Rhaak put his corded muscles to good use, bracing his callused and rough feet and propelling the skiff through the canal with all speed. His eyes gazed around at the markets, travelers, and peddlers. Luckily, he saw no cries for stopping them or composite bows aimed their way. To his credit, he did his best not to spare too many glimpses at his curvaceous new master. He did not wish to incur her wrath, nor was he the type of man to take a woman when the mood came upon him either, as some others he knew. 

The canal led toward the mouth of the Tagria, and soon the outer shantytown of the great city gave way to a magnificent sight of the great river. Rhaak had not seen the Tagria in many years, and it filled him with a wonder at how much life such a thing could bring. The dust and dirt of the city had given way to trees and brush that clung to the banks. The honks and hoots of various animal life echoed across the trees. If the river were not so wide, the trees would have made him feel constricted, for he was not used to any landscape save the roiling waves of sand. 

"The sultan will not be far behind." Rhaak said, gingerly speaking. He did not know if she wished him to be silent, but so far they had seen no other skiffs or boats, and that would likely change soon. As if Hayashim himself gave them a nudge, around the next bend was an estuary-like split in the river, with various paths on the water to snake through. Rhaak stepped atop the smaller seat he would use when Amira permitted it, and saw the eastern river busy with trade as fishermen bartered along a hamlet. 

Even past them, he could see the dunes of the Alsahra on the horizon, and it was sobering to realize that the sunbaked curse of their land was always just over the horizon. Little did he know, that was the least of their worries, for soon the old gods would have their say upon their souls. 
[@Penny]