus.”

“I am Lukios.”

“I am Ba’an.” She inclined her head, ignoring his curious stare.

“Well met, Lukios and Ba’an. As to your question, I have recently been in Elysium.” He gestured to the caravan and wagons of merchandise. “This is our usual circuit.”

They walked together to the fire that had already been built on the flat platform beside the well.

“Any news? I’ve been in the desert nearly five months.”

“Five months!” Terutus appeared shocked. “Are you a scholar, perhaps?” His gaze shifted to Ba’an again. “A writer of travelogues?”

Lukios smiled. “I’m afraid not. I ran into some trouble and the K’Avaari were kind enough to show some hospitality.” He gave a little shrug. “My only talent is being incredibly lucky, it seems.”

Terutus’ eyes were wide. “Indeed. You must have quite a story to tell. I must hear it sometime, if you are willing.”

Lukios shrugged. “Sure. I’ll warn you now, it’s really not that interesting. Just a whole lot of bad luck and then finally some good.”

“You may be surprised by what seems mundane to you may be fantastical to another. Ah! But you wished to hear news! I will indulge you. Five months…hm. Ah yes…”

Ba’an leaned against Lukios, shutting her eyes. He put his arm around her reflexively, letting her rest against him. She listened to the two of them converse about Dolkoi’ri matters, and soon there were other voices joining in.

The price of olives had gone up, because bandits had taken a fort near a major trade route. The council of the local city had beseeched the capital for assistance, but it was coming slowly. Someone speculated that the bandits had been hired to camp there, and they fell into a vigorous debate about dueling merchant families trying to out sabotage the other. It was a very Dolkoi’ri story.

Eventually the topic petered out. Someone started talking about a missing noblewoman, and she felt Lukios stiffen. Blinking, she sat up. She put her hand on his knee, but he only put his hand over hers and squeezed it. He gave her a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes as the men continued to talk.

“…snatched right from her wedding procession. I can’t even imagine the size of the balls on the guy that did it. Can you imagine? Kidnapping the bride of the heir to House Helios? Anyway, I heard they won’t pay the ransom. Turns out she’s not-so-virtuous after all, and so they—”

“What do you mean, they won’t pay the ransom?” Lukios’ voice was sharp. She saw Terutus sit up and take notice. Ba’an squeezed his knee in warning.

“Well, was a bunch of sandy goat-fuckers that did it, y'know. Wanted a stupid pile of ransom too, and not in coin. Anyways, the man that went to talk came back an' said that she was knocked up. No man in his right mind would pay ransom for a whore, 'specially not one who spreads it for goat-fuckers. Joke’s on them, they can keep her.”

Sandy goat-fuckers. Ba’an’s stare turned to the speaker, a young man with a scar over his lip and a patch over his left eye. When he saw her looking—saw her face—he flushed.

“Ah, no disrespect, lady. Not talking 'bout you; I’m sure you’re nice.” There was a bit of a leer at the end of nice as his eyes flicked to Lukios and back.

“Watch it.” Lukios’ voice was flat. He was also a much bigger man, and armed. Eyepatch paled and cleared his throat.

“Meant no disrespect. Just the news. Like you asked.”

“Friends! Peace. I’m sure Dikos here did not mean to offend. We do not even know if such rumors are true. How would the good folk of the Red Sands even know who was in the carriage?” Terutus smiled widely, showing off his blindingly white teeth. “I am sure our gentle lady Ba’an would have heard the news already if it were true, and she would have told sir Lukios as well. Isn’t that so?”

“The K’Avaari do not attack travellers on the desert road, except in times of war. It is es’tat. Forbidden.” Those travelling through the territory in peace were protected under hospitality laws, unless they broke the peace first. Stealing would do it. So would disturbing K’Avaari travel signs, or even one of their many shrines to the thousands and thousands of spirits that lived somewhere in the sands. Sometimes outlanders got themselves into trouble with their rudeness.

