**Perhaps death is a metaphor to remind us of a secret of life we failed to notice**Mahmoud Darwish
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Every inch of his skin burned, and Faris knew no water on earth or remedy could alleviate the pain. Every inch of his skin felt as if it was being peeled off by a hot rod. Just as the knight perceived that he was fatally wounded, Faris slumped forward, hitting the dirt face down in the pool of his blood.
Upon the sight of his fallen master, Tufan galloped up to Faris's numb body and started to circle him. The wind stopped completely. It tiptoed closer to the fallen knight with its eyes wide open. Gradually, the aged member of the wind caressed Faris's face, their movements caused the hair on his face, to move. When at last, the knight groaned, the wind sighed in relief.
Faris coughed then spit blood. The crimson water trickled down his chin and coated the tiny stones he lay his head upon. He could not move, every part of his body felt as if someone had ripped it open then sewed it back, while he was alive, bleeding.
Quickly, the wind examined the knight's wounds; upon investigating the injuries. The younger members of the wind breathed a sigh of relief as well. The knight's injuries were not that deep. However, the wind knew that the trauma of Nasser's defeat had caused such a devastating response in Faris.
The Borkan knight sucked in air to satisfy his parched lungs. His arms and legs still worked, remarkably the sword had missed his spine.
Faris opened his eyes and saw that his vision had turned blurry from the blood in his eyes. He blinked twice then prayed. "Ya Allah." He whispered. "I implore you. Your slave calls upon you to permit him to live a bit longer. Allow me to avenge the widows of my tribe. Allow your servant to guard the children and women of his tribe." He murmured, feeling his throat constrict.
Subhan Allah.
After a short while, Faris felt a new determination to sparkle in his heart like the rising sun upon those words. He seized the lower edge of his sword and struck the tip in the earth, and slowly rose to his quivering feet. The world swayed before his eyes. He murmured the names of his Lord under his breath and blinked his eyes.
His back and his thigh felt as if a block of nails and rocks crawled on his skin. Faris felt weakness eclipse his sense as blood oozed from his wounds. His body commenced quivering from loss of blood.
The knight blinked a few times against the blood that rushed in his eyes. Once his sight became clear, Faris took note of the eery silence. Confused, he frowned and lifted his head in time to see two of his spies drag Marwan out from the mud house.
It was then he moved his head to his left and saw Jabbir, Khalid, and a few of Rashideen knights holding Marwan's men hostage by either their collars or placing the tip of their swords on their throat. Badr. The clever man had known that Faris's valiant knights could kill, but not demolish Marwan's men.
Slowly, Faris moved his gaze towards his brother, Nasser, and swallowed. Abdullah was crouching before Nasser's body attempting to see if he was still breathing.
At this sight, he felt the world dwindle before his eyes. Suddenly, the blood that seeped from his wounds the indescribable pain vaporized, and all that mattered that moment was death.
Marwan's gory ending.
He took a few steps getting closer to his target and ushered for his men to free Marwan. The spies looked at their leader in hesitation since Faris was severely wounded. He, however, disregarded their concern and stepped closer until Marwan was at an arm's reach.
Faris glanced at his man, who stood at Marwan's right. "Give him your sword," he ordered.
One of his spies looked at Marwan then back at Faris and then carried out the order.
"Lift your sword, Marwan. Fight me. No more fleeing." Faris barked, tightening his grip around his sword. His fingers slipped on the bloody handle.
Marwan gaped at Faris, muddled, not comprehending what to do.
"Lift it." Knight of knights roared.
That is when the gates of hell unlatched.
Marwan made the first move. He charged like a deadly serpent. Fast and extremely dangerous. Knight of knights attacked with just as much fury. Blow after blow, their sword clashed, rapacious for blood.
The sparks of swords shined together with the thunderbolts. Faris's men stepped back, perplexed. How on earth can an injured man fight like this? How can he wield his sword like a beast?
A thin layer of sand rose in the air as sweat beaded Marwan's forehead. Faris could not stop. He struck, and struck, and struck until his lungs screamed for air. Each strike wailed Adel's death. Each blow soaked itself with Nasser's blood.
Kill.
Kill.
Kill.
The ominous spells chanted in Faris's brain, uttered by beasts, perhaps his demons.
Suddenly, Marwan struck in such a manner that Faris staggered to his side, panting. "Your wound has made you forgot how to use your sword." Marwan laughed, his chest heaving.
"You think you can terminate me?" Faris merely stared at his prey. Dead eyes. Nothing no remorse, no pain, was detected in them.
"You are wounded and weak. Killing you would be like drinking water." Marwan smirked.
