Days of High Adventure (Part 3)

Chapter 5. Death Cult.

There where only five or six others inside the walls of the Golden Camel, all foreigners from outside the quiet town. Four of them wore the lose robes of the caravan tribes, and the other two looked to be mercenaries without any work. After housing and feeding their animals, Leora, Tengu, and Seth entered the low door and seated themselves by a wall, exchanging glances with the other patrons til the keeper of the house tended to their needs.
         “Welcome, welcome. Are you in need of anything?”
         “Your best food and drink, which we will pay for with gold.” Tengu winked at the happy man. “Also a little information; why is this place so quiet?”
         “Well, Balbados was once a mining town, but the supply was soon exhausted when they reached the bottom of the shafts. Most of the families that lived here headed back to the east.” He answered.
         “I see. What of the priest that we have heard is being held prisoner? We would like to see him if it is possible.”
         The keeper of the house baulked at the mention of this.
         “Don’t ask such questions, if you want my advice.” He lowered his voice before continuing  in his normal tone, – “I’ll see what I have in the cellars.”
         “Interesting.” Smiled Tengu under the veil of his mouth.
         After being served with some wine and salty bread, they were joined by one of the armed men. The strange arrival of Leora and Tengu had aroused an adventurous curiosity in him, so he made a place for himself after saying farewell to another man he had been talking to.
         “Good morning.” The large man said as he sat down. “Looks like you two have been to hell and back!”
         His heavy chest shook with laughter as he slapped Tengu on the back, almost knocking the wine from out of his mouth.
         “And to you, swordsman of Balbados.” Said Leora as she laughed at the expression on Tengu’s face.”
         “I ‘aint no local from here, pretty lady.” He grinned. “But I am one of the better swordsman in these parts, I’ll guarantee you that!” Grinning again as he patted the double holsters that where attached to his belt.
         “Maybe you could tell us what all the secrecy is about, and your name? I am Tengu, and these are my travelling companions, Leora and Seth.”
         Looking for a face to label with the third name, the large mercenary searched with some confusion (thinking that maybe the heat of the sun had cooked their brains) until he realized there was a tiny creature walking around the knotted surface of the table.
         “Solomon is my name, maybe you have both heard of me?” He said, lowering his eyes to the level of the table top to get a perspective view of the sprite. “Hey, were did you get this thing?”
         Irritated by the pair of blue eyes that were following his every step, the sprite sent a puff of lights like an explosion of stars into Solomon’s face. Startled by the flashes, he came upright as he flinched and covered his face.
         Hands on their knives and expecting the worst outcome, they waited until Solomon laughed at his own mistake.
         “Guess he doesn’t like you getting too close, huh?”
                             *          *          *

         Tengu gradually recovered inside their room at the Golden Camel, spending most of his four days with Pezak and his caravan crew. They too were waiting; waiting for better weather before they finished delivering their hunting birds, fragrant resins, and salt to the desert capital.
         At night, Tengu would watch the local inhabitants, who would shuffle in just before dark to drink amongst themselves. The two Halfling brothers who had sold them water were regular patrons, and they introduced themselves as Oakey and Snitch.

         Solomon surprisingly lived in the town, having spent all the gold he had earned from his many pit fights and gladiatorial victories during the glory days of Balbados’ famed mines. What remained of his wealth was a stronghold outside of the withering town. Here, he trained young warriors that had heard of his fame on their father’s lips. He passed on to them the courage of the eagle, the strength of the bull, the secrets of steel.
         Leora trained with the learned pit-fighter and his pupils, wrapping their swords in leather and cloth as the room became a mock battle each day after he had guided them through the drills and tricks of the deadly trade. At the end of each day, Leora would join the sword-master to eat a simple meal, watching the dry landscape change from clay to the red hills and purple sky of the dipping light as they sat outside and spoke of ancient hero’s and gods.

