C4 Chapter 4: Robbery in the Steppes

That same evening, the three travelers reached the small town of Kûlan, which lay just beyond the border between Thordám and Zûldaján. In addition to the three horses, they had also

asked the count of Brigo for two mules, which he had grudgingly provided, though probably just to get rid of his unwelcome guests as fast as he could.

With their luggage distributed between the mules, they had ridden the entire day without exchanging a word, crossing the border early in the evening. To Nikko's surprise, the soldiers on both sides of the border had let them cross completely unmolested, simply waving them through, while at the same time thoroughly searching everyone else passing through. They did not even have to pay a toll.

No guard stopped them at the gate of the walled town, either. As soon as the soldiers saw the prince riding in front in his uniform, they just nodded and cleared the road for him to pass through.

“Tell me, soldier,” Fydal said as he walked his horse through the gate, “where can one find a decent place to spend the night here?”

“The hostel at the market is the best place in town,” the guard replied with a bow.

The marketplace was easy enough to find, and the hostel, too. It was a majestic building that catered to the many traders who used the major trade route. Could they even afford a night there? Nikko did not know if the prince shared his concern. But it was clear that the pampered prince would rather spend their last piece of silver than sleep somewhere he considered to be beneath his dignity. In any case, they still had more than four silver pieces left.

Fydal rented single rooms for each of them, then quickly disappeared into his. He seemed to have no interest in eating with either Nikko or Danuwil. Nikko, too, felt no great desire to eat alone with Danuwil, so he also went to his room, preferring to eat by himself in there.

Some time after he had finished his dull repast—which, he knew, he might have enjoyed if he were not alone—someone knocked on his door. I hope it isn't Danuwil, he thought, and said, “Enter.”

Fydal stepped into the room. “Sorry I didn't want to join you for dinner. But you probably know—”

“Of course,” Nikko interrupted him with a smile. “I don't feel much like Danuwil's company either. I still can't really believe what's happened.”

“I know what you mean,” Fydal smiled back. “But we still have a long way ahead of us and not much money. I don't know how we're supposed to make it through.”

“At least we don't have to buy horses or pack animals anymore,” said Nikko encouragingly.

“That's true,” said the prince. “But the beasts are eating the last coins out of our once so well-filled purse. One night here is costing us almost two whole silver pieces.”

“Two silver pieces?” Nikko said in shock. “What do we do? It won't be long before we're left stranded.”

“Indeed,” sighed the prince. “Maybe I should have budgeted more sparingly. But I think that I—we—can be forgiven this one night spent decently. But from tomorrow, we have to be rigorous with the little we have left.”

“Maybe we really ought to join with a caravan,” Nikko suggested. “We won't be able to hire any mercenaries with the few coins we've got left.”

“Oh, whatever!” Fydal grumbled. “I'm a good fighter and well armed. And don't forget who you are and what you're capable of! With your magic wand on our side, we'll be safe enough.”

The wand, Nikko thought. Should he confess to the prince that he no longer had the weapon in his possession? Better not to, he decided, although he wasn't sure why. Besides, he still had the dagger from the courier on the Vyldam Pass, so he wasn't entirely defenseless.

“And we've got Danuwil with us,” he murmured, trying to give himself a little courage.

“I don't know if I ought to give Bregánt back his sword,” mused the prince. Then, awkwardly, he said, “I really can't afford to bail him out of any more dungeons.”

The trio left the hostel very early next morning. Strangely, it was Danuwil, who had developed a reputation as a late sleeper, who woke first, long before Nikko and Fydal. The nobleman had even settled their tab and had their horses and pack mules readied for the journey ahead, so he did still have a few coins at his disposal. The prince, however, seemed too proud to open the topic with the nobleman.

They traveled wordlessly for the entire day, following the road that led toward Zundaj. Only once did they encounter a small group of merchants traveling in the opposite direction. But with the two pack animals in tow, they did not make good time, and it looked like being another two weeks before they reached their destination. Not a pleasant prospect, Nikko thought. His rear was already sore after one day in the saddle.

They did not stop to rest until the evening. The young sorcerer would have liked a long break at midday, but had not trusted himself to break the silence that had fallen over them. He felt that it was probably the same for his two companions.

Now all three sat around the campfire that Danuwil had built and ate dried fruit and bread, their dinner that evening.

“Ask away,” the nobleman suddenly said, fixing his eyes on Nikko. “I can see you have a great many questions.”

“I don't know where to start,” Nikko said sullenly.

