Chapter 4
Reena and Stench
The streets of the small town seemed especially busy this morning. People scurried from place to place to hurry about their daily business. Dunabar had not seen so many visitors in quite some time. As a smaller settlement on the very outskirts of the country, it was usually little more than a temporary stopover on the way to bigger and better things. It held its place as an outpost and rest stop from one land to another, a break from the wilds for weary travelers. Several trading caravans had recently arrived and paused on their course to such better destinations. One of these caravans was part passenger, part merchant goods and hailed from the holy city of Plenth on the way westward to its distant destination of Kandair. Villinsk remained a close ally with Kandair despite recent developments. Once they both stood as pillars of the mighty Three-Empire League, the primary governing force for good and law on the continent of Pangias. That was before the great wars and the Dark Lord stripped the land to its foundations and crumbled much of what was by corrupting the Ice Empress and Caller’s Council of Flaren. The continent-spanning War of the Gems over half a decade past had toppled the league, but they remained strong allies to this day even after the death of Villinsk’s beloved Warrior King. And so, many caravans passed between this country and that one selling goods and trading wares. The recently crowned young King Phandremere Cromear had an especially close relationship with the Queen of Kandair making these trading routes the best maintained in the area. That was what Reena was betting on. She needed this caravan to get her out of Villinsk’s borders and into a neutral land where she could start life anew. There was nothing left for her in Villinsk. The Great Wars disrupted everything and left many lives broken, including her own. She lost her mother then though she hardly remembered the woman. That was back in Merintz, the merchant kingdom. She left there for this country with her father. Her wanderings since brought little satisfaction here. Even the holy city of Plenth offered the young girl no solace. She stared out of the back of the wagon watching the people scramble here and there in preparation for selling goods in Dunabar. They looked like a nest of ants disturbed by a stray step. Watching the people scurry about made her wonder what was their driving force? What made them each wake come morning? What was the purpose of it all? The young girl wanted that whatever it was. She desperately wanted a life that mattered. She studied the other caravans with interest, taking note of how happy their passengers and workers seemed. It looked nice, pleasant even.
“Stop gawking at the sights and get to setting up my tent, you little wretch!” The tall, portly man grabbed a handful of rice and flung it at her.
Reena shielded her eyes from the assault. Fool me once, the old saying went. This would have been fool me what, a hundred times? The man sure seemed to waste a lot of rice that way. The sisters at her old orphanage in Plenth would not be happy about that. The thin girl slipped out of the wagon and began preparations for setting up a small tent front for the merchant’s sales. She would have moved much faster had she set down her backpack, but that was her everything. She carried all her worldly possessions in that tattered bag and dared not part with it for a second. She even slept with her pack as a pillow. The girl often spoke to the pack like it was a friend, her only friend. Her thin frame, ruddy skin and short bobbed brown hair made her look even younger than her actual thirteen summers. Some mistook her for a young boy. Reena did not care. She preferred that. Boys often found an easier path on the streets alone. Life had been hard for the child orphan and so she took everything in stride. She developed a thick hide. People were cruel. Currently, she served the spice merchant, Fandingo. He was neither generous nor friendly, but his frugal nature lent itself to the hiring of a small girl that many others overlooked. Plus, the man enjoyed having his “slaves”. Slavery did not exist in these lands. Villisnk was built from the ground up a free nation in most aspects. The foreign merchant came from the desert lands far to the east where such practices were still commonplace. He enjoyed maintaining that feeling of importance by keeping his personal servant, a young orphan girl with nowhere else to go, also known as his slave. All she lacked was proper branding.
“Hurry! Get to working!” He grabbed another handful of rice and tossed it forcefully into her face and hair. It stung when it hit her skin, so she yelped. Fandingo enjoyed his rice throwing and her yelping. Evidently, it was some sort of tradition from his homeland used against their slaves for punishment and entertainment. She did not see the joy in it, especially on the receiving end. It made her never want to visit his lands.
“Yes, master. I will have your tent set and ready in moments.” She dipped her head respectfully to the man with her hands clasped in front of her, just as he taught her to do. She detested calling him master. It was less a gesture of respect and more a gesture of fear. Fandingo had no reservations about striking a woman or a child.
Reena scrambled to unfurl the tent and place the stakes. She was small and young but had a wiry strength and a tenacious nature. She swung the hammer to place the stakes and arranged his traveling storefront just as he liked in record time. She leaned against the wagon to catch her breath as sweat drenched her. She was quite proud of herself.