         Riding home under the clear heavens, the myriad constellations, moons, and falling stars, she sang to herself as she returned to the Golden Camel. Apart from this place of temporary residence, she hadn’t seen much else of Balbados, except for the markets which where organized in the main square.
         Entering the town centre now in the gloom of night, she caught something in her vision; a moving shadow that had merged into the next. Pulling back on the reigns, she waited at the mouth of the street she had arrived from, waiting for anything else amongst the dishevelled buildings. Without further sign of anyone else waiting in ambush, she climbed down from Moonshadow, whispering to him to find his own way back to the stables. Alone, she held the handle of her new sword as it hung from her belt, creeping against the walls to catch the thief in the dark.**
         The shadow moved again, hurrying along the fallen walls until it was gone, but with a deadly grace the amazon pursued the fleeting signals in the empty streets. It was leading her to the edge of town, toward the black frames of the tall winches and pulleys of the mines in the distance, showing against the lurid red haze of the moon behind them. Coming to hide behind the corner of a building, Leora spied on the plump Halfling who had sold them water days ago. Wary like a rabbit, Snitch was chewing on his bottom lip as he turned to check over his shoulder at the feeling of being watched, but having missed Leora in the decaying streets he adjusted his clothing and hat before continuing on his way toward the mines.
         After watching him run from her view into the deeper part of the night, Leora whistled a melody to call for Moonshadow, who hadn’t been waiting far.
         She returned to the Golden Camel, finding Tengu on his chosen stool in the corner of the lamplit walls of the establishment as he laughed with the leader of the caravan men. The turban wearing man rose to allow the warrior her seat at the table, and with much concern written into her white face she leant closer to her half masked companion.
         “Have you seen those water merchants tonight?”
         “Ah yes” Tengu said, “one of them left not long ago; Oakey it was…..he might be alleviating himself outside!” Tengu and the turbaned man laughed.
         “Well, I’ve just seen Snitch sneaking around like there were phantoms on his heels; he was going to mines in a great hurry.”
         “The mines? That is something else the innkeeper does not like to mention.” Tengu thought aloud. “We should follow them, who knows Leora san; maybe that is were everybody is tonight?”
         Leora turned to survey the room, which was empty but for themselves and the other travellers who were staying. The innkeeper was looking in their direction as he wiped out a wooden mug, scowling at their secluded whispers.
         “Alright, let’s go and see what secrets the mines of Balbados are hiding.” She smiled before adding; “ It will serve them right for not telling us in the first place!”

         Leaving the horse behind at the inn, Leora and Tengu ran silently through the town until they began crossing the empty expanse between them and the skeletal towers of the winches. Winging his way toward the tall thin remains of mining machines from the past, Seth used his own glamour to become a bat, keeping behind Oakey and Snitch as they waddled along in their haste.
         Strange sounds were coming from the ruins, moans that wavered in strange tones with the rapid chops and rolls of the skinned drums that were pounding from below. A wild animal roared with hunger. Hidden behind the frame of one of the giant winches, Leora’s dark eye and golden hair would emerge to take furtive glimpses at the white-robed guards standing either side of the man-opened caverns below.
         The entrance was set at an angle into the earth, emerging from a mound of slag clay (the shadows of other mounds all around), the flame flickering mouth held open by beams and lintels.

