Craggy land separated Khi’ir and Seirkent. Some good many plateaus protruded in the region, and many canyons winded throughout. A few trees stood here and there, surviving by their own accord. Giant rocks hung in mid-air as though suspended and frozen in time, leaving travelers and wanderers in amazement. Broken arches curved through the air reminiscent of waves just before they crashed.
A trio of riders galloped across the broken lands between Khi’ir and Seirkent. The wind rustled their hairs and hoods. Their swords, buckled to their hips, clattered as the horses’ hooves clopped.
Here and there, fields of lightning blue bell flowers and fire orange mallows began to sweep across the dirt plains. They teemed and danced in unison from side to side, like an ocean of life where there should have been none. The horses rose to a brisk pace as though they were messengers of war.
As the middle sun reached its highest point, and its sisters crested to its side, the three riders found sanctuary in a rocky alcove in one of the many rock formations. The stillness of the land gave them peace to watch for any pursuers or any merchants they wished to ambush. They dismounted and unwrapped their hoods, revealing themselves to be women. One Sivyne, one D’homani, and one Niessen.
The Sivyne woman’s voluptuous lips spread as she drew a breath inward. She stood a head taller than either of her sisters. She appeared to be the lead, and her athletic figure seemed matched only by her wiry hair which she kept fashioned into a bundle of dreadlocks with a few loose strands hanging by her eyes.
The D’homani woman tended to the horses and tethered them to appropriate rock spires. The land proved poor for grazing, thus she produced some vegetables from the baggage strapped to the saddles. The Niessen woman possessed loose and smooth blonde and brown hair. She set about finding a place to sit within the alcove under the shade. She pulled out a small wooden doll from her robes and unsheathed a purple jambiya slung in cloth. She began to carve at the wood like a trained craftsman, every so often blowing the shavings away.
Besides the wind and the calls of a few beasts, quiet surrounded them.
“You shouldn’t have killed them,” the Niessen woman spoke.
The Sivyne woman was taken aback, but she gave the words some thought before responding, “They were pigs, they deserved to die,” the Sivyne woman did not look at the Niessen woman in the eye as she said this.
The Niessen woman looked up from her doll, only to see the back of her sister turned toward her. She seemed emotionless.
The Niessen woman sighed, “But we’re just thieves, not bandits or murderers.”
The D’homani woman looked away from the horses as she fed them.
“No Sada, we fight against injustice. The Khi’iri city watch is full of pigs, we did our part by weakening their ranks by a few.”
“But we never kill…” Sada returned to carving her wood doll, her voice softening and her gaze focused on the wood doll, “Besides that, we drew unnecessary attention, what if they begin to search for us? You didn’t have to kill them Naqiba, we were…”
“I’m sure the elf and that mercenary will take the burden of the blame. And even if they don’t…”
“But…”
“Enough. The deed has been done. There is no use dwelling on it,” Naqiba turned, her dark brown eyes trained on Sada, “And who I choose to kill is my decision, so don’t start moralizing with me. Need I remind you of how your mother died?”
Sada’s eyes flashed at Naqiba. They exchanged a long duel of stares. Naqiba relaxed her stance.
“I am not your enemy, Sada, they are,” Naqiba reminded her, “We are sisters, we must always remember who our enemy is.”
Sada said nothing as she returned to her doll. The silence returned for a moment.
Naqiba then addressed both of her companions, “Milo has told us of their plans. They journey to Seirkent, perhaps in a week. We will rally a few other brother and sister thieves to meet them outside the city before then. I’ve already assigned a few others to follow them as we speak.”
“Can we trust him?” Sada asked.
“We’ve done this with him before. This is nothing new,” Naqiba pulled her khopesh from its scabbard part way to observe the blade’s edge, “But the stakes are much higher for his rat friend.”