by Indi Martin
“Kadatheron is a bit closer, but yeah, you could get there by land. Either way you have to go through Gak,” responded Toma slowly, his eyes glazed and tracing in the air with his finger as though he were viewing the map.
“Great. So I guess we’re going to Gak,” replied Morgan with a smile.
Toma pulled a face. “I’m never going to be able to walk straight again after this adventure.”
“Horses aren’t that bad,” said Morgan, though his lower back twinged in disagreement.
“I hope my child is alive and well, because I probably won’t be able to bear more,” joked Toma, but the joke drew a shadow across his eyes and he cast his gaze down.
Morgan could see the homesickness in the giant’s face and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’d never think less of you if you went home, Toma,” said Morgan gently.
“I would,” replied Toma, and that was the end of it.
57
Agni chomped on an apple as they walked the path out of Beersheba, his long gait relaxed and easy. Though he still wore his armor, his entire demeanor was different, almost friendly. Almost, thought Gina, but not quite. His sharp, chiseled features were a little too predatory for that.
“You seem tense, Dreamer,” murmured Kyrri, and she shrugged in response.
“Do you speak Cat, milady?” Agni asked Gina, watching Kyrri with interest.
Kyrri scowled at him.
“I understand some,” admitted Gina, realizing it would be too difficult to not respond to Kyrri for the entire trip. She had to admit to herself that his constant use of “milady” did loosen some of the tension in her shoulders.
“That’s rare, from what I’ve heard,” he commented, throwing his apple core into the bushes alongside the path. “Rarer still for an Easterner.”
“You said you’ve been to Ulthar?” asked Gina.
“I have, but only once, and several years ago. A beautiful city.”
“Why were you there?” she asked. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a vacation.”
Agni smiled, a toothy grin that didn’t seem at home on his torn-up face. “No, it wasn’t a vacation.” He offered no additional information, and they walked in silence until they were outside of the city gates and walking past the farms and fields in the outskirts. Kyrri was in good spirits, chasing down a butterfly and bounding down the trail with more energy than Gina thought possible.
There’s that wide-eyed kit I met, she thought, smiling softly.
“So how intelligent are they, really?” whispered Agni when Kyrri bounced far enough up the trail. “I was told they were about as smart as a kid.”
“Very,” she said, taken aback by the correlation. “They have their own histories and libraries. They’re just as smart as us.”
“Really,” Agni sounded less than sure as he watched Kyrri pounce on a hapless insect in the trailside grass. “Huh.”
“He’s still young,” she explained defensively. “And they are still cats. Plus, you being here probably makes him feel a little less like he’s solely responsible for my safety.” She smiled as he leapt out of the bushes and back onto the trail, picking plant matter off of his armor. “It’s good to see him play again.”
Agni didn’t immediately respond, and Gina looked over to see him deep in thought. “Why would he be responsible for your safety?” asked the blonde man slowly.
“He’s not,” answered Gina quickly. “He just feels like he is sometimes.”
“Why are you two traveling together in the first place? He had to cross on a boat to get here, yes? I thought Cats never left the western shores.”
She found herself walking faster, irritated with herself for sharing so much information, and forced her pace to slow again. “Well, this one did. He got very sick on the boat,” she said, wincing at the memory. “But he’s a braver Cat than most.” The kind face of Hammer frozen in his final, bloody moment drifted to the front of her mind and she grimaced. She wrung her hands, feeling them prickle as though the dried blood were still flaking off of them.
Agni was watching her closely as they walked, peering at her as he might a curious object he picked up along the trail. “I take it that it hasn’t been an easy journey,” he commented in a soft voice.
Gina bit her lip and glanced up the trail at Kyrri, who was trotting back to them. “No,” she said. “It hasn’t.”
“It would help me know what I’m looking for if I knew more,” he reasoned. “I can’t keep you safe if I don’t understand the danger.”
The memory of Hammer was still freshly dug up in her mind, and Agni’s words rang forebodingly in her mind. “Kyrri,” she said, and he looked up at her expectantly. “I’m going to tell Agni everything.”
