The Sands of Rhun: A Middle Earth Story(Book 2)

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Visitor

   The next day was heralded in by the hot sun beating down on the desert below, as usual. This part of Rhun was always hot. I still wasn't used to it; I came from the Dorgeshi highlands in the north, which were constantly battered by cold winds and storms.

   I pulled the crimson cloth of my head wrap over my face to protect my skin from the sun's rays, casting a pensive glance beside me at Layala. She seemed to be used to the hot weather, and was walking at a steady pace. We had started early on the journey to the village and were making good time.

   "I've never asked before... Where are you from?" I felt strange asking her; I probably should have asked much sooner than now, but though our friendship was strong, it hadn't been based upon conversation. We had grown close through sparring, and though it may have seemed like a strange way for a friendship to form to others, it was normal to me. Neither of us knew much about the other, save what little we had discussed in the past. I knew that she hadn't always been a slave, though. And it had always intrigued me. 

   Layala smiled, as if at a distant memory. "I'm from Morgothrone. I haven't been there in many years though. I was captured when I was..." She counted on her fingers. "Twelve? Perhaps eleven. It's been a while. But I do remember my home."

I smiled at her nostalgic expression, attempting to conjure up an image of the massive capital city of Rhun. "Tell me about it."

   Her eyes lit up with excitement as she remembered. "Well, Morgothrone was quite large, and full of people from all manner of distant lands. Merchants, settlers, bands of wandering mercenaries... We saw them all. Slavers too." At this her expression momentarily clouded over before she seemed to shake off the bad memory. "We lived in the Sand District, which is the poorer part of the city. But we had a good life. My father was a blacksmith. Still is most likely..." At this her voice trailed off.

   My expression betrayed by surprise. "Your parents weren't enslaved?" It was unusual for slaves to have families that were still free. It was even more unusual in my mind that her family hadn't even tried to find her. 

   "No. Just me." She sighed wistfully. 

   "How did it happen?"

   Layala took a deep breath. "I was playing in the streets with some friends. I ran into an alley to hide from them and a man grabbed me. He took me to a camp outside of town and then we traveled over the Sorrowing Sea to Runakesh, where I was sold to Master Dakil."

   "I'm sorry..." I said. The thought of how much better her life could have been filled me with sadness, for though I couldn't possibly imagine a free life, it had always seemed like a grand way to live.

   "Don't be. I wouldn't have met you if it hadn't happened." She smiled, almost as if to reassure me. "How did you get here?"

   I raised an eyebrow. "Don't you know?"

She shook her head and I realized she probably hadn't been old enough to have heard about my tribe.

   "The Dorgeshi have trials at the age of thirteen. The best warriors among us fight to the death, and the winners get sent to the most wealthy lords to train for the Pit. It's brutal, but it ensures that our chances of succeeding in the Pit are higher. Since we're the smallest tribe we're only required to levy a few fighters a year."

Layala looked at me in shock. "So you... You... Killed children?"

   "I had to. I wasn't given a choice to participate, and I was practically one myself. My father is... or was, the chieftain of our tribe, and never cared about me. He raised me to fight, and that's all." I spoke the words with a hint of bitterness. Though that life was past, I still harbored feelings of anger toward the man who had forced me to live the way I had. 'Father' was a term that I only used as a description; He had never been that to me.