Lyn had nodded off shortly after performing Tanner's treatment — apparently they hadn't slept much the prior evening. Tanner, looking a bit worse for wear, had followed shortly after.
Nat thought it was best to stay sitting outside, up with the coach master, to avoid disturbing them. The view was endlessly entertaining — at least to him — and the sounds of nature were preferable to the persistent snoring that had started up inside the carriage. How that sound came out of a body that small, Nat couldn't begin to imagine. Tanner wasn't exactly a quiet sleeper, either.
While he'd certainly travelled locally — Bell House wasn't a prison by any means — Nat's condition meant that he couldn't safely travel alone, so most travel had been chaperoned group trips. As such, they tended to be a bit on rails — not that he'd ever gotten to ride on a train, but hope sprang eternal. Due to the local geography, most of his visits had been in the vicinity of Gravlin to the east — that's where everything interesting was, after all.
Just east of Gravlin itself was Lake Mete, the largest freshwater lake within hundreds of kilometers — a giant impact crater, apparently, which had filled with runoff from the mountains to the north.
Being the only reliable year-round source of freshwater naturally made it the center of the local economy. The impactor itself, however, had been metal and mineral rich; that made for accessible deposits which were easy to dredge profitably, no deep mining operations were required for usable yields. Thus, the lake was rendered utterly indispensable to the multitude of nascent nation-states struggling to lay claim to its shores and waters.
In a strange twist of fate, ensuring that the water itself wasn't despoiled in the process of gathering resources meant that a not insignificant number of these smaller states had more powerful navies than some larger ocean-bordering nations further to the east. Two larger states bordered both the ocean and the lake, and armies and navies of both had clashed for the entirety of their short histories. Kesht, of which Gravlin was a part, only claimed a small sliver of shoreline for its harbor — it was no major trading hub, and the relative peace that came with unimportance suited its population of farmers, fishers, and craftspeople.
Nat wondered what the region had been like before the great cataclysm — and its resultant schisms — drove almost all the Ber'Duun, and many of the Ber away. Ber'Duun didn't tend to build static cities like Humans did; almost every Ber'Duun population was nomadic, or at least capable of being mobile. Or at least so Nat had read — he had no reason to doubt it, but Human civilization was still relatively new to Enkoet and their histories tended to be somewhat myopic — or so Nat had also read. He resolved to ask Lyn about it later.
He dug some nuts that he'd pocketed during the earlier portion of the ride out and offered some to the coach master. Other than the intermittent crunching noises, the squeaking of springs, and the sound of the wheels on the packed dirt, they trundled along in silence. The coach master really didn't talk much, which suited Nat just fine. He could be hard to stop once you got him talking, but he could, and often did, sit an entire day and not say a word to anyone.
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As they rolled along, the countryside went from forested plains to scrubland with sparse copses of trees much faster than Nat expected. The proximity to water clearly made a dramatic difference in the local vegetation. There were still small birds and animals everywhere, however, hunting and pecking at the ground — as the sun dipped down towards the horizon their numbers doubled, then tripled. It was interesting that nature seemed to wake up twice a day, versus only the once he was used to. Though he had heard that a sizable percentage of the dwellers in the surrounding desert were much the same as their animal neighbors, relaxing in whatever shade was to be found during the hottest points of the day — performing the bulk of their work during either early morning or late afternoon.
Shortly after the increase in wildlife, Lyn's head popped out the side of the carriage. “It would be best if we started looking for somewhere to put up for the night, since we can't stable at a small town or village. Somewhere the coach can sit level, but with a small rocky hill or stream nearby would be optimal.”
The coach master had a ready reply — “There's a dry riverbed just up the ways with a persistent stream even outside the flood season that I often stop at to water the horses. It cuts deep enough into the rock that it hides the coach from the road. I don't typically overnight out in the open, but as we discussed, I'm willing, as long as you're paying, and we're not stupid about it. That sound suitable?”
“That sounds perfect, and I appreciate the additional risk you're taking on for us.”
“It's admittedly not that much extra risk — it's about as safe as you get out this way away from the major towns. I've just learned to have an abundance of caution, sometimes the hard way. But in truth there aren't a lot of bandits on the roads towards the desert — all the major trade's back eastwards — and those that stray too close to the packlands certainly won't twice. The only things of note out this way are some small trading outposts, a fair number of ranchers that supply Gravlin and the creche, a couple disused quarries, and the cactus mills — that's where Tanner will head out.”
“I'm familiar — I travel through here every year or two, but Nat might appreciate the background.”
“I do; this is all very interesting. Thanks!” Nat nodded agreement.
Lyn went on, “We'll also be carrying on more northwesterly, I think, out into the desert wildlands. We'll probably look for somewhere remote we can make camp for several weeks. It depends where we can find transport — I have no interest in trudging through desert on foot.”
The coach master continued on — Nat was surprised to find that she could be verbose — this was more words than she'd spoken the whole trip prior. “Well, it might seem obvious, but I'd suggest you skirt the packlands on the side towards the wilds. The Brin are friendly enough, but won't appreciate intrusion, and it can be hard to negotiate passage from one to the next. The Ber are thin on the ground where the wildlands meet the packlands, so it should be reasonably safe, especially with you there. The border between the two is obvious enough — if you haven't been before, you'll see what I mean.”
“Noted, and thanks for the advice. Since we might be a little pressed for time when we stop, anyone mind if I break out something to eat and drink in case we can't cook right away? I think I saw some of this great cheese we had for lunch in one of the baskets.” And of course nobody minded cheese, so they snacked on something crumbly, containing pieces of tart dried fruit that Nat instantly fell in love with, and carried on towards the campsite.
