Rule two: when travelling the No Mans Land choose the weapons appropriate to the regions you are planning to pass through. Keep a sword or a dagger with you always and use a gun when appropriate.
The borders between different regions are blurry, so the regions are marked as intersecting circles on the map. Be extra careful in the interstitial areas
Kangassk closed the book with a slam. A tiny cloud of dust that had risen above it made him sneeze and obviously also brought these unseemly tears to his eyes. He felt sick.
Whenever he tried to cover his face with his hands in a pathetic gesture or to blink he saw Vladas face in front of him. That beautiful, smiling face under a messy heap of curls, bleached and gilded by the sun; her eyes, as deep brown as strong tea; her freckles She looked absolutely alien among the perfect copies of Del he got used to see around him every day. She was brave. She was beautiful. She talked to him nicely unlike the locals
Also, she was going to die. Alone. In the Burnt Region. Without even a gun to protect herself. And he, Kangassk, was going to let it happen. Or was he?
He looked around the store, taking it all in the dull glint of unsold weapons, the dust slowly dancing in the the air and thought about the life he had there, in that city. Pleasant memories were rare. For the perfect citizens praising the purity of ancestors he was a freak, an abomination
She called me a handsome young man Kangassk thought bitterly.
To hell with all this!!! he shouted. The next moment he jumped out of his armchair and started packing without saying so much as May the master forgive me. Having grabbed all he thought he would need, Kan went straight to the dlar where Vlada had rented a room and sat in front of her door, determined to meet her in the morning.
The curtains in the dlar room were so thick they let no light in when drawn, but the silence that came after a noisy desert night said it all: it was morning and the city was falling asleep. Vlada sat at the table, poring over a map of No Mans Land where the circular borders of unstable regions were marked with red ink. She had a lot of plans already, starting with getting herself a fast charga in Border.
She had at least two weeks before the unpleasant conversation she dreaded, but they didnt seem enough.
Vlada rolled up the map, grabbed her backpack, and pushed the door. The door didnt even budge.
What the Vlada cursed and kicked the stubborn thing with all her strength making the soft heavy object blocking it, a person, as it turned out, roll heels over head into the opposite wall. She recognized the young smith from the weapon store. He looked drowsy.
What are you doing here? asked Vlada.
I Ive been waiting here all night, felt sleepy by the morning, and thought that if I took a nap with my back to the door you would wake me up. So you did! He beamed, looking victorious.
Vlada raised her brows in a silent question.
Im coming with you!
Silence.
I mean it! Kangassk insisted, his hands crossed on his chest. I will follow you anyway. I cant let you go into the Burnt Region alone!
Why not? thought Vlada. Its not like a healthy young man will be a burden on the journey, and what a life can he, a freak, have here anyway? Getting away from that city might be a life-changer for him.
Are you good with weapons? she asked quietly.
Yes! shouted Kan, unwillingly letting all the energy he prepared for persuading the Wanderer go into this word alone. It made Vlada chuckle.
Which ones? She smiled.
Short bow! Im the best archer in all Kuldagan! That couldve been true considering how rare archers are in a desert with too many rocks and too few trees. Also swords, daggers, clubs, you name it. Im a smiths apprentice, so Ive had some practice with every type of weapon I ever made.
Okay, I got it. Lets go Vlada shrugged and signed Kan to follow her.
They left the city through the gates, still unattended and wide open.
Close to the mountain pass between Kuldagan and No Mans Land the desert suddenly decides not to give up without a fight. Every dune becomes a tall rampart you have to storm if you want to keep going, every step takes you twice the effort.
Kangassk and Vlada travelled on foot, the Wanderers way. At first, the young man walked with a spring in his step, feeling all brave and inspired. He even tried to take the backpack from Vlada again to carry it along with his own. Two hours later he was secretly glad she hadnt allowed him to do this. After two more hours, the journey, however short it seemed, had tired him out completely. He could barely walk, too exhausted even to be ashamed of himself for dragging his feet on the sand like an old man. Meanwhile, the girl kept walking at a steady pace like a true Wanderer raised among the dunes would.
Wouldnt it be better to travel in the night when its cool? Kan asked her.
No, it wouldnt, she answered in a peremptory tone and kept walking.