         Seth and the Halflings had already passed through, but not necessarily as suspected. The Sprite had assumed that those two mischievous little folks would have somehow been invited members of the revelry, but instead they did emerge from the shadow side of the slag-mound, climbing it all they way to the top before the robed guards had turned their heads to view something that caught their attention (Leora and Tengu having blocked one of the lights of the town behind them as they appraoched). Seizing the moment, Snitch inverted himself into the mouth of hellish fire with a tumble, landing upright like a cat. Oakey, who had not landed as well, covered his face for fear that he was about to be murdered for his clumsiness. On realization that he had escaped their notice, he unknitted his fingers from his sight and grinned with his mad success, following his brother into the earth.
         Flying between the distracted guards, the tiny bat (Seth) traced his own echoes as they rebounded off the world around him, becoming weaker as they travelled further inside the expanding spaces of the cave he had entered. Crawling with his membrane wings and claws down a spiralling stalactite, he hung over the wondrous performance that was being played out on the uneven floors far below.
         Most of the townspeople were gathered there, clutching at torches and oil lamps, or pounding on their drums as others shook percussion instruments, all calling with fervour and prayer as they formed a circle about the maw of a wide shaft where the light would not enter.
         Boiling steam belched forth from that shaft; the air heavy with its lung-warm dew.
         Closest to the pit, and caught between two flat-sided pillars which he hung from by his spread hands and feet like a cross, a desperate man cried out for the mercy of the hysterical crowd behind him, pleading to be freed at once at any cost they could name.
         A spotted cheetah bared its teeth as it smelt the pheromones of excitement and fear coming in waves to its nostrils, alongside two others with sharp-studded leather collars.
         Having subdued the guards with the sleeping dust found in the ruins, Leora & Tengu where now perched  over the grim scene, watching from an opening above where Seth had flown through. Chiselled steps and footholds spiralled in random ways down to the macabre gathering.
         “What madness is this?” Leora whispered as the pillared man screamed at the echoes of something grinding in the shadow of the opened shaft.
         A small bat flittered away from the spiked formations of the cavern roof and landed on her shoulder, returning to its’ natural form.
         The firelight of the townsfolk was shining eerily over the blind-white eyes of Tengu as he summed up all that was in his vision. Something had stolen his wits and his tongue.
         “Loook!” Seth’s tiny face grimaced as he held onto Leora’s golden hair.
         Steadily rising with the steaming heat, a mottled grey and blue head, lured by the call of its name and the cries from its prey, emerged. The giant square head was in proportion with the whales of the sea; its lower jaw was a flat scoop compared to the overbearing skull and forehead          . Indents of small, screwed-up eyes on either side could only just be made out from where they had witnessed its arrival, but the finer details of the monster where obscured in the cloaking vapours and fumes that bathed its skin.
         Shouting triumphantly at the sight of it, the mixed crowds of rag-dressed people reached boiling point as some of them foamed at the mouth, clawing up at those trying to help them as they spoke in gibberish to unseen ghosts and devas at their sides or dancing over their heads. The drums beat like the heart of an animal fleeing for its life, side stepping this way and that from the hunter that never misses. But in the madness of so many there was some method, or at least organization; Tengu had noticed something in the din of vile worship.
         There was a leader amongst them, adorned appropriately in a white toga that was hemmed with silver threads. There were also armed men, like those resting their heads together outside, who seemed to be equally caught up in the rush of the sacrifice as they upturned their mouths with barbarous words at the man who had been clasped in the metal chains of the pillars, the rotting smell of the last moons offering polluting the air.
         “We should not be here, Leora san.” Tengu spoke.
         Before hearing a reply, he jumped as a long tongue unfolded itself from the opening mouth of the sanctified creature and began to ‘taste’ the offering delicately with its tongue, grunting with pleasure as it wrapped that tendril like muscle around the limbs to secure a firm hold.
         Then, the man was gone, except for the skin of his hands and feet that was still on the manacles.
         Another cheer resounded from the spectators of the pit and cavern.
         Grinding its round stumpy teeth to break up the bones to get to the marrow, the ‘Yuganoth’ (as those below them had called it) cooed to itself. It looked up toward the stalactites, barely illuminated by the torchbearers and their many lights. The tiny brain detected a movement up there somewhere, but its eyesight was too poor to define outlines or colours.
         Tengu, Leora, and Seth didn’t like what they saw, however, as it seemed that it was trying to smell the air in their direction. Before anyone of the priests or their lackeys should also happen to look that way, they made there leave of the mine, hurrying back to the few lamps they could see, showing them the way to Balbados and the Golden Camel.
                             *          *          *

         Waiting behind the hunched old women who had come to collect water from the wells outside of Balbados, Leora sheltered her eyes from the sun as she looked at the patterns of the landscape. Dark lines marked the roads in and out of the town, leading off in all directions to the homes of those like Solomon who no longer lived in the town. Casually observing the spindly remains of the mine winches in the light of day, she heard someone familiar speak from the gathered women there. One of the elderly grandmothers had bumped the arm of another, and as they exchanged apologies she listened until the memory of the attempted robbery in the slums of Ch’arlin flashed in her mind’s eye.
         The girl with the green eyes.
         Having drawn her water and shouldered the double handled pottery jug, Kaia pulled her black head shawl down to cover her face as she passed Leora, who was a mean sight for any thief; all covered with buckled leather under chainmail rings, high boots and shoulder guards, longsword resting by her side.
         There eyes met briefly; Leora studying the half-shadowed visage. The girl skulked past, treading one of the red dusty tracks back to Balbados.

