Northward bound
Aran and Jhary had relocated their camp after Aran had expressed his concerns over Kario's possible real motive for his departure early that next morning. It was prudent to be careful. The bard knew it was best not to fight the large warrior with his seemingly endless suspicions, and feral animal intuition, and just play along. His companion was like a wild force of nature, and it was fruitless to argue.
The two men sat out the lovely day and waited, they said little to one another. Aran spent most of it sleeping, and his unfortunate captive remained bound hand and foot. Jhary on the other hand just sat by a tree admiring the view, wondering, if Kario had really meant to retrieve those horses, or if he had just said he would as a cover to depart? At times he had wondered why the strange man had tagged along with them at all. He sure was an enigma, and some of the things he said were unnerving, to say the least.
The man of song had decided that he would at least wait the agreed forty-eight hours, to see if there was a horse in the offing. Aran owed him a new mule after all. He would then accompany his companions a bit further north, where he planned to resume his life singing and storytelling on the road, as he had always done. He would offer, or rather insist that he take the young Imogen home as he traveled his usual routes.
*****
They did not light a fire that evening and Aran had not hunted, so there was no food to be had. Jhary took a measured sip from his canteen and paced about the camp, a flock of rainbow lorikeets passed overhead, resplendent in their greens, oranges, and purples. Deafening were their screeches. He watched Aran get up and take his hostage into the bushes for a bathroom break, then return her to her place.
The dunes grew dark and the wind died, the stars winked into existence, one by one. Jhary had gone back to his place at the base of a large sheoak, there was comfort to be had on the cushioning bed of needles beneath it. His stomach rumbled loudly and he willed his hunger to subside.
Aran had walked some way into the dunes and it was just he and Imogen in the darkness.
"I'm hungry." The girl complained.
"Me too." Jhary commiserated.
"I want to go home Mister."
"I know." Jhary said kindly. "If it were up to me, you would."
"My hands are numb, and I want to see my Dad and Ewan again."
She was sobbing softly now.
Jhary rose, and indeed he could see that Aran had tied the girl's hands unreasonably tightly, he was about to loosen her bonds when there was a voice behind him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Jhary turned about to see Aran, his enormous arms folded over his chest and his strong legs planted wide.
"She shouldn't be here." Jhary answered.