Short Fiction: City of the Gods (Ch1)

Chapter 1 - The Wolf and the Camel

"You want to go to the Holy City?" The old man rubbed the cheek of his camel and nodded with toothy grin at the idea of this rural hick running around the Holy City. "They dont just let anyone in."
"You need to be blessed by the Light of the Merciless One or..." He obviously lacked the Black Skin that was caused by the long years beneath the unrelenting light of the Merciless Sun so they would need to Mine some Ice. "...hauling Ice."
"Or Metal." The young pale pulp hiding under the hood of spider-silk smiled in return. "But to do that we need a holy seal which we can only get in..."
"The Holy City." Metal. By Kulon's Frosty Tits, that was a long journey... suicidal even, given the swarms of creatures that nested in the ancient ruins beyond Bkuzos on the far side of the Great Escarpment. "Actually, You might not need to go to the Holy City for a seal."
"How is that old man?" The Pup's words were a cruel estimation of his age.
"I can get us a holy seal." The old man contemplated returning to the place his father had died fifty years ago. "How are you with Ice scimitars?"
"I can use one." The young pup raised a cloth-wrapped tool which, freed of its oil-cloth revealed itself to be a burnished metal ice cutter. "We mining ice?"
"No," The old man pulled a similar tool from the camel pack. "Scorpions."
"Scorpions?" The pup wrapped his ice cutter in the oil-cloth from which he had liberated it. "You mean... Giant Scorpions?"
"Yes..." The old man took a clay cup from his pack and scooped up drinking water from the trough from which his camel was drinking and filled his belly. "There a gully where they nest three days from here."

"Three days by camel - there," the pup cleared his throat of an irrational childhood fear of being ripped apart by giant scorpions. "...then three days back again."
"Its okay to be afraid of Giant Scorpions," the old man cleared snot from his nose into a snot-rag. "Only an Idiot dances with Giant Scorpions."
"Dances with Scorpions..." it was immediately obvious that the old man knew the story of the boy who danced with Scorpions. "I'm not looking to die."
"Neither am I," the old camel handler's memory of the gully was hazy at best. "But if they are still nesting where we are headed, there will be at least fifty of the big bastards."
"I suggest you do some trading." The old man pulled some salt dried meat from a hook on a seller's stall and traded him some blue sky-glass shards for it. "You will need six marches of food and water."
"Yeah," The pup took down three salted meats from the hooks above the seller's stall and offered up a ball of black wax, and a few pieces of blue sky-glass. "You got room on your camel for my food and water?"
"Yes," The old man checked an empty pack on the camel and added the pup's salt dried meat to it. "Should do."
"Fill your water bags." The old man drowned his empty water bags in the trough until they filled. "Camel water's free if you've a taste for it."
"I'm fine with proper drink-water." The pup took down waterskins from a hook, slinging them over his shoulder, dropped his empties on the counter with a shard of blue sky-glass scoffing at the suggestion. "...Camel water."
"Alright," The old man led his camel out beyond the ice cutting village of Kulon, the pup crushing sand beneath his feet close behind. "Off we go."

The camel sniffed at the sweet smelling young man and took a taste.

"Fuck!" The pup slapped the camel away and lurched away from the beast until he was out of its reach. "Your Camel bit me."
"Didn't take you for one of those..." The old man patted the camel and smiled nodding. "So you use that soap made with black liquor?"
"She just loves to bite the asses of pale little whores who wash in black liquor soap." The old man kissed the camel and laughed. "Did the man-whore taste nice?"
"I'm not a sugar-drunk man-whore old man." The pup adjusted his cloth wrapped blade so it would be more convenient. "If it does it again, next time it gets the smack of my blade."
"Hurt my camel," The old man developed a hate for the young pup, shaking his head. "...and you carry your own food and water."

"Come on you," the old man led the camel further from the young pup whose choice in hygiene was attractive to the cow. "No biting the man-whore."

The old man started singing a song about dancing with scorpions as they headed across the hot sands.