Leaving the Khard part 1

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I can't decide what I like least," Snow offered, sneaking a glance at the withering noonday sun.

Shepherd Brendan looked at him, interested.

Brumbar only grunted and scowled, but then again, the knight had been grunting and scowling for days.

The drover, Saeed, on the other hand, ignored the lot of them. He was the only Southruner in the group and he seemed unaffected by the heat.

Snow continued his complaint, "I can't decide whether it is the sand in my boots or the glare in my eyes."


"I also find the sand to be vexing," admitted Brendan. "I would stop to empty my boots again, but I feel like I let more sand in than I manage to get out."

The elf retrieved a goat bladder from the camel-drawn wagon creaking between them. He unstopped it and took a long draught before offering it to the knight, who waved him off. He did the same for the priest, who took a draught of his own before tossing the skin back in the wagon.

Saeed waggled a finger as if to warn the priest not to be careless. Brendan inclined his head and spread his hands in apology. The drover went back to his duty.

Snow continued his complaining. "I would say the sand blisters were bad, but they are really the only thing taking my mind off the pain between my temples."

"Saeed's people said this was a forest once," Brendan offered. "Maybe you can find comfort in that."

Snow shook his head in disbelief and kicked at the crumbled rocks and blowing sand beneath his feet. "This was never a forest, priest. There is no magic known that could have transformed a wood into this dry waste -- not in ten thousand lifetimes."

"It could be worse," said Brumbar, suddenly.

He jerked his thumb at the wagon, where the petrified form of Rojer had been tied. To an outsider it would have appeared that the three men were transporting a statue by wagon. Only a closer examination would have shown the lifelike and exquisite detail of this particular "statue."

Brendan laughed. "I would trade places with Rojer in a minute, I believe that he is the safest traveler among us."

Snow nodded in agreement.

Brumbar shook his head vehemently. "Don't make light, what if he can hear?"

Snow chuckled. "Brumbar, his ears are stopped with stone. A man in this state cannot hear." He added, "Believe me."

Brumbar looked unconvinced.

Shepherd Brendan joined in, "Our elf friend is quite correct, Sir Knight. Rojer cannot hear us in his present condition."

Brumbar raised his voice and called out for the benefit of his petrified friend. "Don't worry about these two, Rojer. Once we have a proper wizard in the party, we are going to get this curse reversed."

Snow looked sidelong at the knight and shook his head. "Proper wizard? I notice you haven't impugned the miracle-working powers of your priest. He is no more adept at bringing Rojer back, than I have been."

"Don't be sacrilegious," warned Brumbar, evenly. "What would an elf know of miracles?"

"My friends," quieted Brendan, "Let's not bicker. We have a long journey and I am certain that we will find help at the end of it. It might be that God has lessons in this travail for our friend Rojer."

Snow rolled his eyes. The three men walked along in peace. It was Saeed who broke the silence in his mother tongue.

Snow translated, "Saeed is worried about the clouds behind us."

Brumbar turned around and scanned the horizon behind them. He too saw the dark and gathering storm clouds, but did not linger. He up looked along the ridge of the nearest peak and then out to the party's flanks -- force of habit. "He's never seen a storm cloud?"

"Not like this," offered Snow.

Shepherd Brendan scratched his chin. "Well, I am certain our companions trailing will be feeling the worst of that before we will."

Snow and Saeed exchanged some more words and Snow related their substance. "He says clouds seldom come over the mountains. Those that do are weak and thready. This one is too dark, and too thick."

Brumbar snorted. "I will be glad for rain. Some shade will do us well. Maybe with it we can stop hearing about your headaches, Snow."

The knight turned to see if his jibe had landed and noticed he was the only one still walking. Both the elf and the priest were standing stock still and staring at the dark cloud with something like worry on their faces.

Saeed had stopped the wagon and offered something else in dahlese. The Southruner's tone was a mixture between fear and scolding.

Snow was dutiful. "He says that only three things can make a cloud act like that."

Brumbar stopped walking and took his turn staring.

Snow continued, "He says it is either a god, a djinn or a hanamee responsible."

"What is a hanamee?" asked Brumbar.

No one answered. Instead, Brendan mused, "He thinks this is a Cloud of Vengeance then?"

Snow turned to Saeed and exchanged more words. The drover began to act more animated, waving his arms around and slapping his palm with a balled fist.

"Wait," Brumbar demanded, "What is a cloud of vengeance?"

The knight's question again went unanswered as Snow spoke directly to the priest. "He says this is Alazirim -- but, I don't know that word."

Brendan nodded thoughtfully, "It isn't a word, it is a name."

Brumbar tried again, "Who would name a cloud?"

"The Southruners have a belief in the Law Which Does Not Change," lectured the Shepherd. "This was the gift of their Lawgiver Ruwallah."

Snow and Brumbar listened carefully, but Saeed seemed to recognize the name and chattered excitedly, as if the others could hear him.

Brendan continued. "When Ruwallah came out of the Sea of Glass, proclaiming this Law, the legends say that the 10,000 gods would not obey it. For they believed they were above the laws of men."

Saeed had lapsed into a kind of singing now, more of a soft hypnotic wailing, as if to placate the distant storm while it was still far off.

Brendan looked at his companions. "Ruwallah is said to have visited the Cloud of Vengeance on these gods to punish them and bring them in line."

The three men watched the gathering storm and listened to the Southruner make his strange sounds -- which had turned to chanting.

"It doesn't make sense," Brendan soothed. "We've angered no gods."

Brumbar added, "No djinns either, that I know of."

Snow licked his lips. "What about the hanamee?" he reminded.

Brumbar rested his hand on his sword. "What in God's name is a hanamee?"

Snow answered slowly. "Hanamee are the noble women of Southrun."

Brumbar said, "You mean like the emira?"

Snow nodded.

Brendan added, "Like the emira you promised to help, but betrayed?"

Snow nodded again.

Brumbar folded his arms. "I made no such promise. That was Rojer."

Snow clapped the knight on the shoulder. "Well, let's see if the cloud knows the difference."