Blinking back tears, the brightly colored rider leaned further forward along the runner's neck, burying sand-burned hands deeper in the beast's golden mane as his heart kept a beat with the pounding of the runner' hooves. The wind was whipping around the both of them mercilessly, carrying with it the sand of Igen's great desert. Behind them, a trio of similarly clothed riders followed, catching the dust of the first runner's passing. The first rider, gender indeterminate due to the free flowing garb common to Igen holders, braved a quick look back. None of the pursuers appeared to be gaining ground, so he eased up on the reins and relaxed his grip along the beasts barrel. Obediently, the chestnut runner slowed, though not enough to be discernible from the stallion's usual dragonlength covering gallop. Looking back again, he noted that one of the three had stopped entirely and the others had pulled their mounts to a steady trot. Hidden behind the fabric that covered his head everywhere except his eyes, the first rider grinned triumphantly, finally pulling his runner into a canter, then a easy stop while he waited for the others to catch up.
It didn't take long, and when the other three riders got within shouting distance, the first pulled back his face covering, revealing a boyishly goofy round face, and let loose a whoop of triumph. Beneath him, the runner stallion danced, echoing his rider's excitement, tossing his head and wickering at the other three runners as they caught up. "Hey, Beneli! How is THAT for Katz Field breeding huh?" The first proclaimed, urging his runner to move closer to the rider who's mount had been one of the two to trot the end. That rider, who pulled back his own face covering to reveal a swarthy youth with narrow eyes, only scoffed at the first. "Shove it between Sevang, you're so short a plowbeast would win with you on board!" The swarthy one, Beneli, retorted. The other two youths, both nearly as short as Sevang, though neither as slender, started to protest this when Sev interrupted the would-be shouting match with high pitched gales of laughter as he rode his mount closer to thump his friend on the back.
"By the Egg Beni! I'll take your big behind up on that some day!" He replied cheerily, his overenthusiastic back-pounding earning him a sour look from the Keroonian trader's son. Both knew they probably wouldn't have the chance to try such a thing, their families followed trade routes that were often at complete opposites. Only mid year after the foaling season did this particular group of boys get together when their respective caravans convened at the Lower Igen coasts where some caught ships back to Keroon or Benden. Sevang's family never bothered wih the ships, but their circuit took them through Lower Igen and down towards Big Bay Hold, where they traded with Northern textile merchants for heavy fabrics favored by some desert holders during the freezing nights of Igen winters. Still, that certain knowledge that they wouldn't see each other again for an entire Turn failed to bring the slender Sevang down.
Nudging his runner away from Beneli's taller dark brown mare, Sevang covered his face again and waved at the rest to follow him back to the large oasis that was the last staging point before the last press to the coast across the desert. They had stopped far enough away so that the dust from their impromptu race wouldn't raise suspicion. Not that any of the trader boys were worried about being taken for Holdless vagabonds, they were more worried about parents and caravan masters taking exception to racing runners to close to hoofstock that might panic. Sevang's parents only kept runnerbeasts for travel and for hauling, but the same rule applied for him. The last thing he wanted was to be chasing those large hairy desertbred hauling beasts all the way back to Igen Hold itself.
Reaching the outskirts, right were the sand gradually turned into sparse desert ground cover, Sevang pulled his runner to a halt and dismounted. It was an old habit of his, learned from his great grandpa before that hilarious old geezer had finally kicked the bucket after literally kicking over a container of expensive red dye. The old man had walked whenever he was able, and saved the energy of his runner for the desert and during important rides. The resultant healthy lifestyle had also contributed to his long life, but Sevang was too young to take that into account. All he knew was that walking was just as much fun as riding, and around here... there were always new caverns to discover as the water beneath the ground shifted and moved. His three friends stopped as well, but none of them dismounted. The youngest, a brown boy with the sharp eyes of an east coast Bitran trader, broke the companionable silence as they walked their mounts alongside Sevang with a cough.
"Y'know Sev, my folk are leaving tomorrow to catch that ship to Southern Boll." The Bitran, Eralsen, said after a moment. Glancing at Sevang with real regret, he moved his small plains runner closer so he could reach down and punch the Igen trader lightly on the shoulder. "Disty and I will beat you next year though!" He added, his young voice cracking a bit.
Rubbing his shoulder, Sevang grinned up at the youngster, studiously avoiding mention of the mist in the Bitran's eyes. Eralsen hadn't had the Turns of leaving his friends time after time like Sev and Beneli had, so the older boys avoided talking about it when they could. "You can try Eral, you can try! But hey, we'll see you off tomorrow morning! I know you probably have camp closing chores to get too now." Sev replied, patting Eralsen's pony-sized runner on the neck while his rider composed himself. Eventually nodding, Eral punched Sevang on the should again and saluted the others before trotting off. Ever sour-faced Beneli softened a little as he watched Eral's retreating back before he turned to Sevang and the last member of their quartet, a short, stocky, character from Keroon who was also Beneli's cousin. "He's not the only one with closing camp chores, right Aradi?" Beneli said, fixing his cousin with a look that left no room for argument. The stocky beastherder nodded shortly, though he was grinning at Sevang with those big teeth of his. "Not leavin' till next day tho. Gotta wait till a big ship comes in for them milch beasts." While not an outright argument on departure time, it did let Sev know that Beneli was sour about something and wanted to leave. Shrugging mentally, the slender Igenite waved the pair off. "See you guys tomorrow then, when we see Eral off." Aradi nodded and saluted, while Beneli just waved stiffly and rode off before his cousin.
Shaking his head, Sevang turned his attention to his runner, patting the creature on the neck. "Grumpy-britches strikes again Fire m'boy. I bet he's super angry you beat that new mare of his." The red stallion snorted at a fly, but Sev laughed as if the runner were commenting on the topic at hand. "Hurrreh indeed my fine, fleet-footed friend. Hurrreh indeed!"
- - - - - - -
Finally arriving at the border of the cothold that housed the permanent residents of the large oasis, Sevang made a bee-line for his family's caravan. He'd already figured that with so many different ships due in at the port at Big Bay Hold, more traders then just his friend's families would be leaving within the next few days. A small gather of sorts would likely be in order, and he knew he'd be needed to set up the selling wagon if his uncle, the caravan master, decided to try and do any last minute trading with the remaining travelers.