The white expanse of the desert undulated in an endless sea, shimmering silver and gold with the first rays of dawn. It reminded Jirom of the grass fields of the Zaral, which also seemed to run without end, framed only by the bowl of the boundless sky. He sat atop a pile of boulders, holding the kapikul's sword across his lap.

The rebels had marched most of the night to reach this place, which Emanon called “a safe harbor.” A small cave mouth led down to a hollow den beneath the boulders. Jirom had tried to lie down inside, but it had been too much like a tomb, and so he came out for some air while the grateful sentry left on guard duty retired inside.

As he watched the sun come up, Jirom wondered about the things beyond his sight. He wondered about the men he'd lost at Omikur, whether they'd be buried with funeral rites or be left to the jackals. He wondered about the defenders and how many of them had died in that hellhole. Mostly he wondered about a man still back in the queen's city.

I swore I would get him out, but now I'm farther away than ever and getting farther with every step I take.

He heard the footsteps before he saw Emanon's head pop up from the cave. The captain climbed up beside him on the rocks. Jirom could feel the warmth of the man's arm against his own. Emanon smelled of sweat and leather, and the new beard accentuated his devilish good looks. Jirom was tempted to speak first, to say something witty or ironic, but he held his peace. Silence had always worked best for him when it came to men.

“I thought I'd find you out here.” Emanon gestured to the rising sun. “It's pretty, eh?”

Jirom gazed at the sky. He'd spent the past couple hours thinking about what to say to this man, but now he was unsure how to begin.

Emanon gestured to the assurana sword. “That's blood-steel, a mixture of zoahadin and red gold. There's only a handful of smiths in all the empire who know that recipe. That blade is worth a small kingdom.”

Jirom looked him in the eye. “So what happened to your secret army?”

“They're out there.” Emanon turned to survey the barren landscape. “Waiting for the next phase.”

“And what's that? Or is that a secret?”

Emanon turned to face him. “I think you already know.”

“I suspect I do. The queen's legions were bloodied, but not crushed. Isn't that right? And there will be more dog-soldiers to replace us. So what's left but to hide out here?”

“You think we're running,” Emanon said.

“Aren't you?”

“There's more than sand and scorpions out here, Jirom. The desert is freedom. The desert is shelter from our enemies.”

“A lot of men die in the desert.”

“Aye. That they do, but others grow stronger. Like a certain former gladiator I know. We'll stay here and gather our strength, and then go out to find some friends.”

“Why not just go?” Jirom pointed to the far horizon. “Leave Akeshia for good. You're free.”

“Because Omikur wasn't the end, Jirom. It was the beginning. All across the empire, slaves are gathering in secret. Waiting for a sign. We will be that beacon, calling them to throw off their iron chains and reclaim their liberty.”

Jirom looked out over the rolling sands and imagined how many graves were hidden under the shimmering facade. “I have to go back to Erugash.”

Emanon spat over the side of the boulder and shifted his sheathed sword. “You really want to die that badly? You may as well dig yourself a hole right here and let the desert swallow you up. It'd be a lot less painful.”

“I can't abandon Horace. From what little we've heard…”

“Aye. It sounds like Her Fucking Majesty has her claws sunk into him deep. You know, he's probably already dead, too.”

“Mayhap. But I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to help him.”

“Jirom, why is this man so important to you? Is he…? Dammit!”

Before Jirom could react, Emanon's lips were pressed against his mouth. He remained still at first, not trusting his feelings after a lifetime of pain and disappointment. Now they rushed back to him like an ocean of longing, all the fiercer for having been denied for so long. He opened his mouth and wrapped his arms around Emanon's broad shoulders.

When they parted, the breath rushed from Jirom's lips like a sigh. He braced himself for another rejection, but there was only softness in Emanon's eyes and something else he had rarely seen. Understanding.

“I'm sorry if that was sudden,” Emanon said. “But I couldn't let you leave without telling you…or showing you…how I felt. Do you love him?”

Jirom almost laughed to hear the jealousy in his voice. “No. We went through a lot together. You understand what that does.”

“Stay with us. We'll get your friend out. I haven't forgotten my promise.”

“When?”

“The time will come, and we'll be there to make it happen. But going back alone is crazy. I don't care how good-looking you are, our former masters don't have a sense of humor when it comes to escaped slaves.”

“I have to try.”

“All right.” Emanon started to get up. “Then I'm going with you.”

Jirom put a hand on the captain's forearm. “No. You have an army to lead. These people are relying on you.”

“And I need your help for that to succeed. I didn't get these men out by myself. You're a big part of this operation, Jirom. I can't do it without you.”

Jirom sighed. He didn't want to leave, especially now with the way Emanon was looking at him. “You promise you'll make every effort to free Horace?”

Emanon tapped his chest over his heart. “I swear it.”

Jirom held out his hand, and they shook. The captain's grip was firm and comforting. “Then if I'm staying,” Jirom said, “I have a few ideas.”

Emanon's smile faded. “Ideas? Like what?”

“Like some changes that need to be made around here. Starting with unit discipline. These men are too soft.”

“Too soft? They survived the training camp, didn't they?”

“Surviving isn't enough.” Jirom held Emanon's gaze for a moment, and then they both laughed.

“Come inside,” the captain said. “I'll show you what I'm planning. There's an old spice road that runs through the desert. If we follow that to…”

Jirom half-listened as he followed Emanon down to the cave entrance. He looked again to the east. The rising sun burned like a ball of fire over the desert. Was this the right choice? He didn't know, but it felt right.

Swallowing his apprehension, he ducked into the dark confines of the hideout.