Desert World Allegiances Read Online Free PDF Page A

townie, he would know her name, but he only knew those he had schooled with. Like Tith Starson, who leaned against a parked sled and watched him. Temar could feel his face heat, and not from Livre’s sun.
    Naite pulled open the door to the council building, and their feet tracked sand inside. With his eyes on the floor, Temar couldn’t see much, but that was a blessing. He didn’t want to see the condemnation or the pity. In fact, all he wanted was the answer to one question.
    “Cyla?” Temar whispered his sister’s name. Naite hesitated and raised his hand that held the leash. Temar tracked the movement as Naite’s hand stopped just short of his arm. He watched the loop of the rope between his bound hands and Naite’s fist. Oh gods. Don’t let them have exiled her, he prayed. He tried very hard not to think about his sister’s body lying in the sand with the sandrats and wind pulling flesh from her bones.
    “No one may know a judgment that hasn’t been given,” Naite said. He pulled his hand away and dropped it.
    “For God’s mercy, Naite, you could at least reassure the boy.”
    “Shan.” Lilian Freeland’s voice rose above the two Polli brothers’. Temar closed his eyes and struggled to breathe. They were going to exile them. His legs turned so weak that, had his knees not been locked, he would have fallen to the ground.
    “Young Temar, your sister will get no worse punishment than you.” Lilian stepped up in front of him, and Temar studied her feet and the worn cuffs on her jeans. His father had always spoken so highly of Landholder Freeland, of her ability to run a farm and command respect and ride a tractor through a sandstorm. She’d risked her health with no fewer than seven children on a world where water and medicine were both far too rare, and she was like a sandrat that kept living, no matter the odds against it. However, he suspected her opinion of him was not as high.
    Bracing himself for the certain death sentence they were about to pronounce, Temar raised his chin and tried to find some lingering wisps of dignity. He’d fall on the floor and beg if it would help, but they had already voted, and his begging wouldn’t improve matters now. Lilian looked him in the eye, and Temar felt a warm tear roll over his cool cheek.
    “Your crime is too serious to ignore. We have decided that you are responsible for 800 square rods of seedlings being ruined, the loss of two tanks of water, and a measure tap being damaged.” When she lined up all his crimes so neatly, Temar felt nauseous. It was half a lifetime’s wealth that he had destroyed in one night.
    “You are sentenced to slavery for no less than ten years, unless, in the testimony of your master and the determination of this council, your service is so exemplary or substandard to warrant amending your sentence.”
    For a second, Temar thought he had heard wrong. They were enslaving him and not exiling him. True, he had never even heard of a slave being sentenced to ten years, but it wasn’t death. It was a hope for life and for eventually regaining his freedom. Temar was so surprised that he swayed, as if the emotional blow had physically knocked him off balance. Bringing his hands up, he had to catch himself on Naite’s arm.
    Naite’s hand came up under his elbow and steadied him. This time, the tears that slipped out of Temar were of relief instead of fear. He wasn’t going to face exile, and since Lilian had promised him that his sister’s punishment wouldn’t be worse than his, that meant she was going to be safe too. A month ago, he would have railed against ever being enslaved, but right now, it felt like a great stroke of luck.
    Not all of the faces in the room looked particularly happy, though. Dee’eta Sun, a woman with shoulders almost as wide as Worker Naite’s and a white streak in her black hair, watched him with a guarded expression. Any chance he’d ever had to be an artisan was gone. By the time he’d earned his