By Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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Sample text
How many men have you ever known that could inspire, and desrved, such loyalty? " Shalu asked quietly, his gaze steady on Chase Montyne. "It can't be," Chase breathed, shock turning his pallid blond coloring even whiter. Paegan Hesar, having guessed the prisoner's identity, shook his head. " Grice slammed his hand against the wall. "I know I'm just as smart as the rest of you, but I'll be damned if I know who you're babbling about! " "Our sister could," Chand answered, tears flowing down his sunken cheeks.
Sometimes I just want to slap him as hard as I can. " Jah-Ma-El looked up at the tall, rubber-faced man. " Thom flung himself down on his bunk. " Hern bellowed, striding to where Jah-Ma-El sat. " Conar's brother angrily shook his head. " Roget looked around from his place at the open doorway. " Hern shot back. "If he tries to hurt—" With a snarl of rage very much unlike Jah-Ma-El, the gangly man stood and glared into Hern's beefy face. " Jah-Ma-El shouted. So surprised by the backbone this thin, unwashed man had developed, Hern could only gape.
I heard Hern Arbra is here. Has anyone seen him, yet? " "He's in the Indoctrination Hut for picking a fight. " Chand asked as he joined the men. He had not gone to the mines with the others, but had spent the day in the cook tent. When his brother and Tyne looked up, he pointed to the lone man behind the row of huts. Stooped over, picking beans in the garden, the man paused, straightened, bent backward in an obvious effort to relieve the strain on his muscles, then wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his arm before bending down again.