Read Online The Map of All Things by Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online

advance of the second coracle. High above, the figures in the wicker basket doused the central brazier and let the silk balloon sack deflate. As the coracle descended, the men threw coils of rope down to ground workers who had pounded stakes into the patchy grass.
    When the basket was anchored, former soldan-shah Imir swung himself over the coracle's side and dropped to the ground, where he swayed unsteadily on knees unaccustomed to solid land. “What a pleasure to be back on Uraban soil again!”
    Xivir came forward to embrace him, sending up a flurry of brown dust and grit from the other man's dirty traveling clothes. “Welcome home.”
    “Please tell me you have a bath and food—most importantly a bath.”
    Burilo came up to shake his uncle's hand. “We have already drawn water from the wells, my Lord. Cauldrons are heating it over a fire.” Xivir's son was Omra's age—the two had been boys together—and Burilo had already proven himself to be a good administrator, a wise man, and a fitting soldan-in-training to rule Missinia.
    The three men walked toward the bath tent. “Was your journey successful?” Xivir asked.
    “Oh, yes.” The older man's eyes sparkled. “More than I had hoped, more than you can imagine.”
    When the second coracle drifted in half an hour later, caravan leaders and representatives of the Gahari merchant family swarmed forward with slate boards to tally the goods. Curious camp workers unloaded the cargo, while traders squabbled over the division of the profits.
    Imir had made the desert trek three out of the past five years, and by now he had grown quite fond of the nomadic people; he knew their culture, their customs, and had even learned to speak passable Nunghal (though Khan Jikaris teased him for his silly accent).
    Given the freedom to travel, and relieved of political responsibilities, the former soldan-shah felt more content now than when he'd ruled all of Uraba. He did not miss the press of advisers and emissaries with their accompanying rivalries, nor the tragedy of scheming wives and assassination attempts. His only disappointment on these trips was that Sen Sherufa na-Oa did not accompany him. The Saedran scholar would have been a great companion during his explorations—not only because she spoke the native language far better than he, but also because Imir was quite fond of her company. However, while she encouraged him to bring back any information about the unknown southern half of the continent, Sherufa didn't personally enjoy the rigors of traveling.
    Nevertheless, Imir clung to hope….
    Entering the shade of the bath tent, he gulped down a flask of cool well water, then savored a cup of good Missinian wine. Burilo directed servants to pour buckets of heated water into a wooden tub, while a young woman added aromatic herbs and oils.
    With a groan and a sigh, Imir shucked his filthy travel clothes, let them fall to the ground, and nudged them away with his toe. “No need to wash the garments—just burn them.” He sank into the steaming tub of water with a contented sigh, closed his eyes, and slid his entire head beneath the surface, scrubbing the dirt from his stubbly gray hair and beard. Traditionally, Imir kept himself clean-shaven when in Uraba, but never bothered once he boarded a sand coracle.
    He spluttered to the surface again, shaking his head and spraying water from his lips. Burilo and Soldan Xivir pulled up tripod stools with leather seats and waited to hear more of his travels.
    Imir's eyes were hard, and his expression had changed from a smile of delight to a predatory grin. “You'll be happy to know that we spotted two bandit camps as we flew over, and I noted their positions.”
    Burilo looked eager. “We will raid them and crush them, as we've done before. They've been a thorn in our sides for far too many years. In fact, the bandits harassed Desert Harbor only a week ago, but we drove them off.”
    Soldan Xivir shifted uncomfortably on his stool.