“I'm not proud of what happened that night,” Danuwil admitted. “On the other hand, I really can't remember too many of the details.” “Oh, very good. Blame the alcohol,” the prince said with a sneer.

“What do you want me to say?” Danuwil grumbled. “The harlot should have felt herself honored that a man of standing—”

“As if that's what it was about!” Fydal interrupted him harshly. “The count even let you off that particular hook. But the landlord?

How could you do that?”

“The landlord had no right getting in my way. I'm a man of standing, and he was nothing!” He had been shouting, but then he lowered his voice again and said, “Still, as I said, I'm not proud of how I acted, and I am not indifferent to the fate of the family. If I had not been compelled to leave so abruptly, I would have been able to demonstrate my generosity to them.”

But the prince was not about to accept that. “Don't talk nonsense, Bregánt! The townspeople wanted to string you up. I had to put you under the protection of my house just so you could escape the gallows.”

“Really?” Danuwil seemed astonished. “One would think that the count wouldn't give a damn about what the locals wanted. To hang a man of standing for such a trifle … well, it's unthinkable!” He seemed to consider this for a moment. “Still, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And it goes without saying that I will pay back the ransom that the count no doubt blackmailed out of you. With interest, naturally.”

“Do you have any idea how much your freedom cost me? You might have paid our landlord this morning, but I doubt you've got such a pile of money tucked away in your baggage.”

“The count's jailers certainly dug deep into my pockets, but they left me a few coins. And some they didn't even find.”

“We're not talking about a few silver pieces,” Fydal said ominously. “The count relieved me of a hefty five hundred coins, and that was only after some hard bargaining.”

From one moment to the next, Danuwil's face drained of blood. “I'm sorry? You threw five hundred silver pieces down the gullet of a fellow renowned for his greed throughout the kingdom? Oh, dear!” “Was that too much?” Nikko asked. “He wanted a lot more. The prince really had to haggle.”

“Of course it was too much!” Danuwil shook his head. “Now I can see why you're so angry.”

“Then how much should we have paid?” the young sorcerer asked.

“All he's really entitled to is the loss of tax earnings, although the guesthouse will be open for business again very soon, no doubt,” Danuwil said. “Then perhaps some sort of compensation for the landlord's family. All in all, no more than ten, perhaps twenty silver pieces.”

“Then the count cheated us!”

The nobleman laughed. “Cheated? No. He can ask for whatever he wants. That he twists the facts in his favor, well … that's the custom here in the south. Much more than it is for you in the north. The money is gone, that much is certain. Still, I will pay back the full amount. You couldn't know that the count wanted to swindle you. At the same time, I certainly don't have five hundred silver coins hidden in my boots, although I do have a little more than twenty, which is, of course, at your disposal. When we reach Zundaj, I can repay part of the sum. The rest I will have to have sent from Bregánt. Have no fear, Highness, you will get all of it back.”

The prince responded with a satisfied nod. It looked as if the money really was what mattered most to him … that, and his reputation. And with the nobleman's twenty extra pieces of silver, they would still be able to fund their ongoing journey.

Nikko would have preferred to return to Kûlan immediately and hire a few warriors as bodyguards, but the prince had other plans, and Nikko had to make do with the knowledge that, so far, they had not faced any serious danger.

Traveling on was far more pleasant, simply because they were speaking to one another again. Perhaps not as frequently as they had in the past, but at least the agonizing silence was over.

But what was becoming increasingly unbearable was the climate. It was getting hotter and hotter, drier and drier. The lush vegetation around Thordám thinned out, and gave way to hardy thorn bushes and dry grass. All one could see on the horizon were barren hills colored an inhospitable ocher. How could anyone survive out here? Nikko wondered, recalling the luxuriant mountain meadows and dense spruce forests of his homeland.

On the fourth night after leaving Kûlan, the last outpost of civilization they had seen on the long road, the trio stopped for the night and quickly lit a campfire. Although the days were hot, the nights could still be chilly. And the fire also promised protection from wild animals, especially the notorious coyotes … Danuwil warned them constantly about how dangerous packs of the beasts could be. Sometimes at night they heard them howling in the distance, but, fortunately, they would not come near the fire. As a result, the three travelers had decided that they could get by without taking watches. Because there were only three of them, sitting up on watch would mean losing too much sleep.

