The Parched sea h-1

by Troy Denning

  "That's no djinn, it's Bhadla!" Lander corrected. He reached for his sword and stepped toward Kabina. "I recognize the man's yelp. He must be spying on us for the Zhentarim!"

  Utaiba intercepted the Harper. "The spy was intruding on our council," the sheikh said. "You must leave this to us." He turned to the warriors. "You men, find the intruder!"

  The warriors drew their scimitars and began waving them through the air in tentative, uncertain slashes. Their brows were arched in skeptical, worried expressions.

  "If this is a D'tarig and not a djinn, why can't we see him?" Sa'ar asked, echoing the concerns in the hearts of all his men.

  Lander looked into the sheikh's eyes and said one word, "Magic."

  Within a few moments, it became apparent that the warriors were not going to locate the invisible spy by slashing randomly through the air. Lander turned to Ruha. "Bhadla's probably gone by now, but do you have any spells that will reveal his location?"

  Utaiba did not allow the widow to reply. "No magic," he ordered. "You have not crossed the Shoal of Thirst yet."

  The search continued for a few minutes more before Kabina located the spy's tracks and led the warriors off to stalk him. Ruha did not think they had much chance for success, for the D'tarig had a good headstart and it would be difficult to trail him when he reached a patch of rocky ground.

  "Do you think he heard our plans?" she asked Lander.

  The Harper nodded. "We have to assume he did."

  "I would not worry," Sa'ar said. "The Zhentarim will find it no easier to cross the Shoal of Thirst than you. If they try to follow, they will meet a slow and terrible death." He paused and gave Ruha a mocking grin. "Unless, of course, it is the gods' will that they catch you."

  "And what of your council?" Lander asked. "If Bhadla heard where it is to be held, the Zhentarim will be sure to go there."

  "I doubt anyone who is not Bedine knows of Elah'zad," Utaiba answered. "The oasis is well hidden, and that is why we picked it. Even if the spy knows Elah'zad, there is little we can do. The messengers have already been sent. Trying to change the site would only result in hopeless confusion."

  Sa'ar nodded his agreement. "The best thing that we can do is leave this place quickly. Once the spy reports to his masters, they will realize how few we are and may try to attack." The stout sheikh turned to Kadumi and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You may ride with my tribe. We always have use for a sharp sword."

  The youth shook his head, saying, "I will go with my sister-in-law and the berrani."

  Ruha turned to the boy. "You have been wounded, and I am not what your brother thought I was when he married me," she said. "Under the circumstances, I do not think that family honor dictates you protect me any longer."

  "This has nothing to do with family honor," Kadumi answered. "You and Lander saved my life last night, and you will need me and my camels in the shoal."

  "I'm sure we'll manage," the widow said. "An extra person will only-"

  "Let the boy come if he likes. It's his choice," Lander said, grinning at the young warrior. "Besides, he's right. Somebody's going to have to take care of me."

  Kadumi smiled at the Harper's joke, then turned to Ruha and asked, "Do you really think we can cross the Shoal of Thirst?"

  "I've already crossed it," Ruha said. "After leaving the Sister of Rains two years ago, this is the first oasis I came to."

  The widow did not add that her camels had been freshly watered and grazed before she had ventured into the Shoal of Thirst the first time, or that they had all died, leaving her to walk the last ten miles on foot.

  Thirteen

  Ruha could not stop thinking about the extra waterskins. Perhaps the mouths weren't tied properly, she worried. Perhaps one has developed a friction hole. Despite her anxiety, the witch resisted the temptation to stop the small caravan and inspect the skins. She had already done so twice that day and knew her fears to be unwarranted. Her preoccupation was caused more by her thirst than by valid concerns.

  Though five days had passed since parting from the Mahwa and Raz'hadi, it had only been four days since she and her companions had descended into the Shoal of Thirst. The great basin stretched for miles in all directions, as flat as a pan and as endless as the sky. Gleaming salts covered the entire valley, making it seem as though the trio was riding across a cloud. Ruha's eyes ached from the constant sting of salt, and her throat was clogged with mordant-tasting grit.

