The bright sun of the of the Edran afternoon beat down upon Dalmar and Sa'Vahn as they walked along the dusty path leaving the place where they were held captive just a day before. The roadway seemed to stretch on forever towards the horizon where a lonely set of pale green, round mountaintops stood. To the directions of either side and behind the two wanderers was a flat, rocky land on the edge of a strange desert where the sun unmercifully beat the landscape like a slavemaster bearing nothing but whips upon the bleached back of the world. Both Dalmar and Sa'Vahn dripped with the sweat of their own brows and their tongues swelled in their mouths for a drink of water. The weight of their swords increased with each step, and it was not long before they stopped underneath the shade of a wretched jut of wood and dry leaves wedged between two large boulders on the side of the path. The sound of a lonely raptor high in the sky screeched over the desert's edge and the two men rested and breathed, looking at each other with strange anticipation that never found conversational fruition. Dalmar looked at Sa'Vahn's ragged clothes and his eyes ran across the ornate tattoo of the eagle on his shoulder. He removed his vest as he no longer needed the extra weight nor the clothing in the unbearable heat, and handed it to Sa'Vahn. "Here, take this. This should give you some comfort against that blasted sun" Dalmar said.
"Aye, thank ye kindly, good sir" Sa'Vahn said as he stood up and wrapped the vest about his body. "But if we don't find some water soon, I fear we may never reach those mountains. See the mist hanging in the air around those tops? There's water there. I can feel it in my aching bones" Sa'Vahn continued. Dalmar peered towards the horizon finding his eyesight was not as sharp as Sa'Vahn's gaze.
"I don't see much of anything but mountains, but your words have been true up to this point. We'll keep heading this way. Maybe we'll pass someone along the way" Dalmar replied.
"Maybe..." Sa'Vahn said, closing one eye and looking at Dalmar with the other. "Maybe not...But that's the spirit, Dalmar!" Sa'Vahn said as he patted Dalmar on the back. "If a man has been liberated of all that he owns and all that he has worked for, he can still at the very least count on hope. Knowing that, Dalmar, I have hope, and you hold on to your's. If'n that stays true, I have no doubt our heart will follow suit, and we'll find that water." Sa'Vahn smiled and then turned his head towards the horizon and the journey ahead. Dalmar smiled and even chuckled softly to himself. Dalmar thought of Sh'lzzt and wondered if he would ever see his friend again. Dalmar also knew that in this bleak environment, Sa'Vahn's optimism was heartily welcomed as Sh'lzzt would have found a way to bring out of the poorness of the situation. For a moment, Dalmar was glad he had Sa'Vahn to carry the spirit for both of them, but it was Dalmar's nature to bear hope and trust his eyes. He had been through too much up to this point to abandon either spirit or hope.
Rested, the two men stood up and began their arduous walk along the cart path again. The sun's heat caused the dry dirt of the desert ahead to shimmer as the heat radiated away from the ground. Sa'Vahn kept his eyes ahead as Dalmar's vision occasionally sunk to his feet. After the sun had sailed to its three-quarter mark across the clear blue sky, Sa'Vahn paused catching Dalmar off-guard. Dalmar stopped as Sa'Vahn put his hand over his own eyes and peered more intently along the cart path. "What is it?" Dalmar asked.
"Dalmar, we might be in luck" Sa'Vahn said as he licked his lips. "There's a cart in the distance...someone's coming" he said as he smiled and wiped his face with his hand. Dalmar's heart jumped for a moment and he followed Sa'Vahn's gesture. Dalmar peered into the distance, blinkng as the sweat drenched the area around his eyes. Each of the men slid their swords through their belts around their waist in the back attempting to keep their appearance somewhat inviting. The two men quickened their pace with the energy gained from the sight of the cart heading towards them. As the cart became larger and more apparent in their view, their pace slowed a bit and they soon both stopped to rest again and let the cart reach them as they stood at the side of roadway. With a rickety, wooden sound the cart finally reached the two exhausted men as they hailed the cart and its driver. A pair of oxen let out a bellow as their master tugged at their reigns, and immediately both Sa'Vahn and Dalmar's eyes fell upon a group of amphora in the back of the cart. "Please, sir, might you have anything for a couple of dried up people caught in the hell of the desert?" Sa'Vahn begged of the cart driver. Dalmar's eyes fell upon the driver and his passenger, each wearing a red sash about their bodies. Dalmar lowered his eyebrows and scanned the back of the cart. The two well-armored men were covered in the dust of the desert from their long journey, and smiled slightly at the sight of two other men. The two red-sashed men looked at each other and then looked at Dalmar, their gaze slithering over his body like a snake that crawled out of a hole in the sand.
