It was the screeching of the wheel that made him finally lift his head from the rough wooden surface. Not that he was sleeping. Sleep was difficult. And the thought of drifting back into that hollow world—where he was some fisherman’s son—also abated the sleep that would have formed. He had been thinking. Since they bought him after his failed escaped plan, the slave commander and the masters have not said much. Before now, he thought they were heading to Terah, where he had been hoping to start a new life or whatever life the masters want from him. But as it stands, nothing seemed to be moving in the direction he had predicted. He had even heard rumors from the masters about the war in Terah.
His stomach jutted at the thought. He hated wars and anything related to it. Not that he had see