  Ruha tried not to think about the two days of travel remaining before she and her companions reached the Sister of Rains. She also tried to forget that as soon as they arrived, they would have to turn around and spend another three days in the northern tip of the Shoal of Thirst in order to reach Elah'zad in time to help the tribes gathered there.

  Instead Ruha focused her thoughts a few hours ahead. At'ar hung only three spans above the horizon, an orange disc without heat or brilliance. Dusk was slowly approaching, and after it fell, the trio would ride for perhaps two more hours. When the camels began to snort and groan with exhaustion, the trio would stop and wash the salt from their parched throats with warm milk. No one would drink any water, for they were saving it for their mounts. During the crossing, the camel's milk would serve as both food and water.

  Lander suddenly stopped and turned around, inspecting the salt-crusted ground behind him with one bloodshot, red-rimmed eye. Although the day was still hot, he wore his jellaba over his shoulders. The heavy cloak trapped a layer of clammy air next to the body, keeping the wearer from dehydrating so quickly. Unlike Ruha and Kadumi, though, Lander did not wear his jellaba wrapped tightly around himself. It hung loose and open at the throat, allowing precious body moisture to escape.

  Ruha dutifully stopped the haggard string of camels. Although there had been no sign of Zhentarim pursuers for two days, the Harper continued to search the horizon at irregular intervals.

  "There! Look!" Lander said, pointing. His lips were so dry and chapped that they cracked and bled when he spoke.

  The witch obediently turned her mount around and stared to the east. She saw nothing but the darkening horizon. "What?"

  "Something's following us," he insisted.

  Kadumi joined the pair, stopping on the other side of Lander. The youth's eyes were bloodshot, but rimmed with far less red than the Harper's. "Where?" the boy asked.

  Lander adjusted the direction in which his finger was pointing. "Right there. It's just a shadow."

  Kadumi peered at the horizon for a minute, then glanced at Ruha and shook his head.

  The young widow took a few moments to search the horizon herself. "There's nothing there, Lander," she said at last.

  He nodded. "It's gone now, but we'll have to be careful."

  The widow shook her head sadly. Lander had been saying the same thing all day, apparently fearing the Zhentarim were still following. Ruha and Kadumi did not discount the possibility entirely, but they both thought it more likely that the invaders had turned back two days ago. The Shoal of Thirst was so scorching that most Bedine could not survive a journey across it, so it seemed impossible that the water-loving Zhentarim could endure such a punishing journey.

  To Ruha it appeared more likely that Lander was suffering from a delirium. The combination of heat and thirst were making him imagine things. The widow forced her camel to kneel, then removed a waterskin from one of the milk-camels. She opened the skin's mouth and walked to Lander's side.

  "Drink," she said. "You're seeing phantoms."

  "I'm not seeing things. Somebody is following us," the Harper insisted. Nevertheless he accepted the waterskin, then looked from Ruha to Kadumi. "Are you and Ruha drinking?"

  The youth shook his head. "We're not thirsty," he said. Despite what he told Lander, he could not take his eyes off the waterskin. "There is plenty of water, though. Drink."

  "If we have plenty of water, there's no harm in you and Ruha drinking with me," Lander countered, holding the waterskin toward the boy.

  "We'l
l have milk tonight," Kadumi said. "Bedine prefer camel's milk to water."

  The Harper snorted. "Nobody prefers camel's milk to water." He turned to Ruha and leaned down to offer her the water. A spoonful of the contents spilled out of the mouth and trickled down the side.

  "Be careful! "Ruha said.

  The Harper smiled. "I think Kadumi is not telling the truth." He tied the waterskin's mouth, then held it toward Ruha.

  "You must drink," she said, not accepting the skin. "You're growing delirious."

  The Harper shook his head, then licked the blood from his chapped lips. "I may be thirsty," he said, "but I'm not imagining things." When she did not take the water, Lander said, "This skin is heavy. I'm about to drop it."

  "You are a stubborn fool," Ruha said, accepting the waterskin. Nodding at the open throat of Lander's cloak, she added, "Are you trying to kill yourself? Close your jellaba."

  The widow returned the waterskin to the back of the haggard milk-camel, then mounted her beast again. The trio turned their camels into the setting sun and resumed their trek. This time, they rode three abreast, Lander between Ruha and Kadumi, where they could keep a watchful eye on him.

