Chapter 12
November 26th
Twenty-two days from when they had set out, twenty long days of discomfort and terror, and they had finally crossed the last of the maws. They had not yet arrived, but by Nawfa's estimation, unless the Dustmen had moved on from their last known location, they should be only five days out. They had made good time, as per the estimation of Zaki despite their set back. Though, one could argue that it was due to them that they made such good time, being motivated to travel faster than what would normally be expected. The Barrens were not an easy place to traverse, but even more difficult when navigating a caravan of wares.
It had only been ten days since the 'survival' of the Jundar attack. Though Zechariah's wound was not yet healed, and still pained him frequently, it had for the most part sealed up nicely, and the infection had been conquered. He still kept it bandaged and applied ointment to it as per Nawfa's demands claiming that the 'medicine can seep deeper than just the skin', though Zechariah had trouble believing that. He still moved with caution so as to not aggravate the wound, and couldn't help out much around the caravan, most tasks requiring two hands and a strong back, neither of which Zechariah had at the moment. However, his arm had recovered enough that he was able to take up his carving again. He had toyed with the idea of stopping, for fear of what the carving meant. However, after talking with Nawfa and hearing about, 'glowing runes' he admitted to himself that he was not magically inclined and that his carvings were safe.
Though, he couldn't help but wonder at the correlation of certain events. Whilst he had been working on the wooden boards, he hadn't remembered having any dreams, yet after his wound when he stopped working, it was less than a port and he had one of his most disturbing dreams in his memory. It could perhaps simply have been coincidence. He had broken into a fever with the infection of his wound. It could have been triggered by simply that. It wasn't beyond the norms of expectations and reason, however, what if there was more to it than that? What if it wasn't just coincidence, but was rather a correlation of events? Though...one might say equally say that carving such runes might have brought the Jundar upon them in the first place.
Zechariah sighed. He needed to stop thinking so much. It wasn't good for him. His hands were his strength, not his brain. He'd proven that time and time again when he failed his mother's attempts at trying to get him to read and write. He'd wanted to work in the fields, he'd wanted to be useful to his father. Though he even failed at that more often than not. Regardless, he wanted to at least finish his wooden board. It wouldn't do to leave something incomplete. So, after walking with the Caravan for some time, Zechariah took the wooden board and his carving tools and climbed up next to Zaki much to his chagrin. Zechariah wanted a place to sit that wasn't that same old wagon, but the only available seat was next to Zaki for no one liked to endure his company for long.
"What do you think your doing?" Zaki demanded as he tossed up his tools and climbed in next to him.
Zechariah pointedly ignored him as Zaki had done to him so many times before.
"Cute." Zaki said with annoyance, recognizing what Zechariah was doing.
Zechariah continued to ignore him, though he couldn't help but grin at winning that small bout. He opened up his tools, gave them a quick test to check their sharpness. Feeling satisfied by their condition, he began chiselling away at the last portion of his board. Though the design on the board was the most intricate he had ever done, though not the most delicate, it looked rather ugly with the four straight corners. He'd have to do something about that. Maybe he could work it into a portrait or a small table top for a vase or some other decoration. If he worked the legs right it might make a fair draw or two.
"Nawfa's been pretty upset recently. Did you two have a lover's quarrel?" Zaki asked.
Zechariah continued to ignore him.
"Tsk," Zaki clucked in disapproval. "Whatever. Just know, that if she doesn't do her duties properly because of you, I'm taking it from your pay."
"What?" Zechariah asked disbelieving.
"Drops always gets one's attention." Zaki said mockingly.
"You can't charge me based on someone else's failure." Zechariah protested.
"If it's your fault I can, and I will." Zaki stated.
"You really do sup from Shalzar don't you?" Zechariah scoffed.
"The God of dealings and intellect? Willingly." Zaki said.
"The God of subterfuge and duplicity." Zechariah retorted.
"You only see him that way because you don't have the required intellect." Zaki ridiculed.
"I...You..." Zechariah bumbled over his words only proving Zaki's comment, who simply raised an eyebrow at Zechariah. Flustered and done with his abrasive company, Zechariah gathered up his tools and hopped off the wagon, storming off back to his little cage. Gorgoth couldn't take him soon enough, that infuriating, damnable man. The void itself is too good for the likes of him.
Zechariah stopped in his tracks seeing Nawfa standing in the stirrups of her horse, looking Peakward as they travelled Edgeward. She stood, completely still, neck extended, gazing into the horizon, not moving a muscle, not twitching a bit, not even wind played with her hair. What was she doing? Zechariah was about to call out to her but then she suddenly snapped her reigns and rode her horse up to the front of the caravan. Whatever it was, it didn't warrant his return to Zaki, so Zechariah continued on his way back to his wagon. Whatever it was, he could ask Nawfa about it later. He'd need to talk to her anyway, and not only because of the threats of losing his drops, but also because he wanted to smooth things over with Nawfa.
