The Darkness Before the Dawn - By Ryan Hughes Page 0,10
elves, finally settling in with the half-dozen elderly women who walked with silent determination through the cooling sand. Jedra didn’t know for sure, but he suspected if any of them faltered, they would simply be left behind. That would explain their perseverance.
There were no elderly men. The tribe’s chief was the oldest male Jedra had seen, and he was barely half the age of some of the women. He was still in excellent shape, too; even with his limp, it was he who set this breakneck pace. Jedra supposed most elven men died in battle or in hunting accidents long before they reached old age. Not an encouraging thought.
But then he wouldn’t be traveling with the Jura-Dai for long. As soon as they reached a city where he and Kayan could arrange for more conventional transportation they could continue their search for a psionics master in relative safety and comfort. Jedra had the money he’d taken from Dornal, the dead mage. There was enough silver and gold in the leather pouch to provide for two travelers for at least a year if they were frugal, and Jedra was an expert at that. He also had the mage’s charm bag full of spellcasting amulets and fetishes, which was of no use to a psionicist but might be worth quite a bit to another sorcerer. Yes, Jedra thought, if he and Kayan survived the next few days they should be all right.
When the stars came out and the elves kept on marching, neither Jedra nor Kayan was at all sure what would come to pass, but finally, just as they were about to collapse right on the trail, the tribe came to a halt and began pitching tents.
Numbly, like the shambling undead that sometimes plagued the cities after a magical battle, they helped erect the community tent, then lined up with the rest of the tribe for a welcome dinner of honeycakes and erdlu eggs. Jedra ate his egg raw, as was the elven custom, slicing open the leathery shell and sucking out the interior in hungry gulps. Its spicy tartness revived him a little, so he went over to the campfire after he finished eating rather than going straight to bed. It was cold enough now that a few minutes in front of a fire before turning in would feel just right. Kayan joined him, and they sat in the sand beside two young girls, who immediately began asking questions about their lives in the city.
Suddenly Jedra wished he had opted for bed instead. The elf girls were young and curious and hardly tired at all; their steady barrage of questions and the foreigners’ answers drew more and more attention until everyone around the fire was listening to their tales of life in the city of Urik.
Kayan’s description of her days as psionic healer among the templars drew a mixture of hostility and wonder. None of the elves—save maybe Galar—had ever come close to a sorcerer-king’s palace, much less lived right next to one. It was clear that most of the elves didn’t believe half of her descriptions of the riches she had enjoyed, especially the lush gardens the king kept hidden behind his palace walls.
Jedra’s life on the streets was easier for them to understand, and in many ways more exciting. He recounted a few of his more audacious exploits in the market, and as he began warming to the subject he embellished things a bit, claiming for himself a few incidents that he had only witnessed or heard about. He was just getting to the good part of a complete fabrication about how he’d saved a noblewoman from a crazed gladiator when a sudden blow to his back sent him sprawling in the sand beside the fire.
His street instincts belatedly kicked into action. His loose robe nearly tangled him up, but he pulled it tight in front of him and rolled sideways to avoid a kick or a weapon blow, then leaped to his feet, ready to run or fight, whichever was required. It was the exact wrong thing to do; when his vision cleared he saw Sahalik standing before him, his arms crossed over his burly chest.
“Oops,” Sahalik said in his deep voice. “I didn’t see you there, hero.” Then he sat down next to Kayan.
A few of the other elves laughed, and someone called out, “Ooh, don’t let him get away with that!”
“Yeah,” someone else said, “show him what you did to the gladiator!”