Golden Storms | #Wattys2020

12. R E F L E X E S

She was determined not to show any evidence of the events from the night. Yet her heart beat in fear and anger around the assassin who so claimed to be her betrothed, and the reality of the situation was settling in. She was going to marry a monster.

No! She could not let him win.

Her fist tightened on Batal's reins.

You will not succeed in breaking me, I will not let you.

Hudayfa was, for the first time in a long time, unpleasantly surprised.

Had he not twisted her wrist so that the crack had echoed around them? Had she not screamed and cried? He had not expected her to act like nothing happened. There was no evidence of that event, and yet he was sure she must be in agony.  At the very least, he'd expected her to go running to her brothers. Yet all Falaq had done was easily mount the dappled grey stallion and start riding as though she'd been doing it for years. But she did not speak nor pass a snide comment, and his pride had somewhat recovered in the silence.

She'd gotten the message then: stay away from him, and keep her insolent mouth shut.

He'd won, but the victory was not sweet. Her very presence was putting him on edge. There was something there that he was sure they could both feel, something he did not like.

It didn't matter. When they reached the fort, she'd see what he was capable of, and the message would be driven home.

The fort itself grew in size before them gradually. A large expanse of trees stood between them, and Hudayfa was certain their spies stood concealed in the trees.

"Halt" Taimur's voice rippled through the air. He seemed to inhale, and Falaq raised an eyebrow incredulously. Was he smelling it?

Or perhaps he was just taking a breath of peace before they stormed the fort. That was probably it. 

"We have a visitor" Hud concluded, his voice soft. Falaq subtly leaned away from him. His soft voice was as deceptive as a wolf in sheepskin.

But he was right.

For just a moment later, a lone sentry on a white stallion emerged from the trees. He looked as though he'd been riding for some time, his helmet removed to reveal a head covered in sweat. His face held the harshness of terrible grief, and Falaq felt her heart clench for him.

Leave! She wanted to warn him, did he not know these people showed no mercy?

He seemed not to care, and she immediately knew his aim hadn't been to send word but warning.

"Shall I?" Zuhair, Taimur's Right Hand asked quietly. As soon as they had stopped the other Right Hands had also ridden up next to their masters, ready for anything.

"Let him speak" Taimur responded, holding up a pale hand.

Zuhair bowed his hooded head and backed away.

The sentry, now within fifty yards, raised his flag. The golden flag on the purple fabric glinted in the sunlight. He ground it in the dirt before them, glare locked on Taimur.

"The Fort shall never surrender!" He roared, bloodshot eyes glowering with so much hatred and pain Falaq's heart clenched. He had no doubt surmised of what transpired during the night. The cawing of the crows had only grown, the sound seemed to louden in her ears.

"Indeed" Taimur responded, unimpressed.

The sentry lifted his spear, and he seemed to move painfully slow before Falaq's eyes.

Two things happened:

Taimur moved so fast his form was a blur. His hand moved to his side and launched a dagger with lightening speed. It lodged itself in the Sentry's chest as the spear left his hand. The impact of the dagger moved the sentry's aim, and suddenly the spear was hurtling toward Falaq.