Welcome back, guys! Enjoy.
*~If you see me upset and crying,
Don't feel sad for me and don't wonder about the reason.
I'm just training my eyes, to be ready,
For the farewell day~* His Highness Sheikh Hamdan bin Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum.
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One moon later
Shoug bit her lip, attempting to tame her thumping heart. Her thumb played with her engagement ring, as she bounced her left leg. Her nerves jumbled, and her throat parched. Today was the day Gaith was coming to meet her for the first time after their engagement. When her mother had informed her that Gaith wished to see his spouse, Shoug was stunned and delighted. She wanted to put a face to the name, which is why Shouq had not denied it, and Batool had offered to accompany her sister.
Her heavy eyes prickled, for she had tossed and turned in her cot all night, but no sleep knocked at her door. And now Shoug sat, draped in a radiant violet jalabiya Gaith had brought, his engagement ring on her finger and a simple gold chain adorned her neck.
Gaith, his mother, and his brother sat in the main room of the house. Shoug did not know what she was to say to Gaith or what to ask him. Biting the corner of her lip, she wiped her moist hands on her jalabiya and scowled at her action. Shoug lowered her head, fiddling with the ring; that was when the door of her chamber pushed open, and a grinning Batool entered the room.
"Shoug, uff, ya Shoug. He is so handsome." Batool squealed, causing a deep blush to tingle Shoug's cheeks, and she dropped her gaze.
Ever since his mother told Umm Faris that Gaith wished to meet Shoug, she felt that her mornings greeted her with a smile, and her eyes dreamed while she was wide awake of the merchant of Alsham.
"I saw him sitting next to Nasser. He has such poise, grace, and Shoug; unlike most knights, Gaith does not accompany a sword but a splendidly carved dagger. He truly is a merchant." Batool carried on, pacing excitedly in front of Shoug.
Shoug dug her teeth on her bottom lip as her nerves whizzed in her blood. "I do not know what to say or ask him."
Batool smirked at her sister. "You know you can say his name. in front of me. Try it. Say Gaith."
Shoug flushed, shaking her head, and Batool laughed. "Do not fret. I am sure your merchant will do all the talking," Batool clapped her hands. "I cannot wait to hear him converse. I desire to see how a true trader talks. He holds himself uniquely from all the knights I have come across."
Shoug felt her palms turn cold and moist welcome them. "You will remain by me?"
"In Sha Allah, I will be next to you all the time. Mother said you shall see him in the main room, and I will be there to support." Batool appraised, and Shoug's heart quivered.
Shoug peered at the rug in front of her and smiled to herself. She was happy, so happy that at times Shoug wanted to twirl around and voice the melody that her naive heart sang. She had rejected the offers of so many men because her mind had sketched someone else in her brain. Someone who was her equal in both status and character, which is why she needed to see Gaith with her eyes to make sure all those rumors were true for once, and for some reason, she knew they were authentic.
Batool sat next to her sibling. "Although," she started mischief apparent in her dark eyes," If you desire, I can depart and leave you two alone to converse."
Shoug gasped and lightly smacked Batool's shoulder, who in return threw her head back and laughed. "By Allah, you should have seen your face," Batool stopped just as the door to Shoug's room opened again to reveal their mother.
Umm Faris beamed at her eldest daughter, pride twinkling in her eyes. She walked up to the cot, noticing the blush on Shoug's cheeks. "Binty, are you ready?" She settled her hand on Shoug's head. "Umm Gaith and I will be in Nasser's room if you need us."
Shoug nodded bashfully, unable to look her mother in the eye. "Shoug, you look rather nervous." Her mother then placed her fingers on Shoug's chin.
"I do not know what to ask or say, Umaya."
Her mother beamed. "It is natural. Do not fret. Gaith is a righteous man," she then gently stood her daughter up. "Let us go."
Batool grabbed Shoug's hand as they stepped out of the room. Their mother smiled and walked the other way. Taking a deep breath, Shoug started to make her way towards the main room, eyes downcast and heart racing in her chest.
