Peri was gathering every inch of her willpower in order not to moan. They were riding in the Quoya desert along the Spice Road. They had hastened their traveling speed in order to reach Shou Lung before she would be too pregnant to travel. She felt nauseous and thirsty, the heat making her head hurt, her vision shimmering. The baby was kicking, very restless. Shut up, little one. You don't want mommy to stay in this godsdamned scorched desert so we will keep riding, she thought. She felt ugly, swollen and wretched, not remembering when she last had slept in a real bed with sheets. She was already used to the dirt covering her clothes, having had the luxury of bathing only a few times along the road. But that didn't mean she didn't long for the daily opportunity to clean herself.
When no-one noticed, she leant forward, too exhausted to sit her back straight. Her hair was dirty, her scalp itching. The gloss and shine was gone. Her belly, huge, was made of fluffy, icky, loose flesh. She grimaced. She doubted any man would ever want her again.
- "Is allmuch dust stirring nastybad bandits riding here maybe?" Cespenar piped up.
- "Again," Peri said, sighing. They didn't pay much attention - they usually convinced the bandits to leave without skirmish.
As the troup galloped forward, however, Sarevok was immediately cautious. First of all, they were clearly riding in formation. Their weapons seemed better than the ones the bandits generally wielded. Most of all, it was the posture and demeanour of the riders. They were not chaotic, greedy and half-desperate robbers. They rode like people who have a plan and a purpose, who feel justified. He put his hand at the hilt of his blade.
- "What is your purpose in traveling here?" demanded the haughty leader of the troup. His face was round like that of a Tuigan, but the features were more clearly Oriental. His hair was raven black, tied in a plait like the hair of all the men and women riding the horses.
- "If it is any business of yours, we are traveling to Shou Lung," Sarevok replied, knowing his eyes were aglow.
- "These lands are claimed by the empire of Yun-Men Khan now," the man said. "We will confiscate your possessions, and then you can pass."
- "Empire, is it?" Winski smirked. "It seems our warlady has been busy since we last heard of her. But dear fellows, we are not willing to part of our possessions. We are quite capable of defending ourselves."
The man evaluated them, wavering.
- "You are outnumbered. This is your last warning. Everyone denying the Khan will die," he finally said. He was taking the threat seriously, but saw no way backing off.
Sarevok drew the Sword of Chaos. Peri was reaching for her own blade.
- "For the Khan!" the leader yelled, and, cheering wildly, the troup attacked.
The fighters were ferocious and skilled, but they were little mach to Sarevok's whirlwind attacks. Peri snarled and charged too, but to her immense dread she found her arms wobbling with the weight of the blade, which slowed her to the extent that one of their opponents managed to slice a good gush in her arm. The shock and humiliation brought tears to her eyes and she charged in even more rage.
But then she could not move one inch. Imoen had put Otiluke's resilient sphere on her, and so the sabers were useless against her.
Realizing the attack was maybe a mistake, the leader of the troup yelled something in their own language to a messenger, who started to gallop off with all the speed he could muster. Winski's triple flame arrow made short work of him, however, the masterless horse continuing its journey as the rider slumped down to the desert sands. The battle was short lived, and they regarded the carnage, frowning.
- "Damn you, Imoen!" Peri was crying of rage, gulping and gasping, shooting murderous glances at her sister. "I am not... I do not want to be... some helpless, ugly, fat, useless... WOMAN!"
- "Peri. There is this matter of the child," Imoen tried.
- "Shut up! I hate myself! DAMN!" She didn't seem to be able to stop her frantic sobbing. "Can't even hold a blade anymore..."
Sarevok dismounted and walked to her.
- "Listen now, warrior," he said sternly. "To my knowledge there hasn't yet been a case where the infant isn't eventually born and comes out of the mother. Might I suggest that you are overreacting a bit?"
Peri glanced darkly at him.
- "I... suppose," she sobbed. "I just hate being useless."
- "I would say that you are doing the hardest job, carrying that child inside of you," Sarevok smiled. "Calm down now. It won't be long any more. We will reach Shou Lung in a few days, and then we can find an inn to live in until the child is born."
