Plans: Part 1

“You’re still sitting there?” Havald panted as he jogged down the dune.

Not moving from the spot atop the warm stone where she meditated, Risala drew a deep breath through her nose. The air was dry, and hot. It smelled of sand, and sun, and the distant bite of salt, and a sand serpent’s nest somewhere nearby.

“Shor’s balls, Ris, can you even hear me?”

“I could hear you breathing before you even started up the hill.” Her hands remained on her knees, eyes softly closed against the sunlight.

The Nord leaned against the rock, and pulled up his shirt to wipe sweat from his face. “You’d be out of breath, too.”

“You could have walked back.”

Havald made a high-pitched whining sound as he mockingly echoed her words under his breath. “The caravan’s been compromised.”

“Baeold’s group?”

“No. I don’t recognize any of them.”

Risala’s nostrils flared in irritation. A quick pick up. This was all it was supposed to be. The caravan from Cyrodiil with Lady Merline’s request had already been a day late when the two treked into Elsweyr to find it being rooted through by brigands.

“How many?” she sighed, arching her back to stretch up out of her sit.

“I counted ten.”

“The drivers?”

“Six dead, though most of them were armed like guards. Three are alive, tied between wagons — For the love of Kyne, will you stop with the sun juice shit and look at me? This is serious.”

“I don’t  think I’ve ever heard anyone call collecting magical energy ‘sun juice’.”

“Ris! I’m hot! I’m pissed. I want to get the chest, and get back to Rawl’kha.”

The Dunmer’s eyelids slowly opened, and her bright blue gaze fixed on the man, the look making him shrug a shoulder in a squirm. “Do you want to live long enough to get paid? Or perhaps go back to Vix empty handed?”

Unamused, Havald narrowed his gaze at her, and his jaw ticked to the side. She was right, of course. “Are you done meditating?”

“Yes,” she replied with a growing smirk.

~~~~~

From the shadows of an overhang the pair observed the circle of five wagons below. Several makeshift tents had been tossed up to shelter the brigands from the midday sun, and Risala ducked back out of sight as four more riders tied up their horses in the back.

“You said ten!” she accused as she sat down on the unconscious lookout.

“I was wrong!” Havald shot back, wiping the back of his hand under his nose.

“Eighteen is not ten.”

“There were only ten before.”

“And a magician?”

Havald growled under his breath. “He’s new, too.”

Risala huffed out a heavy breath as she rolled her eyes. Leaning her head back against the jagged rock, she sniffed, and then gave the sleeping body beneath her a fond pat before moving to rise. “New plan.”

“New plan? No! No, no, no,” Havald objected as he scrambled up after her. “No, if there is going to be a new plan I make it. Your plans are –”

“Reliable?”

“Reliably foolhardy!”

“Have they ever failed?”

Havald glowered down at her. “Well… no, but — That’s not the point!”

“Yes, yes it is the point,” she replied easily. “Call them whatever you want, but they always work.”

The man snorted, but quickly held his hands up out of the way as the Dunmer suddenly stepped in close, looking up at him as she roughly drew his axe from its sheath. “I wou — Oy. Stop that. I hate that. You know I hate it when you do that,” he huffed, flushing as Risala stepped away with his weapon.

“What?” she wondered, resting the axe against her shoulder as she gave a daring smile. “Disarm you?” 

“Yes. Vix learned that from you, and it’s not fair.”

“You know what’s not fair? Having to suddenly deal with a mage. Also, you don’t really mind.”

Havald’s upper lip curled and he pointed a threatening finger at her. “You… are insufferable. Shut up. What’s the plan?”

“Like that time in Falkreath?”

“Fuuuuuh,” the man groaned, wiping his hands down his face. “This… This might actually work.”