Finally!
All those nights when she lay sleepless on her cot, delineating how Gaith would resemble or how he would behave upon facing her, were now molding into reality. Shoug knew that their meeting would transform her life and her naive heart, for she knew her heart and soul had deserted her.
When they entered the main room, Shoug felt a shiver run from her skull towards her toes, and the tips of her fingers tingled. From the corner of her decorated eyes, she saw someone stand to their full height at their sight. "Salamu alikum." Came a silvery voice caressing the wind, and Shoug inhaled silently.
"Wa alikum as-salam," Shoug and Batool replied as they sat on a floor cushion a few feet away from Gaith.
Shoug's senses sparkled, taking in every detail of the man's action. She noticed how he waited for them to be seated then sat down, his head slightly lowered out of respect. Her heart flapped its wings within her chest. The wind beamed, leaping over a burning lantern next to the wooden door, and tiptoed to sit next to Shoug, eager to witness their encounter.
"How have you been?" Gaith's melodious voice questioned. Shoug bit her lip; his voice was nothing like Faris; Gaith's voice was soft yet confident. He had a voice that commanded people to hearken despite its softness.
Finally, Shouq mustered the courage to lift her head and look at him. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, and then her eyes landed on Gaith. As soon as her gaze landed on Gaith, a silent hiss passed her lips. Ya, Allah! He was indeed prepossessing.
"Alhamdulillah, how have you been?" Her voice shook, and Shoug dropped her gaze once again, tremendously shy.
"Alhamdulillah, I am well with the grace of Allah. It is good that we get the opportunity to meet, for I desired to ask you something if I may have your permission?"
Shoug carefully looked at him, worried. What would he question her? Was he not content with this relation? She nodded, unable to pronounce words. She took note of how Gaith cleared his throat. Was he just as apprehensive as her? She could not explain, for he sat straight, and his eyes whenever met hers were serene.
"I am aware that my mother asked for your hand, ya Shoug; however, I must know if you are comfortable with this relationship? If, by any possibility, you do not feel the way I feel," Shoug gulped. "You have the freedom to voice your thoughts, and I shall respect them."
Ya, Allah. He did converse like a trader. "I," Shoug cleared her throat. "I do not have any objections."
Here, Gaith smiled and dropped his gaze. Shouq peered at him. His smile was like the sun after a misty morning, radiant and translucent. He was just as she had sketched her spouse to be, and that caused her neck to tingle.
"I wish to know your answer," Shoug questioned in a low voice, afraid if she raised her voice, her feelings might unveil themselves.
Gaith looked at her for a few seconds, and Shoug held his gaze with a spirit she did not know she had. He interlinked his long fingers, and that was when Shoug noticed his clothes. Gaith wore a white kandoora with a red headdress and a dagger by his side. His hair was short, unlike her brothers', and his skin a bit less bronzed.
"My istakhara has directed me here." He smiled again, and Shoug sensed a smile tug at the corner of her lips; she quickly looked down. Their conversation carried on as Gaith asked questions, and Shoug did her best to answer. After a while, she learned that he had memorized half of the Quran when he was seventeen summers. Shoug found out that Gaith cherished poetry; and trading, hence Gaith's stay in AlSham for five summers.
Shoug's fingers turned white from how tightly she had clasped them. Batool lightly tapped her side to let her know that everything was okay. Inhaling, she looked at Gaith. "I wanted to ask, why did you return from AlSham?"
He grinned again and nodded. "For this reason," he indicated Shoug. "And I missed my mother dearly."
Shoug wanted to know if she had to leave her family and tribe and live in AlSham; so she could prepare her mind and her heart for it. "Do you prefer to return to Alsham after..."Shoug trailed off.
Gaith gazed at her for a few seconds, and in those seconds, Shoug felt her body turn heated and cold at the same time. "La, ya Shoug," her ears thrilled as he pronounced her name. "I crave to stay in my tribe for now."
She nodded her head.
"Do you fret that I may fail to shield you since I am not a knight but a trader?" Gaith inquired, his eyes twinkling.
