Petra.
The old woman threw back her head and laughed aloud, “You’ve never seen a Halfling before?”
The chubby man jerked his head back and opened his eyes wide. Then he turned at looked at Milli more closely. “Why, I’m terribly sorry, young lady. We do not have many of your race here in the Sands but I know they live in Tanta by the Sea. Will you accept my apology?”
Milli folder her arms across her chest and frowned, “I suppose.”
“Please forgive my rudeness but we were quite surprised to see such as you here in the southern territory. I am Manetho, can I offer you and your friends sweets? Coffee or tea?” he said and looked back to the horsemen behind him. “These visitors are now guests of the Black Horsemen. Prepare for a midday supper.”
With these words the nomads immediately dismounted and began to unpack all manner of equipment from their steeds. From one little bag came long sticks, somehow collapsed upon one another that unfolded into supports for a heavy piece of material that was set as a barrier to keep the sand out. Within in a few more seconds they set up a little table with cushions and before Milli could even protest, Manetho took her by the arm and led her to the makeshift shelter. “You look touched by Ras,” he said and pointed to her sunburned skin. “We have a salve that will help with that although I do not carry a large quantity of it.”
“Wait a moment,” interrupted Milli and turned back to the cave. “There are two more of us in the cave. Warriors. We feared you might attack as did the others.”
“Farriders?” said Manetho with a little smile.
“I’m sorry?” said Milli shaking her head.
“Have you not heard of the Farrider nomads?” said Manetho. “You wear their cloaks and symbols. They are the sworn enemy of the Black Horsemen. We are to kill them on site. It is lucky we recognized that you were foreigners or we would have slain you.”
“The Farriders tried that,” said Milli. “But, I have your word that we are safe in your care? My companions will not want to exit the cave without such assurances.”
“You are not familiar with the ways of the nomads of the Sands then,” said Manetho. “I have declared you my guests and no harm will come to you if I can prevent it.”
Milli looked at the chubby man for a moment and saw his plain smile and heard the earnest tone in his voice, “I trust you, Manetho. I am Milli. This is Petra and Dol and Brogus wait in the cave. I will get them.”
“You have strange names, Milli,” he said rolling the word in his mouth but doing a good job of pronunciation. “Dol… Brogus. They do not roll easily from the tongue. Where are you from?”
Petra looked at the nomad for a moment, “I’m from the northern lands near Das’von. We met while traveling in the region and I think they are also from that area although I’m not completely certain.”
“I know of Das’von,” said Manetho in a suddenly quiet tone as the nomads around him also stopped their work and looked at the two. “There are rumors of that great city even here in the Sands. I have declared you guests but I must warn you that such an affiliation might be sorely looked upon by my brothers.”
“We are not representatives of Das’von,” said Petra although the sound of the city’s name again caused the nomads to glance at the duo and murmur amongst themselves. “We have come seeking a region of five volcanoes. We are on a quest.”
“Volcanoes?” said Manetho with a scratch of his chin. “There are no volcanoes in this area although the green lands south of here, Shandoria, are rife with them according to tradesmen. I do not know of an area with five but we can consult the traders and they might be able to help you find this place.”
At that moment Dol, Brogus, and Milli emerged from the cave. The two dwarves were still in full armor and carried their weapons at the ready while Milli smiled broadly and waved at Manetho, “They are a bit nervous. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“Warriors of the Temin,” said Manetho at the sight of the two dwarves.
Dol and Brogus looked at one another but said nothing.
“Are you not from the grand mountain Temin where your kind resides on our western border?” asked Manetho.
Dol shook his head and Brogus replied, “No, we are from the north.”
“Ahh,” said Manetho with a shake of his head. “The only dwarves around here are those of Temin, the Kingdom of the Mountain. Nevertheless, you are welcome in our camp. I am Manetho and we are your hosts. Milli here has told me you are on a quest for the volcanic lands to the south. We might be able to direct you there. And, we owe you a gratitude for slaying Farriders. It was your axe and hammer that achieved this I assume?”
“And my knife,” said Milli pulling out a little dagger and smiling.
“The women of your land fight as well?” said Manetho. “This is good. Our woman fight alongside the men and you will soon see that our little company has two of fair sex,” he indicated with a gesture towards the nomads who continued to set up the camp.
Milli looked closely and did see two smaller figures among them and the way they moved beneath the strange material did seem more feminine. “We slew four of the Farriders but allowed one to go free after we captured him. We were not well equipped to handle prisoners.”
“Alas,” said Manetho with a shake of his head and a little frown. “We sell prisoners to the Golden Worm for a high price.”
“The Golden Worm?” said Brogus, suddenly interrupting the conversation as he came over and hooked his axe to his belt.
“Come,” said the chubby nomad as he looked over to the now finished campsite. The screen blocked off the intensity of the noonday sun but allowed through ample light to see a flat table, resting on the ground and somehow pieced together like a puzzle, soft cushions for seats, a dozen little bowls filled with strange fruits and vegetables that Milli did not recognize, and even little glasses with a milky liquid inside. “Come, eat, drink. Then we will discuss other matters.”
Manetho introduced the four other nomads to the group, two men and two women, but Milli quickly lost track of their names and the fact that only the chubby wizard with his strange amulet understood them and only his words had any meaning to them, quickly forced him to become the center of the impromptu little feast. Milli found that she enjoyed much of the food, while Petra spent a great deal of time watching the cooking methods of the desert nomads and seemed to manage some level of communication as she learned.
The eating, drinking, and small talk went on at a leisurely pace and soon the high noon sun began to descend which brought out lengthening shadows but little in the way of relief from the heat. Manetho gave her a vial of strange smelling solution that she rubbed onto her sunburned face while Dol, Petra, and Brogus did the same. The little amount barely sufficed but Milli did feel an easing to the burning sensation, although, perhaps it was merely her imagination.
Eventually the nomads began to pack up the camp, leaving the screen and seating cushions for last and only then did Manetho broach the subject of the Black Rider and Das’von. “You are from Das’von,” he said to them although he looked carefully at Dol and Brogus as he used the name of the great city. His round face seemed suddenly sharper and his blue eyes narrowed.
“No,” said Brogus. “We are from a citadel not too far away from the city named Helmhigh.” This was the name the dwarf caravans always used when dealing with the other races to avoid the mention of their true home.
“And you are in the Sands to find five volcanoes?” asked Manetho.
“Yes,” said Dol suddenly perking up and paying attention. “Five volcanoes right next to one another along the sea.”
“I will take you back with us to our encampment,” said Manetho, “and our tradesmen might be able to help you locate this place. However, there are many rumors about Das’von here in the south and about a man named Corancil. Do you know anything about this?”
Dol nodded his head, as did Brogus, although Milli and Petra kept silent. The four nomads finished packing away the material of the camp and then simply lay down on the hard earth and seemed to nap.
“We do know a little,” finally ventured Milli with a small smile.
“You will tell me?” said Manetho and it seemed a question rather than a statement although the good humor of their recent dining experience seemed but a distant memory in the suddenly highly charged atmosphere.
“He is a powerful conqueror. We’ve been told he is assembling an army to invade the southern lands,” but that is really about all we know,” said Milli with a shrug of her shoulders. “We were only in Das’von for a little
