Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 136

Chapter 136

Without time to feign nonchalance, the man called out to stop them.

What now? Run, or act? As Nataek turned, his eyes met Medeus’s again. In a blue cloak worked with fine patterns, Medeus looked every bit the high damgar. Glancing down at his own attire, Nataek decided.

Right—this is exactly when that ridiculous “salesmanship” training was meant to help.

Recalling the prep in Kish, Nataek turned toward the caller—then froze at the face. Cloaked, unmistakable: the same man from the gate who had shouldered them and then blustered as if they were at fault. He’d seemed to be with a Guti then, but now he was alone.

So he followed us, did he?

Nataek began smoothly, “What is it?”

“Do you remember me? We collided outside the gate.”

How could he forget? The tone, the swagger, and the fact that he was the only Ur man openly moving about with a Guti. His bearing screamed Ur native.

An Ur man cozy with the Guti… clearly not ordinary. To avoid another scene, Nataek smiled warmly.

“Of course. We were at fault for not paying attention—how could I forget?”

While Nataek spoke, Medeus’s eyes flicked around the man, searching for the Guti from before. No one. Not even a servant.

The man said, “I erred too—didn’t realize you were damgar from Delam.”

“No matter; please don’t give it another thought.”

“Well then… ahem.”

His gaze darted between Nataek and Medeus—more precisely, to the bundles on their kunqas.

“Heading to Mari, are you?”

Since hearing they were Delam damgar, his attitude had flipped.

Looking for something, are we? Why the sudden interest?

“Yes. We were on our way to Mari.”

“What goods have you brought?”

A merchant should push and pull—don’t bow and scrape blindly.

Time to use the Soothsayer’s lesson. Nataek smiled, angling his back to block the view of the packs.

“Goods that sell in Mari.”

“If it’s Mari, then gold and silver?”

When Nataek tilted his head, the man stepped closer. Medeus moved instinctively to bar him, but Nataek anticipated it and shifted forward into Medeus’s space to keep things smooth.

“Is there something you need?”

“If you’re selling gold and silver, I’m very interested.”

At his eagerness, Nataek glanced to Medeus. Shall we engage? Medeus gave a small nod. Nataek faced the man again.

“In that case, our goods will at least be a feast for the eyes.”

“I don’t just want to look—I intend to buy.”

He leaned in as if to share a secret. Nataek held his ground against the urge to step back.

“You’ve heard the rumors—fewer Delam damgar come to Ur now, and their wares are poorer than before. It’s hard to find anything decent.”

“Ah… so that’s the situation.”

“Before you take your goods to Mari, why not bring them to me first?”

To whom and where? Nataek couldn’t go blind, not knowing the buyer or the place. He was about to glance to Medeus for counsel when the street froze. Dust hung still in the air. People stopped mid‑stride. Medeus and the kunqas, too.

A glowing choice appeared before Nataek’s eyes.

What will you ask?

[1. Ask who you’re going to.]

[2. Ask where you’re going.]

Another choice.

He frowned, sighing. If he didn’t choose, the system would force a random pick. He stared at the options.

…Both are necessary. Odd. Choices weren’t this frequent early on. It feels like Ur keeps narrowing what I can ask…

The thought flashed: final‑city difficulty spike.

He huffed a dry laugh. Not only were the questions restricted, the system wasn’t even giving him time to consult Medeus—whatever he chose would lock in.

So—no luck, just decide.

He weighed it. The request was: bring the goods before Mari. Should he ask “where,” or “who”?

They hadn’t even begun proper scouting; the early forks were already exhausting. He glanced at frozen Medeus.

“Medeus. Which do we choose?”

After a long, tight‑lipped rumination, Nataek chose. If I know who, I can infer where. Decision: 1—who are we going to?

Option 1 flickered, and Medeus’s chest rose again. Market noise returned.

“Who?” the man smirked. “The one I serve. Very keen on gold and silver—and proper. Doesn’t toy with payment. You can be at ease.”

Given his lofty tone, and remembering he’d been with a Guti, he likely occupied a high station in Ur. Refusal could bring trouble. Catching Medeus’s eye and getting a nod, Nataek inclined his head.

“Understood. Lead on.”

“Not now. Tomorrow morning I’ll send a servant—follow him.”

Should’ve asked “where.” Then we might have gone straight away. Suspicious he wouldn’t take them now—but a choice made can’t be undone. Nataek agreed and set the meeting.

After they parted, Nataek canvassed the market about the new keyword, “Sibiera.” Unlike other cities, he could not relax as he walked—tension ratcheted every step.

“Medeus.”

He tugged Medeus inward toward the safer side of the road, putting his own body between him and a passing knot of Guti.

The street’s not even that narrow. Think they own the place.

Those less quick than the pair were shouldered hard; some even fell. Nataek’s eyes sharpened.

“We’ll need to be careful.”

He felt Medeus staring. Following the line of that gaze, Nataek looked down—and realized his hand had slipped around Medeus’s waist.

“Ah—sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

Like a smaller beast sheltering a mate, Nataek had half‑embraced him. He withdrew quickly—only to be startled by a loud rattle.

“Please make way!”

A vendor with a loaded cart was passing. Instinctively Nataek threw up an arm like a ward around Medeus—then caught himself and dropped it.

“It’s as crowded as any other city. We should stay alert.”

“Mm,” Medeus replied, studying him.

All the while, the kunqas watched, heads tilted, as if entertained.

Through the day, Nataek burned twice his usual energy, guarding against Guti, minding the kunqas, and keeping Medeus sheltered. After a full circuit of the market with scant results, stalls began to close; the two had no choice but to return to their lodging.

“Not much gained, and I’m exhausted,” Nataek said, dragging out a chair and dropping into it.

“Tired?” Medeus asked, concerned.

“Yes. How could I not be—”

He trailed off. Medeus didn’t look tired at all. They’d ridden and camped for days, and then scoured the markets—yet not a hint of fatigue. Nataek marveled again at an ancient’s stamina.

“Why do I feel oddly insulted…” he muttered, just loud enough for Medeus’s keen ear.

“Insulted by what?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

His mood sagged. For all his modern training, his body couldn’t match these ancients; it pricked both a modern man’s pride and a man‑to‑man competitiveness. He swallowed the bitterness with a click of his tongue, tousled his damp hair, and went to the window.

Bathing was easy enough anywhere in this world that loved washing—but drying hair was another matter. He stood before the lattice, letting the breeze do what a dryer could not. The moon was up, lighting the quieted market.

Rustle—

Leaves brushed below. Nataek looked down. Inside the yard behind the tavern, the proprietress stood with a heavy basket. After a cautious glance around, she slipped out the back gate. As Nataek watched, a shadow fell across the window.

“Teresi. What are you looking at?”

Medeus followed his pointing finger.

“Should we tail her?”

Medeus spread his arms and braced a hand against the wall—caging Nataek without effort.

“Better to watch a few more days. If we’re caught tailing her, it gets messy.”

“Right. That’s wiser.”

Focused on the scene below, Nataek didn’t realize he was wedged between Medeus and the window—until he turned with a puzzled tilt of his head—

“Heading out this late… huh.”

He found a pale chest right in front of his face.

“Ah—you startled me. Please—let me through.”

He pressed a hand to Medeus’s chest. The solid muscle didn’t budge.

“…Medeus?”