---Nadir's POV---

The heat was blistering, cracking my lips as the dry air sucked any semblance of moisture from my body. I could feel the sweat trickling down the back of my head, low on my back and drenching my clothes.

Even the wind was hot, pelting me with additional waves of heat to the point where I just wanted to find some shade and hide the rest of the day.

But there wasn't a hint of shade to be found. The only shade was directly underneath Tahir and I. Even my trusted horse was starting to foam around the mouth, letting his head droop.

Which was why I was heading to the nearest town. I didn't want to risk pushing Tahir too much and possibly losing him to a heatstroke.

I knew that horses needed a lot to drink, which was one of the reasons why they were such a rarity among the desert. Camels were more sought after, not because they didn't drink a lot, but because they stored their liquid intake.

During my recovery among the Bedouin tribes, I had come to learn a great deal of the local wildlife. Especially the nomads loved their camels, because those animals were made for their lifestyle.

One of the camel breeders had actually done some tests, to prove the superiority of a camel compared to the horse. While it was true that the camel drank more than the average horse during one sitting, they could last a ridiculous amount of time on that drink.

Ajmal had calculated from filling his water trough and letting the camel have its fill, that the critter could easily pack away 53 gallons of water and, when brought along on their long travels, could last without another drink for up to seven months.

Compare that to the horse, which drank a daily average of a mere 10 gallons, it seemed expensive to get a camel. But, horses only lasted a week without water before they perished.

With his small test, Ajmal had realized that his herd of camels would save him the horses yearly quota of 480 gallons of water, compared to the camels 91 gallons.

I smiled at the memory, as my injuries had prevented me from leaving whenever Ajmal went of on one of his explanations. And over time, I had grown to look forwards to another of his harebrained experiments.

Because overall, even though he was just a man trying to save some money, his focus was on the animal's safety and health. He didn't want to accidentally kill off his herd simply through neglect.

And that was more than some other owners out there could say about themselves. I patted Tahir on the neck, eyes trailing over the horizon before spotting the wavering shadows of buildings in the distance.

Hopefully this wasn't another mirage conjured up by the heat. I clicked my tongue at Tahir, picking up his pace. He eagerly rushed forwards, head nodding as if he too realized that a cool drink was waiting for him.

I was grateful for the multiple layers that protected my skin from the sun but Tahir didn't have that luxury. And while a dark horse didn't run any risk of catching a quick sunburn, I knew that his white nose would be a sore point.

Tahir nickered softly, flanks heaving as he rushed ahead, nearly barreling over the guards at the waypoint. His nostrils widened seconds before I laughed as he nearly buried his entire head into the water trough.

"Good boy." I murmured, jumping down and taking the, undoubtedly itchy saddle from his back. Tahir barely acknowledged me with a flick of his ear, tail swishing to get rid of the flies that instantly flocked to him.

One of the stable boys already approached, eager to care for Tahir. Horses were a rarity, especially this far in the desert so it wasn't surprising that I'd have more than one set of eager hands to help me out.

By the time that Tahir had drank his fill and tiredly followed, smacking his lips, we had gathered a small following. Men, women and children, all watching Tahir and I curiously, some with more suspicion than others.

I didn't blame them. These desert communities were tightly knit, they knew anyone and everyone within their city limits. An outsider was a double-sided sword ; They were newcomers that could bring in money, buy goods and sell necessary supplies. But nobody knew who these outsiders were, so they also posed a risk for the community.

Which is why the first few moments, they greeted the newcomers politely, but they were a tad standoffish. Not impolitely so; They simply wanted to be certain whom they were dealing with before dropping all pretenses.

But it was heartwarming how, even if they didn't know me, these people were accommodating, hospitable and greeted me like a long lost friend.

From just a trained glance, these people could tell I was a wary traveler, tired from being on the road. But they also saw that Tahir was a well-cared for horse, and that my clothes were relatively clean, if a bit worn from travel.

With a few words spoken in greeting and warm smiles, they deemed me to be at least friendly and not a threat to their thriving community.

