The Parched sea h-1

by Troy Denning

  It was the sheikh who spoke next. Stepping between the two warriors, he said, "No matter what you said, that was wrong of me, Al'Aif. If we start fighting each other, the Zhentarim have taken us already. Nata, take Kadumi and Ruha to her tent. We shall consider this matter again in the morning."

  When neither Al'Aif or Nata moved to obey, Ruha's father snapped, "I have spoken!"

  Reluctantly the warriors relaxed, and the sheikh turned to go. As the crowd parted to let him pass, a strange man moved from the edge of the gathering. He wore a yellow aba with a ragged hole in its breast, and a wide strip had been cut off the hem to make the sling in which the man now carried his right arm. In contrast to his dusty clothes, his face and hands were freshly washed, and he appeared remarkably alert for someone who had so recently suffered a serious wound.

  When none of the astonished Bedine said anything, the man nodded to Ruha. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

  All the widow could reply was, "Where did you go? What are you doing here?"

  "I thought it wiser to spend the night on the mountain," Lander replied, motioning at the craggy slope looming above the camp. "As for the second question, when I saw someone had done away with the Zhentarim, I thought it might be safe to speak with your sheikh."

  "Who is this man?" asked Kadumi, the sheikh, and Al'Aif simultaneously.

  Shaking her head, Ruha turned to her father. "He calls himself Lander, and he has come to warn us about the Zhentarim," she said. "He is their enemy."

  The sheikh raised an eyebrow at her comment. "Is that so?"

  Lander nodded. "As are all the Bedine, whether they know it or not."

  "That shall be for us to decide," the sheikh responded curtly. He pointed at Lander's wound. "How did you come by that?"

  "Zhentarim," Lander said, as if the word explained everything.

  "That Zhentarim?" he asked, pointing at Zarud.

  Lander studied the dead man for an instant, then said, "If that will save Ruha and the boy, then yes."

  Ruha's mouth dropped open at Lander's reply. She didn't know whether to thank him for saving her life or point out that she had dressed his wound before Zarud had been killed.

  Her relief was short-lived. Pointing at the blood crusted around the stranger's bandage, Nata asked, "If you killed the Zhentarim, why is the blood on your wound so old?"

  "A good question, but one that should not be answered tonight," the sheikh said. "Put the stranger with Kadumi and my daughter. We will sort this out in the morning, after our heads have cleared and our tempers have settled."

  As the rest of the tribe returned to their beds, Nata supervised the internment of the prisoners. While his son fetched some rope, the burly warrior took the trio to Ruha's tent. There, he bound their hands in front of their bodies, then tied their feet and carried each one into the tent. Finally he stationed his son at the door as a guard.

  To Ruha's amazement, the berrani laid down on the carpet, as if he were going to sleep. "Don't say anything you don't want overheard," Lander said, closing his eyes. Soon, resting on his uninjured shoulder, he was snoring in great deep roars that would have harried a lion.

  "How can he fall asleep like that?" Kadumi asked, seated with his bound feet stretched straight out in front of him.

  "The berrani is injured," Ruha answered. "He might sleep until morning. We might do well to join him."

  Kadumi shook his head and silently mouthed something about Al'Aif, but Ruha could not make out what he was saying. Shrugging to indicate that she did not understand, she stretched out on her side. "Try to get some sleep, Kadumi. You may not have a chance later."

  The boy nodded, then rolled onto his own side and closed his eyes.

  Through half-closed eyes, Ruha watched Nata's son. By the way he wearily shifted his weight from one foot to another, she could tell he was tired. That was good, for it would make him easier to catch off-guard.

  The guard continued standing as the camp returned to normal. When, at last, the place fell completely quiet and he could be sure his father had gone to bed, the young man sat down at the tent entrance. Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder to check on his prisoners, but his main concern seemed to be watching the camp so he could be sure that his father would not catch him at less than full attention.

  Eventually the glances grew less frequent. Nata's son began to doze fitfully. His head would sink slowly until his chin touched his chest, then bob up and stay upright for a few minutes before slowly descending again. The time soon came when the guard's head did not rise again.