Kangassk was too tired to demand an explanation. Instead, he focused on trying his best to keep up with Vlada. Staying awake in daytime was another struggle that kept him busy. Nocturnal habits die hard.
He woke up from his monotonous half-slumber when a hard stone had suddenly replaced the dragging, soft sand under his feet. Kan found himself standing on the ancient road made of grey, time worn cobblestones obviously enchanted to keep the sand away. The edge of the Mountain Ring separating Kuldagan desert from the outer world seemed so close now! The monstrous dunes, Kuldagans last ramparts, ended there, fading into a flat rocky surface beside the mountains. Not that it changed much for Kan and his guide, of course, they still had a long way to go, but the view was uplifting.
A shady spot under the lofty black obelisk at the end of the road looked like a good place to rest after all the hours of walking under the merciless sun, so rest they did.
What is the easiest way to make people happy? Just take their basic comforts away for a while, then give them back.
Oh, how pleasant it felt to enter a shade again, to lie down on the ground, to stretch their tired legs, and quench their thirst! Especially the thirst! The best thing? There was no need to ration water: they were just a few days of journey away from Border, so they could drink all they wanted!
Exhausted, but genuinely happy, Kangassk fell asleep in the obelisks shade. He dreamed the airy, breezy dreams full of pure emotions, sparkling and gentle like a spray of fountain water back at home.
It was already evening, burning red and orange at the horizon, when Vlada woke him up. They were no longer alone. A caravan was approaching them by the ancient road, breaking the desert silence with lively human chatter.
I travelled with them all the way from Torgor, Vlada explained, until we parted on the crossroads. They went to Aldaren-turin to trade there. Meanwhile, I made a detour to buy a gun in Aren-castell. Im glad weve caught up with them. They will give us a ride.
Kangassk nodded. Soon, after Vladas brief conversation with the merchant, he found himself travelling in the greatest comfort possible: on the back of a dunewalker. These huge beasts of burden, both obedient and quiet, have been traversing deserts since the beginning of days, heat and dust storms notwithstanding. Riding one felt like being gently rocked in a giant cradle. Kangassk found it quite pleasant, especially considering the fact that he shared a saddle with a beautiful girl. He even took the liberty of holding onto her waist pretending hed fall otherwise.
If it werent for the caravan, wed be in for a rough journey, explained Vlada. The road is not safe. There can be bandits.
Kangassk nodded knowingly. He had heard his share of merchants tales, most of which involved raids and bloodshed.
You may stop clutching on to me, by the way, Vlada mentioned casually. Dunewalkers are not wild bulls, you wont fall.
What if I get drowsy and fall asleep? asked Kan. He didnt like the idea of keeping his hands off the girl.
Dont. Vlada refused to get the joke. Stay awake and keep looking around. Tell me if you see anything suspicious. Lives may depend on it.
It was getting dark. Kangassk, a typical city dweller used to associate nights with noisy crowds and brightly lit streets, faced the real darkness of a wild Kuldagan night for the first time. The darkness was terrifying, blinding, impenetrable. Evil. It swallowed the caravan whole, weak torchlights that people were carrying were barely visible against its cold black velvet, under a gorgeous milky way of stars burning above. Every noise, even the most harmless one, now made Kans heart race.
Well have to stay in the saddle tonight, Vlada whispered to him. Its not safe to camp here.
In the saddle Kan sighed, unhappy with the news. Damn, my ass is already all numb and tingling
Vlada burst out laughing. It was such a brief moment of joy for she had covered her mouth with her hand almost instantly that it barely disturbed the silence of the night, yet it was enough to kill Kangassks anxiety altogether. He could no longer be serious about the horrors he used to imagine behind every dune. He caught himself smiling like a foolish child and thinking of how nice it would be to hear Vladas laughter again. This was the last thought the young man remembered before he saw the world suddenly swing above him and go dark
There was no proper waking up. Kans consciousness was returning to him gradually, bit by bit: first the pain, then everything else. He touched his head and felt something warm and sticky in his hair. Blood? As he opened his eyes and raised himself upon an elbow to look around be found himself in the middle of the battlefield, most of which was hidden from his eyes in the darkness, but the sounds cries of pain and clashing of steel said it all.