Shoug bit her lip and shook her head. "Ya bint-ash-sheikh, by Allah, I shall protect you with the best of my abilities. I may not be a warrior like your brothers, but I do know how to yield a sword and protect what is mine."
Shoug shivered as if it was cold. The elderly wind scolded the younger ones for disturbing her; however, it was not the wind but her heart. She nodded.
"Shall I pour you more ghawa?" Batool asked Gaith.
"Mashkoor, Faris made me swallow a whole dalla." He jested with Shoug's younger sibling, who giggled.
"That is Faris for you," Batool said just as Umm Faris and Gaith's mother entered the main room. Gaith stood to his feet, and the women beamed, blessing Shoug and Gaith.
Shoug wanted to decamp; her nerves were in a knot when it was only Batool in the chamber, but now she felt as if every vein in her body was warm, so heated she felt her body kindle. She could not lift her gaze as Gaith's mother spoke and kept blessing them. Her palms were moist and white; she clenched them tighter to conceal the tremor.
They sat there for a while, and Shoug merely nodded her head. What was she to utter when her spouse's mother sat in the same chamber as the? As if sensing her anxiousness, Batool spoke. "We must prepare more ghawa for you." Batool looked at her mother, who nodded.
Without lifting her head, Shoug rose to her feet and murmured. "Fe aman Allah."
"Fe aman al-Kareem." Just as they heard the reply, Batool and Shoug made their way to their chamber; without saying a word.
As soon as Batool closed the door, Shoug collapsed on her cot with a hand on her beating heart. Batool walked up to her sister, chuckling. They sat there for a while; Batool turned her head to her sister and bumped her shoulder. "I am so delighted for you. Masha Allah Gaith truly is what every woman wishes in her spouse."
Shoug bit her lip for the umpteenth time, blushing. "You believe so?"
Batool grabbed Shoug's shoulders gently. "Wallahi, he is the man I had prayed you to pair with, and Allah bestowed me my wishes."
"Batool, do not tell mother, but I am content. I could never imagine myself with another man." Shoug ducked her head, and Batool laughed at the happiness shimmering in her sibling's eyes.
Alhamdulilah.
**
Whereas in the Borkan tribe, Shouq met with the man she had finally agreed to pair with, the eagle of knights, on the other hand, traveled the lands searching for those who turned his life upside down.
The wind turned into a gale as winter coldness nipped on Badr's cheeks. Badr lifted his head and squinted at the sun; for some unfathomable reason, the desert winter far from the Rashideen tribe was more biting and ruthless. Badr held the ends of his headdress and encased it around his face so that his eyes were visible.
Sagr al fursan looked to his right where Saif and Jabbir gathered logs to light a fire. They had suspended their journey for a while next to two old mesquites trees on a plain land to pray Dhuhr and repast. Badr's eyes drifted to his eagle on Saif's shoulder, and he beamed behind the headdress. Fihan spent most of his time on Saif's shoulder; however, the foxy bird flew up to his owner whenever Fihan needed food.
Shaking his head, Badr held the reins of their horses and tied them on a bush nearby. Just as Badr wrapped his thobe tighter around his form, Fihan took its flight. Badr turned his back on his falcon, knowing it shall soon land on his right shoulder. However, when it did not, Badr looked up and frowned. Fihan circled them thrice, then suddenly made its way to the east. Here, both Saif and Jabbir looked at the falcon then it's master.
"Where is Fihan going?" Jabbir asked, dropping another log into the newly lit fire.
Badr kept his gaze on his falcon as it drew further away. What is the creature attempting to appraise Badr? As if comprehending, both Badr and Saif glanced at each other. The man could not speak; but, his big eyes spoke volume, and Badr understood him well.
'Fihan wants you to trail him.'
"Jabbir, douse the fire; we must depart now," Badr ordered, freed their horses, and swiftly mounted Barq. "Yalla." He glanced at his companions, ax in hand.