“That was faster than last time,” she whispered to her tattered bag with a grin.
Fandingo approached in his full-length silk robes and headdress. The robes were a collection of random symbols plus an array of bright colors. The headdress displayed a large ostrich feather at its center that stood tall and bounced atop his head. The entire collage that was Fandingo seemed ostentatious and ridiculous to Reena. It held no cultural or religious significance. He simply wore the outfit to impress the locals and help them feel special by buying from the foreign man. Everything about him was disingenuous. Fandingo’s whole persona was a bogus ploy to emphasize his distant roots and play on the ignorance of the people. A tiny feather monkey rode along on his shoulder, hopping up and down excitedly.
“Calm yourself Poog. It is nothing more than a small, rundown town, a mud-caked hole in the road not fit to step in. There is nothing to be excited about here.”
The monkey reached into the pouch at his waist and flung a pinch of rice in Reena’s face for no reason at all as they passed. The girl was unprepared this time. It was a trick the merchant taught his pet. Some of it went into her mouth and the girl coughed. Poog screamed excitedly and Fandingo chuckled while the monkey hopped up and down. Though he moved at a glacial pace, his weight made him sweat as if he had just run a race. The dark-skinned man surveyed the work with a critical glance. Everything was in excellent order. This girl had a good eye for detail and a sharp mind. What a waste, he thought. Slaves did not need to be intelligent. Perhaps he could convince her to return with him to the desert lands. He could probably sell her for a good price or perhaps brand her and keep her as his own. That was a thought for another time. The man made it a point to keep his instructions to her confusing. He spotted Poog’s pillow placed to the right of his chair. It was supposed to be on the left. That one small error was Reena’s only misstep.
His gaze hardened with a hint of a smile on his thick lips. “Did you intend to upset me with this, slave?” the man asked incredulously as he towered over the small girl. The effort to look down upon her turned his triple chin into a quintuple chin. Reena gazed up with her big eyes fearfully. She shook her head from side to side slowly, nervously. Fandingo hauled back and slapped her across the face, knocking her to the ground. “The pillow goes on the left of my chair! On the left! The left! You do know your left from your right?” He waved one hand over her head then the other causing her to cringe each time. He enjoyed the display immensely. Poog screeched excitedly. “Don’t let it happen again, you little wretch. I have a mind to leave you here in this God’s forsaken mud hole, coinless and alone. You’d die on the streets as a discarded nuisance.”
A woman in artisan’s garb carrying a tray of baked goods stepped between the large, robed man and the cringing girl on her knees with the bloody lip. “How dare you strike a child like that?” She was red in the face and full of figure. Her knuckles grew white as she clutched her tray in anger. She looked to Reena and smiled, offering the young girl a ginger tart. “Are you alright, my dear? Did he hurt you? Should I call the town guard?”
Reena accepted the ginger tart, scarfing it down quickly. She eyed the tray of baked goods. They smelled so delicious. Her big brown, doe-like eyes darted from the nice woman to Fandingo. She jumped to her feet, struggling to shoulder her big backpack, and quickly wiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand. She then offered up a timid smile. “I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you for the tart. It was delicious. I’ve been so hungry…” Reena seemed to catch her words before she finished. She stopped talking. Fandingo glowered at her and Poog mimicked his emotion.
The kindly baker woman spun back to face the merchant. “Are you not feeding this child properly either?” She could barely contain her anger. “Is she your child? Why is she so thin when you most definitely are not?” The woman jabbed an accusing finger at the round man’s belly.
Fandingo laughed and sneered at the woman. “She is but a servant, a hired hand on the road, a dirty little orphan in need of work, which I kindly provide.” He turned to Reena with his eyes wide and brows raised high. “Do I not give you enough to eat, sla… child? Perhaps you would like more rice?” Reena clasped her hands together in front of her and dipped her head respectfully to the big man.
“No ma’am, he takes good care of me,” she stated in a subdued tone. Fandingo chuckled and stroked the chin of his tiny monkey. He cast the baker a smug grin and waved her away.
The baker looked from Reena to Fandingo and back again. She sighed heavily and handed the young girl another tart, this one apple. “Here, eat this and know my shop is just around the corner if you need anything, understood? The apple is my personal specialty.” She smiled and winked at the young girl. She then brushed her cheek which drew another sneer from Fandingo. The stocky woman waddled off and made her way to her shop drawing eyes to her wares by parading them through the busy streets and singing.