  On her elbows and knees, Ruha crawled to the kuerabiche that Nata's son had found earlier. Taking care not to make any noise, she pulled the contents from the sack and laid them on the floor beside her: her spare aba, her veils, and, finally, Ajaman's jambiya.

  As Ruha unsheathed the dagger, Kadumi's eyes opened and she realized that the boy had not been able to sleep. An instant later, a great smile crossed his face and she feared he would cry out for joy. The widow looked meaningfully toward the door, and the youth nodded that he understood.

  Ruha freed herself first, then crawled to her brother-in-law. As she cut his bonds, she leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Don't move yet."

  Kadumi nodded, then looked toward Lander. "When you cut the berrani free, he may stop snoring."

  Ruha saw the point of the youth's concern immediately. Though the guard had dozed off, it seemed unlikely that he had fallen into a deep sleep. If Lander's snoring suddenly changed rhythm or ceased altogether, the guard might wake suddenly. No doubt he would glance inside the tent and realize something was amiss.

  The only way to keep him from sounding the alarm was for Kadumi to silence the guard before he could reach his amarat. Ruha did not doubt that Kadumi could catch the guard unawares and kill the young warrior, but she did not cherish the idea of Nata hunting her with a blood price in mind.

  As she considered the problem, an alarm horn sounded on the far side of the camp. Several men began shouting. The guard woke immediately and jumped to his feet, crying, "What is it? What's wrong?" Fortunately he sensed the direction of the alarm, and his attention was turned toward the far side of camp.

  Lander's eyes opened, but he continued to snore exactly as he had done since being interned in the tent. Ruha couldn't tell whether he had awakened instantly alert or had been pretending to sleep all the time.

  Lander motioned toward his feet, still maintaining his snore. Taking the hint, Ruha cut the ropes with a quick slice. The berrani jumped to his feet and sprang toward the khreima's entrance as silently as a leopard stalking prey. In an instant, he slipped his bound hands over the guard's head. Pulling backward so that the rope caught the man across the throat, Lander dragged his victim back into the tent.

  The berrani held his right arm pressed tightly against his side to avoid straining his injured shoulder, but the stranglehold still proved effective. Nata's son grasped at the arms looped around his neck and kicked at his attacker to no avail, and Lander controlled him easily.

  Finally reacting to Lander's swift assault, Kadumi leaped to the berrani's side and pulled the man's jambiya from its scabbard.

  "Don't kill him!" Ruha gasped.

  "Never intended to," Lander replied, tightening the choke.

  Kadumi also did as she asked, though he raised his brow at the request. Among the Bedine, ending a man's life was not considered much different than killing any other animal-save that a man's family might try to avenge the death. Ruha feared that Kadumi, as a youth, might not give enough consideration to what this would mean in the case of a son of Nata.

  The guard soon stopped struggling, and his body went limp. Lander quickly tied the guard's hands and feet, then massaged the unconscious boy's chest. In instant later, the guard coughed and resumed breathing. Lander took the boy's keffiyeh and stuffed the scarf into the guard's mouth as a gag, then bound him to a tent pole.

  Kadumi relieved him of his belt, scimitar, and scabbards, then asked, "
What now?"

  Before Ruha could answer, the sound of ripping fabric sounded from the rear of the khreima. The young widow spun around to see the blade of a scimitar slicing through the tent wall. Taking the guard's scimitar from Kadumi, Lander cautious stepped toward the gash, motioning to Kadumi and Ruha to do likewise.

  An instant later, Al'Aif stepped through the hole he had just created. In one hand he held the scimitar that had opened the khreima, and in the other he held his jambiya. When he saw the trio standing unfettered and the unconscious guard bound to the tent pole, he raised an eyebrow and sheathed his dagger. "You were expecting me, I see."

  Lander nodded, but Ruha and Kadumi stared at the scarred warrior with their mouths hanging agape.

  "Come on," Al'Aif said. "Kadumi's camels are watered and packed."

  Ruha refused to move. "You killed Zarud and were ready to let me pay the blood price," she said, fingering her dagger. "Why should I trust you now?"