         Returning with her own clay jugs and waterskins, Leora entered the stables behind the Golden Camel to tend to the animals that would again carry them to their destination of Mawran-Jeerkah. As they fed on the dry bails (which were mostly dried cakes of some edible purple cacti) and wet their muzzles in the trough, Leora spoke to them while tying down the saddles and unravelling their bridles. Zhing, the war buffalo, lifted his thick head and horns to enjoy her fingers scratching the lose folds of skin hanging from his neck.

         At dusk, two riders, one on a horse, the other a wide beast burdened with barrels of water, rode out of town. Except for the sounds of pebbles cracking under the metal shoes of the horse, nothing else stirred in a world of coming night. Just before the last rays of the sun went under the west behind them, the monuments and laid stones of a burial ground could be seen ahead. Leora and Tengu had taken the southern road out of the town to avoid anymore contact with the locals and their after-dark customs.
         Waiting for them, just as they had when they first crossed them under the tumble-down signpost, Oakey & Snitch bowed as they came closer on their animals.
         “Commendable.” Said Snitch, which was the first time they had heard a sound come from the rotund little man.
         “Yes, indeed!” Added Oakey as he tipped his hat.
         “What mischief were you all up to in those mines, huh? Feeding such things under the earth!” Leora growled.
         “You do not think that we had anything to do with it, do you?!” Grinned the Halfling brothers.
         “Maybe.” Said Tengu. “But you also entered without the permission of those white robed men.”
         “Of course not! Do you think that respectable folk like us would take part in such filth! Besides, blood sacrifice of two-legged folk and those of mannish relation is forbidden in the nor-western territories.”
         “Well, whatever you two were doing in those mines doesn’t concern us.” Said Leora. “Do you know what we saw down there, coming out of the cave floor?”
         Looking at each other for an answer as the first stars began to shine, Oakey told the riders:
         “It was put there as a punishment for a rebellion some years ago.”
         “Who was the man?” Asked Tengu.
         “The priest, sent here from the capital to restore order earlier in the year; he and his retainers have all been fed to the Yuganoth.”
         “The townsfolk have been forced to worship the monster for generations.” Interrupted Snitch; “The Satrap, Halam; his mind is clouded with opium and demons, continuing the past atrocities of his fathers.”
         “What interest do you two have in this town?” Tengu was puzzled by the actions of the two brothers.
         “Just checking that the Yuganoth hasn’t grown large enough to begin causing any real harm to the trade routes.” Finished Oakey.
         “Don’t linger here any further, good travellers.” Added Snitch. “There is nothing here but superstition and the ills of the past.”

         They passed the monoliths and boulders of the dead ancestors of Balbados, continuing on their way toward the east. Soon, a welcome sight in the bleak plains of rock and clay erosion of the land was beginning to emerge; they knew that it was there because of the flocks of ibis’ and other birds gliding in the air. They would soon be near water.

Chapter 6. Journey of the Caravans.

Days out of the town gone mad, they camped until a passing train of camels and wagons stopped to meet them on their way to the capital. It was Pezak and his men, whom Tengu had befriended during the lonely hours at the Inn of the Golden Camel. Only a small man, Pezak nonetheless drew much respect and knew all the routes and way-stations of Tulphat; his wise brown eyes and leather face where the signs of a widely travelled man, sitting on his camel at the lead of the winding caravans that followed his judgement.
         Not having yet earned the respect of the caravan leaders, Leora & Tengu hitched their rides to the guard carriage at the end of the train. Inside the shade of the covered wagon, three toothless men and another demihuman of goblin appearance sucked on the end of hookah pipes, blowing bitter aromatic smoke like a chimney out the opened rear of the carriage as it trundled over unmarked roads.
         Sitting cross-legged on the wide back of the war buffalo, Tengu laughed with the four others, looking stern at other times as someone would tell of narrow escapes and clashes with the desert raiders and their disorganized cohorts.

