Liam looked over the horizon. He’d climbed the mountain until he reached the plateau where he knew he’d find the next village. He’d been told of this village on more than one occasion—it was the place one would go to find answers, and he was desperate for answers. Answers on how to get his life back, to move on from what had happened. Liam turned to look over the valley.
It was washed with warm light, the mist from the morning dissipating in the heat already settling in the valley. He was glad he’d chosen to climb the mountain at night—he might have fainted from the heat had he not. Liam turned back to the village and moved forward. He would hardly call it a village; more of a tent city than anything else. It could be picked up and taken anywhere if they chose to move.
As Liam drew closer, he saw little heads poking out from a tent and curious eyes watching him. He smiled to himself—children were always the same, curious of newcomers and quick to accept. Liam waved, eliciting giggles as several of the children withdrew. He grinned, walking closer to the tents. It wasn’t until he had passed the third tent that an adult made an appearance.
His skin was darker than the childrens’, likely from working longer hours in the sun cultivating the natural resources in the fields beyond. “Come,” he said in a heavily accented common tongue, motioning for Liam to follow him.
Liam didn’t hesitate—there was no reason not to follow the stranger. Without replenishing his supplies here, he would never make it to the next village or tent city in his travels. The sun was too hot and water too scarce to be picky. They walked in a dizzying circle of pathways until they approached the largest tent. Liam figured he was being taken to see the elders to decide if his presence was welcome or not.
The man pulled aside the flap of the tent but made no move to enter. Liam took the hint, hunching down to walk through.
There was an older gentleman leaning against a pile of pillows, the air around him hazy with smoke. He looked at Liam lazily before sitting up straight, his eyes sharpening. “No, you are not welcome here. You will bring war to us.” He motioned to two servants, who peeled themselves away from the tent walls to stand beside their master. “Bring him to the city. Take the horses and give him ten Ryal for supplies when you get there so he can leave our country.”
Liam looked around, shocked. He was insulted; he’d only had seconds before a judgement was made. He had come here in search of answers, and now that hope was dashed. “Can I at least rest first?” Liam asked. He was exhausted from climbing up the mountain all night. And maybe if he stayed, he could convince them to help find answers and clear his name.
“No, you must go. You can sleep in the city.” He waved his hands again, motioning toward Liam as though he were a foul smell to be wafted away.
Servants pulled Liam out of the tent and took him straight to the aforementioned horses. They had several grazing behind the tents, and they came when called. It did not take long for the Radovians to saddle the mounts—they were known for their skill with and breeding of horses. Only the richest could afford a Radovian horse in Aratia. It would be an honor for Liam just to ride one; the privilege took some of the sting away.
“Why am I being sent away?” Liam asked one of the servants.
“The great shaman is never wrong about anyone. If he thinks you are dangerous, you are dangerous.”
After that, the servants did not speak to him but simply got on their horses and waited for Liam to do the same. This, apparently, was going to be a silent trip for him. Maybe he could fall asleep in the saddle.
It took them only a few hours by horseback to get to one of the few structured cities in Radovan. As the years passed, they were becoming more prevalent, but many still kept the tradition of their ancestors and remained nomadic.
“Where are we?” Liam asked.
“Raniar.”
Liam recognized the name; they were in the second-largest city in the country, and closer to the Frasiscan border. He would have to buy supplies here in the city and then walk his way into Frasisca. It would only take him a week or two from where he was now, and certainly not the longest walk he’d ever taken. Liam had barely gotten off his horse when one of his guides grabbed the reins and started walking away. The other handed him a small leather purse that jingled when it moved before he left as well.
“Thank you,” Liam called after them, though he doubted they cared if he said anything at all.
He looked around, trying to figure out where to go. They’d dropped him in front of a coffee house. It was a good enough place to start. He could at least get sustenance and a recommendation on where he could sleep for the night. When he entered, he saw several men on pillows, smoking from long hoses connected to a water pipe.
Liam sat on an empty pillow near the back so he wouldn’t intrude and waited for someone to come to him. It didn’t take long, and he ordered a coffee and whatever kind of food they had available in broken Radovian.
“We can speak the common tongue here,” the waiter told him after bringing back his meal. It was a thick coffee and meat roasted on a stick, along with a cup of soup and flatbread on the side.
“Thank you.” Liam resisted the urge to shove the meat in his mouth before the waiter left.
It wasn’t long after Liam finished his meal when someone came up to him. “Excuse me, sir,” the man said. “There is a gentleman who would like you to join him, if you please.”
Liam looked around to see if there were any of his countrymen in the coffee house. There weren’t, but it was rude to turn down such an invitation in Radovan. He would have to go anyway. “Yes, I’d be honored.”
He was taken to an older man, who had a beard that reached his waist. It was blindingly white against his dark olive skin. He was surrounded by several other men, who looked much younger by far.
Liam gave a small bow when he reached the man. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
“This is the wise Siam Salik.”
“Liam, sir.”
“Sit, Liam.” Siam motioned to the cushion in front of him.
He did as he was bid, noting that the pillow was of a higher quality than the ones in the main part of the coffee house. “May I ask why you wanted me to join you?”
“I wanted to speak with you, Liam. Will you take doogh and poppy tears with me first?”
Liam hesitated. He wasn’t comfortable with the drugs, but it could turn lethal if he refused. He’d seen duels fought over refusing an invitation in Radovan. It was an insult to the asker’s honor if someone declined an invitation. “Yes, it would be my pleasure.”
One of the men behind them rose and poured them both the milky drink while another handed them pipes.
Siam Salik waited until their pipes were lit before speaking again. “I can see that you are alnnabil aleazim, a great nobleman. I would like to tell you of our history so that later it might help you.”
Siam told him of their great king and princes who fought for peace. Their neighbors to the south, before they became Salatia and Mekhor, waged constant war against the peaceful Radovians. They would kill any delegate Radovan sent, even though they came bearing the flag of truce to start peace negotiations. After the fourth delegate was murdered, Radovan declared war on Salatia. Radovan slaughtered nearly half the fighting men of Salatia, one of the driving forces that helped Anatalia divide Salatia into three countries twenty years later.
Liam had heard of these events before, but he was unsure of how it would be useful for him in the future. He watched as the wiseman took a long pull of his pipe. Liam respectfully pulled from his own, though not nearly as deep as Siam. The smoke wafting from them was already making his head light; he did not want to partake too much.
“I will leave you with one last thing, Liam, and you’ll know what to do with this advice when it comes time to use it,” Siam said. “Time changes all circumstances: one day the birds are eating the ants; the next, the ants are eating the birds. Remember always: time is more powerful than you can ever be, so do good in this world while you can.”
Liam looked around the room. The other men were nodding in agreement, and he followed along. “Thank you for sharing your history with me, and for the wise advice, sir.”
He was unsure of what to think of that experience. He had no idea what that advice meant, much less how he would use it later. Liam left the coffee house in search of an inn. In the morning, he’d head to Frasisca.