Alarik's Crusade

Chapter 27: Water and Salt

They returned to the camp after a short while to find Inaya still resting, leaning against a log, her head tilted down. She looked up from the top of her eyes when they came closer, hardly giving them a second thought. However, at the sight of the many fish they caught, she stood up quickly and moved to the fire pit, beginning to try to set it alight.

“If I had known you two could have done that, then why was I even brought along for this crusade?” she asked.

“I’m a good fisherman,” Farmund answered, “but no hunter. I’m thinking I might be a little big. I scare off the animals the second I get within sight.”

They got to cooking quickly. It was clear to the other two members of the camp that Alarik was desperately wishing to talk strategy now, having given them their moment of reprieve although not quite having reached the full length of a day. Neither Farmund nor Inaya wished to act on it to give him a rest from his twitching and glances towards the river, however, and decided to eat their meal in peace, knowing that the trials ahead were going to be far from easy.

Once they had eaten the last bite the words spilled from Alarik like a dam bursting. “We’ll need to head west along the river until we can find a point that we can manage to cross. The river is not always this harsh. I don’t know how long the march will be, but we’ll find it eventually. We’ll leave markers here when it’s time to work our way backwards.”

“We’re still pressing on, then?” Inaya asked rhetorically.

“Yes. We’re finishing this. We’ve made it this far.”

Reluctantly, Farmund nodded his agreement. He was the first to stand and move to pack his things. “Before we go, we should salt and dry this fish. We’ll have to carry it with us. Can hardly let it dry for as long as we need to, but we’re low on options. By tomorrow morning, we’re marching again.”

Alarik searched through his pack for the salt. Then, he looked through his pack again. A third time. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he unpacked everything and sorted through it once more. “First the bandages, now this. We’re going to need that to bring the fish with us if we hope to preserve any of it for the travels ahead. I don’t understand…” He shook his head. “I checked my things at every stop. I had hardly used any thus far. We haven’t had enough meat to save, let alone cover our needs.” It wasn’t a slight against Inaya’s hunting prowess, but rather a simple stated fact. He cradled his fingers behind his neck and looked down at his pack.

Inaya bit her lip, but just for a moment. The prospect of having to hunt throughout the trip ahead was a devastating one, knowing how difficult the last leg had been, and knowing the other two were not experienced enough in the art to be sufficient. She was the forager - it would fall on her. “I have some salt,” she said.

“You do?” Farmund asked. “Why would you be given salt for this expedition? That was tasked with the crusade’s leader.”

“Perhaps I don’t trust the Vanderik with successful planning. If you were to look upon our trials thus far you might understand why,” she snapped back at him. Still, he squinted his eyes and looked at her again, but did not say another word.

“You two begin to lay some wood down to dry the fish,” Inaya suggested. “Cut them as they need to be. Farmund, you’re a fisherman? I’ll trust you know how.”

“I do,” he replied.

“Good. I’ll fetch the salt.” She stood up and moved to her pack, keeping her back to them. The salt was in a small sack that Alarik may have recognized - especially seeing as it was his. The vial she had been drinking from had made the small items to steal nearly irresistible. She had meant to only test the waters, seeing how the potion functioned, but found the feeling quite to her liking. Quickly, she switched out the salt with a waterskin that had gone long empty and had since dried. Thinking quickly, she saw it as her only option.

“Here,” she said while Farmund was gutting the fish and preparing it for drying. She tossed the waterskin to Alarik. He eyed it suspiciously. Farmund ceased his work for a moment to look at it out of the corner of his eye as well. Inaya feigned frustration with them. “When you live as a Khorsuli in Theolar you learn quickly to disguise nearly everything you have, lest it be taken from you. I beg your pardon that I don’t live as carefree as one of your kind when one of your kind would surely slit my throat if they had a chance. Look, even now I give my goods for free and I’m looked at with suspicion!”

Alarik raised a hand. “No suspicion here. Thank you for the salt. We’ll use it well.”

The rest of the day passed without trouble. After the sun set and they lay down to sleep, Inaya stirred from her slumber and quietly stepped through the night to Alarik’s pack, and took the salt back again. The potion allowed her steps to not even so much as rustle a leaf on the ground. She could have been a foot from Alarik’s face and not have disturbed him.

A rush of relief flowed through her as she clutched the waterskin. The thrill of stealing from the Vanderik was becoming less of a want and more of a compulsion. She scoured the bag further but found nothing of worth. She scowled. It hardly mattered, though. With Majad’s flask, she would be a scourge of all of Vanda, a thief of such quality she’d bleed the rich that started the war against her people down to their very last coin.

Her mouth went dry. She wished for more of the flask just at the very thought of it, but she abstained for now. She would need it when she returned to Theolar.