Damn

There have been times in my life when I relished the fact that I was right. That I had been correct in an assumption or prediction.

This wasn't one of those times.

I would have liked nothing more than to ride into camp and see those kids playing and share a cup of paga with Juu and laugh about dreams and specters that live in the night.

Instead I was laying here in a hollow keeping my head down and baking nicely in the heat of Lar Torvis. I figure this was a dusting spot for bosk at some point. Rolling in the dust to relieve themselves of parasites and such. Right now I was just thankful it was deep enough to hide the outline of my body.

It was hot though. My mouth was dry and my tongue was nothing more than a stick in my mouth. My stomach felt like a rock ... a dried out old empty rock. It felt like a million grains of sand scraped across my eyes every time I tried to blink. Dust coated the insides of my nose and all I could smell was dirt, grass and blood. My botas and almost everything else was still with my saddle. And my saddle was still with Kree, and Kree was laying dead as a bent wagon axle some twenty feet from me. But it might as well have been twenty pasangs for all the good it was doing.

I did have my bow and quiver and my lance. My bola had been hooked to my belt and I had one quiva as well. These things I fell with .... ran with. It wasn't much to have in the position I was in, but right now they were my best friends and no man ever felt stronger about his weapons than I did about mine right then. They were all that stood between me and those intent on making sure I never saw tomorrow's dawn. Right now though it was hotter than I ever thought it could be and dawn was a long .... long way off.