The Eye of the Hunter (53 page)

* * *

The next morning, they passed by stables of high-stepping horses, sleek and hot-blooded and swift, and went beyond the city walls and out to the camel markets, for by law camels were not permitted within the bounds of the city except to deliver or pick up goods. Why there was such an edict governing the whereabouts of camels became obvious to Gwylly and Faeril and Riatha and Urus when they came to the camel grounds: the odor was horrific.
“Whew
,” hissed Gwylly, his eyes crinkling and watering, denoting
that the rest of his face, hidden beneath his fastened turban scarf, was screwed into a grimace of distaste. “No wonder the place is downwind of town.” The others nodded in agreement, and it was with some reluctance that they stepped in among the noisome beasts.

Mouths moving side to side as they chewed cud, the camels grunted and groaned, as if perpetually complaining, whether or not they were working or resting, standing or lying, immobile, walking, or trotting. And as the seven strode past, camels rolled their eyes and contorted their faces into hideous masks, and some spat malodorous gobs at the strangers.

Reigo laughed. “I had forgotten!”

Faeril looked up at the Realmsman. “Forgotten what, Reigo?”

“An ancient tale, little one. It seems that the prophet Shat’weh, riding his favorite camel, Onkha, fled across the desert, ahead of pursuing enemies. Urged on by Shat’weh, Onkha galloped most swiftly and outran the pursuers and bore his master into exile and safety. As a reward, Shat’weh whispered the true name of God into faithful Onkha’s ear. From that time to this, the Secret of Secrets has been handed down from one camel to another. And now, whenever any camel looks at a person who lacks its knowledge, the animal feels superior and its face twists into a supercilious sneer.”

Reigo burst into laughter, and Faeril began giggling. Soon all seven were striding and laughing among hideously grimacing dromedaries, and that’s how they came mirthfully into the company of the camel merchants.

Although the merchants clearly were unnerved by Elven and Warrow eyes and by Urus’s towering height, still they haggled long and loudly. Yet Halíd and Reigo were highly skilled in the art of camel bargaining: examining the humps for firmness, gauging how well the animals had been fed; looking at yellow-stained teeth and even smelling each proffered beast’s foul breath, both signs of ageing; having the complaining, groaning creatures stand and lie, judging their docility and response to command; looking at height and length of leg and condition of coat and other such indicators of health and endurance and speed.

In the end, they purchased five swift
hajun
, dromedaries for riding, and six
jamâl
, pack camels for haling supplies.
All were females but for a gelded male, and that one war a huge dromedary to bear Urus.

Too, they acquired the needed tack, obtaining as well two special double saddles, ones that allowed a K’affeyah tribesman to ride with a child, the youngling sitting down and forward of the rider.

After a long discourse among themselves, casting many fearful glances at those who were perhaps
Djinn, zrîr Djinn
and
Afrit
, cautiously the camel dealers approached the Human pair—Halíd and Reigo—and asked if they wished for the decorative blue tassels to be removed from the tack for after all, everyone knew that blue was the holy color used to ward off imps and demons.

Reigo laughed so hard that he could not answer, but speaking in Kabla, Halíd fixed a cool eye on the merchants and said, “The blue tassels must remain, for they will serve to enhance the powers of our masters.”

Awed, the camel merchants turned to Riatha and Aravan, to Faeril and Gwylly, and lastly to Urus, and salaamed reverently and deeply.

Reigo laughed even harder.

All was obtained at a fair price, for it may have been as Urus had asked: “Who would try to cheat an angel or a devil?”

* * *

Early the next morning, camels sneering and grumbling and complaining, the seven departed Sabra, heading southerly into the Karoo. Being the most experienced camel riders. Reigo and Halíd each rode with a Warrow mounted down and before them on the lower seat of the double saddle—Faeril with Reigo, Gwylly with Halíd. Riatha, Aravan, and Urus each rode on individual dromedaries, Urus’s animal protesting loudly. Too, Reigo, Halíd, and Aravan each had two pack camels in tow, laden with goatskins of water food, grain, light tent cloths, cooking gear, firecoke, and the like, all purchased in the
suq
. Although most of the water and other supplies were laden on the pack camels the riding dromedaries also bore a goatskin of water apiece and a minor amount of other goods as well, for as Halíd had said, “If the pack camels manage to run away, we would not wish to lose all things needed to survive.”