  As they rode, the Harper periodically twisted around in his saddle and stared at their backtrail. Ruha did likewise, just in case Lander was not imagining things and they really were being followed. She did not see any Zhentarim, but the widow did notice that the milk-camels were beginning to stumble, a sure sign that they were dehydrated. This came as no surprise to her. Under good summer conditions, a camel could go for two weeks without drinking.

  Crossing the Shoal of Thirst could hardly be considered good conditions, and the trio was pressing their beasts hard. The white glare of the endless flat made At'ar's heat even more unbearable. To make matters worse, the salt prevented plants from growing in the basin, and when camels could not eat, they had to drink.

  Finally Kadumi could stand the twisting and squirming no longer. As Lander pivoted to stare at the backtrail for perhaps the twentieth time, the youth asked, "Have you seen anything yet?"

  The Harper shook his head. "Not since we stopped."

  Kadumi sighed in relief. "At least your delirium is not constant."

  "I'm not delirious," the Harper responded patiently.

  "And how would you know?" Ruha asked. "An incoherent man cannot tell a mirage from an oasis until he tries to drink from it."

  "This is no mirage."

  Kadumi groaned and shook his head, then the riders continued in silence. Ruha was glad that the youth had insisted upon coming along. After being rescued by her and the Harper during the Battle of the Chasm, the boy had matured a great deal, and he was proving a real asset on this journey. He was an excellent desert traveler, but more than that, his competence and steadfast attitude were a comfort to Ruha whenever Lander's delirium began to worry her.

  At'ar fell to within a span of the horizon, and her disc vanished into the yellow, cloudless sky. Air currents began to eddy around the riders, whipping their faces with invisible salt grains borne on warm, withering winds. Ruha's eyes started watering, and she envied Lander the patch that protected his bad eye.

  "I hope your spellbook is worth this," Kadumi said. He pulled his keffiyeh off his head and wrapped it around his face like a woman's veil.

  It was Lander who responded. "Any magic is worth-"

  The roar of a camel interrupted the Harper. Immediately Ruha stopped the string and spun around in her saddle. The second camel in line was collapsing to its front knees, its eyes rolled back in their sockets.

  "Kadumi!" she called, leaping from her camel.

  "What's wrong?" Lander asked, staring at the dying camel.

  Ruha did not answer as she ran.

  The widow could not move fast enough. The haggard beast rolled over onto its side, bursting one of the water skins it carried.

  "No!" Ruha grabbed the halter and tried to pull the camel back to its knees, but its sinewy neck had already fallen limp. The widow gave up on the dead beast and stepped around to its back. There was a slight depression where the water had dissolved some salt, and a dark stain was spreading out from beneath the beast as the ground absorbed the spill. Otherwise, not a sign remained of the four gallons of water they had lost.

  Ruha grabbed the collapsed skin and tried to pull it from beneath the camel, hoping it still contained a few cups of water. Kadumi moved to her side and lifted the dead camel's back enough for the widow to withdraw the skin. There was perhaps two quarts of water remaining in the bottom.

  Lander joined them a moment later. "What happened?" he asked, eyeing the dead camel.

  "Exhaustion," Ruha explained. She handed him the waterskin. "Drink." It was a command, not a suggestion.

  The Harper accepted the skin and carefully lifted it to his lips.

  "It's time," Kadumi said, removing the waterskins from the side of the camel that had not fallen to the ground.

  "We'll stop here for the night."

  Ruha ran an appraising eye over the other four haggard beasts. They all stood on wobbling knees, their flank and shoulder muscles quivering.

  "We can go no farther," the witch agreed.

  Lander took the waterskin away from his lips and passed it to Ruha. "Time for what?" he asked.

  "You'll see," Kadumi explained, moving to the head of the line. "Help me unload the camels."

  While Kadumi and Lander unloaded the first camel, Ruha allowed herself a few swallows from the skin. The water was awful stuff, hot and stinking of its container, but it refreshed her regardless of the taste. When she judged she had drunk about a quarter of its contents, she passed the skin to Kadumi and helped Lander unload the other camels.