  "I do what I do for reasons of my own," he answered, meeting her gaze squarely. "I never intended to let Sheikh Sabkhat send you-or anyone else-to the Zhentarim. You can trust me." He turned to the back wall of the tent and spread open the gash he had created, then motioned for Ruha to step through.

  When Ruha still did not move, Lander urged her toward the exit. "We can trust him. For his plan to work, he must help us escape. He killed the Zhentarim to prevent the tribe from allying with the invaders. If we're gone in the morning, the sheikh will have no choice except to flee."

  "Or to fight," Al'Aif said.

  "That would be very foolish," Lander said. "The Zhentarim have a large army and their commanders are sure to be capable."

  The scarred Mtairi shrugged. "Fight or flee. It is the same to me-but never enslavement!" He reached toward Ruha to urge her through the slit, but the widow jerked her arm away and stepped outside before he could touch her.

  Outside, the tasselled silhouettes of several qassis bushes perfumed the air with their stringent aromas. Fifty yards to the west, the bushy shadows of ghaf trees and the tinkle of the stream marked the gulch. On the other side of the tent, Rahalat's dark shape towered high over the moonlit sands, and a heavy sense of impending doom settled over Ruha.

  The others stepped out of the tent, then Al'Aif silently motioned for them to follow him. The scarred warrior led the small group across the gulch, then around the shoulder of the mountain. After perhaps an hour of picking their way past thorny salt-bushes and scrub brush, the scar-faced warrior stopped at the edge of a small draw. In the bottom of the dry wadi were the milky silhouettes of Kadumi's camels and the darker outline of his brown gelding. The gelding and two of the white camels were fitted with saddles, while the remaining beasts were loaded with baggage.

  Kadumi pointed at the third saddle. "That doesn't belong to me," he said. At El Ma'ra, he and Ruha had outfitted their beasts from the possessions of the dead tribesman, but they had only needed two saddles and had not thought to pick up an extra one.

  Al'Aif laid a hand on the youth's shoulder. "Consider it a gift from one warrior to another."

  Kadumi smiled at the older man. "Thank you, Al'Aif. Some day, I shall repay you a dozenfold."

  "When you are the sheikh of the reborn Qahtan, no doubt," the scar-faced warrior said, giving Ruha a salacious glance. He turned to Lander. "Find someplace to hide until morning. The Zhentarim have sent spies to watch us, and they are lurking about in the sands. You will find it easier to find their trails and avoid their hiding places during the day."

  The berrani nodded. "Sound advice."

  "Go with the favor of Kozah, berrani," Al'Aif said, turning back toward camp. "You shall need it."

  "My thanks for our rescue."

  "No need to thank me." The scar-faced warrior did not look back. "If I had known you were doing so well on your own, I would not have bothered."

  The trio descended into the wadi and inspected Kadumi's animals. Their humps were firm from a day of good grazing, and their bellies were bloated with a fresh watering. The baggage camels were loaded with full waterskins, a khreima, and kuerabiches filled with dried fruits, meats, and extra clothes. There were even two scimitars, a pair of bows with two fulls quivers, and an extra jambiya.

  After he had finished his inspection, Lander said, "It appears Al'Aif is truly anxious to be rid of us. We have everything we need for a long journey."

  "He is truly a generous man," Ruha commented cynically. "But where are we going?"

  Taking the three heavy cloaks off a baggage camel, Lander said, "That depends upon what your tribe does and where the Zhentarim go, at least for me."

  "Why?" Ruha asked. "What are the Zhentarim to you?"

  Draping a cloak over her shoulders, the berrani said, "The Zhentarim are evil, rapacious, and they intend to enslave the peoples of the desert. I have come to help the Bedine defeat them."

  "How?" Kadumi asked. "If an entire tribe cannot defeat them, what can you do?"

  Lander regarded the boy with an even, honest expression. "I don't know yet."

  Kadumi shrugged. "Well, they are our enemies also. We may as well ride together-for a time, at least."

  The youth began to untether the camels. Lander joined him, leaving Ruha to wonder what the stranger really wanted from the Bedine.

  Once they had checked the saddles and strung the baggage camels into a caravan line, Lander led the trio up the wadi. When the dry ravine ended, they dismounted and ascended onto the breezy shoulder of Rahalat.