         The caravans were much slower than when they had been riding with Rajah, but they were glad of its security, which was displayed to them on their first night with Pezak and his crew.
         Inside the ring of covered wagons, everyone enjoyed a communal meal around the smoky campfire, covering their faces as the wind would change direction and sting their eyes with its soot.
         Leora looked from one canvas covered carriage to the next; each one personally fitted to hold the different cargos’ and quirks of the owners. The one closest to her back had five hands, not all human, nailed and hanging from leather thongs near the rear wheel.
         “Desert raiders; all of them!” Said a turbaned man to the side. “Don’t let them worry you.”
         Dressed in some of the silken black robes once owned by Marmo’xui, Leora was now more feminine by the glow of the fire without her armour, defended with a sword staked into the ground at easy reach.
         “Worry us?” She said. “We have met with trouble of our own before, be assured of that!”          

         After the fires had been dimmed to embers, Tengu joined one of the men as he kept watch of their position in the nearby hills. Sitting atop a rocktoad, the watchman pointed with his spear to the south, which was but a sea of unfathomable shadow before them.
         “Can you see that light out there?” Asked the spearman.
         Barely seen, something flashed in the distant night, moving along the horizon.
         “No one lives out there,…… no one at all.”
         The light continued fading in and out as it unnaturally followed a straight line of progress.
         “My people call them the ‘Glim-Glim’ lights. Strange, no one has ever been harmed by them, but I wouldn’t want to meet one with this in mind anyway.”
         “Has anyone met one?” Tengu asked.
         “No; they always stay the same distance ahead of you, no matter how fast you ride or run.”
         “So, what is out there?”
         “Out there? Nothing but sandstorms and a slow death.”
         Tengu remembered the crossing of the Sea of Dust, the strange light that had guided him to the lost city, as it had Leora.
         “I’ve seen those lights before, further west of here. Cursed things!” Tengu whispered some obscenity in his native tongue. “I must go and make sure of something before it gets too late.”
         “Farewell, Tengu.” Nodded the watchman. The creature below him adjusted itself again before squatting down with its front legs tucked underneath. “Be careful of the Glim-Glim, won’t you!” He laughed as the Shambarrese rogue walked back to the low hills, silhouetted with the low red moon and its’ rings of azure streaked with grey.

         But it was not the Glim-Glim light that had come for them. Nothing but a shadow that contoured with the changing surface of its surroundings, long fingers and nails outstretched, stole past the watchmen, prowling sometimes on all fours with its tail in the air as it crept upon those that slept.
         Wrapped up in his travel blanket, and using his sword casing as a pillow, the shadow fell over the still features of the Shambarrese.
         Tink!
         A string of bells sounded around the prepared rogue, and flicking his single-edged sword into the empty space from whence the shadow had fled he called to alarm Pezak and his men.
         “Something has just entered the camp!” Tengu shouted as he tied his ragged mask over his mouth.
         Not having to be tied to anything for the night to prevent escape, Moonshadow lowered his head as Leora climbed onto his bare back, holding at his mane as she kicked her heels.
         The shadow of the fugitive could be seen running across the black and blue colours of the night, and Leora gave chase, trying to ignore the bone-jarring gallop of her steed as the first of her arrows was notched into the string. Drawing the feathers against her chin, it shot out from her fingers, but the sound of contact was not heard. Two more arrows flew wide of their mark.
         The eyes of the would-be thief looked back at the rider as it scurried, burning green in the starlight.
         ‘What do you want?’ Leora whispered under her breathe, the figure already gone behind some low hills in the south.
                             *          *          *