As usual, they had eaten a brief dinner and chatted a little. Since that evening three days earlier, they had not returned to the subject of Danuwil's crime in Brigo. The prince seemed to have contented himself with knowing that he would get the ransom back within the foreseeable future. Their conversation focused more on the stretch still ahead. Danuwil gave them to understand that they would put the steppes behind them within a few days and be able to sleep in decent beds in guesthouses again, because there would be villages and towns appearing along the road to Zundaj.

With such a positive outlook, Nikko quickly fell asleep. At first, he slept soundly, but later he suffered a nightmare more unpleasant than any he'd ever had before. He dreamed he was paralyzed, and that horrible, crawling insects were creeping underneath his clothes, penetrating wherever they could.

Next morning, he woke awash with sweat and feeling sick. It was surprisingly bright, although in the previous few days they had always woken early and been underway by sunrise, wanting to make the most of the cooler hours of morning. Something was wrong!

But before he could do anything else, Nikko had to give in to the nausea. When his stomach was empty, he tried to clear his thoughts. His skull throbbed painfully, as if he had drunk too much the night before, but he had not. He hadn't drunk alcohol for days. Through blurry eyes, he saw that Danuwil and Fydal were still lying there in their underclothes. But where were the horses, the mules, all their luggage? All he could find was his own backpack, which he'd been using as a pillow. He opened it quickly, but the only thing inside was the heavy book. Everything else was gone! All their provisions, the last few coins! What was going on?

His two companions were still asleep. Or were they unconscious? Nikko tried to shake the young prince awake, and when Fydal finally started to move, he too had to throw up. That could not be a coincidence! In a panic now, Nikko shook Danuwil awake, and he also had to vomit immediately.

“What's going on? What's happened?” Fydal asked, his voice still sleepy.

“I don't know,” Nikko stammered. “All of our things are gone!”

Danuwil sat up in surprise? “What? How …?”

“I think we've been robbed,” the young sorcerer said excitedly. “Everything's gone except the book.”

“Hold on,” said Fydal. “Slow down, please.”

“Oh,” Danuwil groaned, looking around their camp. “This doesn't look good at all. We should have a set a watch after all.”

“Where is my equipment?” the prince cried. “My sword? My armor? My shield? This can't be true! I'm standing here in nothing but my underclothes! I want my things back!”

“So do I,” Danuwil said, to calm him down. “But we need to stay calm and think this through. What do we have left?”

“All I have is my backpack with the book and a few bits and pieces,” Nikko reported, realizing that the two halves of the broken seal from Thorodos's letter were also still there. “The food and money's gone.”

Nikko imagined with revulsion how the thieves must have searched him as he slept. He remembered the nightmare with the crawling insects, which apparently had some basis in reality after all.

“What about your wand!?” said the prince, horrified, and dragged the young sorcerer out of his thoughts.

“Oh, that,” Nikko stammered. “Actually, the Master in Terys took it away from me. And it's lucky he did, I guess I'd have to say now.”

“All right, good.” Fydal took a breath, trying to settle himself down. “Let's go through everything and find out what we've got left.”

The list was not long. Apart from Thorodos's book, the thieves had left only a few other papers. It looked like they weren't big readers. But the weapons, armor, provisions, money and animals were gone. Fydal and Danuwil were left with nothing but their underwear; it was a scene that, in other circumstances, Nikko would have found hilarious. But the bandits apparently did not think enough of Nikko's robe to take it, although his boots, and those of his companions, had also disappeared.

The sorry trio was left standing barefoot in the steppes, with no real idea of what to do next. Already, it was late morning, and very soon, the sun would be beating down on them, reminding them that such terrain was no place to be without well-filled waterskins.

“What are we supposed to do now? How are we supposed to go on like this?” Nikko was almost in tears.

“This is all your fault, Bregánt,” the prince sniffed. “Without that … business in Brigo, I would have had more than enough silver to hire mercenaries in Kûlan. I could have hired a damned army!”

“And who says we wouldn't have still been robbed?” the nobleman defended himself. “We were obviously drugged, so it's clear that the thieves could have put even a bigger group than the three of us out of commission, and hoped for even more loot.”

“Don't be ridiculous. What band of outlaws would try their luck against a dozen armed warriors? Besides, we could at least have set some of them as watchmen.”

“With the silver I had, we still could have hired a few men,” Danuwil countered. “It would have done for enough to keep watch through the night. All you had to do was ask—”

“Enough!” Nikko cut him off. “This won't get us anywhere. Let's try and work out what to do now.”

