Sandstorm by Megan Derr Read Free Book Online

impossible to tell their color, but Isra knew that one was unrelenting black, the other as soft and gray as smoke. "Simon," he greeted as he accepted his horse's reins and smoothly mounted.
    "Make your apologies? Finally in the Sheik's good graces again?"
    Isra made a face. "Until I shift the sands again." He tugged up the black fabric that would protect his mouth and nose from the elements. "Where are we patrolling?"
    "Eastern sector, and we are due to relieve the first watch in ten minute." Simon covered his own mouth and turned his horse east. With the head wrap to cover his hair and the dark to hide the brilliant green of his eyes, there was no way to tell that Simon was anything but another man of the Desert. Fastened to the front of his robes and head wrap were two bundles of feathers - three brown, two white, with a plain silver medallion holding them all together at the tips. They marked him as a guest of the Falcon Tribe; so long as he wore the feathers, to harm him was to harm a Falcon and make them an enemy.

    The feathers and medallions Isra wore were greater in number and complexity - a dizzying combination of brown, black, white and gray, each of the half-dozen bundles secured with medallions that indicated his place in the Tribe - nephew to the Sheik, a skilled warrior, a teacher, and one of those rare members who was familiar with the customs and language of foreign countries.
    "Then I suggest we hurry," Isra said, a grin in his voice. "Ketcha!" he cried, and raced off into the sands, Simon close on his heels.

    Four
    "Sahayl."
    "Yes, honored father?" Sahayl shook himself from his thoughts on the raid and looked at his father, trying to obliterate the hope that wanted to flare up. Sweat and blood were soaked into his robes, as well as the robes of his soldiers, giving the air a bitter, unpleasant taste. His entire body begged to be allowed to rest.
    "Were my orders unclear?"
    The hope he'd tried to kill died a painful death at the simple question, leaving his chest aching. "No, father. But we took the encampment-"
    "I said to kill everyone," Hashim snapped. "Why did I see you ordering some be left alive?
    Are you Sheik?"
    Sahayl was grateful most of his face was covered. "No, honored father, merely your humble Amir."
    "Only because I have no other sons," Hashim snapped. "There is too much of your weak mother in you, to not only disobey me but to do so to be soft. Every person left alive is one who will someday be another enemy."
    "They were mere boys," Sahayl protested before he could stop himself. "They could barely hold the swords that had been thrust into their hands. There was no reason to kill them; they had not even tried to attack. I thought perhaps-" He rocked hard as his father backhanded him, the familiar taste of copper filling his mouth. Bloodmoon stilled under him, uncertain of Sahayl's balance.
    Hashim looked as though he thought one hit insufficient, but lowered his hand. "You are not the one who is meant to think, Sahayl. I gave you orders, your sole job was to obey them. If you cannot obey, how are you supposed to be fit to lead?" He turned from his son and focused his attention on the desert. "Would that I had more sons, instead of a Sandstorm that has become a breeze."
    It shouldn't hurt, not after so many years, but Sahayl couldn't help the searing pain deep in his chest that came at his father's words. The only mercy was that they were separate enough from the rest of the men that no one would know why the Sheik had hit his son.
    What had happened to the father that always seemed proud of his son? The father who had taught him to ride and fight? To find his way through the sands no matter where he was. The man who had smiled every time someone bellowed in outrage of the last mayhem the young Sandstorm Amir had caused?
    But he knew what had happened. The son had proven to be soft, despite what his nickname and skills with a sword implied. His father would never forgive him that, and with