Verses of the Black Sands

TW: Themes of violence and gore. The following is a work of fiction.

The world beyond the ruins had quietened and made for an easy setting in which she could light her fire. It lit readily as she struck her stolen knife on the flint, licking at the grass, then taking a hold of the larger pieces of wood.

Urla removed her light, camel coloured cloak and moved out in front of the fire, facing southeast. Her aim was to make the flame appear deliberate and that anyone who looked upon it would know so. A simple fire could be any passing traveller who was foolish enough to stay in the ruins. But as she passed her outspread cloak in front of the fire in a constant, steady motion, it would be realised that a message was being sent. Whoever had lit the fire wanted attention. Maybe even help.

It was a good while before she heard the faint scuffle of leather against stone. She had fed the fire the last of the wood she had collected and continued her signalling before her visitor arrived.

She expected one of Laukey’s men but upon turning, she was surprised to see Laukey himself.

“What is this, Capelli?” he inquired, voice dangerously low. Her heart hammered in her chest but the knife she had stolen was slipped into her belt. Dropping her cloak to the side, she drew the weapon.

“Is this what you do?” he inquired. “This is how you repay my taking you in?” A sarcastic tone laced his voice. He might have even found himself humorous, Urla didn’t care. Either way, he was dangerous.

“You captured me,” she said. “You killed my people, took their animals and their water. I am no friend of yours.”

“Put the knife down,” Laukey said lowly. “Which one of my men gave you that?”

“I stole it–” she started.

“I know you stole it!” he roared. “Whose knife is that?”

“The one who tied me,” she said, not caring to protect any of Laukey’s men. She suspected he would pay for his carelessness. Laukey strode to the fire, kicking it out across the stone where it smouldered out and fell into the night over the ledge of stone.

She’d expected him to attack her so his actions caught her unawares. Anger flared in her as she lunged at him, knocking him to the stone. He thought he could just ignore her as he corrected her actions. As though she were some tiresome child. He had not heeded her at all, despite seeing her skill with blades at Belfin.

Her knife almost made it to his throat but he tossed her off, forcing her onto her back, one hand pinning her armed hand above her head, the other holding his own steel knife to her belly, his weight almost winding her. She expected he would slit her guts open and be done with her. But he rose, forcing the knife out of her grip.

As she stood, he grabbed her again, forcing her to stride backwards until her back was pressed against stone. Unarmed, she could do nothing but hope her throat remained uncut.

“Who were you signalling to?” he hissed, knife held to her throat.

“Anyone who notices,” she said.

“Are there settlements, south of here?” he inquired.

“You thinking of making friends?” she shot back, finding she no longer cared much if her life was taken. “Might have a nice little visit like you did at Belfin?” she added.

“I did what I needed to do in order for my men to survive,” Laukey said hollowly.

“We offered you what water and food we could,” she snarled.

“It was not enough,” Laukey responded and she saw some resentment there. If it was resentment for his actions in Belfin it was wasted on her. What he had done was unforgivable.

“And you needed camels,” she said emotionlessly.

Movement from the steps that led to the tower marked the entry of several of Laukey’s men.

“My lord?” one inquired, a dark haired man, shrouded in the shadows of night. “You have found the Capelli?”

That was what she was to them. The Capelli. Not even, ‘the woman.’ Barely a person. A foreigner in her own lands.

“What does it look like, Barir,” Laukey responded sarcastically. Barir muttered something unintelligible in awkward response. Laukey released her and motioned she go ahead of him. Back towards the stairs.