Fandingo raised his hand, causing Reena to flinch. He did not strike this time, it would be better to keep the fear building and the blows unexpected. It drew more respect from his slaves. “You’ll pay for that little show later.” He took his seat with a heavy grunt. His girth was not so easy to maneuver. Luckily his chair was sturdy. Sweat already soaked through his fine silk robes as his belly jiggled. “Fetch me some wine. I’m parched and the day is hot in this armpit of a town.”
Reena raced off to collect the wineskin. “Stench,” she whispered to her tattered pack, “I know our plan was to travel with this merchant all the way to Kandair, but I’m not sure I’ll last at this rate…” she sighed. “He’s one of the worst masters yet. And that monkey is… well… let us just call him annoying. It’s only been a week plus a half and I’m breaking down. You know it kills me to admit that.” She grabbed the wineskin and hauled it back to the man. It was one of the biggest wineskins she had ever seen in her life. The small girl had to rest it on her hip with her arms wrapped about it. Fandingo enjoyed his wine. He drank it daily and fell to sleep with it in hand nightly. She was pretty sure he had a drinking problem.
Once the sales part of the day began, Reena found some time to herself, time to explore and time to relax. Seeing new sights and new people was a favorite pastime of hers. She wove her way through the crowded streets with practiced ease though several passersby clipped her during the trek. Most people hardly took notice of the orphan waif. She passed the young brother and sister selling their handmade beaded bracelets. She slipped past the man shouting as he pushed his fruit cart along the street. She even squeezed past the young mercenary soldier dressed in his town guard armor and wearing his amulet with a symbol of a white rose, the symbol of Dunabar. As an orphan of the last five years, she had learned to survive the hard way. When people bumped into her, she did not let it bother her at all. She was a nothing, a nobody, practically invisible to most people. Of course, they bumped into her. She did not matter. She paused periodically to rest and set her pack down. It grew heavy after a while. She often regretted not being stronger or bigger like the warrior women of Xifanos. She would never need to seek out work then. People would seek her, they would see her, someone would want her for once. Villinsk had a healthy market for mercenaries, but alas, she was thin and small and to most, useless or worse, invisible.
Reena slipped through the tight aisles of an unguent-filled shop. “I guess it isn’t so bad, Stench. He feeds me… lots of rice.” She rolled her eyes. “And he leaves me to myself during days like this.” She addressed her pack with a frown as she rubbed her swollen lip. It stopped bleeding. “I suppose we’ve seen worse, right? How badly do we need to reach Kandair? We don’t even know there is anything waiting for us. Is this a wise choice? Only time will tell.” She exited her tour of the smelly building and rested her head against the outer wall of the apothecary, in the alley. She paused to rub an ointment on her lip and reduce the swelling. The alley was quiet and shaded. The wall felt cool against her back and her muscles needed a break from the strain of the heavy pack. Reena wanted a moment of solitude to think. If she didn’t stick with Fandingo, then where would she go? She needed a plan, or she would just end up on the streets all over again. She hated wandering the streets of a new city without a plan. Reena had hoped to reach Kandair and seek out the temple of Mariksis there. She heard tales of how the temple took in young orphans and trained them with actual skills before finding them work and a new life. People spoke of the Queen of Kandair sponsoring such programs among the temples in their capital city. She sounded like a nice lady. It sounded like a dream come true. But that wasn’t something that had to happen tomorrow. She heard a faint snoring and smiled. Up she went to head back to the market square where the caravans all parked. Her decision resolved.
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“Thanks, Stench, these talks are good for me,” she giggled.
* * * * * * * * * *
The tall, rounded man handed over another pouch of his spices. The locals of Dunabar flocked to buy his wares. His garish outfit enticed them just as he intended. That made him happy. They liked engaging with the desert lander. His accent and false claims of mystic origins excited them. Exotic spices from his distant land rarely found their way to Dunabar. For such a backwater little town, they had good taste. Fandingo stretched his flabby arms overhead with his fingers interlaced, cracking his knuckles loudly. He snapped his fingers and Poog squeaked then hopped to rest on his shoulder. He rocked himself off his chair and began to look for his little slave. Where had she gotten to? Having to search for your slaves was such an inconvenience. Back home one’s slaves were always ready, hanging on your every word and eager to serve. He was done working and ready for rest and have a drink. The man took a moment to air out his robes. They grew wet under his rump and between the folds of his sides, belly and flabby breasts as sweat caused the material to stick to him. It also formed dark spots from the moisture.
