Chapter 6 - Part I

Two days had come and gone before the cusps of the Eirdred city walls had finally sunk into the dawn horizon. Until then, the city had stood vigilant and strong in the hazy surroundings of fields and woods, like a lone, worn molar in the gums of an old man. Long after the clay quarries had dissipated from the river shores, the scent of wet clay still hung on the caravan's clothing as a smooth aftertaste to the metallic smell of the road.

Onion had not initially understood the need for costly mercenary protection in this fairly gentle but increasingly desolate landscape. As the caravan moved further west, trees were rare among the wide open plains. There were few areas of shelter or ambush. Yet as they passed smaller, less armed caravans, light of cargo and bleeding, Onion felt renewed appreciation for the passive deterrence provided by the mercenaries peppered throughout the caravan. For her part, before the end of the six day week of the Chosen's calendar, Onion would begin to appreciate how danger could infest the lands that laid beyond the tendrils of the City of Eirdred.

On Dagleth'ir, the fourth day of knowing, the day of the keeper of Vem, the monotony of the low gradient plains ended violently. Mighty plateaus of earth hammered themselves towards the sky with cake layered lithology of shale and sandstone. The Eirdred of the Chosen Empire, scholars, explorers and cartographers, referred to this land as "The Explosive Might of Rel's Host"; Rel tau'chuik'ahr Mael elt (Rel, outward-forceful/explosion-adjective, Host (in religious terms only), particle for indicating possession by sentence subject) No mapmaker cared that long before the first Eirdren viewed this desolate land and long after the Eirdren were no more the great buttes would be known to the Soa as the "Tables of the Gods", Soasor Rhux.

The increasingly oppressive new summer sun bore upon the flat buttes and the caravan alike, but the space under eroded shale overhangs and between the cracks of stone slabs lived an entirely different world of greenery and shade. Here, the soils were poor and the indigenous peoples of rural Eirdred province had never attempted to master the land with cultivation. Native beasts, such as the horned butter yak served more use for sustenance than the parched grasses that tickled at Onion's feet could ever provide.

Occasionally the caravan would encounter sparse herds of the butter yak, and even more rarely, see evidence of the Soa hunters' successful kill. As a child, Cedric had read in detail about the minor peoples of Eirdred and their cultures. These quasi-nomadic tribes did well to keep their hunting parties away from the roads, or more specifically, away from the foreigners, including denizens of the city. Hundreds of years after the concession of their conquered lands to the administration of Eirdred City, few Soa claimed kinship with their lord. It was difficult for Cedric to imagine how the arm of the Eirdred nobility could ever reach these remote peoples. They lived in the freedom of anonymity and the chaotic stability of a hunter-gatherer lifestyle; a concept that had always scared the poor man to the core.

But the encounters with a herd or the bones of a yak carcass were very limited. For the majority of daylight hours, the land seemed as looming and empty as the sky; perfect conditions for the bandits of infamy. Still, the outlaws made no appearance to the healthy and robust caravan. Instead, Onion felt her bones turn to jelly when a group of Imperial Guards passed the caravan on Rüern'lir. They stopped the travelers and spoke at length with the Soa man Gregor had spoken to days before.

Even at the distance from which the lepers traveled from the main caravan, Onion could hear the Soa man become increasingly ill-tempered and shout angrily at the Guard in thickly accented Eirdren before the armored group laughed and moved on. As they passed her group of sick and pretending to be sick, the some of the Imperial Guards glared disdainfully but most gave them the courtesy of being ignored.