The crowd floated in no preordained direction; nameless faces tossed about in a turbulent and ever-changing sea. Today, Onion took a measure of comfort from the anonymity but remained at high alert, knowing that the jaguar always took one in the herd of painted rams.
Caravans and their wagons coalesced on the edge of the shanty town and that is where Gregor and Onion made their way. Groups of wéhkàu, great creamy white and brown, leathery bovines with ivory tusks jutting out from their jaws waited patiently by the ceder wrought carts the Soa peoples used to travel from their highland homes to the city periphery to trade. Native to the central plains, the wéhkàu were the only beasts of Eirdred province that could survive in either the lowlands of the coast or the high plateaus in the west while dragging along a family and their cart. They did not thrive in the Soan highlands, but thanks to their use in travel the Soa were rarely seen without them.
The wéhkàu dragged flat beds of hard woven straw on top of the four wheeled wagons lay exposed as their owners loaded up goods and children for the return ride, but thick sheets of wool adorned with long bell chimes awaited to be hoisted upon the square cart frames.
Onion had never seen the high desert dwelling Eirdren folk before, and had she lived in Eirdred City for 10 years she still might not have met one. Gregor, on the other hand, who had made the trip to Heilth and back several times in recent years, often had the opportunity to learn more about the peoples of the lands he traversed. That the peoples of the western part of the province were called Eirdren, citizens under the Red, held not the slightest significance to the thick bodied, leather-faced Soa. Their coarse, black wool hair, worn long and free, flat noses and black, epicanthic folded eyes held little in common Eirdren kindred. Their customs and tongue held even less in common.
Those who followed the paths of the migrating Soa, merchants and travelers headed to Heilth via the way-point Eora Swou, or Runner's Cross, at the crossroads of Soa territory, at the edge of the Chau'chàr desert. Most traveled in their own parties, avoiding the few Soa caravans that left the their homes to sell to lowlanders. They made their own preparations.
Eirdren merchants haggled with small time mercenaries and former GuardHands, trying to secure their products to the next town as cheaply as possible. Lone travelers and small families in turn haggled with the merchants, or if they were very desperate, with the Soa themselves, trying to seek the benefit of protected passage without the price tag of hired muscle.
Gregor and Onion passed a man, pleading with a gem dealer to afford a slot for his sick son and himself with an Eirdren caravan. The man's eyes told Onion that there wasn't much money to spare, and his cause was dire, but the dealer's visage was rock solid. There was no mercy in her eyes.
But not every interaction was doomed to failure. Another man was engaged in negotiations with a flax merchant not far off. The golden face of the old Scholar Emperor Maglen, known as The Merchant, exchanged hands and both men reached for the left shoulder of the other, signaling that a deal had been struck.
Onion was guided further out to the Soa caravans. Here, Eirdren were not to be seen save a few; the destitute and ill who needed to travel but would not be taken in by their countrymen. They passed a couple of Soa wagons, bustling with activity. Gregor had learned a few words in the tongue Sóa'ràu but the tonal language baffled him past light conversation. He doled out greetings to some of the older women who sat, piecing together baskets of flax and wool while they waited. At the sight of the blond man singing their tongue, they flashed a smile rarely shown to outsiders. They responded in kind, shín'shìr, peace and blessings, not once closing their lips on a word. For this reason, Gregor later told Onion, throughout the empire the Soa are known as the people of the open mouth.
"You will travel among these people," Gregor began, "When you leave at nightfall, you will no longer be Vren, you will be Gael, the leper, and you will be traveling with your brother, Leon to seek healing at the University on High.
Be careful. They will not mourn you if you fall behind. They will find no pleasure should trouble befall you, or should you be mugged or raped. But nor will they make much concern. You and Cedric are to stick as closely to them as they will allow, since that is the only way to ward off those who would do you harm."
"Széetù hau" nodded the huge, gruff Soa, as he caught the coin satchel Gregor tossed to him. The man whose wild black beard covered nearly all of his thick torso, offered a wide grin of stout yellow teeth to Onion, who could only begin to wonder where the winds were going to carry her spider next.
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