“Just like the good old days, isn’t it?” Kolt asked Lerran as their horses walked quietly along the dirt road.
Though the rainy clouds had covered them the last few days, only a few traces of grey remained in the sky and the partially blocked sun beat down on Lerran with the heat to melt a candle or cook a pork. Sweat dripped from Lerran’s forehead into his eyes and he started rubbing them, only to find them so dry it hurt. When at last he recovered, he had only to deal with the overwhelming layer of sweat on the inside of his legs from the heat of his horse. They’d be better off walking the Barren Road, except for how much longer it would take.
He looked over his shoulder at Kolt as Ash, Lerran’s horse, led their party west. “Nothing good about it,” he said. The other guards, Sam, Tannedo, and Natar, were equally worse for wear: a few had donned headbands for what little good it did.
“Oh, it’s alright. We’re about halfway,” Paksis said. She rode alongside Lerran on that enormous steed. She still wore a dark tunic, but had torn off the sleeves. Any other woman who travelled the Barren Road would have stripped down to their waists like Lerran and the men had, no matter what culture or modesty they hailed from. This was one of the most brutal places in the Mapped World, but Paksis barely sweat at all.
“Aren’t you hot?” Lerran asked.
Paksis smirked. “I’m not removing any more clothing, fool man.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lerran said. He had no desire to see anymore of the beast-like woman’s strange features. “You’re barely sweating!”
“I absorb the heat, true,” Paksis said, “but my skin is too thick to sweat, it seems. I have a headache a hundred times worse than you can imagine though, and I feel dried right out. Can I ask a question of you, now?”
“Of course,” Lerran replied. He wiped his forehead again.
“You’re a criminal, right, you and your Family have all sorts of crimes and are open to any potential ways of improving business. There’s probably nothing you wouldn’t do, unless it was a bad deal, right?” Paksis said, though Lerran figured she was still introducing her true question. Nonetheless she waited for his reply.
“We’ve trafficked bootleg, drugs, weapons, humans,” Lerran said. “Under my employ are the household staff and soldiers you have seen, as well as contract killers and assassins, thieves and forgers, whores—all manner of good-doers, wouldn’t you say? Oh, and smugglers, don’t forget the smugglers.”
Paksis smirked. “Oh, definitely.” For a few moments their horses carried them along in relative silence, until her mirth faded and she said, “I saw your face the other day when that strange thunder echoed from the east. You were worried, until we chalked it up to the heat. But you weren’t worried for Sheld, not in that instinctive moment. You were worried for your wife, weren’t you?”
Lerran set his expression blankly and looked ahead of them. The hard dirt road was a winding one that followed the relative edge of the slowly expanding jungle, while south of them was only rocky fields and the occasional tuft of hardy grass. “What’s your point, Paksis?” He didn’t enjoy her insightful commentary, especially in front of his men.
“I was just surprised is all,” Paksis said. “That no matter how… ‘complicated’ your life gets, your relationship with Tassina is as simple as genuine love. No crime or politic or profit.”
“Enough talking. I want to find a good spot to camp tonight,” Lerran said and prodded his horse into a trot. The others were forced to do the same, but Paksis no longer rode at his side. I think I’ll drink some rum tonight, he thought, though he was running sadly low and would likely expire his bottle before they reached Lo Mallago. They were only halfway.