For the first couple of days, he had been enjoying the novelty of the trip. That had not lasted long, however. Now he just wanted it to be over. He had been coerced into coming in the first place, and although no one had died yet, everyone swore it was only a matter of time.
The ninth day, Aric was outside the argosy for a short while, just wanting to breathe fresh air and stretch his legs. On earlier days there would have been plenty of company outside, but there was little now, and while he tried to watch the horizons for attacks of any kind, he kept stumbling over the dips and rises of the sand beneath his feet.
“Aric, isn’t it?” a woman’s voice asked.
He looked up and to his right. Kadya leaned out the window of the lead argosy.
“Yes.”
“Have a care out there, Aric, we don’t want anything happening to you.”
“Thank you. I don’t think we want anything happening to anyone, do we?”
“Of course not. But you especially.”
He didn’t ask why. Ruhm had said it early on—he was the only psionic they had with an ability that could help find hidden stores of metals. Without him the whole expedition might fail.
“I just needed some air,” he said. “I’ll get back inside soon.”
“See that you do. And if you want to walk outside, take a couple soldiers with you. I can let them know they’re to obey your commands.”
A sensation of power welled up in Aric, but he pushed it back down. He knew he was important to the trip, but he didn’t want that importance going to his head. That would only make it harder to live his half-elf’s life once they got back to Nibenay, and would make his traveling companions resent him. On the road, as in the city, he believed his best hope for a peaceful life lay in keeping his profile low. “Thanks,” he told her. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Kadya was annoyed with Aric. Nibenay, her husband and king, had specifically instructed her to keep the young man out of harm’s way. If he wouldn’t take the simplest steps to protect himself, though, what could she do for him?
Well, quite a lot, actually. But she didn’t want to waste any of her magic on him if she could help it. Arcane magic required the use of life forces to power it, and in this environment there wasn’t much life force around, except that belonging to those in her own expedition. She had already had to use magic a couple of times. The first time had been to destroy a gold scorpion that had approached her personal maidservant, their first day off the caravan road. That night at an oasis, another of the slaves in her retinue had been seized by some sort of road sickness, and started convulsing, pink froth showing at the edges of her mouth. Many thought the sickness was a result of Kadya’s magic, as if the life force of the slave had been tapped for earlier spells.
Everybody knew templars used magic, of course. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things, and Kadya thought that for the good of the expedition, she was better off keeping it discreet.
Still, she tried to keep an eye on the half-elf. Letting him die before the metal was located would infuriate Siemhouk as well as Nibenay. Nibenay could kill her in an instant, but it was Siemhouk’s vengeance she feared. She could make Kadya’s life long and miserable. And she wouldn’t hesitate to do so if Kadya crossed her in any way.
Which made crossing her a dangerous game.
But Kadya hadn’t wanted to come on this trip just to serve her young mistress. To the extent that serving Siemhouk also worked toward her own goal, she was glad to do it. In the long run, what she wanted was to take Djena’s spot—and from there, just perhaps, restore the position of Templar of the King’s Law to the dominant position it was meant to have. That would require Siemhouk either dying or losing favor with her father, of course. But Kadya had seen his moods swing from one extreme to another, and his love for Siemhouk, even though she was his own kin, could change in time.
Kadya was sure Siemhouk had her own hidden objectives for this expedition. Such was life inside the Naggaramakam, a constant struggle for position, the never-ending play of strategies and counter-strategies.
So she planned to keep Aric safe, at least until the metal had been retrieved. But if he made it necessary, he might find himself riding the rest of the way, bound and gagged inside her private argosy. She had smiled and wished him well, when he declined her offer of assistance. She just hoped, for his sake, that he didn’t mistake her protection for friendship.
Aric was simply another tool, like the shovels and picks and hammers brought along for the slaves to use once they got there. And once a tool’s usefulness was at an end, it could be discarded without a second glance.
They had spotted the oasis hours before, from a cleft in the rocky ridge they were crossing. Myrana was trying to keep them on the path her dreams had set out for her, but the dream route occasionally lacked specifics, and each night she had to plumb those dreams for clues as to the next day’s travels.
They had departed the caravan with only one soldier kank, as that had been all that Welton could spare. Although Myrana tried to argue the point, Sellis and Koyt would not ride the creature, insisting it was meant for Myrana alone. She had relented, secretly thankful. She wanted to be fair, but walking all day made her legs ache, and since she didn’t know what they were headed toward, she wanted to save her strength.
On the fifth night of the journey, they had lost the kank.
Koyt had been standing watch while the others slept, Myrana hoping desperately for a dream that would chart the next day’s course. Koyt sat near the fire, longbow across his lap. The kank, four feet tall and eight long, was asleep just outside the firelight. Koyt claimed later that he heard nothing until the first dagorran used its concussive blast attack on the kank. The kank lurched upright, letting out a squeal of pain that woke Myrana and Sellis. Koyt quickly nocked an arrow and scanned for a target. When he saw the dagorran charging the kank, he led it slightly and let fly.
The shaft darted into the dagorran’s open maw, driving through so that the point jutted from between its bulging eyes. The crystals on its back, which people said powered their psionic abilities, dimmed from a dull glow to none at all as it dropped to the ground just inches shy of the kank.
But there had been more than one dagorran, and they attacked from several directions at once. The second hit the kank with another concussive blast. With what was left of its strength, the kank caught that one in its pincers. Koyt hit another with an arrow, and Sellis moved in, a sword in each hand, and dispatched the one the kank held.
One more dagorran’s psionic attack, however, was all the kank could bear. The huge insect dropped to the dirt, twitched a few times, and then lay still. Sellis and Koyt slaughtered the other two dagorrans trying to move in to feed on Myrana’s mount, but it was too late for the kank. No one slept well for the rest of that night, and by morning the dead kank’s stench was so foul they couldn’t wait to travel, even though Myrana’s dreams had been interrupted so she didn’t know for sure which way to go.
They had briefly debated returning to the caravan, but decided against it. The caravan had no doubt continued on its way, the opposite of the general northwesterly direction they had headed, so five days gone meant ten days’ travel to catch them. For all they knew, their own destination was far closer.
But with three of them on foot, one of them half-crippled, their progress was quite a bit slower. By the time they sighted the oasis, the water bladders were growing perilously light. Regardless of where Myrana’s dreams might have wanted them to go, they all agreed that detouring to the oasis was the best idea.