Before he got a chance to talk to her though, another cry arose. "Hide the wagons! Get behind the stones!" Zechariah's stomach dropped. What now? One horror after another. The caravan began to move, wagons pulling away from the line to hide themselves behind the large monoliths that dotted the landscape still. The pack animals were also taken into cover and leashed down so as to not be able to escape. Zechariah hurried to to the shadow of a stone as quickly as he could. People were pulling out sand and rock colored tarps and throwing them over the animals and wagons. Zechariah peaked around the edge of one of the monoliths, trying to see what had spooked Zaki this time, but he couldn't find it. No tremors in the ground, hiding wouldn't stop a Jundar from finding them.
Then he saw it, a few black specks soaring high in the sky, going this way and that. He wouldn't have been able to pick one out from the vastness of the sky, but these were not aviaries in migration, they were not the swarm of a flock. They were in a uniform line, horizontal to the barrens. They were scouts. Scouts that didn't need to fear being found and killed, for they soared high above any dangers below. They were Draconians.
Being far to distant to be able to perceive with any level of clarity, Zechariah instead drew his head back into the shadows of the monoliths and hid. He didn't know how good their eyesight was, but he'd heard that they were far better archers than any human, with the eyes of a hawk. The shadows of the rocks hid them, the tarps covered them, but even still, Zechariah's heart pounded with fear, yet again, on this damnable journey. He couldn't hide his eyes. He couldn't look away. He peeked around the edge of the tarp, still in the shadows and watched the sky's. After several long minutes, the line of figures soared into view. He watched them pass by, without breaking line, without breaking pace, they continued over the barrens, until they disappeared from view.
"Set up watches!" Called Zaki emerging from his tarp. "They'll have to make a return trip. We stay here till they pass over again. Gather up some sand and stones and spread them over the tarps."
Zechariah left the safety of his tarp and headed over to Zaki asking, "Is it going to be enough? Are we going to be safe?"
"No one's safe in the Barrens. Best to assume they saw us, but we can't risk traveling in the open just in case they didn't. Nawfa! How far to the Dustmen?"
"Three days." Nawfa called back, "If they haven't been forced to move on."
"As soon as the Draconians pass over again, we're going to assume that they saw us and reported it. We'll make a one last dash, and try to reach the Dustmen in two."
"Almaran protect us." Zechariah said, dread setting into his heart.
The whole camp waited in tense silence for the better part of two rises, waiting for the Draconian scouts to return. Sure enough, a call arose from a watchman, and everyone dashed back under the shadows and cover of the rocks and tarps. They waited again, with breaths held tense, as they waited, hiding completely this time, for a full half rise. When they emerged from their hiding place, sweating profusely from the heat contained by the tarps, the skies were clear. They re-organized the caravan, and set off again, trying to make up for lost time, pushing man and beast alike twice as hard as before. It wasn't quite the panicked rush that had driven them after the Jundar had shown itself, but they marched steadily for hours, stopping only to swap out the draft horses positions to keep them as fresh as possible.
February 2nd, 2020
Zechariah tried to find time to speak with Nawfa, but with how eager they were all traveling, she had little time for apathy, scouting ahead and marking out the easiest paths for the wagons to traverse. The second day was much the same as the first. Hurried paces, little rest and constantly wary eyes scanning the skies. Zechariah didn't know which of the horrors he had faced was the worse. The predatory stalking of the Jundar, the immense terror of the Rock Wyrm, or the possibility of enemy scouts reporting a caravan laden with valuables. Which ever was worse, he decidedly did not enjoy traversing the Barrens. His afflictions must be affecting his mind also, or Shimara had decided to take fickle fancy of his fates. Whatever the reason, he was no longer sure that following the phantoms of his mind was what he wished to do. Not if it led to this.
Towards the evening of the second day, Nawfa brought the caravan to a halt. She dismounted, and began to wander around, looking at the stones and sand. The terrain had changed over the last two days, slowly bringing more and more sand with it. Though the dunes were still broken by fissures and pillars of stone, the dunes had begun to rise from only a few feet to tens of feet. Zechariah wished he could see it from above, as the Draconians do. He wondered at why the sands seemed so isolated to the inner Barrens, and what winds may whip them into such mighty mountains, for in the distance he saw that they only grew in grandeur.
Zechariah disembarked his wagon, and saw Nawfa and Zaki looking for something, and consulting in whispered tones with each other. Dread began to settle upon him as he realized the implications.
"They're gone, aren't they?" Zechariah said as he approached. Zaki turned to him, but Nawfa kept searching the stones.
"It doesn't look like they're here does it?" Zaki said irritably.
Biting his tongue Zechariah asked, "So what do we do now?"
