Drabble, and More Drabble...

Epiphanes

Sand in his clothes, his food, his drink.

Sand on leather scouring his skin.

At first he had believed in honour, to serve a man such as he did honoured his family, gave him ambitions that he also might rise high.

But time and a hundred betrayals showed the lie to it. He watched influential men as they squabbled for power. They made alliances, married off their sisters, their daughters, their grandmothers if they thought it brought profit.

And for what?  

To await the knife in the back, the poisoned cup?

No, no honour to be found here.

Just sand.