Awakened Response
10th trial of Ymiden, 716
Eddrick Brodon had no concern over the tracks he was leaving in the Hotlands sand. His mind had become increasingly focused on 'The Reader's puzzling pronouncement regarding him. He'd long since figured out the bit about the "two women", and how he was supposed to "let them kill you". Naturally, it was all just some cryptic twist on the encounter that had come with two women a few trials later. It had led to his - and their - installment in the Rahkrii Raiders, a well-known, well-feared bandit group operating primarily in the western half of the desert.
At least at that time they were keeping to the western half. It was where their two main strongholds were, both north of the city of Nashaki. But now they'd been out surveying new holds to the east. The other encounter there surely had some significance as far as other parts of the so-called "prophecy" were concerned. But did his inclusion into the bandit ranks have anything to do with it? The wandering seer had said something about him "joining the fight against the great enemy." The encounter in the east HAD involved a fight, but it was only about a half dozen on each side and had ended in a more or less stalemate after a few had died on each side.
But it was exact wording and inflection of the Reader's words that troubled him. The emphasis on "THE" Great Enemy. It was true that the small skirmish had involved the new northern power, the Raskithecal. Legions of one Immortal or another. Eddrick knew about the regular Ithecal; the ones from the island of Yithiral, or whatever. They occasionally turned up as slaves in Athart, which was where Eddrick was from. But these were different. It had pretty obviously been a scouting party, the same as his group had been.
It had him worried alright. A scouting party of some race he'd as yet only heard about. He'd heard about the Raskithecal from a Qi'ora diplomat from Nashaki, back when he was still a member of the Athartian Slave Raiders. He'd even had a subtle romance developing with her. But she'd been murdered, and he'd been blamed, and it was only the desperate desertion and escape that had kept his mind off his grief. He now hated Athart, and wanted greatly to redeem himself with Nashaki, more as tribute to her than anything else. She'd believed in her culture. But for all he knew, her death had been ordered by Nashaki and not Athart at all.
But she'd mentioned the aggressive Legions to the north, and how their maneuvers and war games had steadily advanced in Nashaki's direction. That was almost twelve arcs ago, and even then she'd feared an invasion would come "in the next ten arcs". So it seemed these Raskithecal were already two arcs overdue. And now he'd had an encounter with a scouting party way to the east. Well...that was not exactly Nashaki's back yard. But it could be the start of a slow political encirclement.
So now he was headed to Nashaki, and a different woman, one he'd freed from slavers as part of his need for atonement against his years as a slaver in Athart. His goal was not only to see if his standing with that city had changed from the "Wanted for questioning" status she'd told him of before, as well as to warn the city of possible attack by these "Rascals" to the north. He hoped, if nothing else, that this gesture may help convince any detractors that he was deserving of the benefit of the doubt.
He waved a stick remotely near his Poko mount's antennas, its sensitivity being more than sufficient to motivate the creature to pick up the pace. It warbled a deep insectoid rumble in return. He saw a dry riverbed and figured it was worth the attempt at gleaning some water from the soil below. He found a spot where the river turned and got out his shovel, smiling inwardly at how such a mundane implement was surely the most crucial thing he owned. The trick was to dig into the far bank, the one the long-gone current would have pushed against as it rounded the turn. And all he needed to find was mud. He'd learned well enough how to convert that to water.
As he dug, he considered the last item of prophecy. The Old Wanderer's words seemed to carry a lot of weight in the desert, and Eddrick hoped it would transfer to his own credibility with Nashaki. But the last bit, something about "bringing with you the howl." This was entirely too odd for any interpretation. Everyone knew that the caves of the Rahkrii howled with the wind. But if that was supposed to mean he was to bring his little bandit troop into the war, it was ridiculous. Eddrick knew damn well that the bandits were not going to join in a war. They'd be happy to help themselves to the spoils of a battlefield, and he understood that. Stones, he was their military strategist! He would never ask them to get themselves mixed up in this. But his own personal affairs were another matter.
