Cloudy Night
The desert can be both beautiful and treacherous
Hashem stood outside his humble abode, dressed in his old armor and cloak. The familiarity of the gold-painted metal made him feel as if he’d never left the royal army. Already he could hear the call of the unforgiving desert he would soon cross.
“You’ve got all your weapons?” Jaleh asked him. “Polearms? Bow?”
“I have them,” he assured his wife.
Jaleh gestured toward the wagon. “Enough supplies to reach the port city?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Okay, then. Seems like you’re ready to go.”
Hashem hesitated. “Am I making a mistake, Jaleh?”
She regarded him for a moment, russet eyes tracing the heartache etched onto her husband’s face. “You’re worried about Sadie?”
Hashem nodded. “She wasn’t wrong. My duty as a father should eclipse my duties as a warrior.”
Jaleh squeezed his arm. “And yet, this is who you are. You were never meant to sell jewels, Hashem. You’re an Aspbad Paladin. Your duty is to the Shah. I made my peace with that a long time ago.”
“She was hysterical, Jaleh. The fear in her eyes...” His voice faltered.
A gust of wind ruffled Jaleh’s robes. “I’ll talk to her. You’re doing the right thing,” she reassured him. “And I promise, when the winds carry you back to us, she’ll be here waiting for you, and she’ll be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
“Okay,” he said, voice quivering a little.
She took a step toward him and circled her arms around his wide frame. Even through his armor he could sense her warmth, keeping the cold of the desert night at bay. She kissed him. He melted into it, feeling the familiarity of her lips. Her breath smelled of jasmine. As they parted, her warmth lingered, a ghostly comfort against the weight of his duty.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You deserve better, too.”
Her eyes glazed over. The edges of Jaleh’s mouth curled upward into a bittersweet smile. “Go before I change my mind about letting you leave.”
He hugged his wife one more time, then took hold of the ropes of his wagon and began his trek to the city gates.
Frigid wind cut into Hashem, eviscerating him even through his turban and cloak. It was a testament to the precipitous drop in temperature brought on by night in the vast desert. Those who had grown up in other environments were often surprised by desert cold, underestimating the dry air and its inability to retain heat.
The sky was cloudy, forcing Hashem to navigate Tel Kellah’s streets in nearly pitch black, though that was hardly a problem for most warriors, even former ones. For most it would be considered unwise to travel the streets alone at that hour. There could be any number of thieves or other undesirables lurking about, waiting around the corner for someone foolish enough to cross into their territory. Despite this Hashem made his way fearlessly, even while dragging his wagon of supplies with him. He had been born to the warrior caste, after all, and had sworn oaths and attained magic that made him far more dangerous than any mere street brigand.
He felt guilty for leaving his family again. For the task Executioner had asked of him, however, there could be no delays.
As he arrived at the city gate he noticed that it was already open and that there were no guards in sight. Executioner was already there, dressed in a cloak similar to his, her massive sword sheathed on her back. She waited next to a bulbous, muscular karkadann.
“You’re early,” Executioner said.
Hashem shrugged. “The sooner we leave, the sooner I can return to my family.”
The tall woman approached his wagon and traced her hand over the wood. “Reminds me of old times,” she said wistfully. “Thank you for agreeing to join me.”
“I just didn’t want you to get hopelessly lost,” Hashem teased. Without me, who would help you navigate the sand?”
Executioner smiled. “Regardless, thank you.” She hooked her karkadann’s harness to the wagon, then clambered in. Hashem mounted the onyx-skinned beast, then whipped the reins to urge it forward. They passed through the gate, which rumbled shut behind them.
The two traveled in silence for a time, gliding smoothly through the open desert. Despite the darkness they had no need for candlelight. Both warriors bore the triangular tattoo beneath their left eye that indicated having sworn the oath Dark Vision, which granted them perfect sight even in the umbrous black. Those tattoos glowed in the darkness, a sign of the magic they employed.
“You still navigate the sands as if it’s second nature,” Executioner observed.
Hashem smirked. “I didn’t study for decades just to forget all my old skills.”
“Hm,” Executioner mused, though she didn’t offer a response.
Hashem hesitated. “I’ve missed traveling with you,” he added after a moment.
The Long War had been a brutal conflict, a time of battle against not only soldiers, but powerful demons and monsters, magical djinn and the sorcerers they served. Despite that, Hashem often found himself missing his time in the royal army; the community he had in the warrior caste, the thrill of combat.
He held his hand up to his left eye in an effort to banish such thoughts. The injury was a reminder of why he had left. He couldn’t afford to get swept up in nostalgia. That sort of thinking could get him killed, and he couldn’t afford to leave his family alone. Sadie’s words still rang in his mind. You became a merchant because you didn’t want that responsibility! Because you didn’t want us to grow up fatherless like you had to!