Jabbir immediately threw sand on the fire to extinguish it, then followed Saif to mount his horse. Just as they saddled, Badr galloped ahead, following Fihan. A gnawing feeling knocked at Badr's heart, for he knew that Fihan would not act this peculiar unless there is something ardent the creature craved Badr to know.
The horses left a trail of sand in their wake, and Badr urged Barq to gallop faster. He kept his narrowed eyes on Fihan as it soared higher and higher into the frosty sky. Dune after dune, the knights rode in fervent urgency. "What is the matter with Fihan?" Jabbir barked over the thundering hooves.
"I believe Fihan has something to show us," Badr replied, glancing at Saif, who nodded.
The mighty sun descended another step enveloping the sky in a hue of cerulean and hazy clouds. The wind straddled Badr's horse and flapped his thobe as the knights increased speed at the sight of an old mud fort. Badr tightened his hold on Barq's rein.
Not Souk al Layl.
Badr groaned in chagrin. He had been avoiding this souk for over two moons now. Souk al Layl was notorious for being the refuge of miscreants from around these lands, and Badr did not want to clash with anyone when his spine was not sturdy enough yet. Souk al Layl was the place he wanted to enter when he had enough knights following him, not just with Jabbir and Saif. He knew Jabbir could yield a sword, but Badr was yet to see Saif's abilities.
Gritting his teeth, Badr did not stop, nor did he slow down. They rode fast and steady until the old fort was almost at walking distance. Badr lifted his left hand, and his followers slowed down. They dismounted their horses, each holding the rein of their horse, and cautiously made their way to Souk al Layl.
Saif and Jabbir instantly flocked each side of Badr as they walked through the broken mud walls of the souk. The trio entered the souk keeping their gaze ahead; however, all three sharpened their senses and subtly placed their hands on their weapons, ready to strike if need be.
As they trekked further into the souk, the hustle and bustle of the people shuffling shoulder to shoulder lowered down to a silent buzz, and Badr instantly knew they were unwelcomed guests. His eyes took in one of the narrow alleys with stalls: he noticed there was not a single child or woman: then again, Souk al Layl was not a place for the guiltless.
The wind dismounted their horses and stood alongside Badr. It gazed up to see that the sun could not penetrate the countless palm awnings, and winter was more unrelenting in the alley. It ceased its movements altogether, seeing how Badr had removed his headdress from his face.
The stalls on either side of Badr had awnings made of palm fronds and filthy rags. A few dogs scurried past the trio sensing the tension in the air, and a man who dusted the front of his stall with a broken broom halted to glower at them. Disregarding him, Badr sniffed and grimaced against the slight scent of spices blended with the stench of blood. His gaze landed on a butcher who slaughtered a lamb on the corner of the street, permitting blood to stain the sand and flow to a nearby gutter.
The butcher's stall caught Badr's attention; his narrowed eyes drifted to the dried meat swinging from the awning, but what caused Badr to lift a brow were the weapons right behind a filthy wooden block.
The squalid yet colorful stalls trading all sorts of clothing, food, and spices halted entirely; as a man from the other side of the alley materialized. Badr's senses kicked in when the man stopped a few feet away from them with Fihan resting on his broad shoulder its wings spread and eyes on Badr, it's master.
If Badr's spine was stiff before, it went rigid from the sight in front of him. The man was enormous. Badr had always thought that Nasser: Prince Faris's sibling: was the tallest and bulkiest man Badr had ever come across in these lands; however, the man standing declared him mistaken.
The man's gigantic frame almost occupied the narrow alley where they stood. His head nearly reached the rusty awning of the butcher's stall, and dark, thick hair fell on his shoulders. The muscles on his neck were prodding, almost touching the falcon resting on his shoulder. His dark clothing stood out against the pallid claw marks on his left cheek and azure eyes. Badr's gaze dropped to the man's weapons, and here, his jaw clenched tighter. He held a sword in his right hand, and the other hung from his sword belt.
Badr stared at the man for a few more seconds. "Salam Alikum." He articulated.
