“Slowly, slowly!” Belili watched with concern as the old man hobbled to the edge of the rock and crouched. Placing the end of his long staff on the level below allowed him to soften the impact of the little jump. 

“It is fine, girl,” Master Jas’ar said, trying but failing to keep the strain of the descent out of his voice. 

Landing on his uninjured right leg, he started to stumble and Belili quickly moved to steady him. 

“Ha,” the old man sighed. “I thank you.” Leaning on her shoulder, they managed a decent pace. At least considering the circumstances. 

Belili had offered to run back to the estate to bring help, but Master Jas’ar had insisted on leaving the valley as quickly as possible. With his left leg almost unusable, the hike back over the rocky hills was unthinkable. Instead, they had taken the longer route, following the trail. 

Leaving the small valley behind, they had to pass through a narrow path with ragged cliffs rising up on both sides. The ground was relatively even with a big natural stair every ten paces or so. So far, he had managed well.

“Is this the end?”

Belili looked up. Ahead, the cliff walls opened, the almost total darkness of the canyon giving away to the star-filled sky.  

“Yes,” she said, relieved. “From here the ground will be easier.”

“How long till we reach your home?”

“Not long,” Belili said. In truth, she wasn’t sure. Alone she could have walked the distance in less than an hour but at their current speed, it would take longer. 

As they left the darkness of the canyon behind, she glanced up at the man towering above her. He was long and thin, but strong. His head and face were mostly covered by a scarf, but the white of his eyes seemed to shine through the darkness. 

When he noticed her stare, she quickly dropped her gaze. What was she doing? Important men didn’t like to be stared at by common folk, and especially not by slaves. Ninkar had explained this to her and Saras many times. 

It was usually her brother, not her, who lost himself in daydreams and forgot. It had earned him beatings more than once. 

“When we reach the outskirts of the field, I should run ahead and bring help,” Belili said to break the silence. By then dawn would have come and people would wonder about her absence. 

Ninkar might even remember me leaving, she thought. But what do I tell them? The slaves weren’t allowed to leave the estate without permission. When they heard that she had been all the way beyond the hills, they might think that she had intended to run away. Even Zabu will not let that go without a severe punishment. I will be whipped bloody. 

“Tell me about the dream you had,” the old man said. “Did you ever have one such as this before?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “Never.”

“Did you ever dream of something that later on actually happened? Or maybe a vision? Those often can come with signs of illness.”

“Illness?”  

“Seizures, for example,” Master Jas’ar said. “Such souls quite often lose control over their bodies for a time. They shake wildly until the vision has passed.”

Belili stared at him open-mouthed. “Nothing like that has ever happened to me.”

The white eyes of the towering man stared down at her as if they could see beyond her words. “Truly astounding.” 

“I am not lying,” she said quickly, afraid of what the man might do if he thought otherwise. 

“Oh, I know, Belili,” he said calmly. “It is just astounding that nobody has claimed you yet.” The last part he murmured more to himself, turning his eyes back to the trail in front of them. 

That was the first time he used my name, Belili thought. She had said it but nobody would expect an important man like Master Jas’ar obviously was to remember the name of a slave. 

After that, they walked in silence for a long while. Leaning on her sometimes more sometimes less the old man seemed to be focused on conserving his strength, giving Belili room to worry about her situation. What was she going to do once they reached the estate? Hopefully, the arrival of such an important guest will be enough of a distraction for everybody to forget about me. 

A suppressed wince and the stiffening of the old man’s body brought her attention back to the present. Halting in place, she could hear him deliberately breathing in and out, until the pain subsided to a manageable degree. 

“Are you in pain?” she asked concerned. If he was unable to go further, she would have to leave him behind to get help. She had nowhere near enough strength to carry him back to the estate.

“I am decidedly not good,” he said, closing his eyes. “But I guess I should accept the pain as a good sign.”

“…I do not understand.” 

The master let go of a long breath, before opening his eyes again. “Poison. The one who slashed my leg must have applied it to his blade.” 

Once again Belili stared up at the old man. Was he going to die? Here with her?

Reading her expression, a twinkle came to his eyes. “Do not worry. I shall not dye on you just yet. I took all the precautions my limited stock of herbs and remedies allowed for. The pain is a good sign. If the poison was winning the struggle for my body, numbness in my limbs would be the result.”

Master Jas’ar straightened, taking his weight from her and leaning fully on his staff. At that moment the first rays of sunlight came over the eastern hills, bathing them in their warmth. The magus, turned half around, pulling down the shawl from his face to expose his skin to the light. 

“And so, I see another morning,” he said, sighing. “And a dozen gods and demons tear their hair in disappointment.” He closed his eyes and smiled. 

It was just a slight smile but it suited the weathered face. It was a strong face with high cheekbones. The dark eyebrows stood in stark contrast to the white of his beard and hair. 

As he turned his face further into the sun, Belili noticed a scar on the left side of his face. It ran from right under his cheekbone straight down, parting the beard in two. 

“I promise, it is not always this dangerous, being a magus,” Master Jas’ar said, gazing sideways at her through only slightly opened eyelids. “That is if you decide to follow that path.” He was still smiling.

Feeling caught, Belili quickly looked away. Only then did his last words register. “I…I do not understand.”

“What you saw in your dream – that you were able to see it – means you have talent. Talent opens possibilities.” He paused for a moment, a shiver running through him. “How much longer will it take us to reach your home?” 

Belili pointed westward. “Two hundred paces behind that small hill begin the fields. It’s still a while.” To her disappointment, the master didn’t continue his explanation.