  Ruha envied the grace with which the berrani led the way over the broken ground, for she found the going hard on the steep terrain-especially since, as a woman, it was her duty to lead the baggage string. Several times she almost turned an ankle, and once she lost her balance as they topped a twenty-foot cliff.

  As she crossed a rocky spine running between a pair of thirty-foot precipices, Ruha decided that it might be best for Kadumi to lead the baggage camels. Before she could speak, the hollow knell of a goat bell sounded behind her. Her first thought was that the animal making the sound belonged to the Zhentarim, for the Mtair Dhafir kept no goats. Bringing the incantation for a wind wall to mind, she spun around ready to cast the spell and push her enemies off the mountain.

  There was no one behind her. Without turning around, she asked, "Lander, Kadumi, did you hear anything?"

  "Yes, down there," Lander replied.

  "No, over here," Kadumi countered.

  Ruha turned and saw Lander peering off of one side of the spine and Kadumi off of the other. The bell sounded again, and this time she realized it came from inside her head.

  The widow's companions realized the same thing. Kadumi blanched and covered his ears with his hands, while Lander simply shook his head, vainly trying to clear it.

  "Rahalat!" Kadumi gasped.

  The youth began tugging on his camel reins, trying to turn his gelding around and start down. When the confused beast looked over the precipices to either side of it, it would not move. Lander grasped the boy's shoulder. "What's Rahalat?"

  "The mountain spirit," Ruha explained.

  "She does not want us here," Kadumi added, still trying to turn his camels around.

  "A ghost?" inquired Lander.

  Ruha shook her head. "A goddess."

  "Rahalat was a shunned woman," Kadumi explained. "Her khowwan abandoned her here, and she claimed the oasis as her home. She was very bitter and used her magic to prevent any tribe from grazing here."

  The bells sounded again, but this time they seemed to come from all sides. Kadumi dropped the camel reins and started down the mountain, abandoning the confused beasts.

  "During a drought, the Dakawa murdered her," Ruha continued, not attempting to stop her brother-in-law. "According to legend, the spring turned to blood. For the next ten years, anything that drank from it perished. Now, every tribe that camps at Rahalat must sacrifice a camel to the mountain goddess or the water goes bad."

  Looking after Kadumi, Lander said, "We can't go back. When
the sheikh hears we're missing, he'll search everywhere for us."

  A terrible clatter sounded from above, and the air filled with the bleating of goats. A moment later, a herd of several dozen of the beasts materialized from the boulders on the slope above the rocky spine, then started moving down the mountain. The camels began backing away nervously, their footing coming precariously close to the cliffs to either side.

  Kadumi called, "Come with me, you fools, or you will be driven off the cliffs with my camels!"

  "We can't abandon the camels," Lander said to Ruha. "Without them, we're dead."

  "And if we stay, we are also dead," Ruha answered, watching Kadumi descend the mountain. The widow did not blame him for leaving.

  Lander was not intimidated, though. He started toward the goats, waving his arms and crying, "Go back to where you came from! Get out of here!"

  Kadumi's brown gelding tried to turn and flee, then slipped and lost its footing. With a terrified bellow, it plunged off the cliff on the backside of the mountain, its body bouncing off the rocks with a series of muffled thuds.

  Ruha realized that, whether or not he was a fool to challenge Rahalat, Lander was right about one thing: they could not afford to lose their camels. She waved her hand at the top of the rocky spine, at the same time whispering the incantation she had brought to mind earlier.

  The breeze shifted, then whistled as it wove itself into an impenetrable wall in the spot she had chosen. The goats stumbled into the invisible barrier, then began to batter it with their horns or try to climb over.

  Lander turned and stared at Ruha with an astonished expression. "Did you do that?"

  "No," she said, speaking the lie automatically. It did not even cross her mind that Lander might not be offended by her use of magic. Ruha handed the reins to the baggage camel to the confused berrani. "Hold these. I'll go to the back of the line and see if I can coax them down backward."

  As she worked her way past the apprehensive camels, the bleating of the goats and the knelling of their bells faded.