his voice dry and husky. His hand had grown cool, the pain nearly gone. Beside him lay the evidence that someone had lanced the sting again. He smiled at the man-from his light, short-cropped hair and dark skin, obviously a slave-and took another long drink. "Thank you. You have saved my life. What is your name?"
The Neffian smiled back. "I am called Doulos."
"Doulos, I am Javin. My other name is Argivian," he hedged. "You are a slave?"
Doulos lowered his eyes from habit. "Yes. Muje, I have run. Please do not send me back. If I go back, my master will kill me."
"I would not take you back, Doulos. Tell me-did you follow me from the city, or take up my trail even before?" Javin smiled.
"I watched you with the woman at the surgery. I came behind you from there," Doulos admitted.
"Why?" said Javin.
Doulos looked at him and laughed, great puzzlement in his voice.
"Because, Muje-you are the true king of Sumifa, and all of Almaaz."
odd guests, moved across the erg slowly for the rest of the day, and for three more days, Yob and his men seemingly oblivious to the heat. When Cheyne demanded they stop to rest in the shadow of a huge rock, hewn, so said Og, into the likeness of Rotapan, they grumbled until Og sang Yob's song again. The humans slept and ate, Yob demanded the song yet again, with Og wearily obliging, but also causing some of the rock to peel away from Rotapan's majestic brow and come crashing down on one of them. Og made a new verse of it and the others applauded obliviously. By the time the song was over, they had forgotten who had been killed.
Soon after, they were moving again. Cheyne was beginning to develop some respect for the ore leader, despite himself. Yob halted the group on several occasions, sniffing the air, pointing to a stretch of sand, and then promptly directing them around it.
"What's he doing?" Cheyne asked Og after the second time of having to add two or three miles to their path.
"Sandmire. Dry quicksand. He can tell somehow.