“I see.” Master Jas’ar planted his staff more firmly into the ground so he could lean on it more comfortably. The light of dawn revealed the entire upper half to be covered with carvings. 

Belili had seen woodcarvings before. Zabu owned a couple of pieces of furniture with beautiful decorations that he valued a lot but the master’s staff was different. Belili couldn’t quite say why. She tilted her head to the side to get a better look when Master Jas’ar spoke up again.

“I do not think I can make it much further on my own legs,” he said calmly. “Therefore, I ask you to run ahead. Does your owner have a donkey?” 

“Yes,” Belili said. “He owns a wagon, too.” 

The magus nodded. “That would be even better. Please run ahead, then. I shall wait here and enjoy the morning sun.” 

“…yes,” Belili said, feeling an unwillingness to leave the strange old man’s side. “I will run as quickly as I can!”

“Thank you. And,” he said, raising his finger before she could run off, “please let your people know that I will of course repay their kindness.”

“Yes, I will.” Belili wasn’t sure what he meant but she had a task to perform so she turned around and started running. 

Before she reached the hill, she realized that her enthusiasm had let her choose a pace she couldn’t keep up all the way back to the estate. Hoping master Jas’ar wasn’t watching, she fell back into a more comfortable jog. She didn’t want him to think, she wasn’t hurrying to bring help. I need to ask him what he meant by talent. What possibilities do I have? According to Ninkar, Zabu would either take her to his bed once she was grown or sell her to another.

Being sold away was what frightened Belili the most, as it meant being parted from Saras. She had once made the mistake of sharing her fears with her brother. His wild ideas about running off with her and becoming a warrior frightened her even more. Despite being older than her it felt too often like she was the one who had to protect him from his own foolishness.

Passing over the crest it didn’t take her long to reach the outskirts of the wheat fields. Being surrounded by hills protected Zabu’s land from the harsh winds, regularly whipping over the otherwise rugged terrain of the region. The well was just big enough to support the small estate but lay far enough away from the closest trading routes to keep travelers away. 

There had only been a single raid in the past ten years and Belili had still been too young to remember it clearly. The other slaves didn’t talk about it much. Friends and family members had died that day, including Belili’s and Saras’ mother. 

Her hand found the amulet under her tunic, reassuringly pressing against her skin. It was the only thing that remained from her mother. “God Urk, bless our fields with your water,” she whispered. 

Coming closer to the houses, she met the first people carrying digging tools. Some of them called out to her but she ignored them. 

As she reached the open yard between the buildings, she came to a sudden halt. Do I go directly to Zabu or should I check in with Ninkar first? And Saras was probably worried when he had woken up. 

“There you are!” Ninkar’s angry voice rang across the yard, interrupting Belili’s thoughts. “Where have you been?”

“I…,” She didn’t get to finish her answer as a hard slap whipped her head around. 

Ninkar wasn’t tall, but being in charge of the kitchen allowed her to regularly snack an extra meal, which showed in her brought frame and strong arm.

“Never mind that now,” Ninkar said angrily. “Tala asked for you. You are to help her bath.”

Tala, Zabu’s wife, was a very quiet woman who spent most of her days in her room, praying for her dead children. Leaving most of her day-to-day responsibilities to Ninkar had made the cook influential beyond her standing. 

Holding her burning cheek, Belili bit back on her tears. “I have to go see Zabu first. It is important.”

“What are you spouting?” Ninkar shouted. “Look at you! You are all dusty. I thought you had run off when we could not find you.” She slapped Belili a second time and raised her hand for a third when she got distracted by laughter from the other side of the yard. 

Two of Zabu’s three guards sat on a bench in front of their shack. Chewing their breakfast, they enjoyed the show in front of them. 

“You be quiet,” Ninkar shouted, pointing at the men. “Useless fools, lazing around all day. If you had done your duty and stood guard, the girl would not have been able to sneak away in the middle of the night.”

Her anger only added to the men’s amusement which in turn enraged Ninkar even more. “Or was she with one of you?”

The laughter halted suddenly. Touching another man’s slave without permission was a serious crime. The men clenched their jaws under Ninkar’s accusing glare.

“Leave off, woman.” The new voice came from inside the shack. Covering a yawn with his fist, Motar stepped into the sun. The leader of the guards was a grizzled veteran who had guarded caravans for many years before taking employment with Zabu. 

He wore a club on his belt and never went far from the shack without carrying his spear. Of the three guards, he was the only one with actual experience and Saras had talked about asking him for weapons lessons many times. So far, he had not found the courage, though. 

The two old people stared at each other for a couple of heartbeats before Ninkar interrupted the silent contest of will by turning away.

“You, come with me,” she said, grabbing Belili by the wrist and dragging her across the yard.

Knowing from experience that resistance was a bad idea, Belili kept pace. The guards had offended Ninkar but they weren’t under her supervision. Having no way to punish them, only left Belili as a target for her wrath. 

Being pushed through the site entrance, she almost fell over a water bucket. The only other person present, a slave girl a couple of years older than Belili, was startled but quickly looked away when she noticed Ninkar’s expression.

“There,” the old cook said. “I had your useless brother already fetch the water. You know where the oils are kept. Take the bucket and go.”

Belili glanced back. Should I try again? She thought. How long can the old man hold out with his wounds? Seeing Ninkar towering over her, fists planted in her hips, Belili decided there was no appealing to her now. She would have to find another way. 

Picking up the bucket, she scurried out of the kitchen.