In the relentless heat of the desert, life can often be difficult and brief. The sun bakes the dirt until it cracks, wind and sand find any obstruction there is and polish it smooth. What green life exists tends to be dry and sparse, pulling in all moisture possible just to produce one or two stunning flowers. This green life supported insects and lizards and mice, who in turn supported bigger lizards and birds, and the chain continued on, ruling over the natural world with no room for deviation.

Nestled among the rocks and barren plains, those at the very top of nature’s chain did what they could to fight against the natural order that said they should wither and die in such a forsaken place. Humans had come together to build shelters, gardens, families, life. Their settlements slowly developed as their culture did, sustaining an ever-growing population of hungry mouths and inventive minds. Each settlement and town sparkled like an oasis on the horizon. And the most beautiful of these glistening gems was the capital city, the home of the King.

In his kingdom, King Re was seen as an undisputed god. His father, the previous king, had been a glorious war hero and a brilliant strategist. Under his reign the kingdom had both grown and stabilized into a mighty power. Now King Re continued his father’s work, pushing the borders further and further out. He was not the unstoppable force the last king had been, but he was no less successful. Every year there were more workers for the fields and more resources to be mined, more devout converts and loyal worshipers, more indifferent citizens, and more that were forced to crime. Or who chose it willingly.

The King’s eldest son, also called Re and unquestionably divine, was tasked with many duties to strengthen his kingdom. Despite his usual disdain and lack of interest, one of those duties was to preside over sentencing of the criminals of the land. The prince sprawled in his seat of honor, head resting upon one pale hand, lazily propped on the arm of the gilded throne. His eyes scanned the grand chamber and the line of criminals and guards, but he barely noted their presence. His gaze settled instead on the young musician girl beside him. She gave him her usual smile and bowed her head, immediately lifting her flute and beginning to play for the prince.

Not far in front of the royal, the official that was in charge of these proceedings slowly fell silent. He looked to the musician, then back to his prince and hesitantly objected. “Y-your highness? You need to hear . . .” He trailed to a stop again, frozen as the prince’s annoyed gaze focused on him.

The prince lifted his head, freeing that hand to hold up to the girl, who obediently stopped her playing at once. Bored golden-brown eyes watched the official for another moment before they shifted back to the musician. It wasn’t really true, his presence here was no more than a formality. The prisoners had all been tried and condemned, the official was only announcing what punishment had been decided. This was a chance for the prince to intervene, to transmute the sentence if he wished. The prisoners had a chance to beg for redemption, and in theory he had to pay attention to hear their pleas.

The prince said nothing and the musician nervously glanced at the official and then back. She bowed her head to oblige her prince and began to play again, but she chose a quiet lullaby that would not drown out the words. The official swallowed and licked his lips, turning back to the scribe at his side. The younger man read him the notes and the official proclaimed the prisoner’s crime and sentence. In this case, the condemned man stood quietly, staring guiltily at the floor. He didn’t argue or beg and Prince Re saw no reason to intervene. The man was sentenced to hard labor for his crimes, sent to the quarry to work for his king.

The man was led away and another took his place. This criminal was scowling at the prince, flanked by two guards instead of just one. This meant he was considered a dangerous man and as his crimes against the crown were announced the man spat towards Re. One guard immediately brought a meaty hand down on the man’s head for such insolence and the criminal sagged weakly in their grip, dazed for a few moments. He was sentenced to death and Re stared at him impassively as he was dragged off.

The prince settled his chin onto his curled fist again, bright red hair spilling down to pool against the golden armrest. He continued to watch, not bothering to stifle a yawn as a woman was brought to the front of the line. This woman begged, she pleaded for her life. “There must be something I could do,” she said with a blatantly suggestive tone to her voice.

“This whore,” the official said with a stress on the derogative, “was caught plying her trade in the market. She is sentenced to work in the fields-“

“I will die out there!” the woman wailed. Prince Re’s eyes narrowed slightly, cringing back from her plaintive scream. “Your highness, my lord, please! I can do anything you want, anything for you, my prince.” She smiled again, that same seductive look that she used to draw men off the streets.

“She is sentenced to three years in the fields,” the official said, finishing the decree in a clearly disapproving tone.

The woman continued to beg, voice achieving a much higher, shriller pitch as the guard beside her began to pull her away. Prince Re lifted his head again, holding his hand up as a sign to stop. The guard froze and Re considered the woman for a moment. She was not bad looking, she probably made a decent living on the streets, but she was indeed rather frail. “Take her to be cleaned and given to the harem,” Re decided and settled back in his throne again.

