Sand storm

Heru

The Sun was blazing down on them, despite the servants carrying parasols over their heads. Heru stood tall and proud, his first venture out with his brother to the markets of Marjibara. There had been unrest and several market stalls vandalized, and a temple profaned. This summer had been dryer than usual, and there was a food shortage amongst the poorest of poor. His brother had been sent to inspect the damage, and punish the perpetrators in the name of Pharaoh, as well as deliver food goods to the people, a gift from Pharaoh in such hard times.

When it was all said and done, his brother assessed the damage, and gave the merchants gold to rebuild. They were good merchants, loyal. Some had injuries, given to them for trying to protect their businesses and their families. A few had been killed, and his brother offered prayer and praise for their good deeds so the family might have peace, and the dead could find peace in the next world.

The culprits, all apprehended by stronger merchants, and guards, were chained. His brother declared their guilt as they were all witnessed as perpetrators. A few were sentenced to jail. The ones accused of murdering others were sentenced to death. He ordered their execution. The executioner who traveled with them removed their heads. Heru watched, unafraid and confident in his brother's justice. The crowd approved, praising Pharaoh. When it was done, the guards that surrounded them, and all that accompanied climbed atop their camels and headed with fresh supplies through the desert back to Iskandria.

The trip was several days. It was uneventful, but long and tedious. Miles of sand, and sun, and nothing more really. It was the fifth day of their journey, about half a day away from Iskandria when off in the distance dark clouds began to loom. Soon it seemed to cover the entire horizon.

"I think it's a sandstorm, we should stop now and take cover." An advisor told his brother.

"There's no cover." Another chimed in. "We should keep going, maybe can out run it."

His brother said nothing, merely taking in the surroundings. Finally he spoke. "There." He pointed to some rock formations. "We make for there, as fast as we can, and take cover. He climbed back onto his camel, and set the pace for the others. Heru struggled to keep up a bit, but one of the guards grabbed his reigns and led the reluctant camel along.

The storm was getting closer. It must've been moving at top speed. They reached the rock formation, just in time. They left the camels behind the rocks, and took shelter. "Hurry!" Someone yelled, and Heru wasn't sure who. He was grabbed, cloth wrapped around his face. His brother pushed him down to sit, and guards sheltered him with their bodies.

"Just keep your head down, Heru. Don't try to move until it passes. Here, take this." His brother passed him a wet cloth. "Put it over your mouth and nose, and keep your eyes shut."

He had never been outside in a sand storm before. He watched them move in from the palace on more than one occasion, put always sought shelter in an inner chamber of the palace before it hit. The one that hit them there in the desert was the largest he'd ever seen. The wind picked up and within minutes the dust began to whip at him. His brother was next to him, but Heru could no longer see him. The dust burnt his eyes, so he had to close them. He kept his hands and arms over his head, the cloth, one wet and one dry over his face, and waited.

For several hours it lasted. Heru couldn't see anything, he could barely breathe. The sand tore at his flesh. He could hear someone coughing, and the guards trying to protect him were struggling to do their jobs and keep themselves protected as well. He could feel the temperature drop and he shivered uncontrollably. A part of him wondered if they would die there, it seemed that bad. Sand was beginning to cover his legs, it was building up that high over them.

Just as quickly as it started, the wind died, and the air was clear. Heru blinked, and dared to open his eyes. Everyone was dirty. The temperature seemed to rise within minutes as the sun resumed it's punishing place unobstructed above them. His brother stood, and helped Heru to his feet. Sand covered him up to his knees. He was bleeding in a few spots- mostly his arms, and legs which had been exposed to the elements. His mouth felt dry.

A few men had died. Suffocated. Some were missing, probably buried alive. A few of the camels were missing and dead as well. The guards searched, in hopes of finding anyone alive, but they couldn't afford a lengthy rescue with two of the sons of Pharaoh with them. His camel was well, but more camels had died than men, and the numbers were uneven. His brother took Heru on his camel instead, and men took their cue and doubled up where they could. It was late evening when they arrived back, sore, dehydrated but alive.

Heru had never been happier to see the palace, and even happier to get a bath. A physician tended his minor wounds. When all was done, he greeted his waiting sisters with strong hugs, and much gratitude to the Gods.