He was well south of Nashaki, but hoped to glean a bit of water from the mud he was finding signs of, then perhaps the next day he would go north, and hope to find the ex-slave woman...what was her name?...Yulaine? Yuli-anne?
At least at that time they were keeping to the western half. It was where their two main strongholds were, both north of the city of Nashaki. But now they'd been out surveying new holds to the east. The other encounter there surely had some significance as far as other parts of the so-called "prophecy" were concerned. But did his inclusion into the bandit ranks have anything to do with it? The wandering seer had said something about him "joining the fight against the great enemy." The encounter in the east HAD involved a fight, but it was only about a half dozen on each side and had ended in a more or less stalemate after a few had died on each side.
But it was exact wording and inflection of the Reader's words that troubled him. The emphasis on "THE" Great Enemy. It was true that the small skirmish had involved the new northern power, the Raskithecal. Legions of one Immortal or another. Eddrick knew about the regular Ithecal; the ones from the island of Yithiral, or whatever. They occasionally turned up as slaves in Athart, which was where Eddrick was from. But these were different. It had pretty obviously been a scouting party, the same as his group had been.
It had him worried alright. A scouting party of some race he'd as yet only heard about. He'd heard about the Raskithecal from a Qi'ora diplomat from Nashaki, back when he was still a member of the Athartian Slave Raiders. He'd even had a subtle romance developing with her. But she'd been murdered, and he'd been blamed, and it was only the desperate desertion and escape that had kept his mind off his grief. He now hated Athart, and wanted greatly to redeem himself with Nashaki, more as tribute to her than anything else. She'd believed in her culture. But for all he knew, her death had been ordered by Nashaki and not Athart at all.
But she'd mentioned the aggressive Legions to the north, and how their maneuvers and war games had steadily advanced in Nashaki's direction. That was almost twelve arcs ago, and even then she'd feared an invasion would come "in the next ten arcs". So it seemed these Raskithecal were already two arcs overdue. And now he'd had an encounter with a scouting party way to the east. Well...that was not exactly Nashaki's back yard. But it could be the start of a slow political encirclement.
So now he was headed to Nashaki, and a different woman, one he'd freed from slavers as part of his need for atonement against his years as a slaver in Athart. His goal was not only to see if his standing with that city had changed from the "Wanted for questioning" status she'd told him of before, as well as to warn the city of possible attack by these "Rascals" to the north. He hoped, if nothing else, that this gesture may help convince any detractors that he was deserving of the benefit of the doubt.
He waved a stick remotely near his Poko mount's antennas, its sensitivity being more than sufficient to motivate the creature to pick up the pace. It warbled a deep insectoid rumble in return. He saw a dry riverbed and figured it was worth the attempt at gleaning some water from the soil below. He found a spot where the river turned and got out his shovel, smiling inwardly at how such a mundane implement was surely the most crucial thing he owned. The trick was to dig into the far bank, the one the long-gone current would have pushed against as it rounded the turn. And all he needed to find was mud. He'd learned well enough how to convert that to water.
As he dug, he considered the last item of prophecy. The Old Wanderer's words seemed to carry a lot of weight in the desert, and Eddrick hoped it would transfer to his own credibility with Nashaki. But the last bit, something about "bringing with you the howl." This was entirely too odd for any interpretation. Everyone knew that the caves of the Rahkrii howled with the wind. But if that was supposed to mean he was to bring his little bandit troop into the war, it was ridiculous. Eddrick knew damn well that the bandits were not going to join in a war. They'd be happy to help themselves to the spoils of a battlefield, and he understood that. Stones, he was their military strategist! He would never ask them to get themselves mixed up in this. But his own personal affairs were another matter.
He was well south of Nashaki, but hoped to glean a bit of water from the mud he was finding signs of, then perhaps the next day he would go north, and hope to find the ex-slave woman...what was her name?...Yulaine? Yuli-anne?