As they purchased their goods in the bazaar, Reigo and Halíd had asked about waterholes and pasturages and other
such along their intended route. They had received some valuable information. But for the most part, the caravaneers had warned them of the whirling demons and haunted oases and the black camel and the vile spirits living under the sand and down in the wells and of the jackals of fire and had warned them of the evil nature of the place where they were headed; they had cited tales of caravans vanished and of travellers disappearing and even of the lost expedition of the Prince from Vancha who searched for fabled Dodona, the tale yet remembered to this day. And they had shaken their heads in disbelief when Reigo had laughed over these tales of desert truth, calling them but mere superstition, though Halíd had seemed to take them more seriously. Regardless of the heartfelt warnings, Halíd and Reigo, along with their
Djinnain
and
zrâr Djinnain
and
Afrit
had seemed determined to go into this evil part of the
Erg
, and so the caravaneers had given them amulets of blue to ward off the wraiths and liches and ghosts and other such.
Perhaps
, the Sabrinians would later speculate,
perhaps they truly were Seraphim and Cherubim and a Throne, here on earth as God’s messengers, with their lowly Human servants to attend to them. For only the Lord of Wisdom would know why they went into the cursed zone, that part of the Erg all sensible Men avoided. On the other hand, if they were demons
— Mahbûl!
How could they be demons? They wore blue and took the blue amulets and asked for blue tassels for their camels
.…The debates were loud and tumultuous, and even the
imamîn
knew not the answers, though they often prevented hotheads from slitting one another’s throats with their drawn curved knives. Long were the arguments and they continued throughout the following months, and in some quarters lasted for years.

Within two hours of departure, the seven came to the
Erg
, the great sand dunes curving away in long, graceful arcs as far as the eye could see, all the world before them a sea of sunlit beige and shadowed bronze. To their left, the Sun rose upward in the morning sky. To their right, the slow bend of the
Erg
carried it westerly veering northward. In the near distance behind them lay the city of Sabra and the Avagon Sea beyond. And before them stood the sands of the vast Karoo.

“Hut, hut, hut, hajîn!”
cried Reigo in Kabla.
“Yallah, yallah!”
Then he switched to Common: “Onward, O sluggard
bag of bones,” he called, the beast protesting with a shouted
Hronk!
but padding forward into the endless dunes despite its complaints concerning the bearing of a Man and a damman, the grumbling pack camels drawn after. Behind came Halíd and Gwylly, their string of muttering camels in tow. Next rode Riatha and then Urus on his dissenting gelding, with Aravan and his two pack camels bringing up the rear. And although Reigo rode in the lead, with Aravan coming last, they were following a course set by the Elf their navigator across the Karoo. And so went the small caravan of camels and riders, swaying into the
Erg
.

“Not like riding a pony,” mumbled Faeril.

“What?”

“I said, Reigo, that riding a camel is not at all like riding a pony. No wonder Aravan named them ‘ships o’ the sand what with all of this rocking and swaying. Why, a person might get seasick.”

Reigo laughed. “Some do, Faeril…get seasick, that is Look at the camel’s gait—it swings both right legs forward at the same time, then both left legs. When walking, this causes the swaying, for the camel must do so to maintain its balance. But when running, the gait smooths greatly.”

The damman looked down at the camel’s walk—“Oh like that of the pacers of Pendwyr”—her mind hearkening back to a time she and Gwylly had attended the horse-drawn, two-wheeled cart races on the green at Pendwyr.

“Aye,” replied Reigo. “But a horse has to be trammel-trained to the gait, whereas it comes naturally to the camel.”

“Lurch on, gallant camel,” cried Faeril, pointing ahead, “across the sandy dunes. But should I get sick, you will be the first to find out.”

Reigo’s hearty laughter belled forth, and his camel
hronked
in protesting response. And hearing the laughter and growl, the people behind smiled while the trailing camels grumbled, neither knowing the cause of mirth nor the cause of complaint.

