D & D - Red Sands by Paul B. Thompson, Tonya R. Carter Read Free Book Online

usual place," said Azrel. The soldier bowed and departed on his grisly errand.
    "When do you leave, Captain?" asked Azrel.
    "Before sunset, Excellency."
    "They may get far by sunset, even on foot."
    Fu'ad chose his words carefully. "I have dispatched riders from the Cobra Regiment to leave the city from all the gates to search for the criminals, Great Emir. When they are found, I shall ride forth with the Invincibles and catch the pestilent scum."
    Azrel chewed fitfully on his graying mustache. "See that you do, Captain. It would distress many ladies in Omerabad to see your handsome head on a pole in Kefaaq Square," he said. "Such is the penalty for failure.
    Fu'ad snapped to attention and bowed. "I will have them, Great Emir, or die trying."
    Azrel smiled unpleasantly. "Is that not what I said?"
    Fu'ad was glad to return to the sunny, dusty street outside the palace. The sultan's realm was home to scenes of great wealth and beauty—and heartless cruelty such as he had never known, even on the battlefield.
    His second in command, Marad gan Rafikiya, held the reins of Fu'ad's horse across the neck of his own mount. He handed Fu'ad the reins as the captain put a foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle.
    "What is the word, my brother?" Marad asked.
    Fu'ad answered, "We hunt them down. The yellow-haired one is to be brought back alive. The rest..." He drew a finger across his throat.
    Marad straightened his back. The mail curtain around his helmet brim jingled musically. "The Phoenix Troop is ready," he said.
    "Call out the Vulture Troop as well," said Fu'ad. "His Excellency Emir Azrel wants no effort spared in recapturing the prisoners."
    Marad saluted and spurred his horse. He galloped up the crowded street, scattering a mob of traders and beggars, and upsetting a line of women who carried the morning's bread in flat baskets on their heads.
    Fu'ad rode back to barracks of the Phoenix Troop. The men there were well into packing their gear for the chase. Fu'ad did not interrupt. His quarters consisted of a single room at the north end of the barracks, plainly furnished. Fu'ad drew the curtain across the door and unbuckled the strap of his heavy helmet. From under his armor, Fu'ad pulled a small golden disc on a chain. He turned the necklace until he'd inspected every link in the
    chain. The yellow patina revealed no signs of wear.
    Fu'ad turned the amulet over in his hands. In low relief on the front was a profile of Sultan Julmet. On the reverse was an inscription in archaic Faziri script: MAY HE LIVE FOREVER.
    The amulet was one of the sultan's many eyes. Each man who took the oath as an officer in the army of His-Magnificence was given an Eye of the Sultan to wear around his neck. Through it, the Faziri monarch could follow Fu'ad's actions. Though it did not show scenes like a magic mirror, it did send location images and feelings back to sensitive magicians at the court. They would know instantly of any triumph—or treachery. The penally for removing the amulet was death. It was believed that the Eye of the Sultan was indeed capable of causing death, if removed. No one of Fu'ad's acquaintance had ever investigated this possibility.
    Fu'ad packed a few items into his saddlebag. He went out to the barracks courtyard, where the Phoenix Troop was assembled. The Eye of the Sultan was hidden beneath Fu'ad's armor, close to his beating heart.

The Word of Agma
    Noon found the companions sprawled beside the royal road. They had made fair progress, almost two leagues, and the easy path to Rehajid weakened their resolve to enter the desert.
    They rested, in their own fashion. Tamakh knelt on a flat rock in meditation. He swayed slightly, back and forth, moving his lips in a silent litany. Not far away, Nabul was trying to fit himself with a keffiya. He put a piece of the white cloth he had stolen over his head, but the headband was too loose and the cloth slid, engulfing his face. Jadira stifled a laugh. The thief whipped off