The loquacious girl then launched into a one-sided discussion about the merits of salting or drying meat for long-term storage, of all things. As she didn’t seem to require his participation, he focused on pulling the cart.
After the calming effects of a warm meal that night, As’ad asked a question that had been pricking at him for the last couple hours. “How did you follow me? I was very careful not to go to the inn Yusef recommended. And I never saw a glimpse of you.”
“Oh, I didn’t follow you,” she said lightly. “I just knew where you were going. More or less. I got a late start but, luckily, your camp was pretty easy to find the first night.”
He watched her try to offer a seed to Yasrukh. The brown-and-white rat eyed the offering with misgiving. No matter how much they loved food, they wouldn’t take it from just anyone.
“Thank you, by the way. For the tent and extra clothes,” she added when he stared at her blankly. “ I would have frozen without them.”
“Uh, you’re welcome?” He poked at the coals with a stick and wouldn’t meet her eye.
Rahma seemed content to sit quietly while slowly attempting to gain the trust of his pets. The rats were not fond of the growing cold and had been sticking close to his person when they weren’t huddled in their nests. Tonight, the wind had died down and the rats were taking advantage of the day’s residual heat. Khudha hadn’t hissed again, but she kept her distance from the stranger. As’ad hadn’t seen any scratching or growling from the others, either. It was likely only a matter of time before Rahma achieved enough familiarity not to be avoided. He didn’t know whether she would ever earn the affection of his pets, though. They could be somewhat particular.
Waiting for Rahma to fall asleep was an exercise in patience that As’ad didn’t think he had. He still needed more supplies, but her return complicated things. When she finally entered her tent and remained still for twenty minutes, he pulled out his maps. The dying fire barely illuminated the parchment. The moon was waxing, but the clouds that scuttled across its face far too frequently made it hard to read.
Eventually, As’ad gave up and returned the maps to their case. Yasruhk and Sarir were far too excited to see him. He worried that their excited chitters would wake Rahma, so he put them in his pockets before setting out. While the moon’s illumination was too feeble for map-reading, it was plenty sufficient for guiding his steps. By his estimation, the next village was within a two- or three-hour walk. Their unexpected guest made the need for food and funds more immediate. And more inconvenient.
Too far north of the border for much jungle foliage, As’ad wasn’t sure what kind of village Qarya was. It didn’t look like it was set on an oasis, according to the map, but everyone needed water. Perhaps they had some very deep wells. To his relief, the trip was accomplished in the time frame he expected.
Qarya lay dark and silent as he approached the small village. The few dogs seemed to be of a lazy sort, and As’ad’s investigation was only interrupted by a bark or two. The rats in his pocket responded by hunkering deeper into the fabric.
As predicted, the village’s water appeared to be sourced from multiple wells. A small quarry at the edge of town looked, at first, like a possible place to dispose of his fake rats, until he realized it was now serving as an aquifer. He couldn’t risk even pretending to contaminate their water sources. Which meant he needed to convince them to create a bonfire or something equally inconvenient.
On the trek back to camp, As’ad contemplated his options. The most thorough form of evidence disposal was a large fire that was hot enough to reduce any “rat skeletons” to ash. The difficulty in this region came from procuring enough burnable material without asking the inhabitants of the town to sacrifice things like furniture. He had once dashed all the rats into a bottomless crack in an abandoned quarry some months ago. But no one had been using it to hold drinking water, and getting the villagers to push a heavy rock over the top hadn’t been problematic. Qarya was a thorny problem that thwarted his best thinking. Though, at this time of night, he could hardly be accused of being at his best. If he wasn’t running so low, he would consider skipping it for the next town.
Feeling dull-witted and slow, As’ad climbed into his tent a few hours before dawn, intending to figure something out then. His pocket companions made an appearance and danced around his head in some game he couldn’t follow. But even their enthusiastic scampering couldn’t keep him awake, and he soon drifted off into dreamless sleep.
Rahma woke before him and had already begun preparing breakfast when he crawled out of his tent the next morning. He thanked her and ate. He was so focused on finding a solution, he couldn’t have identified the food items two minutes after. Uncharacteristically, the interloper maintained her silence.
When As’ad broke from his musings and went to care for his rats, he saw that she had already seen to their water and arranged the canvas covering. With nothing else demanding his attention, As’ad took out his shaving things and removed the scruff. He still didn’t have a plan of action but wanted to be prepared.
Apparently, this change of events was too much for Rahma, and she opened her mouth. “Why are you shaving?”
“I feel the need to look presentable today.”
“Is that why you favor the more traditional robes?”
Asad wasn’t sure how she made that connection. It was a pleasant side effect, but mostly they were easy. “I don’t like all the buttons on the more modern styles.” He spared a look for her. “Your clothes are more traditional.”
Rahma nodded as she ran a hand down her knee-length tunic that covered her pants. “I find them both comfortable and flattering.”
As’ad tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Admiring her figure wouldn’t help anybody. The exasperating girl grinned at him.
Scraping a sharp blade across the delicate skin of his face had never been a dangerous endeavor before. Having a rapt audience made him aware of just how badly this could go.
“Haven’t you ever watched your father shave before?” he asked his observer in an attempt to get her to look elsewhere.
“Sure.”
He paused the process to give her a look. She shrugged.
“You’re more fun to look at.”
His face grew hot, and he couldn’t think of a single safe response. Eventually, As’ad completed the activity—without drawing blood, somehow—and they set out. He had more or less decided to try something that had worked for him once in the past. A few months ago, he had been a little sloppy scoping out the next town. He hadn’t been desperate for supplies yet, so he had taken less care than he should. The townsfolk had guessed his identity before he’d had time to set things up.
In that one instance, being recognized without having first “rescued” anyone from rats had worked out in his favor. They believed the rumors they had heard from other travelers that he was researching the rat problem. His appearance in town was assumed to be an attempt at discreet investigation. He did nothing to disabuse them of this notion, and filled the role they were expecting. He asked all the questions and checked out all the buildings, escorted by willing residents who were hoping he knew how to keep the plague from getting to them. An added bonus of that encounter was the abundance of supplies they had bestowed on him just for telling them what to watch out for. Or maybe they were simply grateful for his alleged humanitarian efforts?
Qarya didn’t have an ideal setting for his con, but they were quite likely to have heard of him by now. He rather hoped they would find it in their hearts to outfit him for the next leg of the journey. He wouldn’t come right out and ask, of course. But while he “investigated,” he could easily let it slip that his supplies were running low. Maybe they would gift him enough to make it to the next con-worthy town.
