The following passage is from the personal journal of Carmelo Perez, a Lumish-Arvairian citizen and travelling merchant.
This journal and several others were donated to the archives by a student of the Academy.
Hamen Expedition
Entry 32
I knew I shouldn’t have come to Akuul.
As I write this I’m perched halfway up a cliff face in the middle of nowhere, cooking to death in the desert sun. Above me is a featureless wall of rock I can’t hope to climb any further. Below me is a big, and clearly very hungry, wild goanna. ‘How did I get here?’ you may ask upon discovering my dusty and, perhaps, partially eaten skeleton. Well, I’m married to a beautiful and adventurous Faidmiiri woman whose family makes a yearly journey to the Akuulian city of Hamen to sell their dyes and fabrics. They invited the two of us along this year when I made the mistake of saying that I’d never been to this death-trap of a country.
The city was nice enough. The people were friendly, the food excellent, and I even made a few contacts among the local merchants who I will continue to correspond with. That is, if I don’t die.
Earlier today, I was leading my horses to drink at a shaded pool not far from our camp when a vulture the size of a brown bear swooped down and clawed at one of them. The horse spooked, jerked its lead out of my hand, and ran off into the hills. The vulture flew off after it, leaving me with my other two animals and a nasty rope-burn across my hand. Now, horses are expensive. The trio I brought with me to Akuul are some of my best, and I wasn’t in the mood to lose one so easily. I had the scimitar my father-in-law gave me after all, and I wasn’t feeling afraid of an overgrown buzzard. So I tied the remaining leads to a log and jogged off after my poor frightened beast. It was easy to track at first, but after a while the trail led into a rocky maze of canyons filled with cactus and some oddly noisy – and probably venomous – snakes. I’d just decided to turn around and cut my losses then a twenty-foot long pile of scales, claws, and teeth came lumbering out from behind a boulder.
Now, I’ve seen goannas before. The great lizards are often used as beasts of burden in southern countries, and I even know some caravaneers back in Arvair who prefer them over horses for travel in harsh terrain. I’ve never been comfortable around them. Apparently, when tamed, they make clever and powerful mounts. But this beast – which is currently up on its hind legs trying to get its fang-filled mouth as close to me as possible – is obviously wild. It’s big and hungry looking and WILL NOT LEAVE ME ALONE!
I’ve been up on this rock shelf, just barely out of reach, for at least two hours now. I’m lucky the sun is going down. I’ve been going through my water-skin quickly and I couldn’t last much longer in the heat of the day. My wife and her family are probably looking for me, but I doubt they’ll find me before morning, if at all. Hopefully the goanna gives up before then.
Hamen Expedition
Entry 33
Well, the sun set an hour ago and I’m still here. The goanna has stopped trying to climb up to me and is instead dozing at the base of the cliff. I’ve thought about trying to sneak past it – the starlight is bright enough that I could probably find my way back to camp – but I doubt I could climb down the cliff without making any noise. And if I jump down and turn my ankle I’ll be easy prey.
The desert gets cold at night. I wish I could reach those sad looking bushes below me. A fire would be nice, and maybe I could use it to chase off my lizard friend.
Hamen Expedition
Entry 34
I managed to sleep for an hour or two, but some noisy jackals just woke me up. The night’s gotten darker, so I can barely see to write, but I doubt I’ll be able to get back to sleep.
I can hear the goanna shift every time the jackals start howling. It figures the beast is a light sleeper.
Hamen Expedition
Entry 35
Still awake. Still dark and cold. And now the lizard and I have something in common.
I’m hungry.
I Won’t Die
Entry 36
The sun is rising.
Who’d have thought a desert sunrise could be so beautiful? When I get out of this, I’ll make sure to appreciate more sunrises.
Patri will be giving birth to our child in a few months. We were hoping to be back in Arvair by then. Patri’s sure it’s a girl, so we already have a name picked out. The plan was to raise her in the city for a year or two, until she was old enough to travel. Then we could rejoin the caravans and she could grow up on the road. Like I did.
But maybe that’s not such a good idea. It certainly doesn’t feel like it at the moment.
The goanna’s still there. And soon I’ll be wishing I was still cold.
I WON’T DIE!
Entry 37
The scimitar’s sharp, I might get a good hit in and convince it I’m not worth the effort. Right.
Or it will bounce off the thing’s scales and I’ll get torn apart.
