D & D - Red Sands (9 page)

"Calm yourself, Master Thief. You've gained no lasting hurt," said Jadira.

"No lasting—! You may love breathing sand, you desert wench, but Nabul
gan
Zeliriya does not! I'm going back! Nothing the soldiers do to me could be as bad as this!"

"You can't go back to the city. You would be killed on sight."

"Maybe I wasn't identified. Have you ever considered that, clever woman? And even if I were captured, I'd explain what happened—"

"Of course you will. I hear the grand vizier is a very sympathetic fellow," Tamakh said.

Nabul smote the dirt with his fists. "It's not just! Why did the god of thieves steer you across my path? I never asked for much from life: a cup of wine, a bowl of dates, a fat merchant to pluck now and then. . . . What evil curse brought us together?"

"Who can know the minds of the gods?" said

Tamakh. "It remains for us mortals to accept our fate and live our lives within the patterns set for us. To contemplate otherwise is to court madness."

"The Holy One speaks wisely, though I would add that tyranny is not to be borne. The whole man is one who is free," said Jadira.

"Don't forget duty and honor," put in Marix.

Nabul scratched sand from his patchy beard. "You're all mad," he said. "Your mad beliefs will be the death of us all."

Jadira offered the thief her hand. Nabul glared at it. "Take it," she said. "Take it and go on with us to Julli. Once there, if you can find a caravan to Rehajid or Zimora, then part in peace."

His mouth was too dry to spit. The practical Nabul grasped her hand.

As Jadira promised, night in the deep desert grew colder with each passing hour. As stars thickened to a dense canopy overhead, Tamakh took a reading of their position. He lay flat on his back, aligning his feet to the north star. That way he was able to tell which way was north-by-west.

Jadira rested her head on her knees. She drew the trailing part of her robe close around her legs and shivered. Next thing she knew, Marix sat down beside her, draping his Faziri cloak around her shoulders.

"No," she said. "\ou need this yourself."

Through blue lips he bluffed, "I am used to chill. In Dosen we have snow for six turnings of the moon each year." He shivered and feigned a chuckle to cover it.

"What is snow?"

"Snow is, uh, very cold rain. So cold it is white and solid."

"You sport with me. Water is not solid."

Marix put a hand on his heart. "By my ancestors, I swear I speak the truth."

A sharp breeze whisked the cloak from Jadira's shoulders. He replaced it, letting his arm linger across her back. While Tamakh explained the desert sky to Uramettu and Nabul stamped his feet to keep them warm, Jadira leaned her head on Marix's shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

The thief roused her a short time later. "The priest says we should go."

Marix yawned. "Is there any water?" he asked.

"Not a single drop. And the horse is making odd sounds."

The horse was standing with its knees together. Dry grunts puffed out its open mouth. Jadira lifted the beast's head and pried its teeth apart.

"This is not good; the tongue is swollen. If we don't find water soon, the horse will die," she said.

Marix cajoled everyone into line again. In spite of the hardship, he was in good spirits. Now that the imminent dangers of the city were behind him, he had begun to enjoy this new adventure.

He hummed a marching song, punctuating the beat by striking the ground smartly with the heels of his boots. His pace proved too much for Tamakh, who dropped back with Nabul.

Marix marched in place four beats and fell in beside Jadira. She smiled at his martial air.

"What is that song?" she said.

"This? 'The Company of Bren.' It's about a free company of men-at-arms who worked in the Eight Provinces in the time of King Barrus II."

"I didn't realize you were a soldier."

"Oh, aye. All noblemen's sons learn arms," he replied. "My eldest brother, who will be count one day, is a battle captain to Prince Lydon, and my middle brother is a knight."

"And what have you been trained for?"

"I was to be a man-at-arms, had I reached Lord Hurgold as planned."

Jadira lowered her voice. "When we find Prince Lydon's seal, Lord Hurgold will make you a knight."