"Wa alikum as salam, warrior. What brings a nobleman such as yourself to our contemptible lair?" Asked a rough voice, it sounded as if someone were scrapping two stones together.
Badr lifted two of his fingers and pointed at Fihan. "I believe the bird taking refuge on your shoulder belongs to me."
The man looked at Fihan sideways, then at Badr, and smirked. "I know it is your bird, Badr al Rashideen," the man took another step forward. "The real enigma is, can you take your falcon back?"
How on earth did he know Badr's name? Who was this man?
"If you know the falcon belongs to him, how dare you loot it?" Jabbir growled, standing next to Badr.
The man's gaze nonchalantly moved to Jabbir, and he cocked his head to the side as if sizing him. His lazy expression suggested that Jabbir was not his opponent. "Ah, the thing is, I did not capture it; the bird came to me."
Badr peered at the man. Indeed, he did not capture Fihan, if he had, there would be signs of a fight, but the falcon was quiet, staring back at Badr in utter stillness. What was Fihan attempting to tell him? Why did this man know who Badr was and where he was? Sagr al Fursan nodded. "Very well. Do tell me when and how I can have my falcon back?"
The man touched Fihan's beak with his fingers, and after a while, he said. "Now," and glanced at Badr. "But you have to exhibit you are deserving of having this falcon."
Badr sighed, foreseeing it. The man before them desired to examine his skills and see if Badr would succumb. Just as the man drew his sword, Fihan took its flight and landed on Saif's shoulder, and Badr parted his feet, ready to strike.
"Badr, allow me to confront this scoundrel. How dare he challenge you?" Jabbir hissed.
"La, ya Jabbir. Fihan is my falcon, and I must retrieve him back." Badr replied, ever so calmly as if blood was not simmering in his veins. He needed to solve this matter without raising much alarm; he was not strong enough to create such a commotion.
And then, in a blink of an eye, the monstrous man advanced, and by Allah, Badr did not see him coming. He was like a glutton wolf leaping at its prey with utter power, which left Badr panting. With every ruthless strike of the man's two swords, Badr took steps back from the tremendous force as the man's weapons danced with the wind.
Badr's sandals slipped on the tiny stones as he attempted to hold his ground. He pushed his ax and sword against his opponent's weapons enough to create some space between them.
Badr stood there panting, glaring at his assailant. That moment the wind twirled in the alley, taking with it dust and the foul stench coming from the butcher's stall.
All this while, Badr tried to remain calm and manipulate the situation with his wits rather than a blade. However, his patience ran off, and he tightened his hold on his ax and struck. The first strike of Badr's ax rendered the man speechless as one of his swords landed with a thud next to his foot.
Cracking the tightness of his neck, Badr seized the rein of the situation in his hands, for it was his turn to attack. He merely peeled off the first layer of all the training he had done years ago and struck back in such a graceful manner his opponent wheezed, sweat coating his forehead despite the cold.
With a sudden and sharp kick on his opponent's midriff, Badr snatched his sword, flung it to the side, and propelled the man again. His action led the large man to lose balance and collapse on his hands. Without wasting a second, Badr drew his ax on the man's throat, glaring down at him, and it was that moment that Fihan finally landed on Badr's shoulder.
"Dhiyab," the man's harsh voice declared. "My name is Dhiyab, ya Badr, and I want to join your quest for revenge." The man breathed, staring at Badr in utmost intentness.
So, this was what Fihan was attempting to tell him.
Badr studied the man, and in his eyes, he observed deep anguish, a pain that resembled the one he felt ever since his father got assassinated before his eyes. Then a smile slowly graced his lips. Dhiyab intentionally challenged him, for this was the only way he could meet Badr, reveal his abilities, and prove that he was deserving of being Badr's fighter.
Sagr al fursan glanced at Saif, who just gave a single nod of his head to confirm that Dhiyab was not a foe but rather an asset. And that was how Dhiyab, the wolf, shook hands with Badr in their perilous journey that guaranteed death.
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Can you guys tell me the difference in Faris and Badr's way of handling a fight? ;)