“If you travel K’Avaari territory, do not disturb the stone signs. Do not move the shrines. Do not take water, food, or offerings from the shrines without proper obeisance. Do not kick them over…” Ba’an listed, in the cool voice she had used on Vaa’ti and Salu’ka a countless number of times, the things they should refrain from if they wanted to travel the desert.

They stared.

Lukios smiled genially.

“…You can speak Illosian?” Eyepatch sounded shocked.

“Yes.”

“That is fascinating, lady Ba’an. Tell me, are those customs the same throughout all the tribes of the Red Sands?” Terutus was beaming.

What an odd man.

“Most of them. The basic manners are the same. There are some small differences. Be polite. You will be treated well.” She looked Eyepatch in his remaining eye. “There is no reason for K’Avaari to raid a marriage procession. There is nothing to gain.”

“Right. Must just be a rumor then.” Dikos edged away and fell quiet.

“Truly, it must only be a rumor. Tell me, lady Ba’an, I have heard that there is a custom of…”

Terutus was full of questions. Ba’an was pleased and flummoxed to find that Lukios was not the only outlander with curiosity. The evening turned darker as Ba’an answered as many questions as Terutus wished.

At one point, Lukios brought her dinner. She ate, still conversing with Terutus on the bridal customs of K’Avaari. Lukios sat nearby, but he was speaking with the other travellers, picking up what news he could of the kidnapping without being obvious. There was other news too, Ba’an was sure, but she was too distracted to really focus on what he was doing.

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“Ah, so the courtship is truly so long?”

“If she wishes. Some do not wish to delay.” Some delayed forever, like witches. Witches could not marry. Witches and K’Avaari magic, however, were not topics to be discussed with outlanders. That, she would keep secret.

“I see.” Terutus appeared thoughtful. He lapsed into silence. He looked at her, opening his mouth, but then hesitated. Glancing at Lukios, he started again, voice quiet. “I could not help but notice that you and sir Lukios appear to be…courting.”

Ba’an blinked. She had not been expecting this topic. Was it not rude to mention it?

“You do not appear engaged or married.” He gestured to her finger. Ba’an looked down at her hand, curious.

“I do not understand. Is marriage related to my hand?”

“What? Oh. I see. That must be different. Here in the Empire we use rings to signify relationships. If you are unmarried, you do not wear one on your ring finger—this one.” He wriggled his finger so the gold ring he wore gleamed in the light of the fire. “If you are engaged, you wear a single band made of silver. If you are wed, you replace it with one of gold. I noticed neither you nor Lukios wear bands. Do the People of the Sand do something different?”

They did. She relaxed now that she understood his question.

“Yes. Women tie up their hair with their…hm, there is no outlander word, I think. It is a kesh. The man gifts it to the woman before the wedding. He will give her also his sumanu’ta.”

“Sumata?”

“Sumanu’ta. A boy becomes a man when he completes his…sumanu’ta. It is…it is something he must do to become a man. If he is a hunter he must hunt alone and bring a good kill. If he is a…potter, then he must…craft a pot that is approved by a master. That is his sumanu’ta. It must be given to his bride, along with other goods. She will wear the kesh for the rest of her life. If the sumanu’ta is…jewelry or clothes, then she will wear those also. The man is given her sa-kesh, which he will wear. The colours and patterns of the kesh and sa-kesh match.”

Terutus seemed to find this amusing. “Ah, I see. So goes his manhood.”

Ba’an did not quite understand what he meant. She blinked at him. “His manhood? I do not understand. His wife will bear him children. His manhood is…intact.” How else would they have children?

Terutus’ smile only grew wider. Now he was not merely amused—he was very amused. “Ah. That is a fair trade, indeed. No man would...complain.” Terutus seemed to think this explained it, but Ba'an was even more confused. Perhaps it was a strange Dolkoi'ri concept she did not know—she would have to ask Lukios.

His attention shifted to her visage beneath her hood, his eyes suddenly keen to the point of cutting. Ba’an stared back, confused by the sudden interest.

“So if a woman wears her hair down, she is unwed?”