"Why, sure we have, friends!" the driver said as he invited Sa'Vahn to come closer. The cart's passenger reached behind himself and grabbed a large, gourd-sized jug of liquid and handed it to the driver. Sa'Vahn's eyes glanced at the red sashes and then at Dalmar who stood on the other side of the cart. Both Sa'Vahn and Dalmar nodded slightly to one another as Sa'Vahn took a step closer and held out his hand causing the driver to lean forward to hand the jug of water to Sa'Vahn. Dalmar gripped the hilt of his sword cleverly concealed behind him. Sa'Vahn reached for the jug, but then quickly grabbed the man's hand instead and pulled his unbalanced body to the ground. The other red-sashed man jumped from his position in the cart with the speed of a young man as Dalmar drew his sword from the passenger's flank. With one smooth movement of his wrist, the Dalmar sliced through the back of the man's leg crippling his as he fell off the cart into the sand screaming and holding his leg. The blood poured from the man's thigh as he gripped it and clenched his teeth. Dalmar's eyes darted to Sa'Vahn who had, in a similar motion, plunged the blade of his own sword through the back of the fallen driver pinning his lifeless body to the ground.
"Oh, please sirs! Don't kill me! Take whatever you want! It's your's!" cried the wounded man writhing on the ground holding his leg. Fear gripped the red-sashed man of about twenty years, and a puddle of yellow water soon mixed with the blood from his leg into the now-murky dirt of the desert. Sa'Vahn looked at the man as he wrenched the blade of his sword out of the corpse of the driver. Dalmar moved around the cart towards the bloodied man. Sa'Vahn leaned down on the ground at the man who had begun to tear at the sight of his frightful ambushers, and jabbed his sword into the ground beside the man's body with a mighty stab.
"Now, listen very closely if you wish to live." Sa'Vahn said to the man. "You're going to answer me a few questions, aren't you?" Sa'vahn's tone became calm and serious as he motioned for Dalmar to bring some water to the man holding his bleeding leg. Pointing to the Eagle of Illdris, Sa'Vahn asked, "You know what this is, don't you, boy?"
"Yes, I know that mark, old man...." said the young man.
"Then you know what it stands for. Now, tell me, what are you doing here? Who and what is this stuff for?" Sa'Vahn continued. The young man's eyes darted back and forth between Dalmar and Sa'Vahn, wrought with fear and hesitation.
"We..we're taking it to master Sarat and mistress Yelora at the arena of Feylor! Water! Please, let me have some..." Sa'Vahn looked at Dalmar who bent down and poured some water into the man's mouth, splashing it on his face as it littered the ground around his head.
"Sarat? Is that your leader? Who is that?" Sa'Vahn demanded of the ailing, red-sashed man.
"You don't know Sarat? You bear the mark of Polias. I thought every man of Polias knew Sarat!" The man said with surprise as he looked at his captors again with confusion.
"Let's just say we've been out of town for a very long time. Answer the question. Time's running out and you don't have much blood left and I have even less patience." Sa'Vahn continued.
"Sarat is the the Lord of Crimson Reign, the one and the high. He will lead us to take back what is rightfully our's!" The man's confidence returned and he spit a bloody blob of spit into Sa'Vahn's face. Sa'Vahn's face grew into one of anger as he stood up and wiped his face off again.
"I think we have what we need to know. Let him rot in the sun, red bastard!" Sa'Vahn said grimly as he turned and walked to the back of the cart. Mockingly, the young man began to chuckle at Sa'Vahn. Dalmar looked at the delusional dying man.
"You don't get it, old man!" the man said as he sat up, whimpering slightly at the pain and the last of his energy. "When they find us out here slaughtered like dogs in the desert and his supplies stolen, they will hunt you down! It won't take him long to figure out who you are and where you come from. All the warriors in the arena come from Altendon, you fool!" Dalmar squinted as he took the flat of his blade and rapped the man on the head smartly making a loud metallic clank. Jolted, the man stopped his caterwauling and looked up at Dalmar as he rubbed his swelling head.
"You aren't making this any easier on either one of us, fella'" Dalmar said. Dalmar sighed and looked at the angle of the sun that had begun its steep descent towards the horizon. Dalmar knew that the night would bring a momentary relief from the sweltering heat. Dalmar also surmised that the night might bring predators to feed on the flesh of the dead. "No, I won't kill you and neither will he. But when the dogs come tonight, they will rend your flesh from its bone. They are not going to care one way or another about this 'Sarat' guy or your cause." Dalmar smirked and withdrew his word into his belt. "What a waste, man. What a pointless waste." Dalmar spit on the ground beside the bleeding man who had slumped by this time as his head swooned against the heat of the dying day. Dalmar walked over to Sa'Vahn and looked into the cart grabbing a jug of water gulping its goodness down. "What do you think, Sa'Vahn?" Dalmar finally asked of his companion.
"Well, we have a couple of options, Dalmar. One, assuming his story is straight, we can go back to the arena of Feylor and confront this Sarat which could be very stupid. Or we can continue back to Altendon and speak with Polias and let him know what we have found. I favor the second route. I would gather that is also the best way to go about finding your friend as there's no point into rushing into a bowels of the underworld without some more friends to guard your back and flanks. " Sa'Vahn sighed and took a deep drink of wine from a loose cask in the back of the cart. Sa'Vahn savored each gulp as if it was his last, and then wiped his mouth clean of the deep red substance.
