Prince of Sands – Chapter One

“When we first began sending men out into the desert, it was not meant as a banishment but an execution. The desert beyond the walls of the Great Cities is unforgiving to even the best prepared of men, as you well know. Yet, occasionally, inexplicably, a man returned from the desert when his sentence was over. A man who survives a year in the desert should be respected, for his strength is unparalleled. Fear the man who survives five years, for only a creature of single-minded, ruthless determination could do so. A man who survives ten? There are only two ways to treat that man. Either make him a general or shower him with property and wealth and then leave him alone. For a man who survives ten years in the sands is a man who has had all mercy, compassion, and hesitation burned out of him forever.”

~Idram Korsary, High Magistrate of the Ithanen Tribunal, personal correspondence with King Lenisek the Wise

Chapter One

Adra shivered as the winds picked up, blowing her city guard’s cloak around her. She was always baffled by how quickly the temperature dropped at night. She’d been told that it was perfectly natural and that professors at the university could explain it. Yet, such temperature extremes seemed innately supernatural to her. As though a god of blazing fury ruled during the day and one of icy indifference ruled at night. She could shake off such thoughts when she was at home, surrounded by light and comfort. On the nights she found herself guarding the city gates at dusk, though, she could swear she felt the gaze of that icy god watching her. She squinted out into the dunes, trying to force her eyes to see with greater clarity. It was the third time she thought she’d seen…something moving out there in the sands.

“You’re imagining it,” she muttered to herself.

“Imaging what?” Asked Marsas, the captain of the guard.

Adra glanced over at the man as he stepped up beside her. Marsas was an imposing man, a full head taller than Adra, and heavily muscled. He was the sort of man Adra imagined could end a tavern brawl by the simple expedient of beating everyone in the place into unconsciousness. Yet, she also knew that he was a basically fair and decent man known more his calm than his fists. He made a point to do some of the training with every recruit and knew everyone’s name. If the cold bothered him, it didn’t show on his face, which made Adra more than a little envious. She was fit and strong, but too slender to simply ignore the cold. She’d even worn an extra shirt beneath her uniform.

She sighed a little to herself, shivered again, and then answered. “I thought I saw something moving out there.”

To his credit, the captain peered hard out into the darkness, his eyes sweeping back and forth across the dunes. He pursed his lips before shrugging. “Maybe you did imagine it. Been a long many years since the last of the desert creatures came close enough to the walls to be seen.”

Adra nodded and then froze. She pointed. “There.”

Marsas followed her pointed finger and then sucked in a short breath. “By the high sun, is that a man on horseback? Alone?”

Adra nodded as a kind of numbness settled over her. No one traveled the desert alone and never after sunset. It was simply too dangerous. The nightwraiths haunted the deserts, to say nothing of many predators said to prowl the dunes. Adra had heard stories of snakes twice as long as a person is tall that could bring down war horses with a single bite. To travel the sands at night wasn’t simple folly, it was madness. Yet, there before her own eyes, she saw a figure on horseback steadily approaching the city at calm walk. Adra jumped when Marsas bellowed orders over his shoulder. It only took a few minutes before half a dozen of the city guard stood at the gate. Adra wasn’t sure what they would do. There was no law forbidding entry at night during times of peace. Perhaps the law didn’t exist because no one imagined it would prove necessary. The guards all stood transfixed by the approaching figure for twenty minutes as it closed the distance with the gate.

The person on the horse made a single quiet noise and the horse drew to stop mere feet from the guards. The horse appeared healthy, if a little on the lean side. The figure who sat on it was swathed in a dark cloak, a deep cowl pulled far forward, obscuring the face beneath. It rested one gloved hand on the saddle’s pommel. She couldn’t know it, but she was sure that the figure stared at her for one long moment. The icy feeling she got from it was so similar to one she felt from the night that she nearly stepped back. Marsas took a small step forward and let his hand fall none too subtly by the hilt of his sword. The cowl twitched slightly as the figure regarded Marsas.

“State your business and intentions, traveler,” said the captain of the guard.

There was a long pause before the figure finally spoke and a steady male voice issued from beneath the cowl. “I invoke the right of return.”

There was a long moment where all the guards tried to process the words, right of return. They all knew them from training. It was when a criminal sent into the desert returned after their sentence was completed. Of course, it hadn’t happened in the four years Adra had been a guard. No one had invoked the right of return since her grandmother’s time. The desert was pitiless that way. They all just stared at the man while he, well, who know what he was doing beneath the cowl.

“Let me see it,” Marsas finally said, breaking the silence.

The man swung down off the horse and walked over to the captain. Adra hadn’t realized it while he was up on the horse, but he was tall. Taller than even the captain, if not quite so bulky. The man pulled the glove off his right hand and pushed up a sleeve. He showed the captain the inside of his forearm. Adra could see the discoloration from the tattoo. If she remembered correctly, it was a falcon’s head in profile with two dates beneath it. One date was the day a prisoner was banished to the desert. The other was the day a prisoner’s sentence was over. The captain stared down at that tattoo for a long time before he looked into the shadowed depths of the cowl.

“Is it you?” The captain whispered.

There was a brief pause before the man answered. “No. That man is dead. The desert killed him.”

A look of pain crossed the captain’s face before he schooled his face into rigid neutrality. “Adra, come here.”

Adra walked cautiously over to the two men, “Yes, sir.”

“Please examine the tattoo.”

Adra peered down at the tattoo. She supposed it must have been a crisp black at some point, but it looked faded now. She remembered right. It was a falcon’s head in profile. She looked at the dates and her mind went momentarily blank. This man had been in the sands for twelve years. It seemed ludicrous. No, she realized, it was impossible. No one could have survived out there for that long. The tattoo sat there in start counterpoint to her disbelief. Whoever he was, this man had done the impossible. She looked at the captain.

“It’s,” she took a deep breath and continued, “it’s the right day, sir.”

“Thank you, Adra,” he said before addressing the other man. “Your right of return is valid. Open the interior gate and let him pass.”

Adra stood next to the captain as they watched the man put his glove back on, remount, and ride into the city. Adra looked at the captain who wore a far off expression, as though his mind were hundreds of miles in the distance or, Adra realized, twelve years in the past. She steeled herself and turned to the captain.

“Sir, who is that man?”

The captain’s eyes snapped back into focus. He looked at her and seemed to make a decision. “I guess there’s no harm in telling you. Everyone will know soon enough. He was Prince Gelik, heir to the throne.”

“Was, sir?”

“Twelve years, Adra. Twelve years in the heat, sand, and monsters. Twelve years unable to enter any of the Great Cities. His only contact with other people coming from caravans or the occasional passing army. Yes, I meant was. I knew Prince Gelik, but only the winds and gods know who that man is now.”

© 2019 Eric Dontigney