‡

As Thami approached Commander Zahir’s tent, he slowed his pace and absorbed his surroundings. The camp was eerily but understandably quiet. Most of the soldiers in his squadron were sound asleep in their tents, recovering from another day of the desert’s withering heat.

Do they question why we’re here? Thami thought. Do they ask themselves why we’ve been stationed in the middle of nowhere to do nothing but sweat? Or am I the only one here who wonders a such things?

Thami shook the thought away. He’d questioned the wisdom of his so-called superiors over and over, and where had it gotten him? Always into trouble. Right now, he needed a different mindset or cleaning the latrine could become a permanent job. He stared ahead and focused on the commander’s tent, easy to distinguish in the darkened camp. Oil lanterns still burned inside the squadron’s largest tent, and its canvas walls glowed serenely. Thami inhaled deeply and caught the soothing scent of the oud incense the Commander frequently burned. Clearly, the man was still awake and likely hard at work.

If I were Commander, I’d be the first in bed, not the last, Thami thought. What’s the point of being in charge if it means you must work harder than everyone else? That’s the kind of nonsense Father would have preached, and where did it get him?

Dead.

Thami scuffed the sand and hurried forward. He’d deal with whatever the Commander wanted, finish cleaning the latrines, and do his best to stay out of trouble. Once his squadron returned to Tafilat, he would be free to leave the army. Then, at last, he could do something sensible with his life.

A heavy sigh later, he reached the tent’s entrance. Even though the flap was open, he stopped at the threshold, cast his gaze downward, and straightened his posture. He gave his mop of hair a push to the side and announced his arrival. “Excuse me, sir. You asked for me to report? Thami Alaqiq?”

When no one answered, Thami lifted his gaze and peered into the tent. Commander Zahir sat at his desk on the far side of the tent, his head bent over a parchment and a quill in his hand. He was working on some sort of document and seemed oblivious to Thami’s presence.

Thami cleared his throat and said, “Sir?”

The commander shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on his work. “I know you are there, soldier. Hard to miss the reek in my doorway. You were told to clean up. But I bet your hair is unruly. Your uniform is half-tucked. And, for certain, you still stink of shit.”

Thami winced at the Commander’s barb. He crossed his arms behind his back and balled his hands into fists. He clenched his jaw and thought, Shouldn’t you expect me to smell of shit…sir? You’re the one making me fill buckets with it.

But instead of speaking his mind, he said, “Did my best, sir. Thought it more important to arrive as soon as possible.”

“Of course, you did. But that’s the problem with you from what I can tell. Always thinking and interpreting instead of simply doing what you’re told to do. Now, move back ten paces and wait there until I am ready to deal with you. And soldier—”

“Yes, sir?”

“Stand downwind.”

Thami clenched his fists even tighter, digging his fingernails into his palms. But he nodded, stepped back from the tent, and merged with the shadows.

An eternity later, Commander Zahir finally called out. “Enter, soldier.”

Thami’s head snapped up, and he nearly jumped. He pushed at his hair and hurried into the tent. But the second Thami entered, Zahir raised his hand. “That’s far enough.”

Thami stumbled to a stop. Once he had regathered himself, Zahir said, “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Yessir. The other sentries told you I fell asleep at my post. But I—”

Zahir raised his hand again, cutting Thami off. “Save your excuses, soldier. Even if you are being truthful.”

“But, sir, I haven’t had a chance to defend myself.”

“As I said, Thami, save your breath. When soldiers report other soldiers, that tells me all I need to know. They are frustrated with you. Which means, whatever happened last night was not the first incident of its kind. And given what they accused you of, your fellow soldiers are likely extremely frustrated with you.”

“Sir?”

“Do you know what the punishment for falling asleep at your post is, young man?”

“I assumed latrine duty, sir.”

Zahir shook his head. “No, Thami. In times of war, you would have been executed shortly after your crime was committed. In times such as these, the punishment might, might, be commuted to a lifetime in prison. The crime your peers have accused you of is a very serious offense. One I should have dealt with as soon as it was reported.”

A sudden pang of worry pierced Thami’s chest. Executed? Life in prison? Just because he had sand in his eyes? Thami bit his lip to reset himself. “Should I assume then, sir, that latrine duty is not my only punishment?”

Zahir closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m afraid that would be a correct assumption. I have spent the day looking for a way to make this right. A way that will appease the other soldiers while giving you a way to redeem yourself.”

Thami raised his eyebrows. Redeem myself? Everything he thought he knew was suddenly spun upside down. Was Commander Zahir trying to be helpful? “I don’t understand, sir,” Thami mumbled.

“In truth, Thami, if you were someone else, you would have been disciplined long ago. But your father, may he be at peace with the Maker, was a great man and a dear friend. A friend who helped me more times than I can count. I owe it to him to look out for you. And I have tried. But by not putting out the sparks of your insolence, I’ve allowed your misdeeds to grow into a wildfire of misconduct. And now the others are bent on putting you in your place. I find myself in an untenable situation of my own making.”

Thami looked down. “W-what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to believe that somewhere deep inside you, your father’s spirit lives on. I’m going to offer you an assignment only a hero would accept. And if you succeed, your crimes will be forgiven.”

“And if I don’t accept?”

“You will spend the rest of your days rotting in the cellars of the Royal Kasbah.”

Thami sucked in his lip, dreading to ask the question he knew he had to ask. “What is this assignment, sir?”

***

Hi there!

Thanks for taking the time to check out The Lost Treasure of the Forsaken. This story is meant to introduce readers the world of my epic fantasy series called The Grandmaster's Son and all the stories that are told in that world. I hope you enjoy the adventure. If so, please consider giving this chapter a ❤︎.

So, what do you think about Thami and his situation? Is he being mistreated by everyone? Getting the punishment he deserves? Or does he deserve something worse? Please let me know what you think!

Best wishes,

Will