Hashem produced a map and handed it back to Executioner. “Take a look at that. I’ve marked our path. It will take them at least a week to reach the port city, longer with poor navigation. If they fled without a wagon, they don’t have enough food to make it without stopping somewhere. They’ll probably have to pass through Makhun to resupply.”
“Not necessarily. They escaped on a karkadann. If Vahid can navigate the sand well enough, it’s possible for them to keep going until they reach Alcaraz Hall.”
“True,” Hashem acknowledged. “Though that’s a big if.” It took years to learn how to cross the sand efficiently or safely. He somehow doubted that a prince would have been taught such skills. All the more reason to hurry. He didn’t want to think about what might happen to Ariana if she and Vahid were caught in a situation they weren’t prepared for. “Either way, I’d rather catch them before they reach Alcaraz Hall. Ariana trained there for some time, didn’t she?”
“Every Winter for six years.”
“She’s always been good at maintaining connections,” Hashem observed.
Executioner perked up suddenly, turning toward the rear of the wagon. “What was that sound?”
Hashem frowned. “I didn’t hear anything.”
For a time both were silent, listening for whatever Executioner had heard. “Must be my imagination,” she said after a moment. Hashem shrugged. After another few minutes of riding through the desert, Executioner asked, “Did you bring the sword?”
“I always keep it with me,” Hashem said.
Executioner nodded. “Hopefully we won’t need it, but...” She trailed off.
There was an uncertainty in the way she spoke, a vulnerability Hashem had never seen in the Arash Shara before. He turned in the saddle and met Executioner’s eyes. “I know what the girl means to you, Kanna,” he said, trying to show sympathy by using her given name rather than her Arash Shara title. “And I’ll be with you for as long as you need me to be. I just want to make certain that you’ve thought this through.”
“You doubt me?” Executioner’s eyes were cold, as unreadable as a book with no pages.
“Hardly. You’re the most capable warrior I know, but this would be difficult for anyone. In your position I don’t know that I could think rationally. That’s why I have to ask, do you even know how you’ll get her to come back when we do find her?”
“I’ll drag her back if I have to,” Executioner growled.
“Respectfully, that will only serve to alienate her from you. Believe me, after struggling to raise four children, I would know.”
Executioner considered his words. “What do you suggest?”
“We need to approach her with an open mind. That means being ready to listen to her point of view, even if we think she’s being naive.”
“She is being naive.”
“Were you and I any different at her age?”
Executioner hesitated. “I don’t care if she hates me,” the Arash Shara said after a moment. “The girl’s safety is more important than my personal feelings.” She turned away.
Hashem knew her well enough to know the turmoil that must be raging inside of her. For all Executioner’s stoicism, her actions gave her away, speaking louder than any words could. He wondered how many others knew her as well as he did. He doubted that anyone did. As far as he knew, she didn’t interact much with anyone but the Shah and her personal unit, the Shikari warriors, these days. When did you become so alone, Kanna?
And then there was the fact that she had come to him of all people to help her retrieve Ariana. Wouldn’t it have been better to take a contingent of her Shikari warriors? If Executioner’s intent really was to simply drag the crown princess back, regardless of Ariana’s wishes, then what was the point of traveling covertly in a merchant wagon bearing just the two of them?
“The Shah didn’t give you his blessing for this mission, did he?” Hashem asked, giving voice to his suspicions.
Executioner was silent for a long moment. “When did you figure it out?”
“I suspected right from the beginning,” Hashem confessed. “From the moment you asked for my help outside of my house.”
She turned back to him. In the fathomless depths of her sea green eyes he found a maelstrom of anxious currents, uncertainty manifested as fear, anger, and, most of all, pain. She opened her mouth to speak, when another voice abruptly cut through the silence.
“What do you mean the Shah didn’t order this mission?!”
Hashem’s throat constricted. He turned toward the tail end of the wagon, slowly, as if afraid that he’d see his most vivid nightmares waiting for him there. What he saw was even worse.
“Sadie!”
Sadie cursed herself for not dressing more warmly. Shivering in the back of the wagon, she knew she’d messed up. Nights in Tel Kellah tended to be cold, but not this cold. Until that moment she’d never fully appreciated how much difference the cramped buildings and dense crowds made compared to the open desert. Even inside the restrictive confines of the barrel she’d emptied out to hide in, the cold was so overwhelming that it made her teeth chatter. Was this what her father dealt with every time he went out to sell his wares in other cities?
She pressed her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying desperately to find a way to maintain at least some semblance of warmth.
“What was that sound?”
Sadie froze, fearing Executioner had noticed her.
“I didn’t hear anything,” her father replied.
Sadie clamped her jaw shut to prevent her teeth from chattering. She held still for one long, agonizing moment.
“Must be my imagination,” Executioner decided.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Really, what had Sadie been thinking? She’d thought that she could help keep an eye on her father, that somehow she could be useful to her family by sneaking aboard his wagon to join him on his expedition. In hindsight, it had been a really stupid decision. What did she know about the desert, or the world outside of Tel Kellah? She had never even left the city, much less crossed the sand.
