The Nomad - By Simon Hawke Page 0,18

when they stopped to rest during the day, the heat was so intense that moisture had to be replaced. Ryana’s lips were parched and cracked, and it had been all she could do to put one foot before the other. Sorak had offered to carry her, but she refused to burden him. Exhausted and at the utter limit of her resources, she still had her stubborn pride.

As soon as they had reached the foothills, they stopped to rest, and Sorak dug a shallow depression in the ground. He used a druid spell to draw water up out of the sandy soil. Ryana could have done it, but she lacked the strength. It took a while for the liquid to percolate up through the soil, because the water table was far below the surface. Once it did, he watched to make sure that Ryana took only small sips.

She crouched on hands and knees to drink, then sat up and sighed, wearily and gratefully. “I never thought that dirty water could taste this good,” she said. “It was still a little salty, though.”

“We should be able to find better water once we get up into the mountains,” Sorak said.

“I think I could sleep for at least a week,” Ryana said, stretching out on her back and shading her eyes with her arm.

“Do not fall asleep yet,” Sorak told her. “We are still out in the open here. I will feel safer once we find some cover.”

She groaned. “Can’t we rest here for just a little while?”

“Of course,” he said, relenting. “But we must be moving on soon. We will make camp among those rocks up there, where we should find both shade and shelter.”

She looked in the direction that he indicated and sighed once more. “Sometimes I wish I were an elf,” she said.

Sorak smiled. “Elves are carnivorous, remember. And they have great, big, pointed ears.”

“Well, an elfling, then,” she said. “Then I could be like you, resist my flesh-eating impulses, and have ears with only little points.”

“On you, they would look most attractive,” Sorak said.

“That’s right, flatter me when I’m weak and have no strength to respond,” she said.

“It is safer that way,” he replied. “Ouch,” she said. “It hurts to smile. My face is so dried out it may crack.”

“I will find some cactus and pulp it so that you may spread it on your skin.”

“Ohhh, that would feel wonderful. Now if only we could find a small stream that I could wash in!”

“I shall do my best,” said Sorak.

“You remember that stream that ran down from the spring by the convent?” she said.

He smiled. “Yes, I remember. We all used to bathe there every day, after our weapons training sessions.”

“I remember the bracing, cold water of the pool, and the way the stream ran down over the rocks below,” she said. “I can almost feel it now. I took it all for granted. The stream, the forest, the cool and refreshing mountain breezes… I had never truly realized how dry and desolate our world is.”

“You miss the Ringing Mountains, don’t you?” he said.

“I shall always think of them as home,” she replied. And then she added, quickly, “But I am not sorry I came.”

Sorak remained silent.

“Do you wish I had remained there?” she asked softly after a moment.

Sorak did not reply at once, and she felt a sharp pang of anxiety. Finally, he said, “A part of me does, I suppose. And I am not referring to any of the tribe. I mean that part of me wishes you could have been spared all this.”

“I made the choice to follow you of my own free will,” she said.

“Yes, I know. And I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am to have you with me. But I also cannot help thinking sometimes of the life you could have led had it not been for me.”

“Had it not been for you, I do not think I would have had much of a life,” she replied, gazing at him earnestly.

“And I cannot imagine my life without you,” he said.

“But if the Elder Al’Kali had never brought me to the convent, we never would have met. You would have i grown up among the sisters, and by this time, doubtless you would have replaced Tamura as weapons and combat trainer. You would have had the love and respect of all your fellow sisters, and you would have continued to live in that verdant valley high in your beloved Ringing Mountains, a