The woman brightened at once, proclaiming her thanks as loudly as she had begged. “I will be honored to serve you, my prince. You will not regret this choice.”

Re was still watching her but his expression darkened into a scowl. “It is the king you must impress if you wish to stay.”

The woman’s eyes widened and her smile grew. “The king,” she whispered to herself as her expression turned rather scheming. She didn’t even look at Prince Re again, thoughts of royal interest becoming ever loftier as she was led away.

Re could feel his lips pull down in a much angrier frown. “Be sure to clean her well.”

Somewhere in the room, a voice sighed in disapproval.

Re’s eyes shifted, looking for the source of the noise. This chamber was large, but it was very plain, little more than an empty room. Criminals were lined up in the space and brought before the prince for this official sentencing – he was ignoring the woman in front of him now, angry and grumbling curses under her breath. A few of the men and women hung limp in the grips of guards, rendered unconscious for one indiscretion or another. Others were grumbling angrily or crying quietly or watching the prince in silent terror as their own sentence drew ever nearer. Re could see nothing unusual at all. Rather reluctantly, he turned his attention back to the official and his incessant prattling.

A few more prisoners were sentenced and led away to no reaction from the prince. He was still facing the proceedings, but his attention was more on the sweet flute music and the lullaby was slowly putting him to sleep. A young boy was brought forward, a thief, sentenced to hard labor in the mines where such small bodies were valuable to squirm through the smallest gaps. He was crying and looked up at the prince, but didn’t speak. Re frowned and lifted a hand to stop the guard. “What did you steal?” Re asked without moving from his place.

The boy swallowed, a bit of hope sparking in his eyes. “Food,” he said plainly. “Bread for my family.”

“This boy is an orphan,” the official protested with a sneer. “He has no family.”

“For the people I stay with!” the boy insisted. “They’re my family.”

The official rolled his eyes and turned to confer with his scribe. After a moment he turned to Re again and bowed. “He has no family listed in the records, but he was taken from the home of an unrelated family with another boy his age.”

“They’re my family and we’re starving,” the boy pleaded through his tears.

“The kitchens were saying they are in need of another boy,” the official suggested quietly.

Re was quiet for another moment before shaking his head. “Send him to the farms.”

Under his gaze, the boy’s expression crumbled as hope of a comfortable sentence in the palace was utterly dashed. Somewhere in the room, out of the prince’s sight, a voice scoffed with disdain.

The prince lifted his eyes to scan the room again. He held a hand to the musician girl and she stopped her playing at once. Re’s eyes raked over the prisoners, studying the filth of his city. They were the same ragged types that usually made up the line of prisoners, nothing terribly strange catching his eye. His attention was pulled back, forced to the young girl in front of him. She was wailing like a child even younger than her seven or eight years as she begged for mercy from her prince.

Re had missed the girl’s crime and he focused his gaze on the official until he repeated that she was another thief. “I stole bread for my family!” the girl cried without prompting and pleaded for mercy, tears rolling down her cheeks. The prince regarded her for another moment before he glanced at the official again and shook his head slightly.

“You bastard!” the girls shrieked, her attitude flipping completely. “Son of an ally dog, you are a cruel and terrible man. A beast! You will rot in the hell of the desert for all your life!” Beside her, the guard assigned to this child simply picked her up, heedless of her flailing limbs as he carried her off.

The prince sighed and settled back, ignoring the foul-mouthed girl. He ignored the next several prisoners as well, but there was one man that did catch his eye. Prince Re, touched by the gods, was an oddity in the kingdom with porcelain pale skin and bright red hair that trailed past his shoulders. The man he found himself watching was more typical of the lands with shorter dark hair. His almond-colored skin was still lighter than most citizens, a sign this man spent his life out of the sun. He was small and thin, completely dwarfed by the guards that stood on either side of him.

He was flanked by two guards, which meant he was considered dangerous. But most others in this position were unconscious or still fighting, held in place by the guards’ solid grips. As the line progressed, Re watched this prisoner move without prompting, stepping forward as the space cleared. When one guard did reach for the man’s shoulder, he roughly pulled away, scowling at the man and saying something Prince Re could not hear. The guard’s response was to shove him forward again, but the prisoner caught his balance without more comment.

The line continued to move and the prisoner near the back stepped forward again without prompting. This time his foot caught on an uneven bit of the floor and the man gasped as he went tipping forward. The other guard caught him by the arm and helped him stay on his feet. Re watched the man turn to him and bow his head; it looked like he apologized and thanked the man. But the guard didn’t release him and only a second later, the prisoner angrily pulled from his grip again.

