A/N: EID MUBARAK! This is the LONGEST chapter yet so hope you enjoy! 💕 Also guys I'm not an expert in history and I apologise for any incorrect info that pops up about ancient cities. Feel free to correct me. One of you rightly said this book needs to be promoted more - my question to you is HOW?? Give me ideas! Of course I want it to be read by more readers <3 ALSO what shall we call this family? Stormers HAHAHAHA but no seriously!
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She is hides something behind her rude, arrogant behaviour. It is thinly veiled, and I use all the patience left in me to wait for tag veil to fall and answer the last question I have. I yearn to be free. Free of her.
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T H E C A R A V A N, رَبِيع ٱلْأَوَّل
P R E - M A C R I
"There is no way in the entirety of this earth I shall don those garments"
"Abi, you must! It is their custom"
"I would rather chop off my own nose!"
Ishtar humpfed at her father's stubbornness. The once grand councillor of Taghrid was sitting firmly cross-legged on their now battered rug, pompously soothing his Taghridi robes as if to reassure the fabric he would not leave it anytime soon.
His beard had grown out, and his hair was not well kept. The once proud crown was scraggly, with his scalp shining through. Still, his physique remained lean and upright, and Zakariyya had not forgotten his stature.
They were currently camped some miles north of the nearest settlement. The settlement led into Macri, the first of the great Inumiden Kingdom townships. According to Amaan, it would be better for them to disguise themselves as local Amazigh (due to their skin tones) instead of announcing themselves as foreigners. The Numidians were a proud people, even their villagers, and who defended their kingdom with utmost loyalty.
"They will catch us out in moments, Abi" Ishtar tried again, "and we cannot even speak their tongues. What if they take us as slaves!"
Amaan snorted behind her, but she paid him no heed even though her neck flamed.
"Slaves?" Zakariyya exclaimed in horror, "surely not! Do I look like a slave? Tell me, Hussaina, have I lost my dignity so swiftly?"
And as her mother began to console her father with a hint of impatience rising into barely contained scolding, Ishtar sighed and ambled away from the bickering.
She gazed up at the clear blue sky. There was not a cloud in sight. Instead, the sun's scorching rays spread across the heavens and beat down upon them. She looked down at her fingers. The milky pale skin had acquired a coppery touch to it due to the exposure.
Ya Falaq, how do you fare? She wondered longingly. If Falaq had been by her side, they would have laughed their journey away, conning their companions away with mischievous schemes.
She wondered if Falaq had gotten the answers she sought, if they'd reached Tridari yet. She hoped her friend was teaching any fool unfortunate enough to cross her path a good lesson. No doubt her friend would be owning the situation as she always did. Ishtar smiled, why was she worried about Falaq? If anything, Falaq was probably worried about her.
She wanted to tell her, I'm fine, Alhumdulillah. I am travelling unknown lands with an unknown man. I haven't washed in days and my hands have become rough. But I feel more alive! In the vast oasis before us the birds do not care for my riches, the animals do not admire my robes. I feel more free, ya Falaq. I hope you do too.
She wanted to create an adventure, the kind her friend made every day they spent together in Taghrid.
She'd have to make her own adventures now.
"Amaan?" She called suddenly, turning to where the Berber stood grooming his camel.
His head turned at her behest, deep brown eyes meeting hers in question. She tried very hard to ignore his beauty, a resolution she had made ever since she had accepted he could never be hers. But she noticed- she noticed the way his tresses were arranged over his shoulders and behind his chiseled back. She noticed the nobility of his clean shaven jaw line, and the wisdom in the set of his brow. It was not just his appearance that attributed to him, but his characteristics that were displayed in his quiet speech and graceful actions. She blinked when he responded, amusedly waiting for her answer.
"Yes?"
"Let us leave these people here to quarrel" she grinned mischievously, "and let us take to the town for supplies ourselves. We can surely make a feat out of it!"
Amaan smiled at her sudden change in demeanour, from being exasperated at her parents to being cluelessly excited about a stroll into the Numidian settlement.
