The Darkness Before the Dawn - By Ryan Hughes Page 0,6
light to see by but not enough to keep anyone awake. In their soft light, Jedra could see that the tents, unlike the clothing the elves wore, were grayish tan, the color of sand, so they would blend in with the desert.
More sleeping mats waited in a pile near the doorway, each tucked into a knapsack with a name or a design woven into the closing flap at the top. Galar searched though the stack, pulling two knapsacks from it and handing them to his friends. They were made of heavy, durable cloth, and the mats rolled up inside them were even thicker. Both showed signs of wear along the exposed edges.
“Won’t their owners miss them?” Jedra asked as Galar sorted through a basket of clothing beside the pile of bedrolls.
“Not any longer,” Galar said. “These belonged to people killed in the battle. They are the property of the entire tribe now.”
“Oh.” Jedra looked at his knapsack again. He couldn’t read the elven script, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he could. He didn’t know any of the people who had died today. So why did he suddenly feel reluctant to sleep on this mat?
Galar noticed his concern and said, “Do not trouble yourself. Everything has its cost, and the Jura-Dai knew that before they attacked the caravan. We all live and die for the good of the tribe; without raids such as these we would soon starve to death in the desert.” He pulled a long yellow robe out of the basket and held it up to Kayan. Made for an elf, it was about three feet too long for her. “You will have to tuck a fold under the belt to avoid tripping,” Galar said, “but there is plenty of cloth here to keep you warm at night, and the light color and the looseness of it will help keep you cool by day.”
“That will be nice.” Kayan took it from him and draped it over her shoulders. Galar pulled a light blue robe from the basket for Jedra, then waved an arm toward an unoccupied stretch of floor near one wall of the tent. “Sleep well,” he said, “but not too well. We break camp at dawn.” With that, he turned and left them to their rest.
They stepped gingerly over sleeping elves to the bare spot and unrolled their mats. Jedra lay back on his with an audible creaking of joints. Ok, this feels good, he mind-sent to Kayan.
She had turned her back to him and was fussing with something under her robe. A sudden warmth spread over Jedra when he realized she was removing her halter and breechcloth.
And she knew just what he was thinking. Don’t you go getting ideas, she sent to him. This cursed leather itches, that’s all. I’ll sleep better without it.
Of course, Jedra sent. He refrained from adding, Never mind that I’ll not sleep at all now…
Fatigue soon proved him wrong. He closed his eyes to give her more privacy, and when he opened them again the tent wall beside him was aglow with the first light of day.
* * *
The elves broke camp within minutes of rising. Nobody stopped for breakfast; they just rolled up their mats, collected their other personal belongings and stuffed them into their knapsacks, then packed up the tents and other equipment, tied it all onto the kanks, and set off into the desert at a brisk walking pace. They didn’t follow the road, but headed straight over the dunes to the west. They spread out in a long string, the scouts and faster walkers in the lead, and the rest trailing back for nearly a quarter mile. Warriors armed with swords and longbows scattered themselves along the line to provide protection for everyone in case of an attack. Nobody rode the kanks—elves considered that dishonorable—but after the first few miles the adults began to trade off in carrying the younger children. Even so, Jedra found himself pushing to keep up, and Kayan with her shorter legs was sweating and straining even harder than he was.
Neither of them complained. Traveling with the elves, even at their breakneck pace, was infinitely preferable to fending for themselves in the desert. They had already encountered the remains of two of the caravan’s drivers who had set off along this same route last night; their skeletons rested halfway up the face of a dune less than a mile from the road, their bones already picked clean and cracking in the dry