Desert Rhapsody - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jiang Yuan trudged beneath the blazing sun, her mouth parched by the terrible heat. This was somewhere on the Gobi, on the edge of a wasteland. Rolling dunes rose in the distance, while beneath her feet the rocky ground was slowly turning to sand. Tough grasses occasionally pushed up through it, slipping into the cracks of the ragged sheepskin wrapped around her feet and grinding together with the loose sand. Every step was agony, and the path was brutally uneven.

More than twenty people staggered along with her: merchants from Persia and Damascus, Black slaves from Egypt and Central Africa, warriors from Turkey and the Turkic tribes. They had come from all corners of the world, yet now they were treated exactly the same-strung together with rope and driven forward like livestock. They were all spoils taken by bandits, handpicked from a caravan because they were still worth selling or ransoming. For now, they were being taken with the rest of the goods to the bandits’ stronghold.

“Are your shoes coming loose, Jia Nan?”

The old man tied to the camel beside her asked in a thick, muddled accent. His graying beard was full of grit. “Hold on, lad. I can see far. Another two smokes’ worth of walking and we’ll reach an oasis.” All of them were wrapped in robes, their heavy breathing rasping from behind wind-blocking face coverings. Jiang Yuan shook her head. Even opening her mouth tore at her cracked lips, filling her tongue with the taste of salt and blood. The bandits rode past on patrol, shouting as they went, their leather whips cracking through the air above their heads with a terrifying snap. She forced out, “I’m fine, Adnan. You’re the one who needs to hold on.”

Adnan was the first person Jiang Yuan had saved after arriving here. He had collapsed alone in the desert with a knife wound and had nearly died from infection and a high fever. Jiang Yuan had been swept here by a bizarre storm, utterly clueless, and saved his life with a box of ibuprofen she happened to have on her. Then, the very next day, the bandits found them and threw them in with the other captives. It took Jiang Yuan five days of listening to all those different, slurred accents before she finally pieced together what had happened: she had crossed the river of time and landed in an ancient age of cold steel. Bandits had raided Adnan’s caravan. A storm had struck, blowing in sand dunes, and the bandits had taken advantage of the chaos to attack, gnawing this fat bone clean with ease.

At first, Jiang Yuan had been stripped of her camel, weapons, satellite phone, and medicine, and was going to be disposed of on the spot. Adnan repaid her for saving his life by taking her under his protection and promising to pay her ransom. He was from Baghdad, trading spices and gold from Persia and transporting his goods to Mecca. He was wealthy, and he also swore he would not seek revenge on the bandits for his son. Only then did they agree to his request.

Jiang Yuan felt as if the top of her head had been roasted until it ached and spun. Even the morning sun was vicious. She had been walking for about eight days, the soles of her feet covered in blisters, the exposed skin on her hands, feet, and face peeling from sunburn. She was filthy and reeked. But she would rather shed a few more layers of skin than be discovered. She was tall and thin, with short hair, sallow skin, and an unremarkable face. She had none of the feminine traits that would draw attention in this era, so the bandits had not realized she was a woman. Adnan knew. He had warned her, “Keep your clothes wrapped tight.”

There were Persian female slaves traveling with them as well, serving the bandit leader and satisfying the men. Jiang Yuan was grateful she had not been found out. At last, the detained group struggled their way to the oasis, where the bandits drove the slaves to set up camp. Jiang Yuan could write a few blocky characters from the East in the sand, and she could do sums, so they used her as a scholar and sent her to collect food and water from the men escorting the goods.

The bandits were busy too. This oasis seemed to be a temporary base of theirs. Several houses were quickly put to use, filled with gemstones and gold coins. Horses and camels were tethered to the date palms by the lake, drinking noisily, their calls rising and falling one after another. The bandit leader was a fierce, burly man with a thick beard. He yanked off his headscarf and looked Jiang Yuan up and down darkly with a scarred face. He ordered, “*…come here.*” Jiang Yuan did not quite understand and looked toward the man escorting the goods, whose nickname was Oily Hands. Speaking Arabic with a Damascus accent, he repeated it for her: “Quick Blade Chief wants you to come over in a bit.”

The languages in this place were a tangle of many accents, including Persian, Arabic, Greek, Old English, and Turkic. Jiang Yuan still did not know exactly what era this was. After asking Adnan, she had a rough idea that it was around the Tang period, because Adnan called Easterners like her “Tang people.” She had majored in Arabic, but not ancient Arabic. The crisis of survival had made her language skills advance by leaps and bounds in eight days. She lowered her voice and made it rougher. “For what?”

Oily Hands chuckled. “We’re distributing the spoils.” Jiang Yuan’s shoulders tensed, and only then did she realize that by spoils, he did not mean the captives.

The sun overhead grew more and more brutal. Jiang Yuan still had to sit beside the wooden shed, open bags of gold and silver coins, and hand them out one by one. Some of the money was stained with blood. Some jewelry and gemstones were chipped. She even dug several gold teeth out of one bag. Jiang Yuan overcame her fear and nausea, counted the ears piled in front of her, and fairly handed out rewards to each palm stretched before her. At least she gained the privilege of drinking a few extra mouthfuls of water. Limping, Adnan came to bring her water and asked Quick Blade Chief when she could go back. They had walked from dawn until after breakfast; a frail scholar needed rest.