But her excitement was contagious, and he found himself agreeing.
"Then you will need to...cover" he handed her his huge shawl, "cover face and hands...your skin is too light"
And it was true- her skin was far too fair to escape their notice. For once, he would be well acquainted. But there was another peril for him. Something else that made his stomach churn.
Recognition.
They were coming closer and closer to Kirthan (Cirta), his home. Home, that presumed him dead after they had received no word for him for so many moons. And the Masaesyli tribes would not take kindly to an elite son of the Massylii tribes.
He could cause the innocent caravan to fall in even more danger than they already were in.
Which was why he'd innocently suggested they travel on horses- much faster than camels.
He and Ishtar needed to be disguised enough to trade their camels for horses and be on their way, skirting Macri and navigating their way to Kirthan.
As he began instructing her how to devise her appearance, his thoughts were far away from the present. He could see the woman before him, so naive, and yet so full of life, in another world where she would be the same but with more experience of this world and a set of maturity in her. She would be the most beautiful woman in his world, if things had been that way. She would have understood his demons, she would have brought him out from his past and have him excited for his future.
Amaan smiled as she joked around, but a deep sadness buried itself within him. His faults had dictated the direction of his future. He could not drag Ishtar into it.
But he could allow himself this one adventure, could he not?
Ishtar covered herself as best as she could in Amaan's enormous shawl. It was surprisingly a relief from the heat, and she found herself prodding at the strangely course material of the Berber's which was impervious to the relentless sun. By the time she was done, only her eyes remained unconcealed. She rubbed kohl around them, and drew patterns between her eyebrows as Amaan instructed by drawing in the dirt. Finally, he seemed to be satisfied with her look.
They tethered the camels together and set off before Ishtar could get in trouble for her ridiculous escapade.
She grinned as they moved further and further away from her family - she was positively filled with excitement!
T H E T R I O, رَبِيع ٱلْأَوَّل
I N U M I D E N K I N G D O M, N I L E
Oh Allah, do not make me among those who lose hope in your plans.
Falaq's head echoed with the prayer that she kept repeating to herself.
For surely there was a great plan at work, for her to be placed in the company of two assassins.
One of whom, for a reason unknown to her, loathed her with every fibre of his being. And the other, who seemed only to awaken from his impassive slumber when a calamity hit.
They had been riding for two days now, only stopping to give respite to their steeds. Hudayfa had not spoken a word to her since their fateful encounter in the Fort and neither had Falaq spoken a word to him. Their moods were foul enough without having to tolerate mere speech.
Nuh was as impassive as ever, seeming to settle into a marble-like exterior if he was not prodded with a question or a command. Only his strangely orange eyes seem to kindle with life, glowing beneath his hood.
Falaq's wrist was worsening by the day. With no ointment to reduce the swelling, and no one to assist her with tightening the crude cast she had made for herself and hold the joint in place to mend, it was a dark future for her hand. The materials she needed had ridden away with the army at Taimur's behest.
She kept her hand as still as she could in her lap, hoping only that they would catch up with the army soon enough for her brothers to assist her cause.
On the third night they had run out of the miserly supply of meat in Hudayfa's saddle bags, leaving them with seasoning and dried fruits.
As Falaq separated her cashews and walnuts one-handedly, she could feel her fiancé's burning glare on her. She was determined not to meet that glare- it was now her life's mission to wholly ignore him. After all, that was what he wanted.
"I am going to hunt" came Hudayfa's irritable statement after a short while of this.
"My Leige," Nuh rose immediately to his feet.
"Remain here. I would...prefer to hunt alone"
Falaq rolled her eyes. Of course he would. Anything to get away from her.
Only when Hudayfa disappeared with his bow and arrows did she raise her gaze from the assortment in front of her and into the fire blazing before them. Behind it, opposite her sat Nuh, head bowed as though in prayer. Only his orange eyes were visible under his hood, and Falaq found the way they matched the flames eerily beautiful.
Who was Nuh, when he was not a loyal Right Hand? Who hid inside his impassive exterior?
