“Yep,” said Brogus as he continued to smile widely.
“And wipe that grin off your face,” said Petra. “If it wasn’t for me we never would have made it this far.”
Brogus continued to smile. An hour later, just as the sun began its long climb to the zenith of the sky, they found a small cave in the rocky hillside. They all went into together and set down their gear before Petra went out to gather some of the strange plants that grew in the region. They had learned, through trial and nausea, what plants were tasty and which were toxic.
“It must rain sometimes,” said Petra as she returned with an armload of the little green pads that grew on the plants all over the desert. “These plants can’t exist without water at all. I bet they have a big rainy season and then it’s stored up to survive the rest of the year. It probably happens in autumn and maybe again in spring. I bet it gets cold in winter. It gets cold enough at night and this is summer.” With this observation, to which no one replied, she busied herself with scraping off the needles while Dol and Brogus ignited a little fire with some of the scrub they harvested earlier.
“It does get pretty cool at night,” said Brogus stripping off his heavy chain shirt and preparing some bedding for the long day. “I never would have thought it but it’s true.”
“Hey!” said Milli from the cave mouth. “I see some dust over there.”
Petra and Brogus immediately rushed to the entrance of the little cave while Dol stayed at the fire and gently twisted the hammer round and round. The three peered out over the seemingly endless desert while little Milli stood in front and pointed. Petra, the tallest of the trio stood behind her, and Brogus tried to wriggle his way past the tall woman. “Riders,” said the witch with in a low tone. “They’re coming from the direction of the black horse symbol.”
“Do you think we should say hello,” said Milli looking back over her right shoulder to the Petra. “I mean that is who we’re supposed to spy on.”
“We could ambush them like we did the first group,” suggested Brogus and looked back towards his weapon and armor on the floor of the stone cave. They lay neatly arranged so that he might grab and use them at a moment’s notice. He learned this particular habit a long time ago from his father and older brothers in the dwarf citadel. Even in the secure environment of Craggen Steep darkling forces attacked from the realm below on occasion and the mining operations were always at risk. The darklings were a cruel, torturous lot that captured dwarves for slave operations beneath the ground. Dwarves were strong miners and the darklings worked them to death building new tunnels for their endless warrens.
“We don’t want to kill them,” said Milli looking at the burly dwarf. “They might know the Black Horseman.”
“They might be violent, like the first group,” said Brogus and watched as Dol slipped back on his armor and fingered the hammer at his side. “We don’t want to meet them out in the open with those horses. We wouldn’t stand a chance. We should lure them here to the cave like before.”
“They’ll not pass close enough,” said Petra judging their movement and direction with a practiced eye.
“If we flag them down then we lose the element of surprise,” said Brogus with a look back towards his axe again.
“If we don’t then we’re back to wandering in the desert running out of food and water,” said Milli tapping her foot on the rocky ground.
“She,” said Brogus with a nod at Petra, “can find us plenty of food and the map shows where the water is.”
“So you propose to wander around in the desert for the rest of our lives,” said Milli with a shake of her head. “Think Brogus. We have to contact someone and those riders are the best option we have.”
“You’re smarter than me, Milli,” said Brogus with a frown. “If you think that’s what we should do, then let’s do it.”
“Dol?” said Milli with a look back to the dwarf who, by now, stood fully armored and ready for battle.
He shrugged, “Either way. I have my mission.”
Milli turned away with a snort. “He’s going to be no help at all unless we get in a fight. I say we wave to the riders. Petra?”
The witch woman gauged the distance of the riders to their location, put her hand to her chin, and eventually nodded her head, “I think you’re right Milli. The other choice is to wander endlessly and if we’re in another tribe’s territory this map is probably not all that useful.”
“Go ahead, Brogus,” said Milli and turned to face the dwarf warrior.
“Should I put on my gear first?” he asked with another longing look back to the cave.
“It’ll take them some time to get here,” said Milli looking back and forth to the riders and Brogus. “Wave them down and then gear up.”
Brogus moved passed Milli to the front of the little cave and began to wave his arms up and down although for some time it proved impossible to tell if the riders noted or not. After a bit of this, Milli gave him a long white cloak, another item stolen from the first band of nomads, to wave. It was surprisingly lightweight for its strength and she was eager to know the secrets to its weave.
“My arms are tired,” said Brogus after long minutes of waving.
“They see us,” said Petra. Despite her age, her eyes were as sharp as a young girl’s and well experienced at judging distances and objects. “They’ve broken into two groups. One continues in the same direction and the second heads towards us.”
“That’s it then,” said Brogus and stopped waving his arms and rushed back into the cave to put on his armor and grab his weapon. “Dol, are you ready?”
Dol nodded his head and smiled as he felt the heat of the hammer handle spread through his hands.
Petra watched as the little clouds of dust coalesced into shapes, then to a group of riders, and finally into individual horsemen. Their gear appeared similar to the first group although this band had a short banner that snapped in the stiff breeze brought on by the speed of their horses. The dust obscured her vision but an occasional glimpse convinced the witchy woman that it depicted a black horse on a sandy background. In the end she badly misjudged the tremendous speed of the horses by their apparently slow approach because before she fully realized it they were suddenly close by and the pounding sound of their hoof beats sounded like thunder.
All of the horses suddenly pulled up twenty yards short of the little cave although neither Petra nor Milli saw anyone give any sort of signal to indicate a halt. One horse, a spirited animal, gray in color with black eyes, broke off from the group and headed towards them. It was guided by a rider cloaked in the lightweight, yet sturdy material they now wore themselves. A thin piece of cloth, apparently the same material, covered his nose, mouth, and chin, although his piercing blue eye were easily apparent as he looked them over. He said something in a strange language and Milli held up her hand in what she hoped might appear a peaceful gesture.
The rider spoke again and his hand went to a curved blade at his side.
“We are strangers and do not speak your language,” said Milli, her high-pitched Halfling voice sounding clear and crisp in the hot desert air. “We come to see the Black Rider.”
The man looked down from atop his tremendous horse. The thing almost seemed to breathe fire to Milli and she could hardly give credence to the idea that this was a similar species to the mule she rode not so long ago. It was heavily muscled in the chest but lean in the flanks with long legs and a regal, aloof look in its eyes. The man aboard it said something in that strange language and then pulled off the cloth that covered his face.
He stared at the pretty Halfling girl for long seconds as neither of the two averted their gaze. Then he suddenly smiled with shining, white teeth and laughed. He leaned back on his mount and shouted something to one of the other riders who immediately dismounted and began to rummage under his cloak as he walked over.
The newcomer bobbed his head and similarly pulled the cloth from his face and also removed the wide brimmed hat from his head which proved to be bald as an egg. Milli noted he was rather short and a bit round around the middle although hardly fat. He said something to the girl and although his tone was pleasant she could still not understand him. Eventually he pulled a little silver amulet out from one of the many compartments apparently hidden in the cloak and slipped it over his head, “Can you understand me now?”
“Yes, yes I can!” said Milli with a bright smile and actually jumped up and down a few times. “Can you understand me?”
The nomad nodded his head, “Indeed I can, little girl. Is this your daughter?” he said with a look at