         Now riding at the front of the caravans with Pezak sitting on the balding hump of his camel, Leora and Tengu paid for their way to the fertile banks of the river Mandha by serving as watchmen. Cross-legged on the canvas roof of the leading wagon, Tengu observed the wastelands passing behind them and the crowds of birds hovering over the bull-rushes of the swampy moist ground ahead with the aid of a rare viewing instrument, made of segments and varying lenses of polished glass. His eye delighted in its sudden displacement of view as it passed the sight-piece. Great distances were now at his beckon, to view.
         Turning his head toward their destination, a rising plume of rolling black smoke was framed in the circumference of the spyglass.
         “There is smoke and fire before us, honourable Pezak!” Tengu called from behind the caravan leader.
         “Bah!, Probably just the leftovers from some unfortunates who were robbed ahead of us.” Pezak creased his leather face in decision, then said to Leora and another man at his left; “Get in front and clear the way for us; if the raiders didn’t find enough they might be on the lookout for more, sons of motherless dogs!”
         After untying the reigns of the war buffalo from her own saddle (Tengu jumping from the wagon to the saddle of his beast as it was loosed), Leora took up her lance from its mount, as they left the main body of the party to scout the roads ahead. The other rider, taking up his own spear, urged his kokosh to keep up with the wild-girl of the west and her spirited horse.          

         The bitter fumes of the fires ahead smelt of blood and tears, and soon Leora was galloping on her charge toward the wreckage of burning wagons and animals scattered along the wayside. Hundreds of arrows littered the ground, some stuck fast in the bodies or broken wood that had survived the flames.
         “I think we are going to be lucky today.” Said the watchman. “This looks like something that happened in the early hours of the morning, those pirates should be miles away by now.”
         “What about those?” Leora asked.
         Tugging at the smouldering remains of a donkey, or using the opened abdomen of a goat as a bowl, a pack of feral dogs became clearer. Loitering in the heat of the day under the aquamarine dome of cloudless sky above, they pricked up their ears and smelt something entering the immediate territory.
         Scrambling from all directions, the snarling pack launched themselves at the two riders, the primitive instincts of preservation and their newly found food inspiring the slathering fury.
         Crawling over the top of one another to get at Leora, Moonshadow waded through the clinging savages, snorting with white eyes as its iron hooves trampled anything beneath with a bone snapping dance. Turning the lance at a downward angle into the fray, Leora pinned two down to the earth, the lance wobbling as she left it in place to draw her longsword. Left and right the howling dogs fell to the steel, flung through the air as Leora’s own fear and fury rose to match the snapping jaws tearing at her legs and mail shirt.
         The other man fell below the waves of teeth, cursing at the monsters in foreign tongues as they shook his limbs like a ragdoll. And maybe it was his lucky day, for as if by miracle the hounds scattered to the four-winds, howling at the arrow shaft and feathers protruding from their hind legs as they limped for their lives.
         Tengu, standing on the platform of his buffalo (so wide it was), laughed after the yelping dogs, shooting a line of arrows behind their tails to keep them running.
         A change of wind levelled the smoke horizontally across the wreckage and dead canines.
         “Tengu!” Leora cheered.
         In response, Tengu raised his bow in triumph at his good timing. Walking beside the mighty Zhing, he lifted the injured watchman onto the cushion-saddle. Eyes already glazed over, his kokosh steed was half chewed in the dirt.
         “Attracted by the smell of all these cooking animals no doubt,” Leora spoke as she pulled out one of the canine teeth that had broken off in her thigh. Torn and bloody from the waist down (Moonshadow fairing no better), she continued; “Most animals are afraid of smoke and fire; they must have been starving to come this close.”
         Dislodging her thin lance from the ground, Leora wiped the sweat and damp blonde hair from her brow as she searched for anything left behind by the raiders, but they had taken everything. Satisfied, she rode back to the west, Tengu already leading Zhing and the wounded man back to the caravans.
                             *          *          *