"Why-" his fiery orbs flickered up to hers, "-are you staring at me?"
Falaq smiled sheepishly, but he could not see the way her cheeks lifted under the veil or how her eyes crinkled in the dark.
She cleared her throat after a moment, rummaging around for an excuse.
"I find the colour of your eyes unusual" she finally answered truthfully, picking away at the dried fruit in front of her. Her stomach growled in an embarrassing fashion.
Nuh did not reply to her observation, and Falaq's curiosity returned tenfold.
"Who are you?" She blurted out, the words stumbling over one another. The same question, but asked by another, echoed back in her mind. She pushed him out of her mind.
The Right Hand raised a jet black eyebrow.
"I mean" she clarified, "tell me more about your background. My Ustad was a Right Hand like you-"
"I am aware"
Falaq frowned at his nonchalance. Didn't Nuh ever wish he had someone to talk to? He was still human after all.
She withheld her sigh, instead gathered her skirts and dragged her weary self to Batal. Balqis, the big black mare tossed her huge head in dramatic alarm as Falaq approached, and Falaq gave her a wide berth. Her ever loyal stallion however, greeted her with a soft whicker, blowing hot air onto her head as she hugged him. Batal was the one being that kept her connected to all that she has considered home in this foreign land.
"I miss Ustad, Batal" she whispered into his coat, "I miss Houssam. I miss Ishtar. I miss Amaan. I even miss that bloody old fool, Zakariyya"
"I miss my apprentice" Nuh's low voice joined her reminiscing, "but I cannot lament over who is not here when I can do nothing about it"
She glanced around at him in surprise, unaware he had joined them. He did not meet her gaze, instead stroking his own chestnut stallion's neck.
"My eyes are an unusual shade" he answered her earlier question, "I do not know why. No member of my family had eyes like these. You and I are perhaps, not quite so different in that regard"
Falaq noted his past tense when he spoke of his family. She could feel the fragility of their conversation in the air. One wrong question, one slip of the tongue and the Nuh that had peaked out to greet her would withdraw back into his shell, leaving her terribly alone. So she called him out on the least harmful subject.
"Your apprentice?"
"Yes" He exhaled, finally allowing his gaze to settle on her, "he is called Hadi, and he is of seven summers. Now perhaps eight. I had to leave him behind when we left for the expedition. It is no place for a child"
"Is this your first expedition?"
Nuh shook his head, almost smiling ruefully, "no" was all he said.
"Did you get to choose your apprentice?"
He half smiled, "yes"
"Why did you choose him, Hadi?"
"Because the little bastard was flooding the grounds with tears and would have been soundly beaten had I not intervened"
So you do have a heart.
"I did"
Falaq blushed beetroot, unaware she had just voiced her thoughts. She fiddled with Batal's mane to save herself the embarrassment of having to meet Nuh's amused orbs.
"If I may rudely interrupt" her fiancé's deep voice emerged out of the darkness making both of them turn to him, "a meal is to be prepared"
He was walking toward them with an animal slung over his back, clasped there with one hand while the other was wrapped soundly around his bow. Falaq tried not to admire him as he approached - and failed.
Hudayfa moved gracefully, perfectly, like a tiger- the sole king of the jungle. He radiated power, agility and intelligence. His eyes kindled with the ever-brewing storm, his face set in a look of nobility. He was a truly beautiful man, with the ugliest heart Falaq had ever chanced to meet.
He settled down before the fire and draped the carcass across his knees. Withdrawing a knife from his belt, he began to skin the animal- a gazelle of some kind Falaq noticed- with ease. He'd done this a hundred times before, she imagined.
Nuh aided his prince, slicing out choice pieces of meat while discarding the others. Falaq felt rather useless, so she settled for trying to make some kind of marinade from their feeble stash of nuts and spices and dried fruits.
As Nuh passed her the meat, she rubbed the marinade over it and struck it through the iron skewers Hudayfa had produced from his saddle bags. What he did carrying them around she did not know, but she was not complaining.
