The Cinders of Dezu

0: Glass Root Elixir (3)

The king laughed.

"You must have some impressive distributors, huh?"

Micah found his muscles had tensed and began to release when the king gave him a hearty smack on the side of his arm.

"And loyal too!" the king said, "Letting you corner the market like that! Turn right, here."

He pointed to a path not as well traveled. Micah blinked quickly and nodded with a solemn expression.

"Yes... very loyal distributors."

It wasn't long before the sanctuary was in sight. They were approaching it quickly when the king began to speak again.

"For such a popular fellow you sure do lead a private life. When I asked around no one seems to know if you have a business partner or some loved ones who help you out. Do you have a big family that you come from? A Father trying to get you to pay off the wider families debt? A demanding wife and kids?"

Micah was slowing down now. They came up to the entrance of the building and he shook his head.

"No sir, no family to speak of."

The king nodded and hopped down from the seat.

"A single man with single-minded ambition. I can appreciate that."

He turned around to pat one of his horses.

"Lord knows I could have learned from your school of thought."

The forest was quiet aside from the chirping of the birds in the trees. Even they were dying down as the dark continued its decent. The king kept stroking the horse while Micah continued watching him in silence.

"Well," he said, giving the horse one more pat, "Enjoy your night, Micah. Happy peddling."

He turned with a smile and headed into the stone sanctuary. Micah watched as he entered and closed the door behind him.

Back on the main road, Micah was left with his thoughts. As the horses trot in the padded dirt filled his ears he considered his options. He could already hear the scurrying of predator and prey in some of the grasses nearby. His torch offered protection from the night but he knew it wouldn't hold off the more aggressive things in the dark. He was gradually coming upon the familiar glow of a camp. It was off the road a bit into the trees but it was surrounded by torches so he could see it clearly as he rode by. He knew he was far enough away that he could see them but no one there could spot him in the dark beyond the light of the flames.

He found his hands gripping the reigns tight. He didn't want to keep going. His heart was sinking. He felt tears roll down his face. He swallowed hard as he clenched his jaw. He kept his pace, trying hard to keep his head facing straight forward. His eyes strained as they tried to catch as much of a glimpse as they could before the camp disappeared. By chance, a young man walked out from a tent and smiled in the direction of his mother who was a bit obscured by a tarp. But he could still see she was clearly hunched over a bucket of water, working hard as she always was.

Soon they were out of his peripheral vision and the glow began to fade. All that was left was the light of his torch again. He kept going. He didn't know how far he would take the wagon. Just farther down the road? He came upon a route to the left so he took a hard turn. His horses huffed in frustration.