  After they had stacked their nine remaining waterskins together, Kadumi milked each of the live camels. He extracted less than a gallon, but Ruha was grateful to have that much. Exhausted camels did not produce much milk.

  As Ruha laid out their beds, Lander eyed the meager bucket of milk. "You and Kadumi have the milk tonight," he said. "I'm not hungry."

  "You're a terrible liar," Ruha observed. "But don't worry. There will be more."

  Lander raised an eyebrow. "There will?"

  "Of course," Kadumi answered, picking up the waterskin they had salvaged from the collapsed camel. "Tonight, we shall have a feast."

  The Harper grimaced.

  "What's wrong?" Ruha asked.

  "I'm not sure that I'd call any meal in this desert a feast."

  "Perhaps we shouldn't call it a feast," Kadumi admitted. "Still, our bellies will be full."

  He went to the string of milk camels, then selected the three weakest and led them away.

  "Where's he going?" Lander asked.

  "Those camels are too weak to continue," Ruha answered.

  "So what's he going to do?"

  "Kill them," Ruha answered, surprised at the Harper's foolish question. "Help me water the others."

  She went to Kadumi's mount and removed a large skin bucket, then was surprised to see that the Harper had not followed her. Instead, Lander was staring after Kadumi with a dismayed expression. Leading Kadumi's camel toward the stack of waterskins, she said, "Lander, hold the other camels. I don't want to get trampled when I start watering."

  Ruha allowed each beast to drink two full skins, a total of about eight gallons per animal. For a camel, it wasn't much water, but she hoped it would be enough to get them to the Sister of Rains. The last skin of water she saved for herself and her companions. Without milk, they would need plenty of water over the next two days.

  Kadumi returned just as dusk fell. The rich odor of blood clung to him, and he carried a full waterskin over his shoulder. Ruha poured the milk into the same bucket from which she had watered the camels, then took the warm waterskin from Kadumi and also poured its dark contents into the bucket.

  Lander regarded the whole operation with an expression of disgust on his face. "Is that what I think it is?"

  "Blood and milk," Ruha con
firmed.

  She scraped a handful of salt off the ground and crumbled it into the concoction, then used her jambiya to mix it all together. When she was satisfied with its consistency, she dipped Kadumi's bakia into the bucket and handed the wooden cup to him, then did the same for Lander.

  Kadumi drained the cup in a single swallow, then smacked his lips. "Still warm."

  "You must be mad," Lander said, pouring his back into the bucket. "What's wrong with a little camel meat?"

  Ruha snatched his cup from his hand and refilled it. "Eating meat makes you thirsty for days," she snapped. "Drink this-you won't get much else."

  When she thrust the cup back at him, the Harper stared at it in disgust.

  "What's wrong?" Kadumi demanded, passing his cup back to the widow. "This is good."

  Lander glared at the boy for several moments, then lifted the cup to his lips and drank it down in one long gulp. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and pushed the cup back at Ruha. "Another," he said, struggling to keep from retching.

  "That's more like a Harper," the widow said, smiling beneath her veil.

  Lander and Kadumi managed to drink four more cups before the Harper began to look as though he would be ill. When they gave their bakias to Ruha for a fifth refill, she said, "I think you've had enough. If you vomit, it'll take half a skin of water to replace the fluids you lose."

  "Bless you, Ruha," Lander gasped, turning toward his bed. "I'll take the second watch-I hope." He collapsed onto his side and lay there in a fetal position.

  The following morning, there were clouds in the sky. They were high, ashen things that hid At'ar's face, but did little to lessen her fervor. If anything, the heat seemed thicker and more acute.

  The trio broke camp quickly then resumed their journey, Lander still pausing at odd intervals to search their back trail. The trio passed the morning in weary silence, the overcast day providing relief from At'ar's glare but not from her heat. The scenery never changed. The basin stretched on endlessly, its tablelike surface shimmering pearl-gray in the overcast light. The flat, gray-white terrain did not vary even a foot in elevation, and Ruha felt as though she were riding across an immense cooking pan. The sky remained drab and ashen, the bands of silvery light streaking the clouds the only variation in the monotonous panorama.