"We die of dehydration, or by the blade. I can help you out with the latter one if you like." Zaki said as he marched back toward the wagons.
"That's it? We just die?" Zechariah said disbelievingly as he turned to call after Nawfa, but paused as he saw her inspecting one of the stone pillars.
"What's this?" He said squatting next to her as she ran her fingers over the rough stone.
"A message. Or a part of one." She said looking up around her then moving to another pillar.
"A message?" Zechariah asked following her. "What does it say?"
"Well, it says we're more likely to die by the sword then dehydration." Nawfa said squatting down again.
"That's encouraging I guess." Zechariah said sarcastically. "Real comforting knowing I'll die quickly." Nawfa smiled at that, whilst she inspected the second stone. "Does it say anything else?" Zechariah pressed.
"It's a code that we leave for each other. It tells the events of the encampment, why they left and where they are going. Obviously, leaving so much information out in the open is dangerous, so we make sure only the leaders and the elites know the code. Unfortunately," she said moving to another stone, "It is quite complex and takes some time to decipher."
"Time we may not have," Zechariah finished, "hence Zaki's cheerful demeanor."
"Exactly. That, and it's been quite a while since I've had to decipher a code." Nawfa said rubbing her forehead. "You've constantly got tools in hand, do you happen to have any paper and charcoal?"
"Uh, no. I'm afraid not." Zechariah said blushing a bit.
"Get some from Zaki would you? I need something to take notes with." Nawfa said as she moved on to another stone. Zechariah did as she requested, stomaching Zaki's foul mood long enough to get what she needed, before returning. After handing the items over to her he stared for some time at the stone she was inspecting, but could see nothing of it.
"What is it that you are looking for?" Zechariah asked not comprehending.
"The weathering." Nawfa said, pointing at the rough stone. "You see here?" Nawfa said pointing at a rough part of the stone. "This section is rougher than the rest around it. The sandstorms will smooth out the stones relatively fast, this roughness, then, isn't natural. We paint with acid, and the acid corrodes the stones, making them rougher. The rough parts then tell a story, that is both coded, and will erode away in a few years." She held up a roll of paper against the stones and began to drag the charcoal, flat side against it. After a moment of confusion, Zechariah began to see a pattern appear on the paper, exaggerating the areas of the stone that were more pronounced or sunken due to the acid, creating a pattern though faint and not well defined. Nawfa went around each stone, identifying the 'weathering' that she spoke of, and drew out the patterns onto the paper as before.
"What if you don't have paper and charcoal?" Zechariah asked kneeling next to her as she spread the papers out weighing them down with stones.
"You can decipher it without paper, just by being more familiar with the code. Unfortunately..." she said with some shame tucking some hair behind her ear, "I'm not that good with them. I could probably do it, but it would take longer."
"And, who makes these codes?" Zechariah asked leaning forward to examine them more closely.
"As I said, the leaders and the elites." Nawfa stated.
"So all the elites know how to paint these codes?" Zechariah inquired, pressing further.
Nawfa looked at him more closely now, eyes narrowing. "We can, yes...but that's not what you are asking is it? Why are you so interested in this?"
"I...have a curious mind?" Zechariah more asked than stated. Nawfa's eyebrow raised as it usually did when he was avoiding a question. Sighing Zechariah explained, "They look familiar. That's all."
"Familiar? Familiar how?" Nawfa asked suspiciously.
"I...I don't know. Like this pattern and that one both sign similar things, don't they? I'd suppose either time or location."
"How...They are the signatures of who made them. Mudaris and Zaeim...Zaeim being our 'king' such as he is. How did you know they were the same?"
Zechariah shrugged. "I don't know. I...Wait. Is Zaeim a ritualist as well?"
"Why do you want to know?" Nawfa inquired.
"I don't know, it just..."
"Zechariah. How do you know?" Nawfa insisted.
"Its...I have an eye for patterns I guess. These seem similar to the patterns I've carved. That's all."
"Zaeim is our leader. He...teaches those who are blessed to use rituals. You think that these are...?"
"Magical? I have no idea. I don't think so. Didn't you say that runes glow?"
"Yes, at least that's what I've heard."
"Well, these aren't glowing. So they likely just resemble runes, right?"
"I guess. I suppose it doesn't matter." Nawfa said turning back to the charcoal runes.
"Do all who write the runes practice ritual magic?" Zechariah asked.
"Yes. It is only they who are permitted to leave the codes."
"I see. And..."
"Zechariah," Nawfa interrupted. "Time is short and though I would love to chat more, I must focus on decoding these. Every moment may be a crucial moment lost."
"Right..." Zechariah said standing slowly. "I'll leave you to it then." Nawfa nodded to him, before returning to her work, and Zechariah made his way back to the caravan, to help set up a cold evening meal.
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