Desert World Allegiances by Lyn Gala

burned, deep inside. Cardan was a good man. He’d helped Temar and Cyla replace a fallen fence and had undercharged them by quite a lot. No way would he go along with water thievery. Temar glanced over at Ben Gratu. Maybe. Temar was starting to suspect that he wasn’t a particularly good judge of character.
    “God’s luck, but I did pick up an interesting purchase this morning,” Ben said in a friendly tone as he got out of the sled. Cardan, however, was looking at Temar with a frown, and Temar could feel his face heat. Sometimes he hated being so different, and this was one of those times. With his fair skin, he knew his blush would be turning his face bright red.
    “You bought his slave papers?” Cardan asked. His voice was cautious, but Ben just pulled Temar’s box of test results out of the back and then stacked a load of purchased goods on top of that.
    “I thought I was getting the even-tempered Gazer,” Ben said with a dismissive snort that suggested he’d been wrong. He sighed and stood up and looked at Temar with great sorrow. “I know your father has told you these lies, boy, and I understand how hard this is. If I open this door, are you going to kick?” The false sympathy and the suggestion that Temar was some sort of wildcat made Temar blush harder. He closed his eyes tightly and focused on breathing for a second.
    “He give you trouble?”
    “None that I couldn’t handle,” Ben said, his voice clearly suggesting that yes, Temar had given him quite a lot of trouble. He reached through the open window and patted Temar on the arm. “I know it’s hard, boy. You’re stronger than you think you are, though.” After that bit of unctuous advice, Ben shook his head and turned to his worker. “He’s a teenage boy, and he’s had a lifetime of his father telling him how everyone else is out to get them. Between his father’s paranoia and his sister’s quick temper, I’m surprised the boy has the common sense he’s managed to show, up until now. He’ll settle in as soon as he calms down.”
    Cardan leaned on the front of the sled and looked through the glass at Temar. “I always thought the boy had inherited all the common sense in that family.”
    “After hearing him go on about Landholder Young, I can safely tell you that he inherited all the foul language, that’s for sure. If Young hears half the accusations this pup is spewing, he’s going to demand a few labor days, at the very least. I would just as soon we keep George away from our young fool, at least until he grows up and learns to control his mouth.” The suggestion that Ben was trying to protect him made the tears press up in Temar’s eyes again. He’d been such an idiot for thinking that Ben would want to help. He’d been such an idiot for thinking that anyone would go out of their way to help him.
    “George has the sense of humor of a pipe trap plant.”
    “That’s an insult to pipe trap plants,” Ben countered. “Can you escort him up to the house? Watch out, because he’s one to kick and bite at the most unexpected moment, and the first day of a ten-year slave sentence would test the common sense of anyone, even without the Gazer family temper.”
    Temar sat through the exchange with his face hot and his guts twisting. “No worries. If I can work with that bad-tempered boar of yours without getting gored, I can handle one wisp of a boy.” Ben turned away and picked up the box from the dusty ground. When Cardan opened the sled door to release the restraints, Temar tried staring desperately at the box. If the box went into the fire, he had nothing, no chance. He needed to get someone to look at his papers before the council could sell his sister to Ben Gratu’s friend. He needed Cardan to notice that box
    Without fighting the tight grip, he stared first at Cardan and then the box in Ben’s hands and then back to Cardan. He’d give twenty years off his life in exchange for five minutes of telepathy. Unfortunately,