The Dead God's Due (The Eye of the Lion Saga Book 1) by Matt Gilbert Read Free Book Online

did,
stretching to the horizon. Like sand, Ahmed thought. Like the
desert, but in motion. They were opposites, and yet the same. “It
tastes of salt!” he declared in surprise. “Why?”
    Yazid shrugged. “All seas
are so.” He gestured for Ahmed to come out of the water.
“There is one more thing I would show you. You will have long
to look at the sea, boy, longer than you will want, I promise.”
    Ahmed knew it was true, but it
pained him to leave, just the same. He marveled at the spinning,
crying gulls over head as he made his way back to his horse,
wondering what it must be like to live in such an amazing place.
“How far?” he asked as he pulled on his boots.
    “Not far. You can see it,
the building at the end of that pier.”
    Ahmed threw a leg over his
horse and snapped the reigns. “And what is there that is so
important?”
    Yazid answered him with
silence. Ahmed scowled at the older man’s back, feeling the
impulse to curse him for his cryptic showmanship, but he was well
aware of the price he would pay for such foolishness. He waited for
Yazid to lead, but Yazid simply turned back and looked at him. “Go.”
    “I am following you.”
    “I said go, boy. Alone.
See.”
    “How can I go on when I
don’t know what I am supposed to see?”
    “You will know. Now go.”
Yazid raised a fist, no real threat since Ahmed was out of arm’s
reach, but a clear indication that further debate was not going to
be productive.
    Ahmed’s horse surged
forward at his urging, eager to run. Sand flew from hooves as Ahmed
pushed the beast to a full gallop. He laughed out loud as groups of
beachgoers scattered, many screaming curses as he thundered by.
    In the distance, he could see
that the ‘building’ was in fact some sort of bazaar,
with many people wandering about. Another hundred yards, and it
became more clear: it was a prison on the beach side of a pier, open
to the air, with many captives inside, shuffling back and forth.
Ahmed drew to a stop, fairly certain that this was the lesson Yazid
intended for him. He watched quietly, trying to understand what was
going on.
    There was a ship moored along
the pier. A long line of small, brown people, men, women, even a few
children, were being escorted by armed, pale skinned barbarians into
the prison. The brown men were a bit like some of the lighter
Xanthians in skin tone and hair, but they were shorter, with flatter
features, and their eyes seemed dull. But that was likely due to
their defeat, Ahmed thought. Some of them were even weeping.
    At the head of the pier, many
barbarians were gathering about a long platform of dark, well worn
wood. There was a podium at the front. Along the back of the
platform, running along its length, was a waist high rail. Ten sets
of chains hung from it at evenly spaced intervals, each a spot where
a prisoner might be held fast. Clearly, Ahmed thought, this was a
courtroom, where prisoners of war were judged. That would explain
the outdoor prison. It was but a temporary thing, and the prisoners
would soon be freed or put to death.
    This should be a most
interesting lesson. He had not even known the barbarians were at
war. It would be good to see how they judged their enemies, to see
if they had the stomach to do what was necessary. He looked about
for a gallows or a headsman, but none was in evidence. Perhaps they
had some taboo against public executions?
    Long minutes passed as the
prisoners continued to file off the ship in chains. The crowd
continued to grow, and Ahmed’s discomfort grew along with it.
It was not rational, he knew, but to be surrounded by so many pale
barbarians troubled him. How could he tell if such men were friendly
or hostile? Perhaps a toothy grin meant intent to kill, among them.
He could barely tell one from another. They all looked alike, a sea
of similar, alien faces differing only in the bizarre variance in
hair color. How could a man have yellow or brown hair? It was
beastly, and having them near him made