Prince of Knights (An Arabic Love Story)✓

Prince of Knights Chp56

Without giving anyone a moment to ponder, or sigh in contentment, Faris grabbed Khaleefa by the collar and hauled the man out of the large tent. Ignoring how his victim had turned pale, or the fact that his feet dragged behind him.

Gasps and shocked voices rang in the tent from the sight. Such audacity, such insolence, was never witnessed in the Borkan tribe, let alone among the leaders.

"Faris, what on earth are you doing? Let him go this instant." Sheikh Mubarak barked, following his son out of the tent.

At his father's words, Faris abruptly let go of Khaleefa's neck, and the man landed on his hands, next to Faris's feet.

"What is the meaning of this outrageous behavior? Have you lost your senses at the battle?" Mubarak stood before his son, not reaching down to aid Khaleefa.

Faris's knights stood behind him, bloodied and battered. They watched as Faris attempted to tame his rage. The rise and fall of his chest were an indication of how hard the knight ventured to remain calm.

"No father, the battle has brought me to my senses," he moved his burning gaze to the crowd and saw them cower. "For months, I have pondered. For months, I have fought every single attempt this man," he threw his hand to Khaleefa, who was still on his knees. "Did to annihilate my knights. And to turn the women of my tribe into widows."

"Where are you bringing these accusations from, Faris?" Khaleefa finally rose to his feet and faced his nephew.

The knight clenched his jaw as his eyes landed on Khaleefa, "Do you wish to know uncle?"

"How dare you drag your uncle like this in front of his tribe? Is this how we raised you? Is this how a knight behaves?" Mubarak now stood next to his brother, Khaleefa.

"This is how an individual like him should be treated." Faris stared at his father for a few seconds then he called, "Badr,"

The Rashideen knight stepped forward from the line Faris's knights had made and stopped alongside Faris. Surrounded by people who did not wish his presence, Badr did not waver. As though, comprehending Faris's words, he pulled out the coins and the ring. Faris took them from Badr and tossed the coins and the ring on Khaleefa's feet.

"Tell me, uncle, what is your ring and your coins doing with someone like Marwan?"

Khaleefa's eyes were down for a while; he lifted his eyes with a grin. "Ah, I see. You have disrespected your blood because of a mere ring." He then crouched down, grabbed a few coins in his hand, then stood to his height. "Marwan is a disreputable burglar. There is not a single tribe in these lands he has not stolen from."

"So, you, reject your ties with Marwan?" Faris growled.

"There were no ties, to begin with." Khaleefa closed his fingers around the coin in his hand.

Here Faris took a step closer. "You have always been the man who made me a knight. I always honored you as my father, but you never once thought of me as your son," The knight exhaled. "When Marwan uttered your name, the ground beneath my feet vanished. It felt as if my father," Faris placed his hand on his chest. "Ripped my soul into pieces."

"What of Marwan?" Mubarak demanded.

Faris glanced at his father, and his eyes communicated the tale of Marwan's death then he looked back at Khaleefa. "I have one question, though, why? Why did you have to have Nasser's blood on your hand? Why did you kill Saif?" 

At Nasser's name, Faris received the slightest of reactions from Khaleefa, but it vanished before he could comprehend it. "I do not know what you are talking about."