“Child!” He called out in agitation. She would pay for this. He should not have to find her. “Where are you, you little wretch?” Poog hopped up and down on his shoulder squealing loudly. “I know, my sweet boy. She is utterly useless, isn’t she?” The feather monkey chattered back at him as if agreeing and he stroked the animal under his chin.
Reena arrived in a huff. She ran as fast as she could when she heard Fandingo calling. Lucky for her she was but a caravan away. The wagons next to them were headed to the city of Sabline through The Forest of Shade. It was a much smaller caravan, only three wagons in total. They seemed like nice people. They were in mourning over the loss of someone. It was a bit somber but still more pleasant than her ride with Fandingo would be. One of them, a prissy minstrel, even offered her a place in his wagon if she was interested, free of charge no less. He needed a captive audience to critique his performance material, said the others weren’t interested. He was on his way to Peccadillo, City of Entertainment. That sounded fun. They were leaving at daybreak. Reena desperately wanted to join them and accept his offer, but she had made a commitment to Fandingo and knew her business with the foreign spice merchant was not complete. How could anyone ever respect her or take her seriously if she abandoned her commitments so flippantly? With a heavy heart and tenacious resolution, she raced back to answer his call.
“I am here,” she called out in a huff, pausing to catch her breath. “Would you like me to take down the tent now, master?” He liked it when she called him master. She thought it might help distract from him having to call for her. The scrawny girl struggled to stand upright with her big pack on her back. She smiled up at him as she collected the huge wineskin from his chair.
Fandingo backhanded her, knocking her to the ground. “Do I look as if I’m still selling wares?” He glared. Poog hopped up and down screaming excitedly. Grabbing a handful of rice from the big merchant’s waist pouch, the monkey hurled it into her face and hair. Fandingo chuckled, nudging her with his foot. “Now, get up and stop spilling my wine, wretch! You’d know what I needed if you were here like you’re supposed to be!”
Reena wiped the blood from her lips a second time. He busted the earlier wound back open. She crawled to her feet while corking the wineskin. She picked rice from her stringy hair. The orphan girl moved to pull the stakes and lower the sales tent before packing it. She noticed several bags of spices were missing as she repacked. The collection of wares was much smaller than before.
“You had a good day, huh? I see lots of bags are missing. I bet you made a lot of coin!” She grinned up at the big man. Her large doe-like eyes seeking an answer.
Fandingo glared down his wide nose at her. This little orphan really could not learn her place. A slave did not speak to the master unless bidden to do so and most certainly did not speak of business or coins. Why was that concept so difficult to grasp in these lands? And what would possess her to think he might discuss his business and his coin intake with a useless slave? He grumbled something under his breath, not bothering to respond to her question.
“Get my wineskin to the wagon first. I’ll drink while I watch to make certain you don’t damage anything repacking the wares. If you do damage anything, I’ll deduct it from your wages for the day.” The monkey on his shoulder flicked its long tail in her direction as if telling the girl to hurry. Fandingo chuckled at the display and offered the monkey a treat. “Yes, yes, my sweet boy.” The big man waddled away, shaking his robes from his body to help stop his excessive sweating. He clapped his hands to remind her to bring that wineskin immediately.
She wiped the last traces of blood from her busted lip. Reena brushed a hand through her matted and sweat-soaked hair. At least her hair was short, cut into a bob, which kept her shoulders and neck cooler and required little attention aside from picking the rice free. “You know Stench,” she addressed her backpack as if it were a person. “I think I would like to join another caravan. It would be easy to walk away now. This merchant is one of the worst employers ever. He always finds a way to deduct from my wages.” She hauled the wineskin up, resting it on her hip and then made her way to his wagon to load it for him. When she reached the steps leading up to his personal area she paused and sighed. Her first thought was to dump the wine and head for the minstrel’s wagon on the other caravan. She could be done with Fandingo and this whole ordeal. “I can’t. I’m just not that kind of person, Stench. I have business here, unfinished business. I must see my commitments through to the end. I made a decision, and I must stick to it. My father taught me that. It’s how people come to respect you.”