His face shone. "Do you think so? I—"

" AAIII!" The thief was shouting. Where the fine, dry sand had given way to crumbling shale, the ailing horse had stumbled in the loose rock and was down.

"Get him up," Uramettu was saying. "Once down, they quickly die!"

Nabul tugged on the bridle. "Stand, you wretched animal! Don't you dare die!"

Tamakh came over. His ragged sandals had been cut to shreds by the rocks. "Will it be all right?" It was then Jadira noticed how drawn his formerly sleek face had grown.

The horse kicked feebly. Uramettu said to Tamakh, "Can you do something?"

"I have no knowledge of horses," he said sadly, shaking his head.

It was soon over. The poor beast gave its last gasp and was still. The five stood around it, saying nothing for a long time.

"This is the fate that faces us all," Nabul pronounced.

"When we get to Julli—"

The thief howled and grabbed for Jadira's throat. She clawed at his face and hands, and Marix wrenched

Nabul's arms back.

"We'll never get to the oasis'" Nabul cried. "It doesn't exist! We're going to wander around out here until the sun bakes us into hard red bricks! How will you lead a band of bricks, O wise desert-dweller?"

Jadira bent over slowly and scooped up a handful of pebbles, which she flung at Nabul. "Rocks, you alley-rat! Do you know what that means? Where there are rocks in the desert, there is water. Julli is near, I tell you!" she exclaimed.

"We could have walked past it in the dark and never known it!"

Uramettu put a strong hand on Jadira's arm and said, "He's right. He may be an uncouth scoundrel, but he is right. Now that the horse is dead, do we have any chance at all to reach this oasis?"

Before Jadira could answer, the eastern horizon flashed red. "False dawn," the nomad woman said. "Only one notch of darkness left. I will make you all a bargain: I will scout ahead for signs of Julli. If I am not back by sunrise ..." She finished the offer with a shrug. "Let everyone thereafter fend for himself."

Jadira knelt to unhook the empty waterskins from the dead horse's saddle.

"I'm coming with you," Marix said.

"No." She stood and looped the handles of the waterskins around her own neck. Looking into his concerned, pale eyes, she smiled and said, "I'll be back."

She started off in the presumed direction. Uramettu came after her. "I will go with you. I can. smell water a league away."

Jadira shook her head. "I must do this alone." Softly she added, "You must keep them together, Uramettu. Men have no heads for journeying."

"As you wish, my sister. Ronta go with you and guide your steps."

The rocks made the way treacherous. Twice Jadira slipped on the uneven surface and scored her hands and knees on sharp stones. At the top of a low hill, she turned and looked back. Tamakh's white robe stood out in the blue-black night. She waved. Jadira could not see if anyone returned the gesture.

She walked northwest, always keeping the star Qalax dead in front of her. Tamakh had assured her this would keep her on a straight course.

The hillocks flattened, but the soil remained stony. By the time Jadira had walked half a notch, the eastern sky was lightening. She hurried her aching legs on. But fear and need tangled her normally quick limbs, and she fell heavily on her face.

Jadira knew she had failed. They were lost, lost in the vast Red Sands, and they would die. Her vaunted Sudiin heritage had not helped them a bit. And the worst thing was that that whining, city-soft thief would be right.

She unclenched her burning eyelids and caught a single cold tear on her fingertips. One drop of water. One lone salty drop.

She stared at the tear . . . and saw
moss on the stones.

Jadira picked up a rock that was spotted with gray-green moss and pressed it to her heart as if it were finest gold. Moss meant water! Somewhere near, there was water!

Her long shadow reached out four paces ahead of her as she stood. The last breaths of night wind brought her a scent she knew well.

"Water," she said aloud. "Water and camels." She hurried on, racing with her giant shadow. She ran, feet lifting off the stony ground with the ease of one reborn.

The jingle of brass on camel harnesses, the bawl of contrary animals rose out of the ground. Jadira ran right to the edge of a sharp drop-off. From there, the copper-colored desert turned green—green as far as her parched eyes could see.