         The final days of their journey with Pezak and the caravans were more settled, passing over the marshes and following the muddy waters of the river Mandha toward its’ origin in the dam walls of Mawran-Jeerkah, capital of the nor-western deserts.
         Growing larger with their daily approach, the immense architecture and weight of stone used to erect  the walls was beyond anything before witnessed by the blonde warrior and her Shambarrese companion. Three sluice gates, made of so much wood that whole forests must have been felled for their manufacture, where the main features that could be seen from afar, like missing teeth in the white glare of the bricks. Leora imagined that long ago the river would have spilled through a waterworn channel in the cliffs and onto the desert plains before it had been filled in. The dammed river effectively starved the drier south-western deserts of any water, except for the thin streams that leaked through the timber sluice gates in the wall that ended in the marshes and birdlands now distant from them over their shoulders.
         “Here, warrior lady, is Mawran-Jeerkah, the well of the desert and the Caliph.” Pezak noted as towers and bridges could be seen on either side of the dividing waters of the Mandha. “You still won’t tell us why you are so interested in this place, Mm? You certainly have nothing to sell, and the city is crawling with enough sword wielding thugs already, as I have told you; the pay is cheap and dangerous.”
         “I have a message for someone, if I can find them.” She replied.
         “How do you know they are going to be there? Even the tax-collectors have enough trouble trying to find everyone.” The caravan leader laughed.
         “Because he will not dress, nor act like any man in the city.” Leora smiled as she spoke to Pezak.
                             *          *          *

         Five gateways had been chiselled into the base of the cliffs below Mawran Jerrkah, swarming with the outcasts of the city and the soldiers who held them in check to let the caravans pass through to the wealth above. Only three gates remained open on the northside of the limpid waters, where Pezak and the others were waiting in a line of foreign people, bearing retinues and trade on their animals from faraway lands. The other two, southside, had been taken over by the pariahs, who drank the weak waters of the Mandha and begged for any food from travellers entering the tunnels.
         One of these beggars, wrapped in bandages like something embalmed that had come back to life, cupped his dirty hands and long nails to catch the gold coin that Tengu had dropped into his lap.
         “Thankyou kind master!” He wailed. “A thousand blessings upon your head!”
         Sittting cross-legged on his horned beast, Tengu asked the unkempt man why he was outside the gates.
         “They kicked us all out! Accusing us all of murder and thievery in the city! And of supporting ourselves by dishonest means! And being cursed by the gods for having insulted them with our dirty appearance!”
         “Damning accusations they are.” Tengu agreed. “How well do you know Mawran, beggar?”
         “Well enough to know that I’d rather be up there than down here!”
         Showing another obal coin, Tengu told the beggar; “Guide my friend and myself through the city, and there will be more gold like this.”
         With their senses sharpened by hunger and cold, other urchins begged the ninja rogue to take the place of the one he had chosen, telling him of their own merits as they whined for mercy.
         “Back, all of you!” Screamed the captain of the guard over the cacophony of travellers and beggars at the gate, directed toward those that were trying to get closer to the buffalo and the masked one on its back. To add weight to his words, the armoured guard let the axe ended halberd in his hands drop with in breathing distance of the riotous mob.
         “What name are you known by?” Asked Leora, who was further ahead in the waiting crowds.
         “Lantaz, they call me.”
         “Here, Lantaz; come and earn your gold!” Tengu smiled, as could be told by his eyebrows as they creased in mirth.
         “Where do you think your going, dogshit?” Asked the captain, who winded the advancing beggar with the slap of his halberd shaft across the chest.
         “Hey! He is now in our service, honourable sir; let him be.”
         The guard glared at Lantaz, who was trying to catch his breath as he used his twig arms to lift himself, but already having had enough trouble today and not enough pay, he allowed the stinking beggar to leave. To his mind, Tengu and Leora looked to be more trouble than he cared to handle, so he hoped that Mawran might dispose of them in her own way, either by the laws of the Caliph, or by the treachery of their own misfortunate friendship with Lantaz.
         “Here, take this.” Said Tengu as he freed himself of a water canteen that was hanging from his shoulder, “Drink some, you will need the strength so you can help us carry some provisions.”