Wasn’t Sadie doing exactly what she had warned her brothers against? Stupid, stupid, stupid! What in Rouhani am I doing out here?! She hadn’t sworn any oaths. She bore no tattoos for spellcasting. She had been kidding herself to think that her scimitar training and her street smarts could be of any use outside the city.
“I know what the girl means to you, Kanna,” Hashem said suddenly.
Sadie perked up. Kanna? Was that Executioner’s real name, from before she had been named Arash Shara?
The two warriors began to converse about Princess Ariana. Sadie couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying, but she got the impression that there was more to the story than she knew. Executioner seemed to care dearly for the princess, though Sadie couldn’t even begin to guess at why. Executioner had always been a mystery to her, her father’s comrade and former subordinate from the Long War.
She knew that, like her father, Executioner had been born into the warrior caste. Unlike Sadie, whose upbringing had consisted of going to school and helping her father in Tel Kellah’s markets, Executioner’s upbringing had been composed of relentless training exercises, learning to fight so that she could serve the Shah.
Where Sadie had only ever had to share a room with her sister, Executioner had shared cramped barracks with a dozen other warriors, and spent her childhood and adolescence in dueling arenas and participating in simulated war games. Upon reaching adulthood Executioner had been inducted into the Shah’s army and had been sent hundreds of kilometers away to fight in the Long War, sometimes going days without food or water. It was a difficult life, the likes of which Sadie couldn’t imagine.
“The Shah didn’t give you his blessing for this mission, did he?” Hashem asked suddenly.
Sadie’s eyes widened.
“When did you figure it out?”
“I suspected right from the beginning. From the moment you asked for my help outside of my house.”
The shock of what she was hearing was so great that Sadie didn’t even realize what she was doing until it was too late. She exploded out of the barrel, shouting at her father. “What do you mean the Shah didn’t order this mission?!”
Hashem turned from where he sat up front. “Sadie!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?!”
She realized too late that she had blown her cover. At that moment, however, she didn’t care. All that mattered was what Hashem had just admitted. “What do you mean the Shah didn’t order this mission?” Sadie repeated. “You mean you weren’t ordered to go?” Blood roared in her ears. She felt dizzy, disoriented by the new information.
Hashem flushed. “Sadie, I-”
“You what?!” she demanded.
“Sadie, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Me?! What about you, dad?! You weren’t even ordered to go! You could have stayed with mom, and you still chose to leave us!” Her heart thundered in her chest. Sadie had never felt rage like this before - all consuming, as if fire filled her veins. “Do you love Executioner?! Is that it?!”
“What?!” Hashem exclaimed. “No, Sadie, it isn’t like that.”
“Then why did you leave us?! You’re always telling me how dangerous it is outside the city! You said that thousands of demons live in the desert! Why go through that if you didn’t have to?! Don’t you want to be with your family?”
“It’s my fault, Sadie,” Executioner said. In contrast to Hashem, her face was stoic, eerily calm. “If you’re going to be angry at someone, be angry at me.”
Sadie whirled on the Arash Shara. “I am angry at you! How dare you?! You had no right to take him away from us!”
“I know.”
Sadie glared at the both of them, wide-eyed, manic. Then her emotions overcame her and she began to shake. Tears found their way down her face for what felt like the millionth time that night, bulbous and hot as they streamed down her chin. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know what you’re doing is important, but...”
Hashem pulled back on the reins, stopping the karkadann. He clambered into the wagon and hoisted Sadie out of the barrel, then drew her into a hug. His arms felt warm around her, his hard chest somehow as comforting as the softest pillow. “Shhh...” he said. “It’s going to be alright, baby girl.”
Hearing his nickname for her caused Sadie’s tears to flow anew. She hadn’t even realized she was capable of crying this much. In the back of her mind a small part of her wondered whether it was wise to lose so much moisture in the desert. “You didn’t even say goodbye...”
“I know, baby girl. I know.” He tightened his grip around her, holding her head to his chest as he had when she’d been small.
“I know I shouldn’t be here, but I...I...”
Hashem began to stroke her hair. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have been more thoughtful. I didn’t mean to make you feel abandoned.”
“Then why...?” Sadie blubbered. “Why did you have to go?”
He wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m going to tell you everything, Sadie. I promise I will.”
“Hashem,” Executioner said.
“What is it?”
Executioner pointed. Sadie looked up. What is that? In the distance the horizon seemed almost... fuzzy. She could see the air distorting, as if from the heat of the sun. That couldn’t be, though. It was still dark. The sun wouldn’t be up for another couple of hours, at least. Then she realized that what she was seeing wasn’t a heat distortion. It looked like dust. No, not dust, sand - swimming in the air, twisting and whirling. Sadie paled as she realized what she was seeing. A sandstorm was coming.
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