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"WHAT'S THIS ABOUT, ASEGGAS?" a deep, irritated voice rasped from a cot on the opposite side of the dimly-lit tent. "What's so important it couldn't wait until sunrise?"

Aseggas yanked on the rope and pulled Thami forward. "Found a stray dog sniffing around our camp, Chief. A Tafilatan dog."

A dark form stirred in the shadows and rose to a seated position on the cot. Thami squinted, and an imposing form took shape. A rugged man with a gray speckled beard, bald head, and pitch-black skin locked his moon-white eyes on Thami and scanned him up and down.

"So, I see," the man said. "Dog indeed. What is your name, dog? And why are you here?"

Thami paused. The best lies, he thought, are wrapped in truths.

"Why else would I be in this forsaken place?" he said. "I was sent as punishment to see what foolishness you Tutrumese are up to in the Ta'gengan. To see if my legion needs reinforcements or not."

The man chuckled, and for a heartbeat, his eyes darted to the right. Thami fought the urge to follow the man's telltale reaction. But at some point, he needed to learn what the chieftain's glance had revealed.

"Foolishness indeed," the man said. "I couldn't agree more. Trust me, I will be most glad when this foolishness is finished. This god-forsaken land is truly a wretched place. But a legion you say? And where would this great legion of terrifying Tafilatans be, dog? Forgive me. I don't mean to be as crude as Aseggas. Unlike him, I'm not a mannerless desert rat. But you have yet to tell me your name, so what else am I to call you?"

Thami pursed his lips. What harm could there be in revealing his name? Yet why would this enemy chieftain be pushing for that information of all things? Was he extraordinarily polite? Not likely. Something felt off. They had just caught Thami spying. Surely, other questions were more pressing. 

Thami gave a quick bow of his head. "I am called Inem. Inem Tamatut. And whom may I ask, am I speaking to?"

An arc of white teeth joined the bright eyes that peered at Thami. The revelation of his name, fake as it was, had clearly delighted the Tutrumese chieftan.

"I am Chief Izwilen Amman, feared Captain of the Ebian Elites and leader of this special company. And now that I have your name, it will be the source of your demise, Inem Tamatut. Your arrival is rather fortuitous. What we've recently unearthed from these cursed ruins of Okegoola makes someone like you quite useful. Someone...disposable. Someone we can use to test the powers of our latest discovery. Turn and look upon your doom, Tafilatan."

Izwilen gleefully nodded in the same direction he had previously glanced. Thami slowly twisted that way, fighting against the apprehension that had turned his muscles into taut bow strings. To his surprise, he discovered a long staff, carved and bejeweled, resting atop a table. Hardly a fearsome weapon or torture device, and nothing like what he expected his doom to look like. But to his dismay, the staff wasn't the only thing on the table. A leather belt was draped over the table's far corner. And attached to the belt was a gleaming golden scabbard from which the hilt of a ruby-encrusted dagger protruded.

Thami swallowed, trying to stifle a gasp. He'd seen such a weapon before—displayed proudly across his father's chest. A ceremonial jambiya that the King of Tafilat only gave to his most heroic soldiers. No Tafilatan would give such an honor away. For Izwilen to have a King's jambiya meant he'd killed one of Tafilat's best.

As if reading Thami's thoughts, Izwilen grunted and said, "Yes, dog, a dagger of divine Tafilatan steel. Your warriors are less dangerous than a camel's fleas, but your steel is truly unmatched. Perhaps, I'll give you a...personal demonstration. But gaze upon the staff, boy. There's where your doom lies. Tomorrow, as the sun rises, you will either suffer an excruciating death as your soul is ripped from your body, or you will be enslaved to me for eternity. Lovely, yes? So, take these last few hours and pray to that Great Maker you Tafilatans revere. If you are lucky, maybe he will take your life before I manage to corrupt and rule your soul."

An instinctive shiver and flush of cold sweat swept up Thami's back. He winced as he considered what Izwilen planned to do. Thami had even more to tell Zahir now, even more reason to escape, but that was never going to happen. No, instead, his future would soon be filled with torture and a welcomed death if he was lucky.