It only struck her once the meat began to cook in the flames and the scent wafted out in the smoke to greet them, that she and Hudayfa were not quarrelling. They were not glaring at one another, and they weren't expressing heir disgust. Simple work seemed to have put them in their own thoughts, quietening down the tension they both felt.
"Using one hand is slowing you down" Nuh commented as they prepared another skewer. His gaze flickered to where her injured hand lay dormant.
Hudayfa stopped what he was doing. Falaq noticed the movement in her periphery and mentally cursed. Why did this brief moment of peace have to end so soon?
"Let it be" she brushed the Right Hand's hawkish attention away and reached for another piece of meat.
"Falaq" Hudayfa's quiet voice rippled through the night air, sending shockwaves through her narrow frame.
She froze. It was the first time he had ever called her by her name. The sound was so foreign, the tone unworldly in his otherwise harsh throat.
His silver gaze was not on her face but on her hand, and for once his brow was not furrowed in anger.
"Show me" he ordered.
But all Falaq could see before her was the man who had put her wrist in its current state in the first place. His beautiful features ebbed away before her eyes, his harsh words ringing back in her ears.
You will see this pride, dignity and innocence of yours burn at my hands one by one. That is my promise to you ya daughter of Khalifa, and I never fall short of my word.
Hudayfa noticed the shift in her aura. He felt the return of her anger and hate, when it had been absent just moments ago. He felt nothing inside his empty heart except the need for retribution. He would right his wrong, and give her no foothold on him.
Those fateful eyes narrowed. The fire in which their dinner cooked reflected in them, setting them ablaze.
He almost smirked. The fury of a woman was the fire of the east.
"No"
Her reply was short and sharp. A warning to the assassin to stay in his own space. The meat in her grasp was being squeezed into mush without her knowing it. She roughly jabbed it onto a skewer.
She noticed his preparation to address her once again.
"If you will excuse me" she grit out before fleeing his toxic presence.
Nuh and Hudayfa watched her take refuge with the horses, gazing up at the night sky as though in prayer.
"You knew about the injury" Hudayfa surmised to Nuh, who nodded sagely.
"Formally you are my master, but before that you were always my friend" Nuh answered with a shrug, "and I am well aware of your activities...and your guilt"
"It is not my way to harm a woman"
"Not with your hands"
"She is no ordinary woman"
"That she is not"
"I despise her Nuh" Hudayfa murmured, and the truth easily rolled past his lips, "I despise every truth she brings with her. But I should never have lost control"
Nuh chuckled, and the sound surprised Hudayfa who had not seen his friend make that sound in a long time.
"Ya Hud" Nuh smiled his crooked smile, and Hudayfa's heart hurt at seeing it return after so many moons, "I rejoice in your loss of control. At least you have something to lose"
He inhaled sharply at his friend's words. Nuh's truths had rendered him a living man dead. Nothing to keep him alive except the absence of the angel of death. Nuh was simply waiting, trying to die in every battle and failing. His own skill was his curse, the reflexes drilled into his heart and mind.
Hud's truths had left him with one last task before he was allowed to die, though the latter was all he wanted, all he wished for.
They had both become stone over the years, as each truth buried itself as an arrow in their hearts which refused to stop beating.
"How can you not despise her, Nuh?" He asked with a hint of desperation. Anything to relieve him of the burden on his head, "you have a right"
Nuh shrugged, smile fading far too soon, "it is not her fault. You will not understand as I do. But I know, and you know, that the girl is innocent in all this"
"Innocent" Hudayfa tasted the word, whilst Nuh only met his gaze unflinchingly.
He rose to his feet wordlessly as his Right Hand returned tending to the meat. He wanted to see Nuh smile again, but he knew that when he himself had forgotten how to do it he could not demand it of his friend. So he turned to face his current truth, who was currently sitting cross legged before her horse, whom she had brought to the ground. His large head lay between her arms, and she murmured soft things to the beast. He was once again reminded strongly of something he could not fully remember. Every time he caught her unawares he seemed to see something that stirred his very soul. The question he had asked in wonder echoed in the back of his head. Who are you?