Fydal turned away in anger, but Danuwil said, “There are only two possibilities. Either we try to get our hands on whoever robbed us and get our things back again. Or we continue along the road toward Zundaj. Considering our … meager resources and lack of food, I think the first option would be sheer suicide.” He examined the ground around their campsite briefly, then went on, “It could be hours or days before we find the bandits' trail. And who knows if we'd be any match for them without weapons? But if we follow the road, then we'll be out of the steppes in two or three days and saved. With a little luck, we'll meet some other travelers … maybe we'll find help like that.”

“We should stay where we are,” Fydal grumbled, though Nikko suspected he did so only to gainsay the nobleman. “Even if we met other travelers, we couldn't count on their help. We have absolutely nothing to offer. Damn it all!” the prince suddenly shouted, his face red with fury. “Barefoot through the steppes, in nothing but our underclothes. Where will it end? It's a disgrace!”

“But if it's the only possibility …” Nikko said, trying his best to calm the prince down.

“We should go,” Danuwil said, with a trace of warning in his voice.

“Every minute we waste here isn't getting us any closer to our goal.” But going on, even on the first day, soon became agony. By midday, the sun had heated the road beyond the point where it was bearable to walk barefoot. But off the road there were too many sharp stones and too much thorny scrub, forcing the trio to take shelter for the afternoon behind a rocky promontory, which at least offered a little shade. Their throats were already parched, but there was no sign of water far and wide.

“Why didn't the bandits simply cut our throats?” Danuwil muttered, urging them to get moving again late in the afternoon. “Then at least we'd have been spared this torture.”

“Maybe they're watching us, watching to see the pain they're putting us through,” the prince replied sarcastically.

“But who are they?” Nikko wondered aloud as they moved off.

“Not slavers, obviously,” Danuwil joked.

Once they were walking again, though, they made good time and had soon covered a substantial distance, only stopping again when the night became pitch black. A chill had entered the air, too, and they would have preferred to keep moving, but the danger of wandering off the path in the darkness was too great.

Unfortunately, the cold was not able to mask the penetrating thirst that had been plaguing them. The prospect of finding no water the next day, either, almost drove at least Nikko to despair.

Because they had no way to make a fire, they could only hope that they would not fall victim to a pack of coyotes in their sleep, but they deemed it a good omen that they had not heard them howling that night.

Shivering in the cold, the three sorry figures huddled together, hoping that sleep would soon release them from their misery.

They woke with the first rays of dawn. None of them had slept much, but they moved on quickly, wanting to cover as much territory as possible in the cool morning hours. They were well aware that the merciless sun would soon force them to rest through the middle of the day.

Late in the morning, though, the three wanderers saw something that they had no right to expect: a small copse of conifers, standing in the otherwise treeless steppes. Lucky, too, that the road turned in that direction, apparently making a detour for just that purpose.

“I don't remember that patch of woods at all,” Danuwil said with surprise. “Or is this the waterhole I'd been hoping to reach in a day or two? Have we come so far?”

Perhaps two hours later, they finally reached the copse and were overjoyed to find that the trees were, in fact, growing around a small pool. Almost crazy with thirst, they plunged into the water, enjoying its coolness, drinking their fill.

They stayed in the waterhole for a long time before lying out in the midday sun to dry. Although happy at having silenced his thirst, Nikko now realized how hungry he was. No doubt it was the same for his companions. The young sorcerer looked up at the trees around him, not hoping for anything in particular. They offered nothing but dry pinecones. The undergrowth around the edge of the pool also offered little chance of a meal. Were they supposed to starve to death there? They would probably have to move on again soon, but how could they take water with them? Nikko's backpack was certainly not watertight.

“So what do we do now?” he asked the others, glad at least that the decision was not just his to make.

“At least we won't die of thirst here,” said Fydal.

“But we will starve if we don't move on soon,” Danuwil countered.

“It would take us a long time to die of hunger,” the prince said. “Much longer, at least, than to die of thirst once we leave this oasis.

Maybe we should wait here for help.”

“It's like I said before. We can't count on any help from other travelers. I don't need to tell you what would happen if we had the bad luck to run into slave traders first.”

“Slave traders? I thought you were joking about that yesterday.”

“Unlike Thordám, the slave trade is widespread in Zûldaján,” the nobleman said. “It may be that the slavers travel as far as Kûlan from time to time, but don't go on to the grand duchy.”

“In that case,” the prince decided, “we'll stay here until the day begins to cool off, then move on this afternoon.”

Nikko, who had been terrified at Danuwil's mention of slavers, would have liked nothing more than to move on there and then, but even he realized that the little copse was the best place to wait out the midday heat.