         Once they had rode under the gateway, the slow trail of caravans and visitors marched the steady incline of the passages, which were overheated and thin of air from the burning torches on the walls and candles that others were using in the barely lit procession toward the surface world. The surfaces of the rock were black with lamp soot, and no one except the beggar Lantaz would dare to tread the animal-stained path.
         Emerging into the bright streets and cleaner air as though they had been reborn from the underground gateway, Leora hesitated at the song of such a populated place. Holding on tightly to the reigns of her horse, she had stopped in the way of others trying to get out of the underground road, lost in the haphazard layers of alleys and bridges dramatically cast in the light and shadow of the late morning sun. Pigeons scattered from the roofs in flocks between the buildings, lines of clothes and unknown meats hung from the windows of narrow clay residences pressed together.
         “Leora san! Come! Quickly, you are holding up those behind you!”
         Swallowing her fear at the alien surroundings and peoples, the armed lady of fair features and her moon-marked steed startled from were they had been frozen on the dirt roads, and without further pause she rode ahead to meet the others.
                             *          *          *

         Bidding farewell to Pezak and his nomadic brothers of the desert, Leora & Tengu found themselves a place of residence in the comfort of the ‘Gambler’s Oasis’, owned by the obese harlot-keeper Feshby, who was paraded through the saloon on a sedan carried by four musclebound youths. The stables for the Gambler’s Oasis were further down the road, occupying an antique stone building on the corner that had been abandoned until its recent purchase by the rich Feshby.
         Leaving Moonshadow & Zhing in the shade of the empty rooms with Seth, who would rarely emerge amongst the realms of men, the two outsiders wandered the bazaars of Mawran-Jeerkah, marvelling at the wares to be seen as Lantaz explained the uses of the various tea pots and religious paintings, and other such things that could be found in the great cities of the North-Western Territories.
         At the end of the markets were the houses and fenced yards of the animal handlers, and most of the morning crowds had bought all the choicest goats, pigs, and beasts of burden. Leora noticed that there were still some horses in the yard however, so she left Tengu and the beggar to continue their search for new armaments.
         Only one of the animals caught her eye; a black stallion with a white star above it’s eyes. Taller than the other bony horses that were brushing away the flies with their tales, their was also a glint of spirit in its spotted blue eyes.
         “Excuse me.” She called to some of the voices she could hear in the stables.
         Shading his eyes as he came into the yard to get a look at the woman that had called him, the sun-darkened horse owner casually walked to the other side of the wooden fence she was leaning on.
         “You are interested in our horses, no?” He smiled. “Maybe you have an eye for that black charger?”
         “Yes, but is he trained?”
         “Oh yes, you see, the last owner of the ‘ol blackie here was a cavalry man. We bought him cheap from some peasants near the Rogue States, since they could not feed the beast. No doubt it has been in battle, young lady; it has that look in its eye.” He winked.
         As though the stallion knew what they were talking about, he eyed Leora and the dealer a glance of questioning, before shaking its mane.
         “What is your first offer?” She asked.
         “Since he seems to like you, I’ll bring my price down to two hundred weights of gold.”
         “But you haven’t fed the poor creature enough! One hundred & fifty!”
         “One seventy?”
         Coming to an agreement over the cavalry horse, Leora entered the paved yard and laid her hands on his head as introduction, before borrowing some rope from the trader so she could fashion a loop to serve as a bit & bridle to lead the animal back to the stables where the others were kept.
         “Be careful now, he has anger, this one.” Warned the dealer.

         Looking out that night across the carved monuments and clustered houses, palatial residences beside funeral pyres burning on rooftops, Leora tried to understand through these sights and smells the meaning of everything around her.
         The captured waters of the Mandha bulged in the centre of her views, lanterns and their muted light guiding the river-crafts and boats, gliding along under the silver of the smaller moon.
         They had returned to the Gambler’s Oasis, after leaving Lantaz to sleep in the stables. Tengu had actually treated the beggar to new clothes and a bath at his own expense, with a view to comforting his simple nature so he would not run off with their animals.
         Turning from the window frame and the picture outside, she was about to ask Tengu why he had growled, at nothing seemingly, until she shared his surprise at his discovery of a murder-hole in the wall.
         Holding back the curtain that had been hanging above the headrest of their fur beds, two cavities large enough for the arms of any assailant were revealed in the walls.
         “What sort of establishment is Feshby san running here!” Tengu snarled.