Interesting, the prince thought. Mild, but clearly willing to fight. Docile, but defiant. He sensed a game in this criminal, something far more interesting than the tedium of these official proceedings. Re looked over the line, measuring the dozen prisoners waiting before the prince would see this criminal. Too long to wait, the redhead decided as he straightened in his chair.

“You,” Re said sharply, his authoritative voice cutting through the murmurs and complaints and making the official stutter silent again. The man looked to his prince and then turned to see where his attention was focused. The criminal was watching him as well, his own eyes widening to find himself under the prince’s scrutiny. Then the guards were moving, grabbing the man’s arms and dragging him to the front of the line to stand before the prince.

The official was frantically searching with his scribe, flipping through notes until they found the record of this man’s crimes. Meanwhile Prince Re took the time to study this interesting man. He still stood calmly, straight and only bound by the iron shackles on his wrists. The baggy, nondescript prisoner’s tunic hid the details of the man’s body, but he held his hands in front of his stomach, unconsciously trying to hide some flaw that couldn’t actually be seen. His dark brown hair fell nearly to his shoulders and hung down in front of his eyes.

He was only several paces away now and Prince Re could see those eyes for the first time. And the more he looked, the more interested the prince became. There was something wrong with the man’s eyes, but it was difficult to see what it was. Prince Re stood, moving forward to inspect the prisoner more closely. Instantly every guard in the room took a knee, dragging the prisoners down with them. The official and his scribe both bowed deeply, but the deference was only annoying at the moment. “Stand,” Prince Re demanded as he stepped up to the criminal.

The guards stood and the man was allowed to regain his feet, though they did not release his arms. The criminal was frowning as he looked at the prince, but then he lowered his gaze again without complaint. There was something wrong with his eyes, the skin around them blotchy and pale, with a small speckling of scar tissue spread throughout. The prince reached out, taking hold of the man’s chin with his thumb and forefinger and raising his gaze again. The criminal gasped slightly and stiffened, eyes widening a bit as they focused on the other’s face. They were strange eyes, brown and pale in a way that looked completely unnatural. Re wondered what had damaged them, but he was clearly still able to see. “And what is your crime?” he asked without releasing the other man.

The official stepped forward again, bowing slightly to speak to his prince. “This man has killed more than a dozen of your citizens, Sire. He killed a city guard and an inspector and injured several . . . other . . .”

The man trailed into silence as the prince held up a hand in his face to make him stop. The prince was still watching the criminal, however, his other hand still holding him by the chin. “I believe I asked him. I’m certain his story will be much more interesting.”

One fine red eyebrow raised, the prince waiting silently for a response. The man in his grip swallowed once, but his surprise was fading and after only a slight pause he said, “I was protecting my wife.”

“She was killed by one of the victims,” the official provided, bowing low again before he continued. “But he went on a rampage, more than a dozen killed, including a city . . .”

Re released the criminal to turn fully on the official. The older man looked up at him and cringed back in fear. “I told you to be quiet,” Re said to him darkly. “Disobey me again and I’ll have your tongue.” The official ground his teeth together, bowing even lower as he quickly retreated a few steps to stand beside his scribe again.

The criminal let out a short, very disapproving huff and Re’s eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was cast down again, showing deference to his prince, but his lips were pursed in annoyance. The prince felt a smile pull at his own lips. He sensed real fun from this man and asked, “What were you protecting her from?”

For another long minute the man was silent, finally answering in a quiet, measured tone. “Not all of your citizens are as upstanding as some would have you believe.”

Re caught the man’s chin again, forcing his gaze up. He would need to find out the actual details of this man’s crimes, but that could come later, after he’d finished here. “And you believe one life was worth more than a dozen?” The prince asked, a smile still on his lips.

The criminal’s own look darkened, glaring with those strangely pale eyes. “Yes,” he growled at the prince. “She was. They’ve also killed others.”

Yes, Re thought as his smile grew. There was definitely a game here to enjoy. He pulled back again, turning to regard the official. “I want this criminal cleaned and brought to my chambers. I will deal with him personally.” He could hear a gasp from the man, but didn’t even look as he turned to leave, his musician hurrying to follow. Behind him the official stuttered a couple of times and even reached for the prince, but he didn’t call to the redhead. He had other things to attend to now, leading the rest of the prisoners back to their cells, some for the second time, to wait until the prince’s interest and time could be garnered once again.

-o-o-o-o-o-