“If you think that’s best,” he replied hesitantly.
And so she did. Gina told her tale from the cemetery on, in as much detail as she could remember. She omitted nothing, watching him for a reaction whenever she spoke of Gavin Crowell or the cultists, but his face remained neutral throughout her story. She even included her concerns that he was, or was aligned with, Gavin Crowell at the end, and he did react to that, nodding in agreement.
“I can see why you would come to that conclusion,” he remarked. “I would have thought the same.”
“That isn’t reassuring,” she said.
“I can tell you I’m not aligned with anyone, if it will make you feel better. It’s the truth, but you can’t know that for sure.” Agni shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulders. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious.”
“So it was just good luck that you happened along?” prompted Gina. “It seems awfully coincidental.”
“Well, I just finished a job in Calephais,” he replied. “I have contacts in Beersheba who sent for me, but then I saw a fire-haired Easterner traveling with a Cat of Ulthar in full armor.” He grinned. “How can I pass that mystery up?”
“I’m sure the 500 dinieri didn’t hurt,” she muttered, and he laughed aloud.
“The job was for ten times that,” he chuckled, holding his belly. “I am not in need of money. But what sort of mercenary would I be if I had offered my services for no charge? Plus, then you really wouldn’t have trusted me.”
Gina doubted the veracity of his job claims, and Kyrri’s audible scoff indicated that he did as well. Agni looked down at the Cat between them in surprise. “Do you doubt it, Cat of Ulthar?”
“Hell yes I doubt it,” hissed Kyrri. “5000 dinieri for a mercenary? Please.”
“He does,” laughed Gina. “He says 5000 dinieri is insane for a mercenary.”
“It is,” agreed Agni. “But my clients know that I am worth every coin.”
The woods were lit with an ethereal orange glow as the last rays of the sun reached languidly out to paint them. “It’s getting dark, milady,” continued the man. “There should be a campsite past this bend.”
“We usually travel at night,” complained Kyrri. “It’s safer.”
“Kyrri’s concerned about traveling during the day,” she translated, already tired of doing so.
“Well, my eyes are not quite as good in the dark as a Cat’s,” he replied. “But they aren’t bad. I will take most of the night’s watch - I only require a few hours of sleep. Which of you would you like me to wake?”
Kyrri bristled. “I think night would be safer,” he grumbled under his breath. “Tell him to wake me. I will take over the watch.”
“I just got a good night’s sleep last night,” replied Gina, talking to Agni. “You can wake me.”
Kyrri jumped in front of them, blocking their path. He drew himself up on his hind legs, standing nearly as tall as Gina. He put one paw on Agni’s chest and pointed to his own. “I take it he told you that he would take watch?” surmised Agni, amused.
Gina sighed. “Yep.”
Kyrri looked pleased with himself and resumed his march up the trail.
“Then I will wake Kyrri when the night is almost done. That way you will be fresh for watch tomorr
ow night.” Agni whistled at the Cat, as he had walked past the almost invisible side trail to the campsite. Kyrri turned, looking indignant at being called in such a manner, and sheepishly backtracked to the trail. The site barely qualified as a clearing, in Gina’s eyes, but was off-trail and relatively well hidden. Agni began gathering branches for a fire, and Kyrri did so as well, competitively. Before long they had a small campfire roaring. They hadn’t made a fire before, being concerned about being seen, but it warmed more than just Gina’s skin, and looking into the flames was calming.
“Are we sure it’s safe to have a fire?” asked Kyrri, and Gina echoed the question at Agni.
“No,” he replied. “But it will keep the larger animals away from us during the night, and I will keep watch out of the light.”
“If we build a fire each night, I can hunt for dinner,” cooed Kyrri, stretching out beside the fire and half-closing his eyes. “Some fresh meat would be better than these tins.”
“Kyrri’s offering to hunt for dinner,” echoed Gina.
“Great,” said Agni, dragging several logs from the perimeter of the clearing to act as benches around the fire. “Tell him I prefer rabbits. There’s usually some around.”