“I…yes. That is often correct. A married woman almost always ties her hair with her kesh.” Ba’an paused. “She is given more than one, of course. They look the same. But of course, unmarried women also tie their hair. Only not with kesh.”

“I see. Just some companionship, then.”

“Companionship?” Ba’an was thrown again. Terutus only smiled and held up his hands with the palms facing forward.

“Nothing. Please, ignore my rambling. It is getting late. Will you and sir Lukios camp here with the rest of us?”

“Yes. It will be safer.”

“Excellent. I must suggest we all travel to Kyros together in the morning.”

“Yes. I will tell Lukios.” He smiled at her again and bid her a goodnight.

Ba’an returned to the little area where Lukios and she had set their tent and bedroll. She crawled in, thinking about whether she should take off her coat at all. What if they were raided in the night?

No, better to keep it on. Her travelling cloak too, just in case.

Lukios popped his head in. “Ba’an? You done?”

“Yes. I am tired.” She could see his grin even in the dark.

“Thought so. I brought a snack for you. Hungry, right?”

“Yes.” She took his treat, which was something she had never had before. It was some kind of bread with—she broke it open—meat and vegetables inside. “What is this?” She looked at it curiously.

“It’s a meat bun. One of the travellers gave it to me. Thought you’d like it.”

Oh. Of course. Lukios was very charming. She bit into it. “It is good. How is it warm?”

“I stuck it near the fire on a rock.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll get you some other things to try once we get to Kyros. I’ll be back in a minute.” He popped back out.

Ba’an settled into the bed roll. They had put two of them together to make one, but even so, Ba’an didn’t think Lukios would quite fit.

Ba’an was drowsing when she felt Lukios settle in beside her. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Mmm. Lukios?”

“Hmm?”

“Terutus said we should travel together.”

“Oh, yeah. I checked with him just now.” He kissed her temple. “I think he’ll let you ride in the wagon. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. Goodnight, Lukios.”

“Sleep well, Ba’an.”

----------------------------------------

The days flew by. They made good time, travelling by wagon. Terutus and Ba’an sat inside the covered coach, chatting. Lukios, who was obviously good with a sword, had fallen in with the guards. It was not something that Terutus had asked of him, but he had fallen into it naturally, eyes and ears always alert as they travelled.

Ba’an missed having him beside her, but she understood. Anytime they sat together, they ended up touching, whether it was their knees or hands or some other wayward part of their bodies. It was deeply frustrating. She wanted him badly but they could do nothing in the thin tent—truly, it was more a tarp then a tent, held together by leather straps—but sleep. When they woke Lukios was always full of fruitless desire, pressing against her as his hands roved over her restlessly.

It would not be good to sit so closely together in the wagon.

So Lukios walked outside, always on the lookout for signs of an ambush, and Ba’an rode inside with Terutus. At first Lukios had not liked it—there were no other woman, and he disliked the thought of her alone with another man—but it would have been awkward for him to sit in the wagon when others were walking or riding mules. He checked on her regularly, which she found deeply amusing. Terutus, on the other hand, seemed to think it was something expected. Perhaps this was another Dolkoi’ri custom, ensuring women did not sit alone with men inside a wagon.

K’Avaari women and men did not mingle so freely either, but they were not that restricted. Travelling by wagon would be an exception, though only old or infirm men rode inside. A K’Avaari merchant who was hale would have ridden in the front, but Terutus was Dolkoi’ri. Their customs were always different.

Today Ba’an was telling him some folktales.

“Yes, that is why the sun and moon never touch.”

“A sad tale. Truly, I envy sir Lukios. To think he heard your stories for five months! Lucky man, indeed.”

Ba’an felt her mouth twitch in amusement. Flattery.

“Is this when you ask me for something?”

He laughed. “A man cannot get anything past you, can he?”

“No. Do not try. Ask Lukios—it does not work.”

The wagon came to a stop and someone called them from outside. “The gates!”