"Not all birds want to fly with eagles. Some know their place. While others," Faris tipped his sword towards Marwan. "Are foolish to think otherwise." And this time, Faris made the first move.
Once again, blade against blade. Virtue against vice. And just when the men around them attempted to intervene, both Faris and Marwan's blades clashed with such an extraordinary force that Marwan's sword shattered in half, leaving Faris's sword by his thick throat.
However, that did not stop Faris al fursan. With a growl, he tossed his sword aside and punched Marwan disregarding his ripped knuckle or the blood that decorated his back.
"Where is your army now? Where is your master now? Fight me." He barked.
Marwan was on his back with Faris's form looming over him, and his right knee pressed against the culprit's chest. Enraged, the Borkan left the man on the ground and walked to snatch his sword a foot away from them. Faris turned to face Marwan.
When the thief saw Faris's sword, he abruptly scrambled to grab his broken one. Still, on his knees, he raised the remaining of his sword as Faris booted him in the belly.
Marwan groaned and fell on his back, crawling away.
Faris did not stop, his sword, commenced its assault on Marwan. The thief attempted to block Faris's constant attacks and slithered further away. Having had enough of this pathetic game, Faris bend down, snatched the man's sword, and hurled it away, then delivered a jaw-breaking punch to Marwan's face.
The knight grabbed Marwan by the collar and set him straight. "Who is your master?" Faris drove his sword in Marwan's shoulder. "Who is the spineless creature?"
The culprit coughed blood. "You do not have to try so hard, prince. You see, I informed him if I go down, it shall be his downfall as well." He smiled his teeth coated with blood and dirt.
Faris frowned. Marwan slowly lifted his left hand to show the ring on his finger. When Faris's eyes landed on the ring, he staggered back shell-shocked. If not for the sun who attempted to peek from behind the clouds, Faris's world would have transformed pitch black.
No, this cannot be possible. Faris stood there a foot away from his prey with his sword by his side and eyes on Marwan.
"What is the matter, ya Faris?" Badr questioned, astonished at the knight's reaction. The Rashideen had moved closer; he could see Faris's pallid face.
"Aa' mi Khalifa's ring. That is his seal." Shaheen responded, not believing his eyes.
"You dare lie to me. You ponder, I will believe in such outrageous notions." Faris came into Marwan's face and yelled.
The devilish grin still displayed on Marwan's face. "Indeed, the shock is magnificent, prince," He cocked his head to the side. "Then tell me who was the individual who apprised you of the boy's death?"
Faris knew he meant Saif. It cannot be, not his uncle. Not the man who taught him how to be a knight. Not the man who taught him how to defend his tribe.
"It was Khalifa, was it not? Now tell me, prince, we dumped the body of the boy on the outskirts of the tribe, then what on earth can a leader like him be doing there?" Marwan hoisted an eyebrow, finding Faris's discomfort amusing.
Abruptly, Faris grabbed his throat. "One more word against him and I shall rip your tongue out," The knight yearned to end this man's life before he could degrade his uncle further. However, Faris needed to be patient if he wanted to know who the man with the strings was.
"Ah, I see you still do not believe them." Then the man pulled out a pouch from his vest. He opened the sack and tilted it. Marwan kept his eyes on Faris as the gold coins fell on his lap.
Ya, Allah.
Those coins had Sheikh Khalifa's seal as well. Those were the coins his uncle gifted to knights who finished their training and joined Faris's knights to protect their tribe. Those coins could also be seen in one of the chests in his room when Faris had completed his training at sixteen summers.
Why would Sheikh Khalifa betray his tribe? What would he achieve from carnage and bloodshed?
"He will be the leader of the Borkan tribe. He will be you. Faris," Marwan ran his tongue over his bloody lips as if reading the questions in Faris's eyes. "Before you slaughter me. I wanted to ask, did your beautiful spouse like my gift?" And laughed.
With a roar knight of knights dropped his sword, snatched Marwan's broken one. Instantly, his other hand grabbed the man's neck, and with that, he allowed the broken tip to rip Marwan's flesh. Once blood colored the sword, Faris kept stabbing the man. Each stab reminded him of Raghad's whimpers. Every time he felt the blade hit bone, her tears flashed before his eyes, and the next blow was more powerful, went deeper.
Just like a flash, Faris grabbed his sword, with the broken blade still in Marwan's chest, he lifted his sword and then in a swift movement beheaded the spineless dog. When the man's head rolled on the ground, Faris lifted his bloody hand then wiped it over his face and bellowed in utter fury.