Adnan told her, “Come back once the money is handed out. If you have to, pretend to faint.” Jiang Yuan nodded, trying not to look too eager. Supposedly, a few miles beyond this place, there was a small town and an even larger oasis, home to blacksmiths and prostitutes who lived off the bandits. Jiang Yuan recognized her own camel. Its saddle and trappings had already been stolen and were now hanging absurdly on the fine horse that belonged to Quick Blade Chief. She was forced to personally award that camel to a one-eyed man who had traded in five ears for his prize.
Several eagles wheeled overhead, letting out hoarse cries as they chased one another, casting tiny shadows over the ground. It was so dry there wasn’t even a breath of wind. Sweat ran down Jiang Yuan’s face, dragging dust with it. The ones who hadn’t argued with Quickhand over whether the pay was fair were already shouting and laughing, swinging onto their horses and galloping off with their money pouches.

Once Jiang Yuan finished handing out the money, she could finally go back and eat a few mouthfuls of dry rations. She and Adnan lived together, sharing a tent. They didn’t have to endure the worst of the stench or the awful food, which counted as treatment owed to someone worth a ransom. Adnan had left her some ground wheat flour and dried meat. Mixed with sour wine, it could be swallowed down if she forced herself. Sitting inside the tent, she struggled to rub her feet. Adnan glanced at them. The strips of cloth had stuck to the torn skin on her soles and were stained red with blood. Her boots had all been taken. “You should have said something.”

Jiang Yuan raised her feet and calves for him to see. “They’re too small. I didn’t dare.”

The smooth lines of her legs and feet were enough to reveal a woman’s identity, and her bones were finer than a man’s. The skin hidden beneath her robe was even more delicate than that of a slave girl from Persia. Besides, there were plenty of people who liked to play with men, too. Adnan said nothing more and only sighed. “Go to sleep, Jia Nan. There isn’t much time before sunset.”

It was too hot here. They could only travel for a short while before sunset and before sunrise. Supposedly things would get much better in another month, but for now, it could only be called bad luck. Once night fell, they would be able to eat a few more bites, recover some strength, and prepare to move. Jiang Yuan wished they would hurry up and reach their destination already. This was practically torture while still alive. She answered him, then collapsed onto the coarse, hard felt. She thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but the moment sweat dripped from her forehead onto the fabric, she sank into a heavy slumber.

Adnan didn’t wake Jiang Yuan. He roasted the meat by himself. When the wavering firelight, the scent of meat, and the sound of horse hooves jolted Jiang Yuan awake in a panic, Adnan told her the good news. “It seems a few of their horses ate poisonous grass and have a bit of diarrhea. We’re stopping here for a day.”

It was already long past sunset. Wind swept sand off the stones, sending it scraping into the tent in gritty bursts and onto the tops of her feet. Jiang Yuan drew in a breath.

The bandits had already sent word that the captives were not allowed to run around at night. There was a fence around the oasis, and anyone who dared flee would still lose their way and die in the great desert. But there were benefits, too. They could rest properly for a night, eat a full meal, and wash their faces. The warriors and Black slaves were not allowed out, but people like Jiang Yuan and Adnan, who looked utterly harmless, were permitted to step outside for some air. Jiang Yuan gnawed two bites of meat and hesitated for a long time. After all, she came from a place with running water. In a low voice, she told Adnan, “I want to go wash my face.”

Adnan said, “Don’t wash too clean.”

He lowered his head and tended the fire, turning the meat with a branch he had picked up. Spices and fat were out of the question. Having cooked meat at all was already good enough. Jiang Yuan nodded and rose with difficulty.

Under the night sky, the lake shimmered with a cold gleam. It had suddenly grown much colder after dark. Jiang Yuan wrapped her robe tighter around herself, but she couldn’t put on a face covering or cover her head. She covered her slender neck with one hand. Her black hair let the bandits recognize who she was. Carrying a clay jar, she walked over. The water they were allowed to use was in a small pit near the edge of the tents, closer to the fence, so the pit itself was also very small. After signaling to the guards, Jiang Yuan crouched down to draw water first.

There seemed to be a faint noise in the trees. Jiang Yuan looked up and saw an eagle somehow burst out from among the leaves, kicking up a spray of sand. She lowered her head and continued drawing water. The lake water really was cold-cold and comfortable. Jiang Yuan dipped her hand into it and let out a soft sigh of relief. This place was far from the firelight. Apart from the moon’s reflection, a person was swallowed by the darkness. She looked around and felt there was no one nearby, so she carefully loosened the rope binding her feet a little, scooped up a handful of water, and moistened the soles of her feet.

She thought a few drops of water had fallen onto her neck and paid it no mind-until a line of coldness was pressed against her throat as well.

Jiang Yuan froze, not daring to move. The blade pushed upward, forcing her to stand. The person threatening her was about the same height as she was. An eagle flapped its wings and flew past her, out of the oasis. Its cry beneath the night sky sounded as if it could devour people.

Jiang Yuan saw a pair of blue eyes. Many people of Arabia had strikingly blue eyes, but this man’s seemed especially blue, almost frighteningly so. His headscarf hung down to his chest, and a long corner of white cloth was tied near his ear, covering the lower half of his face. Only from this close could she smell sand and iron on him. Behind him, his men had already dragged the corpse away. His hand was very steady. On his ring finger was a gemstone ring, and Jiang Yuan didn’t know why she noticed it. Her foot scraped against a stone, and the pain drilled into her. Slowly, Jiang Yuan raised both hands in surrender. Those deep blue eyes tilted coldly to the side, watching her movements and confirming that she had no intention of resisting.

“You look like someone who knows what’s good for him, kid,” he said in fluent Arabic mixed with a faint accent from who knew where. “Take me inside.”

I still couldn’t hold back from updating!

The simp inspiration is pouring in.

I swear this is a short little story! A satisfying little power-fantasy story!