then.” Ben reached up and fingered a lock of Temar’s hair, stroking it with his thumb. After a second, he gave that same lock such a hard yank that Temar gasped. “I asked you to guess, boy.” Suddenly he didn’t sound as friendly.
At first, Temar was too afraid to guess anything. He wanted Ben to tell him what to do so he knew how to navigate this shifting sand he’d found himself walking. He felt as if, any second, the winds would change, and the dune would move under him, and he’d be buried under two tons of sand. However, his mind spun an answer out of Ben’s words.
“You want me to prove how unreliable I am.” He whispered the answer.
He’d hated giving answers in school because he’d hated having everyone look at him. They looked at him and whispered about his father or about how Cyla had gotten in trouble again or about how he came to school in clothes that were too large because he had to take whatever handouts others would give him. And as the terraforming ships grew rarer, the number of handouts others had been willing to offer had dwindled. He didn’t want anyone to notice any of that. Even when he’d had the right answer, he had preferred to remain in the back, unnoticed and uncommented on.
Now Ben was asking him to make himself the center of a scene, like his father when he was so drunk that he flung accusations as easily as clods of dirt.
Ben rested his palm against Temar’s cheek and stroked his thumb over the corner of his mouth, where it was still sore. “Good boy. I’ll never trust you until you show me you can earn that trust by doing what your master says. My friend wants to kill your sister, so you know that I’m the only one standing between the Gazer family and death.” Ben’s expression softened with worry. “Your father was a good man before your mother died so young, and I’ve wanted to do something to help you. I just always worried about drawing attention to myself. But now, I can help you. I can protect your sister, and I can make sure that these next ten years are easy for you. But you have to show me that you know how to appreciate my protection.” Ben’s hand paused, and he brought his other hand up, so that he cupped Temar’s face. Temar held himself perfectly still. He didn’t know the rules to this game, but he knew he had no power in it.
“I think you want to scream and rant and accuse George Young of stealing your water and setting you up and ruining your farm. Hell, you can throw in something truly outlandish, like a suggestion that he killed your mother. What am I going to do?”
Temar’s gaze darted to the table where the clump of damp cloth lay. “You’ll gag me.”
“That I will. After all, as your owner, it is my job to teach you control, and I would never allow you to publicly slander George. That would give George the right to demand days of labor from you, and everyone knows that I’m too good of a man to want George near you or your sister. That man values land and money and wringing fourteen hours of labor out of a twelve hour day. I wouldn’t give him the right to overwork my young Temar. So, what will the others think of me for gagging you?”
“That you’re protecting me.” Temar choked on the words, but he could see the twisted logic of them.
“And what will they think of you?”
Temar closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his guts knotted at the idea of all those men staring at him, judging him. “They’ll think I’m mad. The council will strip me of adult rights.” His chest ached with fear.
“I doubt they’d go that far.” Ben patted both his cheeks and laughed. “No, I’ll be sure to protect you. I’ll explain how your father’s words have poisoned you. I will take care of you, Temar. You only have to obey. You can do that, right?”
Ben took his hands away, and Temar’s warm cheeks suddenly felt cold. He looked up as Ben took a step back. “Will you follow orders?” Ben asked.
Temar’s mind darted
At first, Temar was too afraid to guess anything. He wanted Ben to tell him what to do so he knew how to navigate this shifting sand he’d found himself walking. He felt as if, any second, the winds would change, and the dune would move under him, and he’d be buried under two tons of sand. However, his mind spun an answer out of Ben’s words.
“You want me to prove how unreliable I am.” He whispered the answer.
He’d hated giving answers in school because he’d hated having everyone look at him. They looked at him and whispered about his father or about how Cyla had gotten in trouble again or about how he came to school in clothes that were too large because he had to take whatever handouts others would give him. And as the terraforming ships grew rarer, the number of handouts others had been willing to offer had dwindled. He didn’t want anyone to notice any of that. Even when he’d had the right answer, he had preferred to remain in the back, unnoticed and uncommented on.
Now Ben was asking him to make himself the center of a scene, like his father when he was so drunk that he flung accusations as easily as clods of dirt.
Ben rested his palm against Temar’s cheek and stroked his thumb over the corner of his mouth, where it was still sore. “Good boy. I’ll never trust you until you show me you can earn that trust by doing what your master says. My friend wants to kill your sister, so you know that I’m the only one standing between the Gazer family and death.” Ben’s expression softened with worry. “Your father was a good man before your mother died so young, and I’ve wanted to do something to help you. I just always worried about drawing attention to myself. But now, I can help you. I can protect your sister, and I can make sure that these next ten years are easy for you. But you have to show me that you know how to appreciate my protection.” Ben’s hand paused, and he brought his other hand up, so that he cupped Temar’s face. Temar held himself perfectly still. He didn’t know the rules to this game, but he knew he had no power in it.
“I think you want to scream and rant and accuse George Young of stealing your water and setting you up and ruining your farm. Hell, you can throw in something truly outlandish, like a suggestion that he killed your mother. What am I going to do?”
Temar’s gaze darted to the table where the clump of damp cloth lay. “You’ll gag me.”
“That I will. After all, as your owner, it is my job to teach you control, and I would never allow you to publicly slander George. That would give George the right to demand days of labor from you, and everyone knows that I’m too good of a man to want George near you or your sister. That man values land and money and wringing fourteen hours of labor out of a twelve hour day. I wouldn’t give him the right to overwork my young Temar. So, what will the others think of me for gagging you?”
“That you’re protecting me.” Temar choked on the words, but he could see the twisted logic of them.
“And what will they think of you?”
Temar closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his guts knotted at the idea of all those men staring at him, judging him. “They’ll think I’m mad. The council will strip me of adult rights.” His chest ached with fear.
“I doubt they’d go that far.” Ben patted both his cheeks and laughed. “No, I’ll be sure to protect you. I’ll explain how your father’s words have poisoned you. I will take care of you, Temar. You only have to obey. You can do that, right?”
Ben took his hands away, and Temar’s warm cheeks suddenly felt cold. He looked up as Ben took a step back. “Will you follow orders?” Ben asked.
Temar’s mind darted
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