“I didn’t mean tonight,” complained Kyrri, but he stretched and dragged himself to his feet, unbuckling his armor and setting it aside. He rubbed against the log. “Ahhh,” he exhaled, rolling his eyes in happiness. “Nothing like a good scratch once the armor comes off. Rabbits, come to me!” He leapt over the log and disappeared silently into the bushes, his mouth slightly open and a wild look in his eyes. Gina grinned and moved over to the log, nodding her thanks to the mercenary.
He prodded at the fire before taking a seat on the next log. “So, milady is a Dreamer,” he said quietly. “A real Dreamer.”
“So they tell me,” she answered, suddenly glad that Kyrri had jumped in and made his offer to take watch clear. Telling their story had been surprisingly exhausting, and sitting in the warm firelight as dusk took its final breaths had relaxed her to the point of sleepiness. “I just need to find my partner.”
“Is that your dreamquest? All Dreamers have dreamquests,” he asked, his face contorted with confusion. “But yours seems a lot simpler than it should be.”
“I don’t have…” she sighed, remembering her battles over the subject with Kyrri. “I guess so. I haven’t found any greater purpose to it or anything. I came down here by choice. And people have died, so I’m not looking for anything more complex than what it is. It’s already too bloody to be simple.”
Agni nodded. “I am sorry for your losses, milady, of course. I didn’t mean to sound flippant.”
“You’re awfully well-spoken for a mercenary.”
“Met many mercenaries, have you?” he smirked.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “But it seems like you could do better.”
“I have many talents,” he replied. “I do what I like to do.”
“Kill people?” Gina tsked. “Is that what you mean? Because on my world, we call people like that psychopaths and lock them away.”
“I like to consult with those who make it worth my while,” he replied smoothly, meeting her stony gaze. “Or those who intrigue me. I keep them safe from what comes for them at night, or on the battlefield, or in the shadows of a business meeting. Sometimes it’s dirty work,” he admitted with a shrug. “But it’s almost always interesting. And,” he added with a wink. “This isn’t your world.”
Gina drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and leaned into the fire’s warmth. “I assure you, I never forget that.”
Crackling branches signified Kyrri’s arrival, and he slunk into the circle bearing the weight of two fat rabbits in his teeth. Agni took them from him and tried to pat the waist-high Cat on the head, earning him a stern rebuke and a paw batting his hand away. “I’d wait until he decides whether he likes you,” laughed Gina as Kyrri trotted over and curled up beside her legs.
“Well, good job on dinner anyway, Cat,” replied Agni, rubbing his hand. “I’ll get these cleaned up and on a spit. Milady, would you get the salt pouch from inside my pack?”
Gina slid her feet out from underneath Kyrri’s warm fur and nodded, walking over to where the man had laid out his fur. She unlatched the pack, and grabbed the small brown pouch from his pack, noticing a small leather journal with a pencil attached to it as she did so. He can write, she thought, resisting the strong temptation to untie the small piece of string holding the journal closed and closing the main pouch instead to hide it from view. She had trusted Agni with their story, she would trust him to reveal his secrets at his own pace.
58
The coins jingled loudly as Nikolai passed the pouch to Morgan. “I put both of yours in there,” he said. “Ran out of pouches.”
“That’s fine,” replied Morgan, handing the bag off to Toma. “If that job offer’s still welcome…”
“You bet,” said Nikolai with a smile. “And I hired two new men this afternoon, so you’ll be second in line instead of first on this route.” He leaned in close. “Trust me, that’s a good thing. Glad to have you back. Mati and Aleka are yours again for the trip.”
“Thanks,” said Morgan. He’d grown to like the gelding.
“Get whatever extras you want tonight and rest up,” warned Nikolai.
Morgan furrowed his brow. “How far is it to Gak?”
“About two weeks if all goes perfect, but it’s a rough trail,” the older man explained. “It’s narrow and dangerous in some parts, and the route through the mountains snakes directly up the side of one before leveling out. We’ll have to tether the extra horses to the wagons to get them over, and there’s usually delays there.” He shrugged. “Get more than you think you need. I’ve been stuck out there a month before.”