With a grimace, she struggled up the steps, carrying her backpack and the extremely large wineskin. Inside, Fandingo rested on his overstuffed pillows arranged into a sort of chair-bed. The portly man spent most of his time on the road reclined on these expensive pillows ordering her around while his monkey screeched and threw rice at her. She sighed and handed him his oversized wineskin. The merchant snatched it away and sucked down a healthy gulp. He began barking orders as usual about what to load first and how it should be done just so. Young Reena headed out to grab the first round of bags as ordered. The fat man reclined and drank as she returned with the first and then the second round of bags filled with his exotic spices. The girl set them in place leaning against their storage chests to pause and wipe the sweat from her eyes. These spices were surprisingly heavy. Seeing her resting angered the man greatly. She was such a lazy slave. He crawled to his feet while Poog the monkey chattered at her.
“You lazy little wretch! I have half a mind to beat you senseless and leave you in a ditch just outside of town.” He rocked to a stance then took a step towards her with his hand raised to strike. He stumbled, losing his balance and then toppled over on his large belly with a loud cry followed by a grunt. He looked up at the small girl standing over him. Rage welled behind his dark eyes. Suddenly, there were two of her. “Don’t just stand there like the useless lump that you are! Help me up, stupid child!” He slurred. His speech sounded as if he had consumed far too much wine. He had been drinking all day. His tongue felt fat and dry in his mouth.
Reena moved to his side and crouched next to him. She reached out to take his arm but Poog bit her and chattered angrily. She recoiled with an “ouch!” That only made Fandingo laugh then growl angrily at her.
“I said help me up, slave!” His vision grew blurry. He found it difficult to sit up on his arms. Reena looked down on him with her doe-like eyes in pity. That look made him even more irate. “I say... sa… said… helb... hep…” The interior of the wagon began to spin in his vision.
Reena reached out, placing a hand to his forehead. “Oh, are you not well?” Her concern shifted to a giggle. “It’s about time. That might have something to do with what I dropped into that ridiculous wineskin you suck on like a nursing hog all day, you fat bastard! I paid a visit to a local apothecary earlier. Turns out this little backwater shithole has a pretty damn good selection of drugs and poisons.” She moved her hand to pat his flabby cheek roughly, jiggling his face. “Yep, it seems to be working nicely. I put enough in there to drop a cow, seemed about right. Looks like you’ll be down and quiet in no time.” The skinny girl grinned deviously while rubbing her hands together.
Poog the monkey jumped forward to bite at her hand. He chattered a warning at the girl. Reena recoiled then shifted her backpack from her shoulders and held it out between her and Poog like a shield. “Stench!” She screamed. “Get your lazy ass out here now and deal with this little shit! It keeps biting me!”
The backpack popped open and a sleepy-eyed gremlin with blue skin, big floppy ears and two tiny nostril holes in place of a nose glared out. The gremlin took one look at the chattering monkey and his large, orange eyes popped open wide while his big mouth spread into a huge grin full of mismatched teeth. His spindly arms lashed out to grab Poog with long fingers tipped with claws. The gremlin was only slightly larger than Poog. Stench dragged the screaming monkey back with him into the pack, letting the lid fall closed over them. There was a scuffle, a few more screeches from the monkey. Then the sound of chewing and crunching.
Stench’s muffled voice rang out between chews. “Him is sweet boy. Mmmm. Yep! Yep!”
Reena giggled and placed the pack over her shoulders to rest on her back again. A loud fart sounded from inside the pack and suddenly the wagon smelled terrible. It smelled like sewage of the cities mixed with rotten fish. That gremlin stuffed so much random crap into his belly that only the Gods knew what was coming out.
“Aww Stench! You smell so foul! Learn to wash your nasty little ass sometimes. Do I need to clean my backpack now? For the love of all that’s holy… ugggg….” The girl began fanning her face to cut through the awful smell. Not even a wagon full of spices could cover the awful stink. The gremlin giggled loudly from inside the pack. She fought to suppress a grin.
The girl began to pick through the wagon. She snatched up a few things including the drugged merchant’s coin purse. She jingled the bag of coins in front of his face and smiled.
“Looks like it was a good day for sales after all.”
