The ox dragged Nasor's large cart without showing the slightest fatigue or difficulty. Every now and then, it swished its tail to chase away the mosquitoes and flies that insisted on appearing. Both animals had their horns shaved at the tips.
Using only the reins, the merchant guided the cart along a dirt road. The city had long since disappeared, and they were completely at the mercy of the desert.
Gabriel had gotten off the seat and was walking alongside the animal, which was chewing on a ball of grass that the young man had no idea where it had come from. He searched for a leaf to chew on but found none, only sand.
"They store it in their stomachs," Nasor said.
"Sorry?"
"The grass it's eating." He laughed at the disgusted look on Gabriel's face. "Well, I can't say for sure, but my grandmother always told me that cattle store grass in their stomachs and then vomit it up to chew again."
"Cut it out, don't try to fool me with that sales pitch," Gabriel replied, though the thought lingered in his mind. "Was your grandmother also from caravans?"
Nasor pulled a cloth from his front pocket and wiped his face, which was glistening with sweat, shaking the fabric to scare off the mosquitoes.
"Yes, I was born in a cart, and I'll probably die in one too. How about you?"
"Orphaned from a very young age."
With another swat, Nasor, even if unconsciously, realized what he had asked. It was common knowledge that children recruited to be Crows, in most cases, had no parents or anyone to care for or look after them. "Recruited" wouldn't be the right word; it was more like "forced."
"Sorry about that."
"It's fine," Gabriel replied indifferently while placing his hand on the animal's back, feeling its breath.
Nasor grabbed a metal flask from underneath the seat, opened it, took a long gulp, and felt his cheeks grow warmer than they already were.
"Want some?" he asked the young man.
Gabriel nodded and, without hesitation, jumped back onto his seat, bringing the flask to his mouth and nearly coughing at the strong taste of alcohol.
"What is this?" he asked, passing the flask back to Nasor.
"A drink made from honey, the Ancients called it mead. It's our most popular product."
With another gulp, the merchant handed it back to Gabriel, who didn't refuse. A breeze sent the sand flying in all directions, making the animal huff in annoyance.
"This isn't a bad life," Gabriel said.
"Really isn't, kid."
"There must be problems with bandits and others, right? But still, this freedom seems pretty good."
"Of course, we have problems, but having Crows around keeps those types away."
The shouts and conversations of the other carts ahead of them faded into the vastness of the desert. Children played by the carts with an improvised cloth ball.
"Gabriel, you're a bit different from the Crows I've known."
"In a good or bad way?"
"Definitely good, just talking to me normally is something few have done before." He thought of asking what they were going to do at the Oasis, but decided not to get involved. Not getting involved with others was a great way to avoid dying.
"My stomach is full of mead, and talking is good for getting rid of unwanted thoughts." With one last gulp, he jumped out of the cart again. "I'm going to check on the others."
Without waiting for a response, Gabriel walked in the opposite direction of the carts and passed one piled with animal hides and large jars of paint. A younger woman, who appeared to be around his age, was leading the animals ahead and greeted him with a nod of her head, which Gabriel returned.
The ball came toward his chest, and he dodged it, making the toy fall into the desert, not going too far because of the sand. One of the boys passed him, irritated.
"I'm not the next one to fetch it!" he yelled to the others in his childish voice. "That's the third time!"
Naomi walked more toward the middle of the caravan, along with Livya, Michel, and the Crow Nahara, who, by her manner, was paying attention to everything, alert so that nothing went wrong. But Gabriel couldn't see Ana.
By the group's body language, the conversation seemed to be flowing. Livya was smiling from one person to another. Gabriel shouted to them:
"Where's Ana?"
"At the last cart!" Nahara shouted back.
He passed them, seeing the families that made up the long line of carts. He counted seventeen in total, all packed with goods.
A whistle caught Gabriel's attention. He saw the last cart, which carried dried meat with coarse salt in the back. There she was, the girl, staring into the vast desert while swinging her feet back and forth.
She didn't notice Gabriel approaching until he was right beside her. She startled and instinctively reached for her revolver.
"Hey!" Gabriel exclaimed. "Calm down, it's me."
"What are you doing here?" she snapped irritably as she withdrew her hand from the weapon.
"I came to see why you're sulking."
"Why don't you mind your own business?"
"But you are my life". Seeing the disgusted look the girl gave him, Gabriel couldn't hold back and laughed heartily. " Actually, I just thought it was strange that you were alone".
Ana leaned against the wood behind her and resumed swinging her feet.
"I made a mistake on the last mission, that's why I'm being punished on a transport mission".
Gabriel understood punishment and grasped her irritation. For common convoys, rookie Ravens made the trips, but for those that carried vital things for society, veterans were sent.
"I've made many of these trips, for the same reason as yours" Gabriel said.
" And your partner"?
" What?"
" Didn't she get mad at you for getting her involved in this"
" Is that why you're looking like that? Not because of the mission, but because you're mad at yourself for getting involved in it?" Seeing he hit the mark, he continued: "Relax, Naomi never complained, actually, it was even nice. Now, your partner will get upset if you keep looking like that."
Ana finally straightened up, as if something had left her eyes. She looked at her companion, and for the first time since the journey began, she gave a smile.
" Thank you." She gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. " You're cool."
But something on the horizon caught the attention of the duo, and they stopped at once. Two figures in full cloaks, mounted on hyenas the size of horses, were watching them.
Gabriel knew what it was. The nomads. Groups of people who lived outside the cities, and unlike communities like the Oasis that had their own laws, these people thrived on chaos, often raiders and mercenary killers.
Ana jumped off the seat at the same time, staring back at them. Sweat trickled down her back. Gabriel, calmer, jumped down right after and stood next to her.
"Bandits" Ana said.
" Probably."
"Should we finish them off?"
" Actually, remember what I told you about my punishments? Well, I learned a way to deal with it without needing to spill blood."
Taking the Magnum strapped to his waist, the young man aimed at the sky and pulled the trigger once. The sound of the shot silenced everyone for a moment.
The bandits fled desperately across the desert, disappearing into the dunes.
"Now comes the boring part" he muttered to Ana.
Desperate footsteps broke through the entire convoy. Women screamed for their children who ran crying towards their mothers. It didn't take long before the rest of the Ravens appeared, armed, near the duo.
" What happened? " Naomi asked, holding her katana.
" Some bandits. " He shrugged indifferently. " I scared them off, that's all."
Nasor arrived, pale, along with other men from the caravan. They were holding pieces of metal.
" See what I told you" he whispered to Ana. "I get into bad situations all the time."