But this question did not belong to her. It belonged to someone else. Her face, he could not recall. Her presence, he could not place. But the effect the blurry figure had on him gripped his attention. She was simply a mystery he wished to solve, perhaps then he could find his solace.
Falaq noticed that monster's attempts to join her in her solitude. He had a wrong to right, but she would not allow him that pleasure. Had he been asleep the past seven days as her hand throbbed in agony?
"Let me see" Hudayfa tried again, strangely, eerily, suspiciously gentle.
She glared up at him however, the scorching look enough to give him her answer.
He surprised her by crouching next to her. With Batal's head in her lap, she was unable to move away fast enough.
"I need to see it" Hudayfa said quietly.
"Why?" She hissed angrily, "so you can severe my hand from my arm? So you can chop off my fingers? Honestly, how thick headed do you believe me to be?!"
"Show-me-" he growled, patience lost at her outburst.
"No"
She did not anticipate he would dare to touch her again but he did. He reached forward so quickly she did not have time to react, strong hand plucking her injured wrist and tugging it toward him. The sudden movement startled Batal, who shot up and pranced away whinnying, leaving Falaq and Hudayfa in the dust.
Falaq's shocked gaze moved between him and his hand on her wrist.
"Now that was not so difficult, was it?" he said coolly, gaze fluttering down to her wrist. He gently pushed her sleeve just high enough to reveal the injury.
They both barely withheld a grimace.
The skin that had once been gold was now a mottled green and purple, and swollen angrily. The redness in her fingers indicated the extent of the aggravated injury.
Breathing calmly, Hudayfa ran a finger over the tender skin. Falaq had to stop breathing in order not to yell out in pain. It was a trick Ustad had taught her. His teachings floated through her dazed head, and she gripped on to it with everything she had. Never let your enemy identify your weakness. Protect it with everything you have. This is the religion of battle.
Hudayfa's gaze flickered back to hers a few times as he inspected it, expecting her to show some emotion. But she did not, and she revelled in the questions that no doubt ran through his head.
"It hurts?" He asked, as though to make sure he wasn't imagining her utter lack of pained expressions.
"Not at all" she replied smartly and neither of them believed her.
"Nuh" he called, "bring me our medicinal supplies"
They were brought, and to Falaq's utter shock her fiancé, the one responsible for her injury, set to work.
She could not handle it.
"What are you doing?" She hissed, as he rubbed ointment over the swelling. She wanted to wiggle out of his grasp but it automatically tightened, anticipating her attempt. His fingers on her burned, his presence suffocated her. It was too much for her pride to accept that the one who had given her this injury was now allowed to tend to it.
"It has never been my way" he murmured, not looking at her, "to raise my hand on a woman. I do not take kindly to rules being broken, even if they are my own"
As he spoke, it was as though a spell had been cast over her. Time seemed to stop as she took in the sight before her. The way his brow was no longer furrowed and his lashes cast shadows down his cheeks as he worked, the slight dentures below his eyes from endless travel, the sharp black blades of his growing stubble, everything made him seem more an angel than a man.
If I can think that about a mere man, imagine how the true angels appear, Falaq thought in awe, indeed my Lord has created His creations with utmost perfection.
"You broke your rules" she whispered, "and yet you are the prosecution for yourself? How is it fair?"
Hudayfa allowed himself to acknowledge the woman's intelligence for a moment. Silver to gold, they clashed in every way. He both loathed and was fascinated by the fact.
"Listen to me carefully, daughter of Khalifa" he finished wrapping up her hand and began to secure the knot, "the world you have known is not the world you have entered into now. Nothing is fair. There is no fantasy before you to believe in. Draw your head out of the heavens and enter your reality"
He finished the knot with a final tug, and released her hand with a subtle urgency to not brand himself or her any further.
