I peered past Darid but saw only darkness within.

"Oh, right. Don't know how much time we still have. The sun is strange here. So, what are the terms?" asked Darid as calmly as if he was bartering in the market.

"Don't speak with th-mpf-mmpf-" there was a short scuffle in the darkness and the voice was silenced.

"If you return their children unharmed before sunset, the lamia are willing to forget about your transgressions and let your group live. If we do not come to terms, they will kill everyone," I told him gravely.

"Mmpf!"

Darid looked back into the darkness with a critical eye, before he turned back to me. "My group is in agreement. Our employer not so much." He leaned his head to the side, a wide grin spreading over his face. "Then again, he only bought protection for his person, not for his actions."

I would've spat on the ground in disgust, if I had worse manners. What kind of guardsman would only follow the letter of their contract?

"Korvax, Robb, tie him up and then help me get rid of these stones," said Darid into the darkness, before grabbing onto a few shards. "I'm very happy you passed by, Drake. I already thought we would have to starve in there, or get burned out. You have no idea how often I asked them to talk, but they just wouldn't listen!"

I could understand the lamia. Who would want to talk with these pale barbarians? And now that the entrance was gradually cleared by three pairs of hands, I noticed the brownish mark on Darid's throat: a slitted eye with a curled vine around it. One of the Cursed.

My eyes twitched as I took a step back to get some distance between us. I didn't want their bad luck to rub off on me.

"I hope the lamia don't count a few scratches as harming. The others were a bit rough to them, before we could stop it. Seriously, if we had known that he wanted to steal children, we wouldn't have taken this job. We'll make sure he gets blacklisted in the Guild. That should be a blow to his merchant business. It's not easy to hire good guards for merchant caravans. It's not necessarily cheaper to hire us adventurers, but quicker and easier. And depending on the route, we can offer better protection against the monsters. If he's blacklisted, he's no longer allowed to post quests in the Guild."

I took another, unobtrusive, step away from the chattering Cursed. Besides, his constant grin was annoying. Didn't they teach manners beyond the mountains? Then again, why would they teach some Cursed proper manners?

"I don't think they'll count a few shallow scratches as harmed, but I will go and ask them. Please excuse me." With a proper excuse, I hurried away from the entrance. Only a few stones remained.

The jackals growled at me as I stopped outside of their protective encirclement.

"They have agreed to return your children, though they seem to have scratches. I have yet to confirm how severe these scratches are. But I assume you wouldn't kill them over mere scratches?" Though my resistance to that was waning. Better to get rid of the Cursed and their employer. Against my oath, I could even argument that the lamia were the weaker group and in need of protection, which wasn't true. I knew it. Best to get this done with words quickly and leave.

"We will judge their scratches. If we deem them too severe, we might ask for retribution. Or a duel." The older lamia stared at the entrance with a stony face, while the younger looked torn between fading anger and budding hope.

I inclined my head at the older lamia's words. And hoped in the darkest recesses of my mind that they would ask for a life-and-death duel under the deserts law, where even my oath couldn't compel me to interfere if they killed the Cursed.

But it shouldn't be. Darid the Cursed and a woman with a bow ushered the children out into the blazing sun. They were clearly frightened, and a few had indeed light scratches, but they were miraculously unharmed. Behind the children were the other two minions of the Cursed and a tied up person who could only be a terrible merchant, going by the seedy glint in his eyes. Except for the merchant, they all bowed.

"I'm sorry for what has happened. If we had known that our employer planned to kidnap your children, we wouldn't have taken the job. Please forgive us and be rest assured that our Guild will hear of this. To participate in kidnapping and slavery is taboo for us. And though people know this, some still try to use us for their nefarious plots." Darid the Cursed glared at the merchant during that last sentence.

To think that the Guild of the Cursed had rules, and that any Cursed would conform to them! How quaint.

The older lamia slithered towards the clump of children with a critical eye, then nodded. "We accept your apology and will refrain from shedding your blood. But be aware that we won't be so lenient, should something like this happen again." With a hiss, her tribespeople slithered from their shadows, picked up the children and left without another word. The younger lamia and the pack of jackals glared at the remaining humans, before bringing up the rear.

"Damn, that was intense! Can we go back into the shade now? It's too hot out here," complained the woman, tugging at her sweat-soaked clothes.

"You think about comfort, when we have no idea where we are or how we can get back to a city? Hells, even a village would do!" grumbled the Cursed.

"Let her. I think it's better to wait until evening, when it gets a bit cooler. We won't get far without camels or water anyway. Why exhaust ourselves by walking through the heat?" asked the man named Robb.

It had nothing to do with me. I gave them a shallow bow, as thanks for cooperating, and waved my camels over. Two, maybe three more hours of sunlight and heat. I should rest, but I had no inclination to do so near the Cursed and his group. I started walking towards the south.

And I had to get back at Polly, for misinforming me about the situation. A terrible monster, indeed! If she knew about the group of lamia, she could've said so. Speaking of, where was my stupid bird?

"Are we still alive?" asked a voice from behind me. Turning slightly, I saw her feathered head pop out of a bag to look around. "Oh, they're all gone. Whew. That could've ended terribly." Jumping out of the bag, she climbed to the top of the saddle.

"Daddy, when are we stopping? It's hot, and Polly is hungry!" she started her petulant screech.

"You lying feather-duster won't get dinner today."

"Whaaat? Why! Polly is hungry! Give Polly food!"

"You said it was a single terrible monster, instead of a lamia tribe. You could've killed us both with your lying!" Maybe my voice was a little bit louder than good manners allowed, frightening Polly into silence. But I hated liars, and Polly knew that. Trusting liars in the desert could mean death. If you were lucky.

We walked in silence until the sun was three fingers over the horizon, before my oath tugged me to a stop.

'They have no water, no food and no gear. They are like weak, helpless children. They'll die of dehydration.'

'Good riddance, I would say. Who even told them to leave the city and wander into the desert? And to kidnap lamia children?'

'They have no one to guide them home.'

'They are Cursed. And non-natives. I have no obligation to help them.'

'Would you really let them die because of their own stupidity? You swore to protect those who can't fend for themselves. Your teacher would be ashamed to know that you would break your oath because of such trivialities.'

"FINE!" I shouted into the evening sky and turned my camels around, walking back the way I came. Times like these, I hated my oath. Especially because it always sounded like Polly nagging at me.

'But only until we reach Rovia!' I hissed at my oath.

The sun vanished, the temperatures dropping near instantly.

"Why are we turning back?" asked Polly. "And why won't you give me food?! I'm hungry!"

"Because you lied to me," I told her with a dark voice.

"I'm sorry I lied, can you now give me food?" she asked sweetly. I knew she didn't mean her apology. Just as I knew that I would cave under her wailing and give her a handful of grains to make her stop.

"Daddy! Give me food! Give me food!"

I tried to ignore her, really, I did. I managed until the pillars became visible in the twilight. Someone stood in front of the entrance with a torch.

"Give me food! Drake! Drake! Food! Drake! Food!"

I caved. A quick rummage through the packs and my stupid bird stuffed her beak with the grains I had put in front of her, leaving me with blessed silence.

"Good evening," waved the torch-bearer. On closer look, it was the overly enthusiastic Cursed.

They really should teach them at least basic manners.