62: Ekavir Goes To Daha (Patreon)

The night passed without Vir having gained much sleep. He lay awake, wondering about Maiya, her beaded bracelet clutched in his hand. His upcoming birthday present, most likely. It was simple, yet beautiful. Typical Maiya. To think she’d put all this effort into crafting this for him—it was special in a way that only Maiya could be.

Which was why he couldn’t possibly fathom why she hadn’t at least left a note behind. If she’d said where she was going, he could have followed. But now…

Now he had no choice but to journey to Daha. To the capital, where the princess lived. The journey would take him east, to the Saran-Daha highway, then south to the capital.

Even on Ash’va, the journey would take a day and a half of hard riding.

Vir gazed at his empty rucksack, then relented and finally hauled himself out of bed, eyeing the empty one across the room where Maiya slept. The thing wasn’t going to pack itself.

The room was still dark—dawn was still a few minutes away, but It would be best to leave early. There was nothing left for him here anymore.

Neel snored peacefully on Maiya’s bed. The bandy had appropriated it the moment he saw her leave.

Packing his rucksack was not as simple of an affair as it seemed. The bag had a finite capacity, and while Bumpy had panniers, he’d already filled most of those with water and his thick, heavy blanket. Besides, it was best to keep the essentials on him, lest he get separated from the beast.

He’d already prepared everything beforehand, so all that was left was to pack them.

Vir began by stuffing his three sets of disguise clothing into the bottom of the pack, followed by his mask—a recent addition to his suite of disguises—a tinder bundle, some flint, and steel. All things he wouldn’t need immediately. He worked his way up, packing small jars of cloves and neem leaves to use as antiseptics, as well as a needle and thread, packing it all in with socks and other squishables.

Nuts, dried berries, fresh fruit, and a couple of sandwiches came next, along with Neel’s food. Finally, his makeup kit—easily accessible in case he needed to hastily reapply it. That was especially important, as he’d applied makeup to his hands and forearms as well to give them a more normal pigmentation.

“Let’s go, Neel,” he said, coaxing the bandy awake.

As he walked through the silent hall lit by the warm glow of Magic Lamps with Neel, he realized he wasn’t alone. Riyan stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the front door.

How long has he been standing there? Vir wondered.

“I see you are ready,” the big man boomed. “Have you packed enough provisions?”

“I have. All the essentials, plus my weapons and my makeup kit, of course.”

Over the past months, Vir’s training had shifted to focus as heavily on combat as it did mastering the art of deception through face painting, body language, and speech. He now rivaled Maiya in that area.

“Yes, about that,” Riyan said, picking up a cloth-wrapped package by his feet. “Take this.”

Vir carefully unfolded the cloth, revealing a gleaming steel katar within a leather holster. While it looked well used, sporting knicks on the hilt, its blade was pristine, with no signs of rust at all.

“My old katar. While basic, its steel blade is sharp and sturdy. This weapon has served me well. May it aid you in your endeavor.”

“T-thanks,” Vir said, tying the holster around his right hip. Now he had katars on both sides of his waist. Two iron chakrams were draped around his neck, with a half dozen chakris worn as bracelets on each arm. He was as armed as he’d ever been.

The only thing he lacked was armor; his fabric trousers, white full arm, and woolen jacket wouldn’t do much to protect him in combat. While his agility-based fighting style didn’t really require armor, he was planning on buying something light at Daha. Once he could afford it, of course.

“Would you, uh, be able to spare any coin? I’ll need a place to stay for a few days before I can find a means to earn for myself.”

Riyan threw Vir a wry smirk. “What of all the coin you’ve stashed in those caves? I’d imagine you would have more than enough to cover costs, wouldn’t you?”

He knew!? Vir did his best to hide his surprise, but failed.

“Come now, did you really think I wouldn’t notice coin and supplies disappearing from my own home? You steal from me, and now you ask for coin?” he roared. “No. I will not punish you for this, but you will have to fend for yourself. I think you are more than up to the task.”

Vir pursed his lips and nodded, grateful that the man had let him off so easily. Then again, taking action against Vir would only hurt his own goals, so the man’s hands were tied.

He swept one last gaze across the home. Though he’d only spent a single year here, it had felt like so much longer. He’d experienced so many memories here, with Maiya, with Neel, and even with Riyan. The journey to Saran, to Brij, these were memories he’d cherish for the rest of his life.

Burning every last detail of the home into memory, he stepped outside with his trusty friend in two. He doubted he would ever return here again.

“I guess this is it, then,” Vir said as he mounted Bumpy. Neel hopped up onto the rear passenger’s saddle and made himself at home.

“Indeed. Goodbye, Vir. May Vera be with you.”

Riyan’s well wishes surprised Vir. The man had long ago given up his faith in the gods, after all.

The sky was just beginning to glow as he set out, bound for the caves to the south of the abode. Riyan had been exactly right. Over the past year, Vir and Maiya had both snuck supplies and coin out to the cave stash. They thought they’d been discreet about it, but clearly not discreet enough to avoid Riyan’s hawk-like attention.

“C’mon boy,” he said. Neel hopped down and nuzzled his shin.

