Chapter 5

Cade was off and trotting east before the suns set the sky burning. He hoped to come across a caravan, or an oasis, or possibly a town before night fall. Thirst beat at him. He ignored it and pushed himself forward.

It was near the hottest part of the day when Cade spotted something in the distance. He squinted and tried to focus but the waves of heat distorted his vision. Was it a caravan or wishful thinking? He could not be sure, but decided anything that wasn’t completely beige was something worth checking out.

After what seemed an eternity, he started making out the vision in the distance. A caravan. It looked to be heading west.

As he neared, the caravan slowed. A fat man dressed in red and gold silks with a matching turban sat atop a rather nasty looking camel. The man carried a large scimitar on his hip, but the piece looked merely ornamental. Several other camels followed behind with many packs. A silk draped litter was being carried by several large slaves.

“Well met,” Cade said slightly bowing toward the man at the head of the caravan. Cade was not surprised to see the slaves put the litter on the ground and each produce a large sword.

“Well met,” the fat man said. With an unseen signal the camel carrying the man dropped to it’s knees. The man easily slid from the animal and to his feet.

“I am Cade Wardex,” Cade began.

The fat man, who stood two head shorter than Cade held up a hand adorned with rings. “Silence.” He commanded in an overly loud voice eyes darting to the litter and back to Cade’s face.

Cade cocked a dark eyebrow and looked toward the slaves who were still standing guard at the litter.

“I am Defar Abomram of Chennile. How is it you have come to be out here alone and without transport?” The fat man’s dark eyes narrowed and he seemed to take in Cade’s situation with a glance.

Cade thought for just an instant about yanking the arrogant man’s turban from his head and using his authority as a Wardex to demand water. But the thought did not sit well.

“How I came to be here is of no consequence,” Cade answered. “Have you food and water to spare?”

The fat man smiled. It reminded Cade of a lioness he saw once who had just finished a large rather messy meal.

“I do,” the man said. “What have you to barter?”

Cade looked again at the slaves guarding the litter. “I see you transport something of value. Perhaps I can give you the safety of my sword for a time.”

The fat man snorted. “You do not look as if you have business in Chennile Wardex, if Wardex you be.”

Cade did not bother looking down at his ragged clothing. He would not be permitted in the affluent town of Chennile dressed as he was. Chennile did not open its gates to anyone but the very rich.

“I do not,” Cade said. “I am heading east, but perhaps we might strike a deal. Four days rations and I will see you to the gates of that fair town.”

The fat man seemed to consider the offer. Cade’s throat burned. He did not doubt he would take by force that which was not freely given or bartered for his survival.

The short fat man gave a hurried glance at the litter. “I have no need of any more guards. I am but a day from Chennile. There are few criminals out in this desert as you must know.”

A day from Chennile, Cade thought. That put Amstel but two days east.

A flick of the fat man’s wrist brought one of the larger slaves to his side. “Food and water for four days,” he ordered when the slave approached.

Cade bowed again. “Thank you.”

The fat man nodded. “You are welcome my large friend. But I do have a boon.”

Cade nodded. “Of course.”

“Tell no one you passed us.”

Cade’s eyes widened.

The fat man cut in. “I have my secrets as you seem to have yours. Let us part ways and pretend we never crossed paths.”

Cade shrugged. “Done.”

The slave returned then with a leather satchel full of supplies and a large skin of water. Cade uncorked it and greedily drank. The sweet warm water washed away the sand and dryness from his throat. He drank until the skin was empty.

The fat man nodded and the slave produced another skin of water. Cade tied it around his neck.

“Thank you,” Cade said to the fat man. “Perhaps someday I will have the chance to repay your generosity."

The fat man looked at Cade skeptically. “Perhaps, though I hope to never have need of a Wardex. For now, remember, you never saw me.”

Cade nodded. The two men clasped forearms and parted. Cade started east at a much faster trot than earlier that morning. Amstel was waiting. Rotta had two days to live.

Defar Abomram looked back at the litter with more than a little trepidation. He wanted to call out to the large man to come back and rid him of the terrible burden lying inside that litter. He swallowed hard and climbed back onto the camel trying to ease his shaking hands.

The caravan slowly started on its way toward Chennile.

Chapter 6

“Do not,” Gainrel held Mikael in place and whispered unnecessarily when the slave went back for supplies.

Mikael shrugged. “I only want to see what it is causing the wailing.”

Gainrel never took his eyes from the litter. “It is in the litter.”

Mikael focused on the enclosed conveyance. Silks of every color hid the occupant or occupants from prying eyes.

“I wish to see what it is that causes such a disturbance in the praise of the planet,” Mikael said and started once more for the litter.

“Hold!” Gainrel demanded.

Mikael stopped in his tracks. Gainrel almost never raised his voice. “What is it?”

Gainrel shook his head. “I am not certain. I felt its menace from the start. We shall let it pass.”

“I am not afraid to confront evil,” Mikael said indignant. “Fear rolls like waves off the merchant. We must help him.”

“Fear is not the issue Mikael,” Gainrel said and watched as the caravan started back on its journey. When the litter passed within a few feet of the two Legna a terrible snarl escaped the silken folds.

Gainrel raised one hand toward the litter and one toward the sky. The snarling abated.

“What is it?” Mikael asked again. “Are we to leave it? What of the merchant?”

Gainrel nodded. “The merchant is not your priority. Your human is part of prophecy Mikael. Many will be the days when you must turn your righteous wrath from an evil opponent to guard your charge. It is their intent to draw your attention from your duties leaving your human vulnerable.”

Mikael nodded. Gainrel continued watching the slow moving caravan while stroking his beard.

“However,” he continued as if there were no break in conversation. “I am not so obligated. I will go with this caravan and see what I may learn. You continue on with your human. I will find you when my curiosity is sated.”

“So be it,” Mikael said and shot forth in a streak of brilliant silver light.

“Show off,” Gainrel mumbled and took a more leisurely flight.
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