It’s that or bake like a loaf of bread on this damned ledge! But it’ll be worse if I climb down there and try to fight the thing.
Look at it, so smug. It knows. It knows I can’t stay up here. There’s no shade, no water. Not even a rock big enough to be worth throwing at it. I have to get down.
I have to get down.
I have to get down!
Why is This Happening?
Entry 38
I’ve heard stories about people lost in the desert. They say near the end, you start seeing things that aren’t real. Well I’ve still got a few drops of water left, and I still feel alert. I think. But I must be hallucinating all the same.
A few minutes ago, the goanna took off into a tangle of bushes not far away. I thought it might be my chance to escape, so I already had one leg over the edge of the shelf before it started back this way.
When it got back it dropped something, a melon it looks like, at the base of the cliff. I’m looking at it right now, but I still don’t believe it.
Is it trying to coax me down? Is it even smart enough to set a trap?
Does it really want to eat me that badly?
NOT DEAD YET
Entry 39
The bastard.
Does he think he’ll fool me? Trying to lure me down with such an obvious trick? He may be clever, but that won’t work on me.
No. No. No.
No matter how much I think about how good it would taste. So cool and sweet… I could drench my head in its juice. Anything to escape this Hell-spawned sun!
No. It’s probably just an illusion anyhow. The melon I mean, not the sun.
The lizard’s lying down not far away, but I can still see his beady little eyes staring up at me.
Watching. Waiting.
Maybe if I jump down and grab the melon quickly I can climb the cliff again before he gets to me. Yes. There are lots of nice little handholds all the way up to my ledge. I can make it.
No. Wait.
What if that’s what he wants? What if he’s poisoned the melon? Do lizards have poison? Snakes have poison. And they’re just skinny little legless lizards. Like those murderous rattling bastards I saw on the way here. Hmm.
Very clever, mister lizard.
Very clever.
You can lay there and plot, but I know your mind. You won’t outsmart me!
I hope my daughter finds this journal one day. So she knows her father didn’t fall for your tricks!
Waiting to Die
Entry 40
Water’s gone. I don’t think it’s even midday yet.
The goanna walked up and ate the melon not long ago. Then it went and fetched another one. And now it’s curled up in its ambush spot again. It’s certainly persistent, I’ll give it that.
I’m tired. I haven’t moved in hours, but I’m so tired. And dizzy. Maybe I should just go to sleep. Until this is over.
Hold on.
I can hear a voice.
Is it real? I think it is. It’s coming from down the canyon but I can’t make out what its saying. Far? Dark? I don’t know. I don’t recognize the voice, it isn’t Patri’s father or brother, at least I don’t think…
I should call back, right? But if I do they’ll come this way and run straight into that insidious lizard!
It’s heard him. The goanna’s woken up and it’s looking towards the voice. It’s run off! Whoever it is they’re close, they’ll never see it in time! Oh gods I can see him! And the goanna’s so fast! I never would have dreamed of running if I’d known. It’s almost upon him, gods I can’t bear to wa-
Wait.
What?
Oh, for the love of Ageria!
Hamen Expedition
Entry 41
The cattle driver’s name is Kazim. And his treasured goanna mount, who’s been lost in the hills for three days, is named Dhar. I can’t believe I was so frightened of the big rascal. And I’m embarrassed that I didn’t notice the saddle-marks worn into the scales on his flanks and neck. Some traveling merchant I am! While we were resting at his camp, Kazim explained that Dhar is still young and brash, and prone to getting overexcited. That would certainly explain his reaction when I bumped into him. The lug’s friendly for a lizard, he nuzzled Kazim almost like a dog when they were reunited. The whole time I was up that cliff, he was probably hoping that I would lead him back to his master.
As I write this, Dhar is carrying me back to Patri and her family. Kazim came across them earlier this morning. They were out all last night looking for me, though it turns out my lost horse made it back to camp last evening. I hope I haven’t worried them too much. Kazim’s gave me food and water, but I’m looking forward to Patri’s cooking after being starved up on a cliff almost an entire day.
I wonder if there’s any camel’s hump left.
I was thinking about tearing out my last few entries in this journal – if Patri ever saw my ravings I’d never hear the end of it. But no. I’ll hold on to them.
One day, after I teach Pirai how to read, I want her to laugh at how silly her father is.