The Well of the Drowned Caravan

In the first light of dawn, the Desert of Sand glittered like gold — but Mehran's heart was heavy. The crown-shaped storm that had risen over the horizon the night before had melted away into the morning heat, yet another image still stood before his eyes: the stone eyes of Sardar Aman Khan in Zarnabad's darbar. Eyes that had once glowed with love for every caravan.