“Ah! Of course.” Terutus climbed outside. He turned and offered her his hand. It seemed like Dolkoi’ri manners to take it, so Ba’an did. He beamed at her. “We must register at the gate. I will find sir Lukios for you first, however.” He craned his neck, glancing behind them. “There he is.”

After that it was a flurry of activity. The travellers all queued, more orderly than Ba’an would have expected. Even so, there were many people, all of them with things, sometimes with wagons, and it was chaotic enough. Ba’an had come this way before, but only in the early morning or late evening hours. She did not enjoy crowds. Usually there were only two or three travellers before her, if there were any at all. This—this was different.

The gates faced east, and to the south side of the road was an amphitheatre which nearly always sat empty. To the north was a wide, flat spot for caravans. That was nearly always full, and Ba’an could see they were in fine form today—men were already walking up and down the line of travellers, hawking their wares. Some of them carried pots of water with a cup or a basket of hot food, and Ba’an could see those were very popular.

Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. Lukios was speaking with Terutus, and she did not wish to disturb him to ask him to buy her something. She put her hand inside her cloak to her waist-pouch. She had a few coppers herself, but she did not know how much the food should cost. It was likely they would overcharge her if they even looked at her at all—which they were not.

Even when the caravan park had been full of merchants, none of them had ever bothered with Ba’an before. She thought perhaps it had been her timing and attire; she always dressed in the K’Avaari way, which was already simple, and her clothes were threadbare besides. She did not look wealthy, or even comfortably well-off—she looked destitute. Even now none of them glanced her way, instead focusing on men like Terutus.

Ba’an hung back, standing behind Lukios as he spoke with their host. Ba’an stared at the flock of people, watching them argue with the gate guards who were fastidiously checking the items inside the wagons. She was too preoccupied by the noise, the crush of people and her growling belly to pay much mind to what they were discussing. Perhaps if they had been speaking in K’Avaari these distractions would not have mattered much, but she could not understand Dolkoi’ri easily unless she focused.

“—not the prettiest Sander woman I’ve seen, it’s true, but they’re quite rare these days. Not too many on the market. And Ba’an can speak Illosian. I’ll double—”

Ba’an swivelled her head just in time to see Lukios grab Terutus by the throat and slam him into the side of the wagon so hard it rocked.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The guards stared for only a heartbeat, then sprang into action. Lukios was faster; he twisted Terutus around, locking his arms behind his back and bringing him to his knees so he could no longer fight back.

“Oi. Dikos. Eutus. You think you can gut me faster than I can gut him?”

“Sir Lukios. Please. Calm down. There is a misundersta—”

“You stop yapping or my hand might slip. Ba’an. We’re leaving. Now.” Lukios looked down at Terutus. His eyes were blazing. This was not the cold anger he had shown toward Vaa’ti; this was rage. “If I ever, ever see you sniffing around, I won’t bother warning you. Understand?” He shook the merchant violently. “I said, do you understand?”

“I—Yes. Yes. There’s not need for violence.” His teeth clicked as Lukios shook him.

Lukios kicked him to the ground, where Terutus lay curled around himself, gasping. “Stay there. Suits you.” He reached out for her. “Ba’an.”

She frowned. She was not sure what Terutus had said, exactly, but it had clearly not been good. She stepped around him and went to Lukios. He put his arm around her and guided her up to the front of the line, ignoring the angry protests of the people they passed. Ba’an glanced back, concerned the Terutus’ guards would come after them. In the distance she could see them helping him up, looking over in their direction. This was not good.

“Halt. You need to stand in line.” The guardsmen in Kyros always looked unimpressed, but this one looked especially underwhelmed.

Lukios gave him a flat stare. He lifted his hand, the one with the fancy ring, and snapped, “You gonna stop me?” The man stared at the signet, then back at Lukios. For a moment he looked like he was going to protest again, but then he just waved his hand in a tired way.

“Very well. I will be sure to register a complaint to House Helios. You must peace bond your weapon and place it out of sight upon entering. You will be fined if the blade is visibly holstered and jailed if unsheathed in a public place. Have a good day, sir.”

Lukios tugged her hand and took her through the gate.