Free Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1) by Peter Yard

would be a linked line of twelve to fifteen camels. Mikel and the Traders would be riding horses as far as the Eastern Caravanserai. There instead of a chaotic mix of tents there would be a defensible fort with space for many camels, places to sleep, feed, bathe, buy necessities and do some bartering. There could be no true Western Caravanserai because Bethor would not tolerate any permanent structure that challenged their cultural authority, Tei knew because the Traders had been continually trying to get permits to build. The most they could ever get was the open piece of land as long as there were no permanent structures, not even in wood. So it had become a tent city, even the stadium was regularly dismantled, it was after all just a series of elevated platforms, it looked more imposing when full but when deserted the pretense was obvious.
    The trade goods had been arranged previously and boxed by her team while she had been ‘wasting’ her time with Mikel. Though now the whelp was starting to become interesting. Annoyingly inept, but interesting. He must have clearly stood out within the Center, perhaps the Traders could use his talents and naivety to their advantage.
    The caravan would head out across the relatively lush regions of western Arva. Some rivers from the mountains to the north and south of Bethor flowed inland forming a network of smaller rivers that ended in a large lake. The whole area was a fertile food basket for the known world and produced many highly tradable items. Beyond the lake the country went rapidly from lush grassland to semi-arid and then to desert. They would then be in true camel country. Then the Trader’s renowned skills would dominate.
    Normally, a caravan would visit as many of the Cities of the Plains as possible but recently there was a sense of trouble brewing. No one knew exactly what was coming but if Bethor seemed crazy at the moment it was nothing compared to the Cities. Even if they headed east as directly as possible they would come dangerously close to Lindin on the northern shore of Lake Baikal. They would have to divert further north. The added revenue from visiting the Cities was just not worth the very high risk. But she was curious.

    He was dreaming of a gentler time, soothing voices, bright sun and waves gently rushing up over the damp sand to sweep around his ankles. There were voices behind him, calling to him but he started running away. Soon he stopped and turned around but there was nothing behind him, there was no way back to the soothing voices.
    He woke with a start. A dark hooded figure against the pre-dawn sky was shaking his arm.
    A woman's voice. "Come on Mikel. Time to get up and get packed. Dawn will be here soon."
    He didn't remember what he had been dreaming about, just that it somehow left him with a feeling of incompleteness, like giving up on a puzzle you couldn't solve.
    The camels were quickly loaded. Everything had been prepared the previous day so this morning was just a matter of putting everything together. It seemed like they were ready to go. The reality was somewhat different, some of the camels were more than reluctant, while many seemed good tempered others were nasty and loud; he was warned that they could bite. Everyone else took this in their stride, even joked about it as if this was just good natured banter by the animals before the journey.  
    Finally, he would have to ride a horse. The day before one of the older Traders, Tarvis, had led him around on a horse like a child giving him a very quick introduction to riding.
    Tarvis was a man in his mid forties, he was resourceful, smart, an excellent scout, his graying plaited blond hair against his sun-browned skin made Mikel think of a wise guru or hermit, and he had beads to match. He was no hermit but he did keep to himself a bit. He was leery of outsiders but trusted Tei implicitly.
    Mikel blocked out the laughs when he was on the horse, but noticed that none of them came from his