Konehl-Ghervil remained utterly oblivious to the happenings outside. Even if she had known, it would not have swayed her, for her trust in Dr. Callan and Govet-Ghervil remained steadfast.
Her current vexation, however, was…
“You are finally awake. I heard of your exploits and felt compelled to check on you.”
She too found herself disturbed.
Martina-Sali, the caravan’s accompanying physician, who had visited once in the dead of night, now waited outside her tent.
Her skin was dark, tanned by the sun, and her lips were somewhat chapped.
Her headscarf was fashioned from three layers of cotton cloth, with a central wrap of deep blue coarse cotton, serving to protect her from the fierce ultraviolet rays.
A thin blanket, blended with camel hair, lined the scarf, providing warmth at night and breathable comfort during the day once the outer layers were removed.
Other notable details included:
The physician wore a silver Dream-Tracing Cross upon her chest.
This signified a devout follower of the Goddess.
While most citizens of the kingdom worshipped the Goddess, typically only those who had joined the church or were clergy members wore such a cross.
“Are you part of The Order?”
Unwilling to leave her standing idly in the cold outside, Konehl-Ghervil unzipped the tent flap and invited her in.
“Not at all. It’s an old habit, I apologize for amusing a true child of the Goddess such as yourself,” Sali replied.
Sali knelt on the moisture-proof wool felt, tucked the cross beneath her inner garments, then set down and opened her satchel, revealing a collection of medical supplies.
“The Knight Commander mentioned you were injured,” she explained, “and in this environment, untreated wounds are prone to inflammation and infection.”
“Is this alcohol?”
Konehl-Ghervil observed her produce a small, clear bottle containing a water-like liquid.
“It’s treated sand cocoon sap, effective for most wounds.”
She continued her explanation:
“Sand cocoons are white, chrysalis-like plants that bloom only when rain falls in the desert, making them rare to find.”
“Is it very rare?”
Konehl-Ghervil’s interest was piqued; rainfall in the desert was exceedingly scarce, suggesting this substance was quite precious.
“It’s indeed rare for ordinary folk, so please keep this between us,” Sali said, winking at her with a smile.
‘Was she being friendly because of my identity as a nun of The Order?’
‘Or was she attempting to curry favor with Esli through me…’
‘It was uncertain.’
‘Yet, this world was illusory, so there was no need to worry about being indebted; she might as well use it.’
She pulled back her sleeve, revealing an arm crisscrossed with red abrasions.
These were all scrapes, mainly concentrated on her forearms, sustained from rolling down a slope while instinctively shielding her head with her hands.
The moment the sap was applied, it emitted a strong, pungent odor of moldy, rotten oranges.
She was absolutely certain she hadn’t mistaken the smell.
Her lost sense of taste had subtly sharpened her sense of smell.
While applying it to one hand, she pinched her nose with the other, enduring the smell until the task was complete.
Once air-dried, the foul orange scent completely vanished, becoming undetectable even when she leaned in close.
‘No wonder she dared to use such a peculiar substance.’
She felt nothing particularly unusual, just a cool sensation accompanied by a slight itch; some scabbed areas slowly flaked away, revealing perfectly healed skin beneath.
“The other wounds…”
“That’s quite enough, thank you, Dr. Sali.”
While marveling at its efficacy, she politely declined the doctor’s offer to apply the medicine elsewhere.
The liquid in the small bottle had already halved.
“Is there anything we can assist with?”
‘Accepting help made one indebted, so it was a good opportunity to gauge the doctor’s intentions.’
“You’ve misunderstood,” Sali said, shaking her head as she put away the medicine. “Actually, the leader asked me to brief you on the caravan’s situation.”
‘It wasn’t entirely a misunderstanding; Mr. Hawk might have had ulterior motives.’
For the next ten minutes or so, Konehl-Ghervil listened with keen interest, shifting positions several times as the briefing unfolded.
First, she spoke of Burduka Town, the caravan’s destination.
Excluding the nights, it was approximately a two-day journey.
This caravan originated from Felaman, a northern city renowned as the kingdom’s textile heart, with its ‘Felaman Tapestries’ being particularly famous.
Their purpose for this journey was to sell other more practical textiles, as tapestries held little utility for the desert dwellers.