"I have settled my score" his sinister stormy eyes bore into hers once more, "I owe you nothing. I will never put myself in your debt again. And that means," his voice descended to a low sound, a warning, "you watch yourself should you fall in mine. I am not as merciful as you"
The woman mere inches away from him did not display a hint of fear at his warning. He searched her brow, her eyes, the bridge of her nose for any indication she would heed his words, but he found none. Her golden orbs shimmered at him from beneath her inky black lashes, and for a moment she looked like a painting. The beast in his chest roared in fury, but he painted his face carefully expressionless when her equally low voice emitted from behind the veil.
"It is precisely that," she responded, "that will be your downfall, Hudayfa Aulaad è Ibrahim. Your belief that you know yourself. You slipped once already, you will slip again. You watch yourself, lest you become among the merciful and prove yourself wrong"
Silver to gold, the storm flashed through the night sky only to meet the blinding resilience of the rising sun.
He gazed down onto the woman's face. Her brow was calm, her golden eyes deep with a wisdom he was beginning to realise she possessed, as she unwaveringly gazed back at him. He inhaled, jaw tightening at the proximity he had brought upon themselves. With the grace of a cold-hearted assassin he rose up to his feet and turned his back on her. Before he left her to her devices however, he turned his head to the side very slightly, one silver eye visible to her under the shadows of his inky black hair.
"We shall see"
T H E C A R A V A N, رَبِيع ٱلْأَوَّل
P R E - M A C R I
Amaan's heart beat wildly. They were in the thick of the market place, and Ishtar was nowhere to be seen. He had lost her while haggling for prices of their last camel, relieved they had gone by unexposed, when he'd turned around to find her gone.
Now he stood, trying to maintain several high strung horses, whilst trying to find his ever so easily distracted partner in crime.
Where is that woman? He thought in exasperation and panicky state of mind.
"You there, have you seen a woman about yay high, wrapped in a matching shroud?" He asked again and again, but each shook their heads - there were currently hundreds of women wrapped in such shrouds.
"Ishtar!" He whisper yelled at women passing by, hoping one was the woman he was looking for.
They blushed at his frantic look and giggled as they walked away.
Finally he spotted her.
She emerged out of stall, merrily gazing around the trinkets. She was so covered, he doubted anyone would even notice her skin colour. He sighed in relief.
"Ishtar!" He boomed out over the crowd. She turned to the sound of his voice, and began to hurry toward him, no doubt smiling under her veil.
In her hurry she did not take heed of the hundreds of steps. Amaan groaned inwardly as something yanked at her trailing shroud, and it unwrapped itself revealing a lamb like Ishtar.
A collective hush fell throughout the market place. Amaan hastily tethered the horses and marched over the the woman who stood frozen as though caught in the act of doing something naughty.
He grabbed her arm and marched her away.
They needed to get out of here, fast.
"Amaan I am so sorry-!" Ishtar kept apologising as Amaan untethered the horses and began to push through the crowd that was now beginning to point and call at them.
"Just keep moving" he muttered, and Ishtar nodded eagerly, almost running to keep up with his long strides.
"You there! Halt!"
"What are they saying?" Ishtar asked, glancing behind.
"Don't worry" he replied, "just keep moving"
"But- they're coming our way-"
"Just-"
"Amaan they're really angry" Ishtar said in a small voice, like a child glancing behind at an angry teacher.
Amaan suddenly halted. Before Ishtar could open her mouth again he swiftly picked her up and seated her atop one of the horses, despite her shriek of surprise.
"Here we go" he muttered, untethering the animal.
"Amaan-?!"
He suddenly grinned- a strange rush of exhilaration filling him. The sight seemed to knock her breath away.
"Hold tight" he winked, and slapped the rump of the beast.
Ishtar's screams could be heard as the horse galloped away.
With a small smile, he turned back to face his pursuers. With his little distraction out of the way, he could take on anything.
Some interesting developments between our trio and an adventure for Ishtar and Amaan! What do y'all reckon? Is Nuh warming up a little? Will Hud and Falaq ever stop hating each other? If you enjoyed it, make sure to VOTE!