The girl then whipped out a small knife from hiding under her belt and jabbed it into the man’s roll of fat on his left side. Blood quickly soaked those fancy silk robes along with the sweat. The wound was not too bad, but it would ensure the man would have to seek medical attention before traveling. He would be bedridden for a couple of days for sure. Never leave them able to give chase if you can help it. That was one of her father’s golden rules. That and always have an escape route planned. Reena grew up on the streets of several cities in Merintz and Villinsk. Her mother died young to raiding scuffles during the Great Wars and so her father raised her the only way he knew how, as a pickpocket and a con artist. They travelled through the merchant kingdom and then to the land of enchantments. Daddy Po, as he liked to be called, often used the girl to distract his “marks” and to throw off potential threats. There were many times where he would toss her to the street behind him as he fled so she could scream and cry for help, distracting the authorities while he escaped with the stolen goods. He always returned later to steal her back. It was a system, a good system. They were a team. It worked for them. They ate well. But, one day when she was about nine years old, Daddy Po did not come for her. He left her in the hands of the city guard of Plenth where she was later handed over to the local girl’s orphanage run by the Sisters of Mariksis, God of Community. Those bitches gave her all sorts of rules and so she ran away as soon as she could. It took several years. She did learn of the temples in Kandair. That gave her a goal. Reena never knew what happened to her father or why he left her behind. She never saw him again, but she made her way on the streets nonetheless using the many pearls of wisdom he taught her. She learned to rely on herself and not to expect anything from anyone. People weren’t trustworthy.
“There. Just like Daddy Po taught me. I followed through. I was planning to do that once we reached Kandair but you made that impossible, Fandingo. It’s really your own fault.” She wiped the blood from her blade onto his robes and then grabbed a handful of rice from the bag he always carried. She stood and hurled it with as much force as she could muster into his fat face leaving red marks. He groaned weakly. “It doesn’t feel very good, does it? Yeah, think about this next time before you go ordering around your hired slaves, you fat bastard!” Reena threw another handful of rice and kicked him once for good measure while Stench was busy tossing monkey bones out of the backpack. That sick little gremlin. He would eat anything.
“Where we go now?” the gremlin asked with a belch. His head poked out from the pack licking his lips and clawed fingertips clean.
“I already told you, but you were asleep, as usual. Some pathetic minstrel offered us a free seat in his wagon. He seems like an easy mark, a real dandy boy. Time for a new caravan. We’re headed back to Sabline next. I guess we’ll bounce around Villinsk a little longer.” She smiled. “Now, show me what you swiped today. I saw a lot of good things go by…”
Stench disappeared into the pack then tossed out several items. The trinkets he stole earlier began to pile up on the silky pillow. There came a colorful, hand-crafted bead bracelet, a trio of pastries one of which was half eaten, two shiny red apples one with a bite out of it and an amulet with the white rose symbol of Dunabar on a cord. She shrugged and slipped the bracelet on her wrist then finished off the half-eaten pastry while shoving the rest back into the pouch with Stench. She reached over and hauled the tiny gremlin from the bag as if holding a baby. The tiny man was barely over a foot tall. He struggled but she squished him into a hug anyway. Stench came to her from the city of Plenth but originated somewhere in Aesa in a city named Sebel. She picked him up while planning her escape from the orphanage. The girl caught the gremlin trying to steal the loaf of bread she stole from a vendor. They formed an instant bond and became a team. Just like her, Stench was an orphan. The only difference was that he knew what became of his family. Ruthless gremlin hunters trapped and drowned them. Larger cities often employed such positions to keep gremlins from running rampant in their streets. They weren’t supposed to kill them, but nobody cared much if they did. The whole idea seemed sick and twisted to Reena. Gremlins were as deserving of a good life as anyone else.
“Uggg… you smell rotten!” Reena let the gremlin go and he leapt back into the bag giggling and shaking his butt at her. A squeak of another wet fart slipped out by accident. “Stench! I always forget how fusty you are, you nasty little turd.” The gremlin continued to laugh. “I guess that’s why I named you Stench after all.”
His voice sounded from inside her pack. “Yep, yep!”
She shouldered her backpack, gave the wagon another glance for anything of use she might want to steal, then headed out to join the minstrel and his new caravan on the road to Sabline. She really hoped this ride would be a little smoother. As she climbed down, she paused and snatched a tiny bag of lavender mixed with sweet grass. It held a nice scent. She tossed it inside her pack. Maybe that would help to counter the awful smells Stench produced. She heard Fandingo groan something, but it was muted with his face pressed into the pillows. Who cared anyway? She shrugged and closed the door tightly so that no random passerby could hear the groaning bastard. It would be a good half day before the man recovered from the drugging. She had plenty of time to slip away into the night.
Thinking of the new caravan she pressed her palms together and looked skyward as if giving a prayer. “Please, no rice