Tension

Pilgrimage of Bones

Islana watched intensely trying to make sense of the exchange between the leader of her caravan and the dark robed newcomers.

The sun burned particularly hot today, casting wavering lines in the distance above the sands. No wind blew today. The air itself tasted stale and if burnt.

One of the dark robes pointed at her, touching his blade and ran one single finger across his throat. The one next to him spat on the sand and made to live towards her.

The leader of the caravan moved to intercept him and placed a large hand on his chest, shaking his head. The men tensed and reached for their weapons.

Before Islana could do anything, two of the women appeared next two her with strange looking recurved bows, pointing at the newcomers.

The old woman took a step forward and shouted. "Begone!"

They hesitated for a heartbeat. If the woman were good shots this fight could be over before it started. Slowly they back away, grinning.

The leader of the caravan turned back to his people when the trio moved away in the distance.

"They will be back tonight." He said to all with a worry expression for his wards...