Brother of the Desert Rats

The Dunes

Zaelan blinked sleepily, awoken by the sun shining brightly as it slowly climbed over the horizon. As he went to rub his eyes, he found his movements restricted. Fully awake, Zaelan opened his eyes to see his hands had been bound about his master's waist. Flushing with embarrassment, he stiffened, afraid to let his master know he was now awake. She must have sensed his movement however, as she calmly undid the knot. His hands fell limply to his sides, and he swayed almost falling. He caught himself however, holding onto the folds of her shirt once more.
He slowly became aware of shouting and looked up curiously, to see a man standing on top the dune, waving.

Dune? Zaelan spun around with sudden panic. There was sand as far as the eye could see, studded with an occasional scrub. With a sinking heart, Zaelan began to guess the truth of his master. What a fool he had been to not have noticed before. Dressed in noble, but dusty well-worn attire, she had not even attempted to disguise her shameful race.

The horse had clambered up the dune and was being pulled to a stop. The sentry was babbling to Ara in a worried tone, but she appeared to ignore him as she swung off her mount. Just as the young guard followed suit, the sentry halted mid speech and saluted, standing at stiff attention. Sliding wearily from the saddle, Zaelan turned to see who was approaching.
It was a grey haired man, dressed also in dusty but fine clothing. He walked with a firm stride, much like Ara's. But what Zaelan noted most, was the blazing fire in the pale eyes.

"Kneel!" The approaching man commanded.

Ara did not even flinch at the steele-like tone, but the young guard fell immediately, his face bent to the sand. Zaelan followed suit. It was almost instinct to obey those cutting words. He had heard them many times before.

"Who is he?" The man was demanding. Glancing up, through his lashes, Zaelan saw the dark finger was pointed to him.

Ara met the angry gaze, squarely. "A slave, grandfather."

"You know we have no such thing here," snapped her grandfather.

Ara scowled. "And what of Mutt-boy?"

For a single moment, the old man was taken aback. Then he glanced suddenly at the young guard, still bowed low to the ground, and understanding crossed his face. "You know you are not to call him that, Ara." His voice was weary as if this was an argument they often had. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "Besides, his is a different case. I would not call him a slave. This however-" he pointed accusingly at Zaelan again. "Is another matter. He not only bears the brand, but you have the audacity to bring a Runen into our home. Of all to choose, why him, Ara? Do you resent me this much?"

The girl's jaw twitched. But she did not speak.

The old man sighed a second time. "Fine, rebel with your silence, but listen to me well. You bought him on impulse to annoy me, but now you have a human life on your hands, someone who relies solely on you. From now on, all matters concerning him are your business. He will look to you for food and bedding and only you can offer it to him. You will train him and keep him from mischief, much like you did with my hounds. Only now this hound has a will and mind of his own. I will not say a word of what you do with him, but I hope, Ara, this will be the last of your shenanigans. Do you understand?"

The girl stared passed him, but finally she gave a stiff nod. "Yes Grandfather," she replied.

The man turned to the young guard. "And you, boy. Did you forget I forbade you to ever leave the camp?"

The guard hesitated, before shaking his head. "No, sir. I remembered."

Ara's grandfather looked more tired than ever. "At least you are honest," he commented, in a wry tone. "Go to Captain Lev for your punishment."