Free The City of Pillars by Joshua P. Simon

have the time for that.”
    “Maybe you should start doing something ahead of time then. At least—”
    “Another time,” cut in Rondel.
    Andrasta grunted. “Sure. You want to help with these bodies? We keep them here, they’ll spoil the water in the pool.”
    “Yeah.”
    Shadya’s grip on him tightened as he tried to stand.
    He swallowed. “It’s all right. No one else is in the area.”
    “I’m still frightened.”
    “I’ll be nearby. If you need me, just call out.”
    Her face brightened into a soft smile. “I will.”
    Rondel ignored a surprising urge to lean forward and kiss Shadya’s soft lips. The sounds of Andrasta dragging a body helped him focus. He pried himself away and grabbed the remaining body.
    Shadya began drawing fresh clothes from her pack. He tried not to linger on the wet material clinging her frame. He quickly hauled his load away.
    Get a hold of yourself. Any interest you’re picking up from Shadya is likely due to her fear. It’ll be gone by the morning.
    “When she’s done with the pool, I think you should go next.”
    Rondel looked over his shoulder. Andrasta set the guard next to the three men she had killed. Blood seeped into the sand.
    He dumped the body beside them. “Why?”
    “A dip in some cold water might clear your head.”
    “I already told you that you were being ridiculous.”
    “I know what you told me. Is your hand all right?” she asked, gesturing to his blood covered thumb.
    Rondel explained the details of his fight.
    “A pretty dirty move.” She slapped him on the shoulder before searching the things strapped to the dead mens’ mounts. “Forget being a lover. We might make a fighter out of you yet.”
     

CHAPTER 7
    A rare wisp of wind skittered across the desert. Melek watched the swirling sand dance atop a nearby dune, changing directions twice before settling back over the sea of orange and yellow grains.
    He had watched such dances at least a thousand times in his life, yet he never grew tired of them. It reminded him that even in a harsh landscape like the deserts of Erba, beauty and joy could still be found.
    And even in the harsh life of Hubul’s Host I can find joy too.
    He hated knowing that he had to repeat such things to himself.
    As captain, his frame of mind had to be solid, free of doubt. It was usually, but at times when he thought about all that he’d given up to serve Hubul, he grew troubled. True, he had forged friendships that many in the world would envy, but his role in the Host also meant that he could never settle down or fall in love. He could never have a family because nothing could stand in the way of his commitment to his god.
    However, if he fulfilled his oath and finally completed the mission that his predecessors had failed, he would be free to choose a new life. One that he secretly longed for.
    One that doesn’t involve so much death.
    Melek bowed his head and began to pray. He prayed to Hubul for strength, clarity of mind, wisdom, and success. He also prayed for forgiveness, hoping his selfish thoughts would not offend the father of the gods.
    Some time later, his young legs stiff from prostrating himself on the warm sand, he rose. He turned, startled to see Khalil waiting for him.
    “My apologies, Captain. I did not wish to disturb your prayers.”
    Melek relaxed. “No trouble.”
    “The men have completed their forms for the day and are eager to begin sparring in the circle.”
    Melek started walking. “You could have begun without me.”
    Khalil stepped in beside him. “I suggested as much, but Omar wouldn’t have it.”
    “I’m not surprised” What does he have planned this time?
    They returned to camp to find the men waiting anxiously to begin, fidgeting and bouncing in place around the manmade practice circle. Melek sensed this and wasted no time in calling for the first match.
    The sparring started with those of lower rank and skill, men with a quarter moon or less adorning their upper sleeves. As each