"Thank you." I replied politely as the stable boy took the saddle and woven saddle blanket. The sudden release of weight made me realize how tired I was and I sighed, cracking my back and groaning under my breath.

A few coins in the hands of the stable boys would assure me that Tahir would be well taken care of and after I was pointed in the right direction, I staggered towards the nearest inn.

" 'Ahlaan wasahlaan sadiqiun. Please come, sit." (Welcome, my friend.) The man said with a handshake, smiling as he ushered me inside and plopped me in a seat. By the time that I was fully relaxed, I had a plate of steaming dolma, vine leaves stuffed with succulent lamb meat and juicy vegetables, a bowl of hummus and freshly baked pita bread to dip with.

I almost felt like a child when I spotted the hostess preparing some baklava, buttery filo pastry filled with chopped up nuts, sweet syrup and a honey dressing.

My mouth already salivated, as I could imagine the sticky, sweet treat melting on my tongue. The man chuckled and clapped me good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Wait till she starts making knafeh. Never had such a delicious cheesecake in my life. Allah blessed me with a wife like Latifa."

Her warm brown eyes found his and even from this distance, I could swear that she blushed before she pulled at her hijab. I made a show of averting my gaze quickly, knowing it was considered to be impolite to stare at Islamic women.

Especially so if they are married.

"I haven't had knafeh in years." I said, patting my stomach when it let out an audible gurgle. The owner grinned widely, giving my shoulder another squeeze. "Well my friend, you chose the right inn to rest at. Latifa's knafeh is well known in these parts. But rest and eat, we can talk later, my friend."

I grinned warmly before starting on the steaming meal, knowing that I'd be overly stuffed in a few hours. Yet I made sure to never clean the plates completely, which I had learned was impolite to do.

Leaving some food on the plate showed an overabundance and was considered a compliment for the host; to show that in their thoughtfulness to provide for their guests, they made sure that all guests were well-fed and taken care of.

When the owner, who introduced himself as Achmed, came over with tea, I followed etiquette and politely refused a few times before accepting the tea with a grin. Even though I was thirsty, I slowly sipped from the minty tea, allowing the flavor to refresh my mouth.

Achmed's smile widened, knowing I was showing him the same curtesy he was blessing me with. By sipping my tea slowly, taking my time instead of gulping it down, I had shown that I enjoyed their company and wanted to stay in it longer.

After I was done eating, I enjoyed some small talk with Achmed, making sure that I asked for a room to stay for a couple of days. Tahir needed his time to recover from the heat and I preferred to give myself a few days off as well.

Besides, I wasn't in a rush to deal with the next master in line. It wouldn't matter if I took a few more days to get there, it wasn't as if he was going to disappear in a puff of smoke.

Even if he did, nobody disappeared without leaving a trail. No matter how difficult the task, I'd find my masters and give them their just rewards.

Who cared if word spread and they suspected that they were being hunted? It made the revenge all the more sweeter, knowing that they were anticipating me.

A few days spend living in a constant state of panic and dread was a small price compared to the lifetimes they forced upon their slaves.

It was only karma at work, or like the Muslims believed, Kifarah. They simply believed that Allah was a great planner and that He had a plan for every single one of his faithful.

A smile slid on my lips, as undoubtedly these people would try and repent for their sins, claiming them to be simple mistakes.

But a mistake was performing an act, thinking it was for the right cause before you learned it was wrong. Doing or continuing the act while you fully know it was wrong, counted as a sin.

And all these men and women who claimed themselves masters of others, were sinners. From what I had learned from the Quran, slavery wasn't admonished but then again, slaves were seen as spiritual equals with their masters.

They weren't meant to be beaten and abused, to be whipped and starved. They were meant to be taken care of, urged to earn back their freedom from their "masters."

Of course, there were always some rotten apples in the bunch that soiled everything. Some men and women alike, who saw in slaves nothing more than cattle, bleating and waiting for the slaughter.

And it was those masters that I sought out to punish. For I , was their Kifarah, their just karma that followed the breaking of their sacred laws.

But for now, I was going to relax and take my time. It wouldn't be long before another so called master repented for their sins.