Vir walked into the cave, Prana Vision guiding his steps. Neel stuck close to Vir. The bandy was nearly blind in this pitch darkness, but Vir hadn’t been idle these past few months. He’d trained Neel to the level of those attack bandies in the Godshollow. Part of that training was operating in darkness. So long as his body brushed up against Vir’s legs, Neel could navigate well enough.

Arriving at the cache, Vir moved the rock that covered their hidey hole.

Of the single Imperium silver and forty coppers they’d appropriated from the Saran trip, Vir took the silver, leaving all the coppers, placing them in a fabric sack. He also took Rudvik’s twenty coppers, more for sentimental value, keeping them in a separate sack right up against his body.

He wouldn’t spend that money unless his life depended on it—and maybe not even then. The money and the charcoal sketch were his only memento of his father. He treasured them as much as his own life.

He left behind the rest of the Saran money, along with the blanket, sacks of nuts, dried fruit, and some clothes. For Maiya, in case she ever came back and needed it.

Still, a single silver wouldn't go very far in the capital. If he wanted to stay there for any length of time, he'd need to find a job, and fast.

Vir swore under his breath that Riyan would get what was coming to him. He held mixed feelings, since the man had saved his and Maiya’s life, and had indeed housed, protected, and taught them. Without him, Vir would be as weak and vulnerable as he was a year ago.

And maybe the princess wasn’t a kind soul. Maybe ridding the world of her would be a boon. Even so, Vir refused to be a pawn in anyone’s plan.

The two of them returned to Bumpy and struck east. Neel slept off while Vir lost himself in his thoughts. The desert chill turned pleasantly warm, then unbearably hot in less than an hour, forcing Vir to shed his jacket.

No pirates accosted him and no one heckled him, because he was utterly alone out in the desert. But that brought with it its own set of concerns; a single heading miscalculation could send him in entirely the wrong direction. Many travelers perished in such a way.

Luckily, the Saran-Daha highway ran mostly north-south. So as long as he traveled in an easterly direction, he’d hit it.

Sure enough, the packed dirt road came into view in a few scant hours, right before the sun reached its zenith.

Turning south, Vir sped up, the deep sand no longer there to hamper Bumpy. It wasn’t before long that he caught sight of other travelers, bound north to Saran, and slower caravans headed to Daha. Those, he overtook.

Desert gave way to endless plains, and just when Vir thought it best to take a break, he hit trouble.

Ever since he was young, Vir had heard of stories of highwaymen accosting travelers. But he’d stopped believing in them when every single tale was nearly identical.

Surely, they must be making this up? They’re just copying each other!

And yet, before his very eyes, a scene from those tales played out.

A group of four ruffians had waylaid and surrounded a wagon driven by a man and his wife. Except, unlike the tales, there were no threats of death here. No tension at all. In fact, all parties seemed quite relaxed.

“Give us yer coin, and we’ll be on our way,” one of them said in a bored voice. He hadn’t even unsheathed his talwar.

To Vir’s surprise, the wagoner didn’t even resist. He reached for his coin, as if paying a merchant and not a bandit out to kill him.

“Neel,” Vir muttered. The bandy immediately perked up. “Sic ‘em.”

With a single command, Neel jumped off of Bumpy and sailed through the air, laying his fangs into the nearest bandit. The man went down, clutching his neck, crying out in pain.

The other three looked on with shock for several seconds before reacting. It was a fatal mistake.

Bumpy charged the other man, who stood frozen in shock. The Ash’va’s head collided with the man, tossing him aside like a rag-doll.

Vir leaped off the animal, tackling the third man. He didn’t even need to attack—the man’s head hit the dirt, sending straight to the land of the unconscious.

Vir stood up to find Neel’s prey still clutching his neck. A strike with the flat of his katar sent the man joining his friends on the ground.

The last one, finally 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 began searching 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 either 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 and found 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 feeding 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 makeup!” 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 a force to be reckoned with. 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, but found 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 its 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 seemed suspicious about the group, so he continued packing his things.

He’d just finished feeding Bumpy some water and was about to head out when one of the caravaners left their group to approach 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 that this man was no warrior.

“Do you have business with me?” Vir asked the man, 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 up 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 Ravali.

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’d realized belatedly that he’d 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.”

“Oho? An interesting tradition indeed!” Param replied, buying Vir’s lie.

Occasionally, a kid would peek out and stare at him. But whenever he waved back, they’d go back and hide, which made him smile.

“They are shy, but they warm up eventually,” Param said.

“And when they do, you’ll wish they hadn’t. You won’t be rid of them!” Ravali added with a chuckle.

Vir smiled graciously. “So you’re based out of Saran?”

Param shook his head. “No, Daha. We are returning from a local run to Saran. Soon, we will be bound east for the Kin’jali capital of Sonam.”

“Oh?” It meant Param likely knew a great deal about the city. He’d be a chal to let an opportunity like this slip by.

“So, tell me about Daha. What’s it like?”

“You’ve never been?” Param asked.

“First time.”

A grin spread upon Param’s face.

“Oh, do I have stories for you, friend! I think our trip is going to go quickly. Yes, indeed!”

When Rayali gave Vir a look of deep pity, he realized he’d made a horrible mistake.

My ears are going to regret this, aren’t they?