Fig Moon held the land in its fiery embrace. The five moons had passed, so from now on, Turgan would have to watch for symptoms. He checked his skin tone - still a healthy tan. He tested his strength on the shaduf - he could still operate it with a single hand.
He had to plan what he would do once the signs of decay set in. He had intended to stab the knife into his ear. That was no longer an option - not just because the Darrians had taken his knife, but because he had Laina to think of.
Laina was safe from advances only because Darrians respected marriage. As a widow, she would be acceptable prey and helpless against Kurush's force.
Instead of killing himself where his body would be found, Turgan would have to find a way to absent himself from Ain-Elnour, and not return.
But achieving that would be tricky. Turgan massaged his aching neck, pondering. Locals were not allowed to leave the town, except for plantation labour under the watchful eye of ... what was his name? ... the Darrian man with the whip.
With luck, the war would be over soon. The Darrians had as good as won, and the Koskaran surrender was imminent. Then the travel restrictions would lift and Turgan could disappear.
Genre – Horror
Rating – PG-13
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