Perhaps an hour or two later, with the sun still high in the sky and the steppes around them shimmering in the heat, the young sorcerer suddenly noticed a cloud of dust. Without doubt, it was approaching from the same direction they had come, and most likely from the road.

“Look!” he shouted to his companions, who were lazing by the water.

“A caravan?” Danuwil wondered. “Perhaps we should wait here for them.”

“And what if they're slave traders?” Nikko asked fearfully.

The nobleman shook his head. “I wish I'd never put that idea into your minds. We can hide in the bushes, if you like. In the unlikely event that it is a slave train, we would see it in time.”

Nikko's heart was thumping as the caravan approached along the road. But Danuwil was soon able to reassure them that they were definitely not dealing with slave traders. It was just a normal caravan. Slavers could be recognized because they would be traveling with a gang of slaves chained together. Nikko was relieved, and Fydal, too. They could at least hold out some hope that the people in the caravan might show them some compassion and take them along.

“Better let me do the talking,” said Danuwil, when the caravan rolled into the copse. “I know my way around southerners better.” He stepped forward and spoke clearly to one of the riders: “Greetings!”

“Greetings!” the rider replied. “What misfortune have you suffered?”

The rider had obviously taken in the miserable situation of the three companions at a glance. Fydal and Danuwil, after all, had been marching through the dusty steppes in their underwear for nearly two days. Even the long bath in the waterhole had done little to improve their appearance.

“We were robbed,” the nobleman explained. “Two nights ago, we woke up dazed and nauseous and saw that nearly everything we had was gone.”

“You're not from here,” said another rider, who had reined in his horse beside the first, along with several others. “Or you'd know how foolish it is to travel through the desert unprotected.”

“Forgive me,” the nobleman replied. “I am Danuwil o …, from Bregánt. These are my two companions. I was not aware that the steppes were so treacherous.”

“From Bregánt?” said a third rider in surprise. “Then you're a long way from home. It's true; the steppes have become more dangerous in recent months. But they have never been truly safe.”

“Have other travelers been robbed?” Danuwil asked. “I mean, ambushed like we were?”

“Not many. But some, certainly,” the rider replied. “There are few who venture across the steppes in small groups these days.”

“What do you know about these brazen bandits?” Fydal now asked, excited. “Who are they?”

“No one knows,” the rider replied. “So far, no one has managed to catch even one of them. They stupefy their victims with poisonous fumes, then rob them of everything they have.”

“Then there's no chance of getting our equipment back?” the prince asked.

“Unlikely. Until today, nothing that's been stolen has ever turned up again. Be happy that you're still alive. Their victims don't always get away unscathed.”

“Are you traveling to Zundaj?” Danuwil asked.

“Yes,” the rider replied. “I'm sure you want to travel with us, too. I can hardly blame you.”

Danuwil said, “We would gladly go with you. But we have nothing left but our underwear.”

“What about him?” a fourth rider asked cautiously, pointing to Nikko, who was still wearing his robe and carrying his backpack.

“Novice Nikko. The honor is mine,” the young sorcerer introduced himself.

“A Novice of the Order?” said the rider, taken aback. Then, rather unctuously, he added, “Of course you can travel with us. It would be the highest honor for us to be of service to the Order.”

“Thank you,” Nikko said shyly, utterly surprised at the rider's offer. In the remorseless steppes, he had again forgotten that sorcery— even his novitiate in the Order—seemed able to open any door. No one in the entire realm, it seemed, wanted to be on wrong side of the Order.

Before going on, the caravan stopped briefly at the oasis to refill its water supplies. Besides the riders, who were mainly there as protection for the caravan, there were a dozen wagons, all packed with goods. The traveling merchants willingly provided Fydal and Danuwil with the same white garb the others wore, and generously gave them light footwear, as well.

Most welcome of all, though, was all the delicious food. Finally, the trio could eat their fill again, and all three went to work with gusto on the succulent fruit and sweet pastries they were offered.

Nikko wondered quite earnestly whether the caravan would have been so willing to help if he had not revealed himself to be a Novice of the Order. Ultimately, it was his brown robe—now, in places, torn and far from clean—that had gained them the opportunity to travel on in such comfort.

Half an hour after it arrived, the caravan set off again at a sedate pace in the direction of Zundaj. The three companions had made themselves comfortable on one of the wagons. Until that moment, Nikko felt, they had been pursued by misfortune; now they could again hope to put the rest of their journey behind them without any more incidents.