Morgan and Toma exchanged glances at this, but it was still their best and safest bet. “Understood,” said Morgan.
“I like that,” grinned Nikolai. “You don’t get a lot of ‘understoods’ from your lackeys nowadays. Understood,” he chuckled, waving at them as he walked away.
Toma bounced the coin purse in his palm. “I’m pretty sure you said ‘understood’ last time he barked an order at us,” he observed.
“I don’t think Nikolai listens so much as he waits to keep talking,” replied Morgan with a wry smile.
They returned to the caravan the following morning, after a raucous night at an inn with the other caravaners. Too much drink was had by all involved, so though Morgan and Toma rushed through the streets squinting against the morning sunlight, they still arrived at the caravan well before most of the others, including Nikolai himself.
The day may have started slow, but Nikolai seemed intent on keeping their schedule, and so pushed everyone at an uncomfortable trot until lunchtime. Morgan dismounted, aching, and only half-heartedly patted Mati on the neck before hobbling over to Toma. Toma slid clumsily off Aleka’s back and winced, but joined Morgan to walk down to the chef wagon.
Both the horses and the men were relieved when the rest of the day was spent at their normal slow walk, with the wagons rolling steadily between them instead of bouncing jerkily over the jagged trail. They arrived at their evening’s stopping point when the sun still had at least an hour in the sky, and Morgan welcomed the extra time out of the saddle. The evening crowd around the fire was subdued, in part due to their lingering hangovers and also because they were exchanging horror stories about their time with various caravans. There were several bandit attacks, bloody and brutally retold, but the one that stuck in Morgan’s mind the most was told by a grizzled older mercenary from the rear of the caravan. He’d been traveling with Nikolai for two years, but before then, his caravan had run an additional route to one of the smaller villages on the southern edge of the Eastern Desert. One night they went to sleep - and only three of them woke up. The other fifty or so people in their group were gone without a trace, with a single, unmarked bronze coin left in a pile of clothes at the p
lace of each one. The animals and the wagons were all still there, and he ran to the nearest horse, and ran the animal until it died a day away from the ocean. The only condition he had for joining Nikolai’s crew was that he would never set foot fifty miles from that spot again.
“I thought Gak was in the Eastern Desert,” asked Morgan when the man was finished with his story.
The old man bellowed laughter. “The Eastern Desert is half the world, boy,” he cackled. “If I weren’t willin’ to go to the Desert at all, I’d never get work on a caravan again.”
Toma and Morgan got lucky on their first three watch draws, drawing either first or last each time. It wasn’t until the fourth evening, when Morgan pulled the dreaded middle straw, that he was reminded of how hellish interrupted sleep made the next day. Unfortunately, it was that fifth day that they passed the foothills of the Sarnath Rim, and the morning’s ride was exhausting. Morgan couldn’t imagine it was pleasant for the horses either. Then at mid-day, Nikolai stopped the caravan and called for them to hook their horses into the wagons. The following hours were a sweaty blur; it had been getting progressively hotter as they approached the mountains. Morgan and Toma helped tie in Mati and Aleka, who didn’t appear pleased to be tied to several other horses and a very heavy wagon. With four horses pulling hard against their yokes, the wagon crept up the steep slope, and the men walked next to the back wheels of each of them, watching the progression tensely. It was their jobs to slide in the triangular blocks of wood in enough time to prevent the wagons from crashing down like dominoes, but that seemed like an awfully sketchy business to Morgan, and he desperately hoped it didn’t come to that. He wasn’t sure how long he spent focusing on his assigned wagon wheel as he crept up the side of the mountain, but it felt like an eternity.
At last the ground leveled off beneath him, and Morgan looked up to see a stunning view of the vast desert that stretched in front of them. It was a white ocean that stretched to the horizon, with waves rippling delicately over its surface. It was stoically eternal, and beautiful.