Nobody seemed to notice Kan yet, considering him being just another corpse. Vlada almost tripped over him on her way to her next opponent. Then, still half stunned from his injury, Kan spent several immensely long moments watching his damsel in distress fight alone against a group of five swordsmen, her new katana in her right hand and a satellite sword in her left. She was methodical, keeping her opponents huddled together so they would constantly get in each others way, giving them no chance to use the advantage in numbers they had. Slowly, it sank in: the pretty girl Kangassk wanted so badly to protect was a much better fighter than he was.
The pulsing pain in Kans head twisted his perception in a nauseating way, muting sounds and turning everything in a blur. It felt a lot like being drunk. Kangassk had been drunk once, on his masters famous cactus juice. It felt so bad he swore never to touch alcohol again. The most rational thing to do for a warrior in such a condition was to stay on the ground, pretending to be a corpse, yet Kan made himself stand up, draw a sword, and join the battle.
He must have looked ferocious, a screaming, drunken warrior with mad eyes and bloody head. Indeed, the group of little, non-human bandits he targeted fled in fear before him at first. They regained their courage pretty quickly, though. Soon, Kangassk had been surrounded and was fighting for his life. It didnt take him long to realize he was doomed. Back home, he was so proud of the fighting skills he learned against his mothers wishes, so eager to test them one day in the outer world! Here, they meant little, so very little
Luck was on Kans side that night, though. Someone blew a horn behind the dunes signalling the bandits to wrap up the raid. They changed formation, surrounding a single heavy laden dunewalker, and retreated into the darkness they had come out from. Nobody tried to pursue them. The stolen dunewalkers cries faded away soon. Dunewalkers are simple beasts, affectionate enough to feel sad about being taken away from their owners, but too stupid to fight on their side.
Non-human slingers standing on top of the dunes on both sides of the road were the last to retreat. Kangassk half expected to get another stone to the head from them as a parting gift, but nothing happened. After they were gone, it was a quiet velvety night again, the sea of undisturbed pitch black ink under a gorgeous starry sky.
There are two ways to gather honey. You can kill the bees with smoke, then open the hive and take everything. There will be no honey for you next year, though. Or you can take little, leaving enough for the bees to survive winter. This way you can have a new pot of honey every year. The bandits leaders werent stupid. They took what they could and let the caravan go.
The caravan stood still. There were scared dunewalkers to be calmed down, the wounded to be tended to, the dead to be buried. Grim, exhausted people moved around the makeshift camp in utter silence.
As Kangassks adrenalin rush ended his pain and horror caught up with him. Feeling sick and shaking, he fell to his knees. That was when he accidentally took a closer look at one of the bandits defeated by Vlada
Are you okay, Kan? asked Vlada squatting down next to him.
Yeah he exhaled and pointed at the dead men, Do you know who they are?
Who?
Freaks," answered Kan, bitter grief in his voice, like me. This one is even from the same city as I am. I see my ancestors features in him. Mustve been treated like shit every day ran away became a bandit His life couldve been so different if he just werent ugly
Vlada put her hand on Kans shoulders in silence.
Finally, Kangassk got himself together. He stood up and wiped the blood from his new sword, a katana similar to the one Vlada bought in Aren-castell, but made by the master, not his stupid runaway apprentice. Kan turned his face away from the dead freaks. Desperately wanting to change the subject, he approached one of the goggle-eyed non-human bandits he had killed and touched the little furry body with the nose of his boot.
Ive never seen these creatures before, he said.
Maskaks. Vlada shrugged. There are lots of them in the North. No idea how they got here, though.
So youve been to the North? Kangassk kept questioning Vlada while she was bandaging his injured head.
Yes. Many times, she answered.
What is it like?
Cold. Windy. Snowy in winter. Youll like it there.
Oh, I read about snow! Its frozen water. They say its beautiful Kan stopped dead mid sentence. Wait! Are we going to the North?
Maybe, later. Right now we have to pay a visit to one special little region in No Mans Land, then well see. Now, off with the questions! she said in a strict tone. The caravan is departing soon. Get up onto the saddle, lean against the dunewalkers hunch, and have some sleep. Ill make sure you wont fall. Go.
North whispered Kangassk, tired and drowsy. Magical North
Gentle rocking of the saddle lulled him to sleep. On the very verge of the sleepy oblivion he felt Vladas little hands on his waist, carefully holding him so he wouldnt be afraid of falling down.