"Once again...." Dalmar said. "You have proven yourself to be quite the sound man. I agree, friend." Dalmar smiled and grabbed the cask from Sa'Vahn and drank of the wine, too. He smiled and patted the old warrior on his back as he turned towards the dying man in the roadway. Dalmar climbed to the top cart where the red-sashed men once sat, and turned around back to Sa'Vahn's gaze.
"What do you think you are doing, Dalmar?" Sa'Vahn shouted to his partner.
"Well, I thought you would want to ride rather than walk through this godless heat...." Dalmar answered.
"Dalmar, we can't take this cart. It would mark us as much as this tattoo right here on my shoulder. Hop down and grab some water - as much as you can carry...." Sa'Vahn directed as he leaned over the body of the driver and began to strip him of his armor. Dalmar chuckled softly to himself as he wondered if Sa'Vahn might find the same humor as he if he lifted the entire cart into the air. Instead, Dalmar grabbed a few jugs of water. He then stripped the armor off of the still body of the passenger whose body had turned white from bloodloss, and grabbed his sword. Making another quick survey of the cart, Dalmar grabbed another jug of water and poured it into an old bucket giving each of the oxen a quick drink before he and his comrade began their trek towards the mountains. A slight breeze began to blow in the direction of the arena from which they were still escaping, and it cooled the air quickly as dusk began to form in the sky. Together through the rocky desert towards the mountain, the two warriors walked with purpose until the moon was high overhead and small streaks of light began to fill the night sky. The desert was now frigid, and each were glad that they had taken the time to grab some extra clothing even if it was armor. Eventually, they stepped off the main pathway through the dry environment. Sa'Vahn produced a small bit of flint with which he used a chunk of rock to make a fire from the dry scrub he found growing a small tufts beside the tall, flowering cacti in the area.
"You never had any intention of letting that guy live, did you, Sa'Vahn?" Dalmar asked as Sa'Vahn struck the flint against the sandstone sending a shower of sparks into the dry grass.
"No, Dalmar, I did not. Does that bother you?" Sa'Vahn asked thoughtfully.
"Well, no, not really." Dalmar said sheepishly.
"Ok, then, what is it? What's bothering you?" Sa'Vahn beckoned as he noticed a strange tone laced with avoidance from Dalmar's lips.
"Ok, well, the thing is that I just think it would have been a bit more proper not to lead him on by giving him the hope that he might live if he cooperated" said Dalmar, mustering a bit of direction to his voice.
"And given the course of events, do you think it would have made a difference in his reaction to me?" Sa'Vahn asked, pointing at Dalmar with his bit of flint. Dalmar paused, and thought of the manner with which the young man became more confident and direct with Sa'Vahn as he spit in his face.
"Well, I guess not now that I think about it." Dalmar answered, once again bashfully.
"Dalmar, you've got to realize that Polias's family and the Crimson Reign have been at each other's throat for one hundred fifty years. There are no real surprises anymore. When it comes to them and their kind, they are a cult, and they will be dealt with in accordance to the general rules as dictated by those many years." Sa'Vahn paused and pulled a small bit of bread from his pocket that he found in the back of the cart. He then handed Dalmar a piece of bread, too. "The only surprises you can count on may never even happen in our lifetime, and are ones of great and unfathomable clandestinity." Sa'Vahn paused once again to chew and swallow his piece of bread. "So, If I decide to manipulate a situation to better the position of Polias and his cause in any great or small way, then I will not hesitate to do so, Dalmar. That is because the cause is greater and far more special than either you, me, or our own personal set of codes."
"I guess I never thought of it like that, man" Dalmar said as he looked up at Sa'Vahn. His eyes glanced across Sa'Vahn's battle scarred arms and hands, and ran down the scar left by a blade many years ago running down his neck. Yes, indeed, this man had seen plenty of battle. While not a worldly view, it was the right view at the right time, and Dalmar understood this. Dalmar was content with this idea for now. For the first time in a long while, Dalmar thought, he was calm and content. In some sort of strange way, he was part of a greater purpose, even if it was only for a moment in time. Dalmar smiled to himself as he looked at the ground. He laid upon his back and stared at the stars and wondered if he would ever see his friend again. He wondered if he would ever reach the lands of Irongard or Balder again. Dalmar's mind wandered as the mesmerizing flicker of the firelight danced upon he and Sa'Vahn, still and blending into the shadowy terrain of the cool nighttime desert. He began to remember his home and the family he once knew. He was a million miles away from them on several levels, nonetheless they were with him on every journey so far. He smiled as the warmth of the fire brushed his skin, and he yawned. The day had been exhausting, and his mind filled with the complexities of living in such a world. But soon his body won the tug-of-war with his brain, and Dalmar, again, found himself asleep out in the world and under the stars.
Invino Veritas
11/20/11
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