The last one, realizing his predicament, routed.
Vir retrieved a chakram from his neck and calmly swung it at the man. It hit his back, sending him falling to the ground. Neel kept the man struggling until Vir walked over and bonked him on the head, knocking him out.
Without hesitation, Vir searched the bandits, but came away empty-handed. Either they’d hidden their coin beforehand, or they were truly broke. All he found were iron daggers that were more rust than metal, along with some stale bread. Not a single coin on any of them.
Vir took the bread. The daggers would only fetch a handful of coppers, but Vir couldn’t afford to be choosy. He scooped those up too, keeping the rusty blades separated from anything they could contaminate.
“Did they take anything from you?” Vir asked, returning to the couple.
“N-no. They hadn’t yet stolen from us. T-thank you, kind sir. We might’ve lost everything.”
Vir shook his head. “Don’t mention it. Travel with some guards next time, though.”
“Y-yes. Well, honestly, a guard would cost more than what they would’ve asked of us. We came here prepared to pay them out.”
So it’s like a toll? Vir found it shocking that people had reached a sort of agreement with these criminals. By pricing their ‘fee’ less than the cost of a bodyguard, the highwaymen ensured easy income… Until someone strong came along, of course.
Vir took his leave to find a spot nearby to rest. Only now was he beginning to understand how sheltered he’d been in Brij, living in a microcosm isolated from the rest of the kingdom. If this is how the road to Daha was, he didn’t have high hopes for what he’d find inside the city.
With how flat and barren the land was, picking a spot wasn’t hard—pretty much anywhere worked.
He pulled off the road several paces and sat down upon the cracked, dry dirt, taking out a sandwich from his rucksack and fed Neel some dried bird meat.
“Nice work back there, boy,” he said.
Aroo! Neel replied, attempting to lick his face.
“Can’t let you do that, boy! You’ll ruin my face paint!” Vir laughed.
Neel had truly become a formidable force over the past few months. Vir could always count on his four-legged friend, but now the bandy was fearsome fighter as well. A staunch ally he could count on, even in the direst of battles.
Neel tore into his food, but Vir looked at his own sandwich with disdain. It had all the standard ingredients—tomatoes, onions, lettuce, salt, peppers—but somehow, it just didn’t taste the same as Maiya’s cooking.
“Hasn’t even been half a day and I already miss her. Pathetic, isn’t it?” He’d of course traveled without her before, even spending days on his own. But she’d always be there when he returned. Now… Who knew when he’d see her again?
Both the Ash’va and the bandy ignored him, contentedly munching on their hay and meat, respectively.
It was when Vir had almost finished his sandwich that a caravan he’d passed earlier came by, slowing and finally stopping around fifty paces away.
Vir kept a watchful eye, finding nothing amiss with the group of three wagons pulled by two Ash’va apiece. It was a similar setup to what Rudvik had at Brij, just that these wagons were fully enclosed with a white fabric to shield the occupants against the sun.
The moment the wagons stopped, men, women, and children jumped out the back. The kids scurried around, eager to stretch their legs after what must have been a long journey, while the adults set out cloths.
Seems like they had the same idea. Nothing appeared suspicious about the group, so he started packing his things.
He’d just finished feeding Bumpy some water and was about to head out when one of the caravaners approached him. The man wore white robes, and a white hooded headdress that covered his face. A common outfit for desert travelers—it shielded him perfectly from the sun. Vir had donned a similar hood to keep himself from sweating overly much.
Mounted atop Bumpy, Vir stared at the man, his right hand discreetly resting atop a chakri on his left wrist. If needed, he could throw the disk before the man had a chance to react.
“Ho there, traveler,” the black-bearded man said. He appeared to be in his forties, of moderate build, with a round belly. Vir concluded this man was no warrior.
“Do you have business with me?” Vir asked, who held his palms up in a show of peace.
“Friend, I am called Param. We are merchants bound from Saran to Daha, seeking rest on our long journey. I hope you do not mind our presence here? If so, please say the word and we shall move.”
Vir shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I was just about to leave myself.”
“Oh? Could I convince you to linger? Ser, er…”
“Neel,” Vir replied. “Just Neel.”
The man smiled. “Neel, then! We passed you earlier, after you daringly saved that wagon from those highwaymen. Truly a noble thing you did back there. What’s more, you clearly know your way around the art of combat. And that bandy of yours! Magnificent. Those are no mere bracelets, I see.”
“I can handle myself, yes. And?” Vir replied, growing suspicious. What does this man want?
“Why don’t we ride together? Tis a lonely journey, and I can assure you, we are quite good company,” he said, gesturing back to his friends. Vir spotted women and children there too, which certainly reduced the man’s threat level.
Vir wasn’t convinced. The last time a traveler accosted him on a road, it’d ended with him and Maiya behind bars.
“Sorry, not interested,” he said.
“Even… Even if there’s coin in it?” Param said, throwing Vir a fabric sack.
Vir caught the pouch and peered inside. All coppers, and by the weight, around ten. It wasn’t much at all. Barely enough for a single night’s stay in Daha. He cocked a brow at Param.
“We could use an extra bodyguard, but as you can see,” he said, pointing at his caravan, “we are not all that lightly guarded. I’m afraid this is all we can offer you.”
“Why bother, then? I could be a criminal, or someone who would take advantage of you.”
Param smiled wryly. “I would have been driven onto the streets long ago if I could not read people accurately,” he said. “As a merchant, I am quite confident that we can rely on you. And the more guards, the better. Hiranya isn’t the country it once used to be, after all.”
Well, there’s money on the table, Vir thought. He could never have enough of that.
Besides, unlike during his trip to Saran, he now had an array of Talents at his disposal. Even if they tried anything funny, he could always slip into the shadow realm and escape with Neel, or Leap away if it was cloudy. But a glance up at the sky showed not a single cloud at all.
“Alright, but I’ll keep my own camp tonight.”
The man bowed and lowered his head. “Of course! Welcome, friend, to my family’s caravan.”
“Your… family?” Vir asked, looking at the group of nearly a dozen people.
“Trust is a precious commodity in this world. Who better to trust than your own family?”
Vir couldn’t really refute that. He idled on Bumpy while the caravan finished their break. Though he’d agreed to travel with them, that didn’t mean he was going to get into their affairs. When they started again, he rode at the front, with Param and his petite wife, Rayali.
The pace was slower, though not by all that much. It’d be easier on Bumpy and was probably the right speed for the injured animal. He really had been pushing the beast harder than he ought to have.
“So, who is your furry friend, sleeping happily over there?”
“Uh, he’s… Neel,” Vir replied awkwardly. I really should’ve picked a better alias.
“Neel? Is that not your name?” Param asked.
“It—it’s a family tradition to name one’s bandy after themselves,” Vir said, lying through his teeth. “Creates a special bond, you see.”