Sahir's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Rashid stood at the market gate with a sack of dried meat under one arm and the spear across his back. He walked toward Sahir slow, the way a man walks toward a colt with a snake near its hoof. Sahir had one apple still in his mouth and one on the sand between his front hooves. Rashid's hand came up. "Drop it." Sahir did not drop it. He crunched down and juice ran along his tongue. Rashid stepped in and got two fingers on the bit strap, then tried to work Sahir's jaw open with the flat of his palm. Sahir turned his head away and kept chewing. He bent, snatched the second apple off the sand, and worked that one too. Rashid pulled harder. Pulp fell from Sahir's lips onto Rashid's wrist. By the time Rashid pried the mouth open, there was nothing left but seeds and skin and a wet tongue. Rashid stepped back and wiped his hand on his belt. "You will work this off," he said. "Every apple. Every mile." Sahir flicked an ear. Then a shout came from inside the gate and Chen Bao pushed through the crowd in his brown apron, red in the face, one finger already out. He wanted the horse. He wanted the horse's owner. He wanted the coin for two apples and a fright given to a paying customer. Rashid let him talk. When Chen Bao ran out of breath Rashid said, "Two apples." Chen Bao started again, louder. Rashid held up a hand. "Two apples," he said. "Name the price." Chen Bao named a price three times fair. Rashid counted the coins into his palm without looking at them and pressed them into Chen Bao's hand. Chen Bao stood there counting a second time, lips moving. Sahir stepped forward and stamped once, hard, and kicked a spray of sand across the vendor's boots and up his apron. Chen Bao yelped and jumped back. Rashid caught the bridle and yanked Sahir's head down level with his own. "Enough," he said. "You are done today." His voice was flat. He did not raise it. He turned Sahir toward the open desert and started walking. Sahir followed at his shoulder. His belly was full for the first time in three days. The sour taste sat under his tongue. Rashid was angry and Rashid had paid, and both of those were true at once. Sahir kept his ears forward and did not look back at the man in the brown apron. The apples were his. He had eaten them. Today he had won.