The disc of the sun lifted from its purple bed of sleep and shone brightly onjulli Oasis and Jadira
sed
Ifrimiya.

Julli

The fugitives sat on a rise at the edge of the oasis and looked over their destination. "Any sign of Faziri soldiers?" asked Marix.

"No obvious ones." Tamakh shaded h is eyes and looked around. "I had no idea the place was so large. One, two, three wells, and a lake? It looks like a town with caravans and tents—and
so many
people! I imagined a muddy pool and a stand of palms."

"Oh, no. Julli is famous for its water and abundant fodder," said Jadira. "In olden times, it was the custom of each caravan to plant a tree or bush here when they arrived. After a century, the practice had to stop; there wasn't enough land to support so many plants."

"What does 'Julli' mean in your language?" asked Uramettu.

Jadira swept her arm around the ridge. "Do you see how the entire oasis is sited in this sunken area? 'Julli' means 'navel'."

"Enough prattle," said Nabul. "I'm going down there!" For once there was no dissension.

Being ragged, dirty, and on foot, they gathered a few curious stares, but no one challenged them. The crowds were thickest around the wells, so they went straight to the bean-shaped lake. Camels and horses looked on stolidly as, one by one, the fugitives threw themselves into the water.

"Have you ever tasted anything so wonderful?" exulted Marix. Jadira laughed and ducked him. He came up spouting and returned the favor. Tamakh waded in knee-deep and sat down. His toga floated out across the surface, making him look like a dirty white water lily.

Uramettu went in only shin-deep. She splashed her arms and face, then returned to the shore to watch the others sport. Marix and Jadira joined her after thoroughly soaking themselves and feeling their parched skin begin to breathe again.

"Where's Nabul?" Marix said, shaking himself like a foxhound.

"Filling his belly, no doubt, or searching for someone to rob," Jadira said. She pulled her sodden, cloth-wrapped hair over her shoulder and began wringing the water out of it.

"I saw him near the camels wearing the black harness fringe," Uramettu noted.

"Zimoran traders," Jadira said. "Most likely bound for Rehajid. Nabul must be trying to talk his way into the caravan."

"Good luck and good riddance," said Marix fervently.

A concerted cry of
"Hai-ai-ai!"
rang across the oasis. A band of men on horseback, wearing red and white burnooses, galloped past the lake. Jadira chewed her lip as she watched them ride up to one of the wells.

"Do you know them?" said Marix.

"Fellow nomads," she said. "The Aqir tribe. 1 know

their chief."

"Would he help us?"

Jadira hastily arranged her headdress and pulled the damp trailing end of her robe between her legs and tucked it into the sash around her waist. "Stay here," she said to her friends.

The Aqir riders were clustered around the Well of Hearts. There, another group of nomads, coarsely bearded men with metal gorgets around their throats, waited for their turn at the water. These were the Bershak. They were not known to be friends of the Sudiin.

Jadira slipped between the Aqir ponies until she reached the stone-walled well. A squat, one-eyed man, his face tanned to the color and texture of old leather, stood on the wall drinking from an elaborate silver cup.

"Hail, Yali Mit'ai!" said Jadira eagerly.

The cup swung down, and a single yellowed eye fixed on her. Keen intelligence showed behind that ancient orb.

"Who are you, woman, and why do you accost me like a bead-seller?" said Yali Mit'ai sternly.

"Forgive me, Yali." She touched her forehead in the gesture of respect. "I am Jadira, daughter of Ifrim, Sudiin of Sudiin."

The Yali of Aqir jumped down from the wall. He was half a body shorter than Jadira, and a whole body wider. It was said that Mit'ai had some dwarvish blood.

"Sudiin, eh?" he said. "When I was at Topoktoroci, I saw none of the Sudiin. Since then, I have heard that the sultan's men had killed or enslaved them all."