The announcement was left hanging in the air as nobody responded. Passengers clustered near windows, some even came outside, and simply stared at the blood pooling in the sand and at the bodies lying on the dirt road. The occasional glance at Anzu came here and there but was immediately withdrawn after less than a second.
The passengers' expressions didn't really carry gratitude, but neither was there relief on their faces, just a sort of wide-eyed desperation. The expensive ride they'd paid for had ground to a halt, and the Sage riding with them was much more than he appeared.
But Anzu ignored them. He stepped over to the mercenary with the red bandana, wading through the wet sand with his boots, and crouched beside the corpse. This man must have been the leader of the group, given how loud he was, so looting him was a priority.
His hand touched the man's chest, and the interface responded right away.
DING! Access to inventory granted.
A scroll materialized in his palm. It was parchment, bound with a wax seal bearing the head of a wild boar.
"As I suspected. A bounty scroll."
He began unrolling it. Itani approached with hurried footsteps, sloshing around the sand with her boots.
"You were right. These were no bandits."
"Yeah. Mercenaries."
Anzu pointed to the bottom section of the scroll, where a large dot sat centered in a cluster of smaller ones, and the ink there was glowing faintly with residual magic.
Itani leaned closer and furrowed her brow.
"Wow, I've never seen this. Is it magic?"
"Yes, but it's a very basic low-level enchantment."
He took a few steps forward, and the large dot shifted. He walked back, and it moved again, tracking his position with eerie precision.
"You see? It's an enchanted tracker. Made to track me." He rolled the scroll back up and pressed his lips together. "Typical for bounty scrolls."
Bringing the parchment near the [Clay spewer], he half-whispered the [Minor ignite] spell and held the scroll above it. The flame bloomed, licking across the scroll's edge, as the dry parchment began to crackle. He waited until it burned halfway through, then released it.
Wind caught the smoldering remnants, carrying them off into the desert.
Itani stared at him.
"But a bounty? How?"
Anzu shook his head. "I'm not sure. Let's talk later."
He turned back to the corpse, accessing the inventory once more. He really had no other interest in the dead mercenary's possession except for what they needed at the moment.
A small leather pouch materialized in his hand, producing the unmistakable clinking of coins. He hefted it, as if estimating its weight, even though he could see how many coins there were in the interface.
"Fifty silver coins."
He met Itani's gaze briefly, then walked back to the driver, who stood next to the damaged wheel, inspecting it with a sour expression.
"How far away are we from Lagash?"
The driver pulled a handkerchief from his belt and dragged it across his sweat-slicked forehead.
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"We drove for over an hour."
He looked to the right and stretched out his hand in the same direction.
"We should be only about eight to ten miles from Girsu."
Anzu held up the looted pouch.
"There's fifty silver in here. Would that get us a new wheel in Girsu?"
The driver scratched his chin, narrowing his eyes as he calculated.
"Oh, aye. I think it should."
But then his face twisted into a frown.
"The thing is, see, I'm not supposed to leave the carriage unattended here. Shikku would have my head."
"Oh, no problem." Anzu gestured behind him. "Me and Itani can go. Right, Itani?"
Itani stepped forward, nodding.
The driver's frown deepened as they offered to go. He looked from Anzu to Itani, then toward the shimmering air that was slowly beginning to build up in the distance, as if there hadn't been much rain at all during the night.
"In this god-forsaken heat? You can't be serious."
"But the mercenaries brought horses. I'll take one of those." Anzu pointed at the horses behind them.
The driver's eyebrows shot up.
"You, on a horse? But you won't know how."
"Don't worry. I will. I have some experience with them."
The coachman's mouth opened, then closed. His eyes searched Anzu's face, as if assessing whether this could be a joke, but soon settled into resignation.
"Okay."
Anzu gestured toward the damaged wheel.
"What dimensions do we need? For the replacement?"
The driver crouched and ran his palm along the intact portions of the rim.
"It's four feet in diameter. Just the standard size for Mesopotamian carriages."
"Right."
Anzu turned and waved toward the three dagger-wielding men who'd boarded at Lagash, inviting them to join. They approached warily this time. Their earlier swagger had been replaced by something more measured and cautious.
They looked at the wheel, and one of them grimaced.
"Damn it. Bastards..."
Another spat into the sand.
"Don't worry. We're getting a new one," explained Anzu with a level tone.
He pointed to the unconscious mercenaries scattered across the road.
"In the meantime, take their weapons, and when they wake up, drive them off. Make sure they don't come back."
The men exchanged a glance, then nodded with a hint of satisfaction on their faces.
"Aye. We'll handle it."
But their voices carried none of the rough edge they'd had earlier. Witnessing Anzu fight must have changed that. There was no bravado now, just quiet agreement. It was respect, maybe. Or perhaps just self-preservation. Either way, their presence might keep the other passengers safe while he and Itani were gone.
Anzu walked back to the coachman, who was now inspecting the carriage horses, checking hooves and harnesses with the focused attention of a man trying not to think about stranded passengers and angry employers.
"Alright. Me and Itani will be off now. I think we should be back in a couple of hours."
The coachman straightened, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"Right. We'll be here. Waitin'."
Anzu crossed the sand toward where Itani stood near the mercenaries' horses. Four of them were white and speckled with brown spots, which was apparently typical of the horses that were being imported from the northern steppes. But the fifth one was a grey whose luscious mane was the purest white Anzu had ever seen, swaying gently in the desert's breeze.
It seemed he had just found his pick.
"Alrighty. We're riding to Girsu to get a new wheel for the carriage."
Anzu extended his hand slowly, letting the grey catch his scent. The horse snorted once, then allowed Anzu's palm to stroke its muzzle, his fingers threading through its silky mane.
"How about we take this beauty here?"
Itani gaped, and her eyes went wide.
"Riding to Girsu? On the horse?"
Anzu smiled.
"It's gonna be nice, trust me. You've ridden donkeys before, right?"
"Sure, but this is different."
"No, not at all. It's just faster. Besides, we'll share the horse. You can sit behind me."
Itani hesitated at first, but her expression soon shifted. As a Ranger, she must've looked forward to meeting these animals more closely.
"Alright, let's go."
Anzu swung himself up into the saddle, and the leather creaked beneath him. It was hard and unpadded, which was quite primitive compared to what he'd used in the equestrian center back home. But functional was all they needed right now, and there was no worry on that front. The stirrups also sat at a good height.
He extended his hand down. Itani took it, and Anzu pulled her up behind him. She settled into place, her arms wrapping around his waist.
Anzu waved to the coachman, and the man nodded once more.
"H'yaah!"
The horse moved forward with its hooves crunching through the sand. Wind tugged at Anzu's hair and his cloak. He wouldn't be able to keep his hood on here, but it didn't matter.
After a few minutes, he squeezed his knees inward. The horse responded instantly, surging from its previous trot into a gallop.
Itani's grip tightened once the speed increased. When he glanced over her shoulder, her eyes were wide and alive, full of adrenaline.
The landscape shifted as they rode. More greenery started appearing, along with irrigation channels that cut through the sand, supplying plants with much-needed water. These were tell-tale signs of nearby civilization. Which was good, as it meant that they'd been riding in the right direction.
After about fifteen minutes, Anzu spotted a farmer tending to sheep near a cluster of acacia trees and date palms.
He slowed the horse to a walk, and finally to a stop.
"Excuse me."