They also transported goods not found in the desert, such as fruits and vegetables.
The entire caravan, originally thirty-seven strong, was considered medium-sized; two members had unexpectedly gone missing en route, leaving thirty-five.
Twenty people comprised merchants, guides, porters, camel drivers, and cooks, with the remaining fifteen serving as guards.
Having introduced the names of several key members, Sali left the tent before Konehl-Ghervil could inquire about the two missing individuals.
Combining the information Sali provided with her own knowledge from books on the kingdom’s geography,
Konehl-Ghervil deduced they were in the Selene Sand Sea, located in the northeastern part of the kingdom’s territory.
Covering two percent of the national land, it was the largest desert within their borders.
There was scant information about this desert, only that a Knight Order was stationed there, and most areas were restricted zones.
Their current location was at the desert’s edge; venturing further north would lead them into its depths, where they would encounter the Knight Order within the restricted zone.
Burduka Town, the caravan’s destination, lay slightly to the west, not reaching the desert’s center, yet not far from the restricted zone.
Had there been a train, the journey would have taken merely a day and a half to two days.
As the caravan set out in the early morning, their leader, Hawk, approached Konehl-Ghervil with two camels, some water, and food, his smile unwavering, and inquired:
“Has Sister Govet-Ghervil decided if she wishes to travel with the caravan? If not, I can arrange for camels to take you wherever you desire.”
In truth, he had posed the same question to Esli at the bonfire gathering last night.
The reply he received was that Konehl-Ghervil would make the decision.
As Konehl-Ghervil had already retired, he had resorted to subtly extracting from Esli that the two had no specific destination.
Thus, he arrived bright and early today, hoping to persuade them to stay.
“At our current pace, how much longer until Burduka Town?” Konehl-Ghervil asked, accepting a piece of dry bread and washing it down with water.
She then shared some dried meat and a few dates with Esli.
“Two days. Didn’t Sali tell you?” A fleeting look of confusion crossed Hawk’s face.
“She did, I merely wished to confirm.”
“It doesn’t necessarily have to take two days,” Hawk said, glancing occasionally at Esli, who was devouring dates without even spitting out the pits. He then offered her some of last night’s roasted snake meat from his camel pack.
“…There’s a shortcut. We could arrive as early as tonight.”
“Why didn’t we take it from the start?”
Konehl-Ghervil asked, feigning ignorance, knowing full well such a route surely entailed dangers.
‘His intentions were as plain as day.’
“As you know… profit often implies risk,” he said, reaching inside his robe to produce a small, bulging cloth pouch. He untied the drawstring before Konehl-Ghervil, revealing a dozen or so gold coins within.
“However, the rewards this time far outweigh the risks. For a Knight, it wouldn’t even qualify as a risk. I can vouch for this with the caravan’s reputation.”
“Hmm…”
Staring at the gold coins, Konehl-Ghervil fell into contemplation.
‘It certainly wasn’t because of a fondness for money.’
‘She didn’t possess much now, and she would need funds in the town.’
‘The dream world’s time synchronized with reality, and spending two days meant a delay she could ill afford.’
‘Who knew what might transpire outside during those two days?’
“If it’s just more of last night’s gluttonous snakes, I wouldn’t fear a hundred of them,” Esli declared, tearing at the snake meat with gusto, her left arm flexed in a display of muscle that seemed oddly out of character.
Konehl-Ghervil observed her for a moment, noting that her dark circles had faded considerably, and her overall complexion appeared much more normal.
‘Perhaps coming to the desert truly suited this Knight, like a fish to water.’
“There’s nothing more terrifying than a man-faced snake!” Hawk exclaimed, clapping his hands in agreement.
‘Man-faced snakes were, of course, nothing to fear; they weren’t even considered minor evil creatures.’
‘After all, Plague Knights were trained to combat plagues, and those afflicted by plague, whether people or objects, were essentially a type of evil creature themselves.’
‘It was merely that plagues were far more dreadful and harder to contend with.’
‘With no mist obscuring the sky,’
‘ordinary evil creatures should pose no challenge.’
“Then, Mr. Hawk, we shall trouble you,” Konehl-Ghervil said, snatching the money pouch.
“Oh, and please tell us what happened to the two missing members.”