Empire of Dreams

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"Do we need this many arrows?" I asked Ali as he fixed and steadied the whole quiver onto his saddle.

He smirked. "One could simply never have enough. Plus they're specially designed for me," pulling one out, he balanced the arrow on his fingertips. "The balance, the flexibility," his fingers bent it slightly. "The tip is made of obsidian," I watched him, fascinated by his interest and his passion. "I designed it. The head pierces through human flesh in seconds, nearly impossible to recover from."

"And the feathers? Are those yours too?"

"From the royal sigil. No one else is allowed to have these." He flipped the arrowhead. "Look at the tip, if you look really closely, you can see my initials. Every royal house has theirs so there is no doubt who killed who. No one else can use these."

"Fancy," I said, chewing the inside of my cheek, swallowing the laugh that threatened to escape my mouth. A healer and a warrior. We were quite a match.

I wish I had laughed then, if only for him to continue the conversation for a little while because that was all the conversation we'd managed to have in the past ten days.

Ten days of constant travel, of endless sand dunes and the swaying movement of the litter. I was nearly at the end of my patience, debating if I should get into an argument with Ali of wanting to ride on a horse. That would at least allow me to see the landscape around me, to feel Ali's presence and enjoy his company.

We'd barely had any time together. I only saw him when he came back, tired from those never-ending meetings, and in the mornings when he helped me pack for the next day of travel.

I missed him. Missed talking to him. Missed waking up beside him. Missed his silence.

Even Ayesha and Haleema had tired of the trip, their gazes searching for something. Ayesha had taken to sneaking out of the tent for brief periods of time at night and I'd pretended to be ignorant about her budding relationship with Hamza.

Someone should have fun.

On the other hand, Haleema had all but given up on this journey. Her tired, anxious gaze was now beginning to haunt me.

Hence, I'd become a professional at avoiding the gazes of those around me, especially that of the boy with the green eyes, who took every opportunity to burn through me with the heat of his discomfiting stare.

Mehmet was still an unsolved issue, his disappointment searing through me.

On our tenth day, we managed to reach the City of Tunis, a major stop among the way. We stood outside the Bab el Bahr, greeted by the second in command to Abu Zakariya, the newly inherited ruler of the city. He led us through the city, our procession winding down the street. As we passed, a sudden breeze cut through the clopping of horseshoes and the narrow alley of abandoned buildings, slicing through the stone hollow in a frenzy of air and sound.

For a moment, I thought I'd heard a shout in the distance. Beside me, Ayesha and Haleema paused as well.

The breeze died down. The whorls of sand and dust falling to the ground.

But all was not right. That much was evident.
I felt it in the air.

Just as I saw the distinct shift of shadows near a building on the far right.

An unfamiliar noise ricocheted in its wake.

A barrage of arrows descended at our troops and I let out a shout. Almost immediately, a legion of soldiers materialized from the shadows, ready to attack. Ready to strike down anyone who dared come in their path.