unintentionally. We wanted to be in the five volcano region.”
“Greetings,” said the darkling. “As I said, your people, the dour miners, the dwarves, and my people, the darklings, have had many… difficulties over the years. I hope you will not hold me personally responsible for these troubles.”
Dol released his grip on the handle of the hammer but Brogus kept his hand on the hilt of his axe. “I have battled darklings of all shapes and sizes,” said Brogus and ignored Milli who stomped on his foot. “They make slaves of my friends, kill my brothers,” he continued and his eyes suddenly blazed with anger.
“That they do,” came the voice of a rotund man as he ambled into the room from some hidden chamber in the folds of silk that seemed to fall down all around them. “However, this particular darkling came to me all but dead after an encounter with his own kind. I’ve found, after years of mutual acquaintance that he is a reasonable man and you would be wise to listen to his advice.”
“We’re listening,” said Milli with a glare at her companion. “Behave yourself, Brogus. We’re guests. We represent Manetho.”
Brogus pulled his arm away from Milli and glared across the divide at the darkling although his gaze shifted back and forth to the fat newcomer as well.
“You come from the north,” said Ming his face expressionless as he dabbed at another piece of parchment with his quill. “There are armies gathering to the north and I would like to learn of them. In exchange I might be able to help you travel to this volcanic region of which you speak.”
“That sounds fair,” said Milli with a wide smile as she tilted her head slightly to the side and pushed her breasts up towards the darkling.
“So, you ended up here accidently,” said the fat man with too broad a smile.
“Tahnoon,” interrupted the Black Rider, “Our guests have just arrived after days of difficult travel. Their skin is not accustomed to the heat of the desert. Let them sit, eat, drink, and enjoy themselves before we confront them with accusations.”
Tahnoon frowned and a sour expression came across his face, “As you will, Ming. As you will. Honored guests, please, partake of the food and drink. I wish you health and happiness.”
“Thank you,” said Milli with a little curtsy that seemed to puzzle Ming, Tahnoon, and Manetho who looked at one another but said nothing.
Brogus flumped down on the floor while trying to keep his hand on the hilt of his axe and almost fell over sideways as he lost his balance. Dol sat down carefully, making sure to keep the head of the hammer resting on the thick leather strap that kept it from rubbing against him. There had been several incidents in the first weeks of travel where the hammer rested against combustible materials for too long and started to smoke. So far no fires were the result of the carelessness but he took more care now. Milli sat down daintily on a little cushion and reached out to one of the clay pitchers and hesitated before pouring herself a glass.
“That is a fruit tea,” said Manetho, “not too dissimilar from what we had at our first meeting but perhaps with more of a crisp and sweet flavor.”
Milli smiled broadly and poured herself half a cup while Manetho, Ming, and Tahnoon made their way to the table. Petra also sat down and completed the table which was apparently set with seven in mind. Tahnoon clapped his hands and half a dozen rather scantily clad young women instantly appeared, although from where remained a mystery, and began to serve the food and drink.
“I must apologize for my rude friend,” said Ming with a motion to Tahnoon. “Tahnoon is concerned about the security of my realm. The news of armies gathering in the north has him somewhat jittery. I am Sheikh Ming and you already know Manetho, a wizard of my court. It is fortunate he was with the patrol that encountered you or I’m afraid the language barrier might have caused confusion and possibly ended in violence.”
“I am Milli, this angry fellow is Brogus, this is Dol, and this is Petra. Thank you for sharing your tent with us. It was indeed a long and hot journey. We did not come to your lands prepared for the terrible heat of your desert.”
Petra spoke for the first time as she looked carefully around the tent for magical totems. If any lurked, hidden in the folds of silk, she could not spot them but the place had the whiff of powerful magic about it, “How is it that we can all understand one another here? Is there some enchantment on the tent itself?”
Tahnoon bellowed out a laugh, “The witches of the north are as perceptive as those of the south. Yes, this tent is a meeting place for the many nomadic tribes that roam the desert. Of late we’ve had many meetings with the other tribes…”
Ming stopped further discourse with a look at the rotund fellow who stopped in mid-sentence. “I’m terribly sorry, great lord. I did not mean to speak out of place.”
“It is no secret that we’ve had meetings with the other nomads of the Sands,” said Ming with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’ve given away no state secrets but in the future you should drink less and talk the same.”
“As you will,” he said and managed to somehow bow from his seated position. “You are most perceptive, Petra was the name?”
“Yes, and you are Tahnoon?” said the witch with a smile at the fat fellow.
The fat man nodded his head as he quaffed a generous amount of red liquid that he poured himself from a tall glass decanter a moment before. “I am Tahnoon the fat,” he said with a laugh as a little dribble of the red liquid leaked from the corner of his mouth. “Would you care for some Bloodreaver Red?” he asked and waved the decanter at the group. “The Bloodreavers were a powerful nomadic tribe that used to patrol the territories to our north. That was before Sheikh Ming began to organize our fighters.”
“I’ll have a glass,” said Brogus although he still wore a suspicious look on his face. “You don’t have any beer by any chance?”
“We brew a sweet malt here in the desert, from a particular plant, but it is not to the taste of all.” said Tahnoon and he clapped his hands again, “It comes from a flowering plant called Agava.”
A moment later a girl came out with a heavy pitcher and another carried several thick metal mugs that bore the stamp of a hammer superimposed upon a mountain.
“Those are dwarven made,” said Brogus as his eyes opened wide to examine the thick beer steins. “Where did you get them?” His hand once again went to the axe handle at his side.
“Be calm, friend Brogus,” said Ming with a smile. His teeth were white and his purple eyes seemed friendly and reassuring. “There is an enclave of your people in the mountains to the west of the Sands. It is called Temin of the Mount and these mugs are their product. We also buy beer from them on occasion but the heavy taste is not to the liking of most nomads.”
“Beer is beer,” said Brogus as he watched the amber fluid pour from the pitcher and into his mug. He swirled it once, threw back his head, and quaffed deeply. “Ahhh, it’s sweet, not dwarven brew that’s certain, but still, a good omen after long days in your hot sun and endless journey on your devil horses.” He finished the first glass with another giant swig and then held out his mug for a second serving. The girl poured without hesitation and the dwarf sipped more slowly this time.
“Delicious,” said Milli sampling generously from the arrayed plates in front of her. There were fruits of all sorts that she did not recognize. They had unfamiliar but wonderful flavors that seemed to explode in her mouth. “Perhaps it is just my days on horseback in the sun but I suspect you of the Sands have a larger sense of palate than the dwarves of my home.”
“So you are part dwarf then,” said Ming as he glanced up from his own meal. He ate lightly and although he brought his glass to his lips at regular intervals barely seemed to drink at all.
“Oh no,” said Milli flashing her best smile and twirling her hair with her bejeweled right hand. “I was rescued by dwarves when I was but a little girl. They found my caravan destroyed by orcs and took me in.”
“A most fortuitous event,” said Tahnoon as he drank deeply from his glass yet again. “Otherwise we would not have the pleasure of such beauty at our table.”
Milli smiled brightly and flipped her hair in the direction of the rotund man and managed to blush, “Oh, you charmer.”
Brogus snorted out half of a little game bird that he put in his mouth just a moment before.
A serving girl immediately appeared and began to clean up the mess. She leaned over Brogus and her long, dark hair brushed up against him and he was treated to a generous view down the loose fitting robe thing that she wore.
“And you are tall for a dwarf with the caste of something else about you,” said Ming with a look to Dol.