Faris's form trembled, causing him to shut his eyes for a while. He wanted to bring Marwan back and kill him again for mentioning his Raghad, for Adel, for his beloved sibling, Nasser. He wanted to gift him a worse death a gorier death. When the roaring of his blood lulled a little, he opened his eyes in time to see Badr rip Khalifa's ring and collect the coins from the dead man as evidence.
"Nasser." The name left his lips, and quickly the elder Borkan sibling made his way to Abdullah, who now had Nasser's head resting on his lap. Upon reaching them, Faris's form swayed, and he shoved his sword into the earth to steady himself.
"I-is he...?" Knight of knights trailed off unable to complete.
Abdullah looked up at his leader then swallowed. Crimson water was everywhere on his body, his blood, Marwan's blood. Abdullah flinched as fresh blood trickled from Faris's forehead and swam in his right eye. "Nasser is severely injured, ya Faris," When the words left his lips, Abdullah noticed how Faris inhaled deeply. "If we move him, he dies, and if we keep him here any longer, he will die."
Frustrated and anguished, Faris ran his left hand over his messy hair and groaned. Whatever move he makes; he will kill his sibling either way. One side of his heart burned in utter rage and shock from his uncle's betrayal. Meanwhile, the other part begged him to take Nasser back to their mother.
"You must depart, Faris," Badr's voice came from his side. He had his sword in the sheath now. "Some of us will remain here for our dead and injured ones. One of my cousins," He ushered a man who stood alongside Jabbir. "Has a bit of knowledge on wounds and herbs. Alhamdulillah, he has fetched some for us."
"What about them, then?" Sultan questioned, glaring at the remaining men of Marwan.
"Do as you please with them," Faris ordered, not looking at his way. The shuffling of feet and silent screams were an answer to his order. "Will he survive?" Faris questioned the Rashideen, Badr's cousin, who now sat next to Nasser.
The man did not respond at once, for he was busy examining Nasser's wounds. "It is true what the man said," the Rashideen glanced at Abdullah. "If we move him now, he shall die. Whatever we are to do, it shall be done here, on this battleground."
"Hamid, nurse him as you would nurse me," Badr instructed. Hamid peered at Badr for a short while then nodded.
"Sultan, Shaheen, and Jabbir, you shall accompany us back to the tribe," Faris vocalized, cleaning his sword with whatever clean part he could find on his robe.
Inhaling, Faris commenced murmuring the verses of the Quran under his breath to dominate his wrath. He was a prince, a leader and if he broke down in front of his knights then it shall be wise to bestow the title to someone else. But, by, Allah his wounds were tormenting him. Now that the rush of battle had subsided, his world would tilt now and then. He could not put the tears of pain and terrible burns at bay anymore.
The wind swirled around him. It peaked at Faris from over Badr's shoulder, and its lips wobbled. At the sight of blood in his right eye, it dropped its gaze. The action caused the younger ones to caress Faris's forehead, causing his hair to cling on his wet cheeks and entwine around his throat.
Ya, Allah. How can someone so prepossessing be so wounded, so overwhelmed?
"Prince," Faris halted when Hamid called out to him. He turned to him. "You have lost a lot of blood. The journey to the Borkan tribe shall drain you. You must allow me to at least bind up your wounds."
Faris shook his head. "Put whatever energy you have left onto saving my brother. Do not fret about me."
Badr placed his hand on Faris's shoulder and noticed the almost inaudible groan that escaped his lips. That is when he perceived that his hand rested on the shoulder he had wounded, instantly, Badr lessened the pressure. "What he says is true. It is not only the journey but what is to come after that you shall keep in mind as well."
"Very well." Faris exhaled.
Hamid turned to Abdullah. "Remove Nasser's armour and fetch some water from one of these houses. We must clean his wounds first."
"In sha Allah." Abdullah nodded. He quickly took off his battered robe, bunched it then placed it under Nasser's head. Once done, Abdullah darted to search for water.
"Let us start." Hamid turned towards Faris a bit unnerved.
Faris clenched his jaw. He desired to return to his tribe and confront his uncle for the sinister deeds. Why on earth would someone like Khalifa turn against not only his brother, Sheik Mubarak but, the whole tribe as well?
Indeed, it is true. Betrayal never comes from your foes. It is always the loved ones who rip you into pieces.
Slowly the knight leaned his head back and gazed up towards the sky. The clouds were still present. However, the sun shined behind them, omnipotent. Faris's eyes became dark like the inky clouds over him. If Khalifa yearned to eliminate his tribe, then the foolish man must walk over Faris's dead body to grasp his frivolous goals.
"Very well." He looked at Hamid, rolling his sleeves to his elbows.
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