Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Desert Spice, Part 6 of 17

     In the Cinnamon Oasis a great distance from Alexi and Brandon, a concerned conversation took place. “Well you can’t expect them to cross the Meshullam Desert without bread, water and rest,” Kezia, the keeper of the Cinnamon Oasis, said. “And yes, the heat could kill them, but I know you, My King, you have appointed Silver Wing to watch over them.”
     “It will take them seven days before Imri can fly them to you,” The King said. “There can be no other way!”
     “It will be hard on them,” Kezia replied. “Today Odious Gresham, that filthy desert rat and his hideous body guard, Ordo, will be after them. I hope the two young people have the good sense to keep out of their way, or they will be chopped into pieces. Then we’ll have our work cut out for us.”
     “We shall see, we shall see,” The King said softly. Everyone in Kezia’s oasis called him My King, the Son of IAM.
     “Thy will be done, My King,” Kezia bowed.

     “Oh my aching back,” Alexi said, as she sat up and stretched. “Did you sleep well, Brandon?”
     “I think we were drugged, by God, and I’m furious that we did not get up and leave here after dark.”
     Suddenly, Silver Wing appeared a second time, still surrounded by a dazzling light of rainbow colors. “You mentioned My King again? And, indeed, you are correct about the drug,” he spoke in an awesome voice, loud and deep. “It was meant to be. You cannot cross the desert without rest. You have far to go and it will take days.”
     Silver Wing reached into his robe and pulled from it two smooth boards painted in shinning gold, ruby and sapphire colors, each with leather straps on the sides. “You will find these worthwhile during your journey.” Before they could ask what the elaborate boards were for, Silver Wing vanished.
     Brandon held his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the burning sun. “Who on earth is that man? He could have given us just a little more information, such as what journey he is referring to, and what direction we should go.”
     “Maybe we should head north like you said yesterday.” Alexi said, as she tried to smooth her tangled hair with her fingers. “I wish I had my purse,” she moaned.
     “Is that all you can think of at a time like this,” Brandon snapped. “Women! You can worry about the stupidest things in a time of crisis. However, you might be right about going north, though perhaps it makes no difference. And these lovely boards,” Brandon said sarcastically. “What good are they? We can’t eat or drink them.”
     “I suppose it does no good to grumble,” Alexi commented. “It will only sap our strength, and I dare say we will need that almost as soon as we take our first step away from these pitiful bushes, which I see are beginning to dry up.”
     “Such wisdom, Alexi, sometimes you surprise me.” Brandon laughed.
     “Now who’s being sarcastic? I’m dying for something to eat, but a bite of bread and a sip of water will have to do.”
     “Right again,” Brandon said, handing her a fistful of the bread. “Eat that and have a cap full of this water. Then we need to move on.”

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