As Thami's shoulders slouched in capitulation, Aseggas interrupted. "So...so you know how to use it, Chief? You know what it does?"

Izwilen rolled his eyes. "Of course, I know what it does, Aseggas. Why else would we be here? But only time will tell, time and a victim or two, if I know how to use it. Which we won't learn if we don't try, will we? But ask no more about the relic. Fear of the unknown is the worst sort of fear, I find, and we should let the prisoner dwell upon his fate. That said, you did well, Aseggas, for a wrinkled old worm."

"Thank you, Chief. Thank you. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, leave me alone already. Take him away and return just before dawn."

Izwilen sank into the shadows, and Aseggas nodded his head. "Yes, Chief. Absolutely. Before dawn." Then he swung around and pulled Thami out of the tent. But as soon as they stepped outside, Izwilen shouted after them. "Aseggas! Leave the Tafilatan with the guards and come back inside."

Aseggas jerked to a halt. His head turned from Izwilen's guards to Uzemzum, who still waited nearby. To Thami's surprise, Aseggas's hand shook as he passed the rope to his partner.

"Wait for me, Uz," Aseggas said with a waver in his voice. "And don't let anyone else take my prisoner." Then he turned around and sped back inside Izwilen's tent.

A moment later, the chieftain's rough voice drifted through the cloth walls. Thami closed his eyes and concentrated on the muffled conversation.

"As I said, you've done well, Aseggas," Izwilen said. "Surprisingly well."

"Thank you, sir."

"Catching a spy on a moonless night is impressive indeed. How did you find him?"

"It wasn't easy, Chief. He may be a Tafilatan, but he's also a scout of some ability. Fortunately, my many years of service have sharpened my eyes and honed my wits."

Thami shook his head at the lie. Next to him, Uzemzum groaned. Apparently, he was eavesdropping on the conversation inside the tent, too.

"So it seems, Aseggas. So it seems. Perhaps, I have misjudged you. And, as it happens, I find myself in need of true warrior like you. These Pugulian farmers I've been given are soft and useless. Not real soldiers like us. You may be Asagharian and I Ebian, but we both know how to keep our sword sharp and our wits sharper. These Pugulians, though...their efforts have been putrid and filled with excuses, not results. Perhaps with someone like you pushing them, we would find the sword much quicker. The staff is a nice bonus...but the sword is everything. If we find it, you and I will return to Tutrum as heroes. They'll shower us with riches, and we'll live like those rich slobs in Akpọtẹ. Grow fat, fatter even, than the capital's bankers, merchants, and politicians while we bed troves of young women foolishly hoping to marry us. Or better yet, maybe we keep the sword for ourselves and take whatever and whomever we want!"

"Yes, Chief, yes!" Aseggas said. "Sounds like a brilliant plan. Believe me, I'm just the man for the job. I've been wanting to chew on these Puguli asses ever since we left Tutrum. I'll whip 'em into shape for you! You'll be holding that sword before you know it!"

"Excellent, Aseggas. Most excellent. That's the sort of attitude we need around here. Yes. We'll discuss this more in the morning. After we test the staff on this pitiful Tafilatan. Now leave me and return at first light."

Once more, Izwilen's unbridled laughter punctured the Ta'Gengan night. Aseggas joined in with a simpering chortle. Thami, though, sucked in his lip. Something horrible was happening here. What sorts of things were the Tutrumese unearthing? What was this sword Izwilen wanted so badly? And what did it all mean for Tafilat?

Nothing good, Thami thought. Nothing good at all.

As the laughter faded, Thami shifted his arms as much as he dared, testing the looseness of his bonds. One thing was clear. He had to escape. Not just for his sake. All Tafilat needed him now.

Besides, what was the worst thing that could happen if he tried to escape and failed? They killed him? They were already going to do that...or worse. Thami blinked, recalling Izwilen's claim. His soul enslaved for eternity had to be worse.