* * *

During the heart of the heat of the day, they stopped and sat under hastily erected shade cloths. Out before them, the camels knelt down on the sand, instinctively aligning their bodies lengthwise to the Sun, exposing as little of them selves to its direct rays as they could. They would remain
resting from late morning until mid-afternoon, resting during the time it was too hot for prudent travel.

The Sun had slid halfway down from the zenith toward the horizon when they prepared to take up the trek once more. The day was yet hot but bearable, and the loose robes and clothing in which they were swathed protected the companions from the torrid rays. Again Halíd reminded them all to down copious quantities of water. “Remember, like desert raiders the Sun and wind will rob you of moisture, and though the covering of your clothes will ward you from the worst of it, still you need to drink often. Take all you need, storing your water inside yourself instead of in your canteen. Men have died of thirst, water yet at their belts.”

“What about the camels?” Faeril asked.

“Tonight we should reach a pasturage,” answered Halíd. “Not all the Karoo is barren dune; some thorny bushes and grasses grow in sheltered places. There we will hobble the camels, and they will eat. They chiefly get their water from the bushes and grasses and shrubs, and for the most part do not need to drink. I have known them to go for a winter season without sipping water, especially when the grasses are rich and succulent and the mornings laden with dew.

“We will offer them a drink at dawn, but they will only take it if the grazing is poor.”

They struck their shelters and bundled them back onto the camels, the ill-tempered beasts sneering and growling and trying to bite ere they got underway again. But eventually they heeded commands, levering themselves up, hind legs first, then one front leg and finally the other, an ungainly maneuver at best,
hronking
and
rrrunking
throughout.

Gwylly turned to Halíd behind, looking up at the Man. “I say, Halíd, do you feel as I do that we might as well be up in the
Bèllo Vènto
’s crow’s nest, pitching and swaying high above everything? I mean, look at us up here on our lofty perch, higher than a tall Man’s head. From this vantage we should be able to see all the way to where we are going to camp tonight.”

Halíd smiled. “Not quite, Gwylly. Camp is some twenty miles south…five or so hours away.”

Halíd’s assessment was not far off, for they arrived at their campsite in just under five hours, well into the night.

They had gone some thirteen leagues that day, some thirty-nine miles, a good day’s trip and one that they could maintain day after day, for in spite of the complaints of the camels, they were lightly loaded.

They made camp and took a meal, and poured a small quantity of
hruja
oil in a thin ring about each bed site, a line that scorpions would not cross.

That night they set watch in order: Reigo, Haíd, Aravan, Gwylly, Faeril, Riatha, and Urus.

* * *

At the breaking of fast in the dawn’s light, Faeril looked at the pasturage, nought but thorny bushes and sparse grass, and she wondered at any beast that could survive on such. Yet when the camels were offered water, sneering with disdain they took none, having found the plants to their liking. Nevertheless, when offered grain, the camels ate eagerly, their appetites for such insatiable.

For four more days did they travel on a more or less south-bearing course, camping late at night, setting watch, rising at dawn, resting in the heat of the day. Depending on the pasturage, at times the camels took water, at other times none.

The land they crossed was desolate beyond redemption, filled with sand and rock and sparse vegetation. Yet there was an elusive beauty in its gaunt reach: Isolated rock towers soared hundreds of feet into the sky, as if an entire mountain had been carven down to its core by wind-driven sand, leaving behind a great monolith visible for tens of leagues. Dry
oueds
twisted across barren land, silent testimony that water once had flowed within their banks and might once again. Hills of red rock thrust up from rust-red sand, fantastic whorls and gnurlings and striations exposed to the Sun. Vast arrays of timeworn hoodoos, twisted stone pillars shaped by the wind, stood like unremembered fields of ancient obelisks dedicated to Kings long forgotten. Valleys of gravelly stone there were, the rocks rounded as if from water, though ’twas the wind and sand instead. Immense shallow circular pits gaped in the stark land, walls and floors covered with crustal salt. Towering flanges of upright stone ran for hundreds of yards, holed through here and there, huge windows for viewing beyond. In places wide stretches of bare flat rock reached for a mile or more, called beds of the giants by the K’affeyah. And now and then
they came upon extended reaches of tussocky hummocks mustered in random array, and here they let the camels graze.