Chapter 13
سعر اÙØرÙØ©-The price of Freedom
When every dream was of him, she could only wake whilst saying his name. He began to consume her in a way she had never felt before. Forgetting of her imprisonment, now her greatest punishment was being so close, yet so far.
"And you are sure we will not get caught?" Laila asked. This was not the first time she had sneaked out of a palace, but it would be the first time she feared being caught. "Of course not Amirah, in fact, I have made all precautions. You are not to be disturbed today at all." Hafsa smirked, proud of herself.
Since the night Laila had returned from her 'walk', she had not been the same. Her days and nights were spent thinking of only one person. If only this sickness had a name, it would've been easier to find a cure. Residing within these four walls any longer would prove her illness to be fatal, she needed an escape.
"Stay behind me," Hafsa said as they approached the gate to the palace.
She gave her name, and then another name which was unknown. The guards briefly glanced at them before allowing them to exit. As soon as they left the coolness of the palace walls, they were greeted with the intense heat of the desert.
There was a straight path before them which led off into streets filled with small huts and stalls. Palms tress were dotted around the elaborately decorated buildings, providing shade to the people as they tried to earn their livings for the day.
The sound of shopkeepers shouting their deals of the hour filled the air, combined with the singing and laughter of children running through the rusty roads without a care in the world. As beautiful as it was big, the city of Gold at its peak.
Far bigger than the small markets of Al-Shujae. Most of the people here were dressed in different coloured fabrics, patterned with unique tribal embroidery. Only when you looked closely, you would see that others were dressed in rags, outshined by their wealthier counterparts.
"Come, let me take you to Maryam's home!" Hafsa almost jumped in excitement, taking Laila's hands as she guided her through the streets. It would seem the small town girl was now an expert in city life.
A young boy suddenly approached, becoming more familiar the closer he came.
"Isa!" Laila ran towards him, her affection overriding her senses. He jumped into her arms, recognising her despite her veil. His mother, Maryam, was closely behind. Her eyes were bright with happiness as she waved at the women.
"Laila!" She shouted, opening her arms as she embraced her. Their uniting was short as Maryam quickly rushed then into her home.
It was small but it was beautiful. They sat on a large rug, tea already waiting for them to drink. Laila looked up in confusion. "I was pre-warned that I may have visitors," she gave a knowing smile to Hafsa who shied away. The tea was refreshing, a great companion whilst they attempted small talk.
"So tell me Laila, what do you wish to see first?" Maryam offered her an almond biscuit. Laila shrugged, taking a bite of the delicious treat. "I do not know what there is to see." She replied, her knowledge of the city was second to none, all she knew was that she could not leave.
"I know!" Hafsa suddenly shouted in excitement. "The tribute to the sultan!" She clapped her hands. "But first the bazaar! I loved the bazaar!" her eagerness filled the room, making even Laila enthusiastic.
"Will Isa come with us?" she asked as Maryam tensed. "My husband will be able to watch him." her face was masked with excitement, only her eyes able to give away distress.
Laila glanced at her, confused.
"He is on leave from the palace for the time being."
Leave?
Although wanting to question why, Laila knew more than any not to cross boundaries. They continued polite conversation before Hafsa could no longer contain her excitement. She was itching to go to the bazaar.
Maryam's home was not far from the bustling city centre. Laila noticed from the roof of her house you could even see the view of the river. It shone a beautiful blue under the intense light above it.
She wanted to visit. To feel the cool water under her feet as she basked in the warmth of the sun.
Ignoring her thoughts, she walked along her two friends as they crossed different stalls. Some were filled with nuts and dates whilst others were filled with the smell of exotic spices. They briefly stopped at a merchant who was selling beautiful painted crockery, Maryam being unable to walk away without admiring a good craftsman's work.
Laila glanced around, noticing that a crowd had gathered around the city square.
"Sheikh Usman! You have honoured us by visiting our market!" People surrounded him. He smiled at them, feeling the power of his presence.
His attention was briefly stolen by small children who gushed after him.
Laila watched from afar.
She was right after all, the people loved him.
He stood tall, standing out among the crowd.
He was different, completely different from what she had imagined. Instead of a barbarian there stood a gentle and humble man. One who she trusted, without being able to explain why.
He politely declined someone who offered him a date, raising his hand in thanks instead. Laila felt her heart skip as some women approached, giggling.
Usman did not glance their way, greeting them through mouth only. Her chin raised in pride.
That man was hers, whether he liked it or not.
His gaze suddenly turned to her, squinting as their eyes met. Laila froze, unable to look away. His smile disappeared, recognising her instantly. His face distorted to an expression she had never seen. She blinked, turning towards Hafsa. "He's here" she whispered in haste. Hafsa looked around, confused.
"Who?" she asked. Laila shook her head, unable to form words. There was a look of betrayal in his eyes, one she could not ignore.
"I am returning to Maryam's home" she proclaimed before running in the only direction she could recognise.
The busy bazaar was left behind as she began to enter empty alleyways, thinking only of Usman. Her footsteps were harsh, hurting her feet as she stomped on the ground. He consumed her mind, making her heart race before she realised she was lost. The heat turned cold as she turned suddenly, knowing he was here, watching her.
"How did you find me?" She asked, refusing to face him.
"These are my streets Laila. You cannot hide from me here." He began walking towards her. "Hide from me in the palace, perhaps I wouldn't find you." His voice seemed stretched, as though he was holding himself back.
"But here, I would find you in the darkest corner." His hand reached for hers, dragging her to him.
She attempted to pull away but he only held tighter.
"You tried to run from me." He said, not looking her way as he forced her forwards.
"I did not!" Laila shouted, offended by his accusation. He scoffed, suddenly turning and grabbing her shoulders.
"Do not lie to me."
He was seething.
She tried to leave.
A typical man to jump to his own conclusions.
"I am telling you I did not." She pleaded with him, begging for understanding.
Why did she even care what he thought?
Because it mattered now.
He dropped his hands, running them through his hair, frustrated. Her dark eyes neither glared, neither softened. They just stared, innocently. As though the owner of such beauty could never do any wrong.
He was afraid, he was lost.
"Interesting." A cold voice slithered into their conversation, like a snake which was ready to bite. Usman's eyes hardened, his grip tightening.
He knew that voice.
"Who knew I would find the great Usman whilst on my afternoon walk!" They both turned, Laila after Usman, she noticed how he slyly put her behind him, shielding her.
Nasir stood before them, a smirk on his face. "Do not think you can converse with me. Your relationship with the sultan means nothing." Usman pushed back at Laila as Nasir began to laugh, his head falling.
Laila was forced behind as he urged for her to go.
She stepped backwards, wanting to run yet not wanting to leave Usman. Her small action was sensed by the strange man who began to watch them again.
"And who might this be?" he asked whilst tilting his head, excited. Laila froze, grateful for her veil.
"None of your concern." Usman almost shouted. Despite not wanting too, he was defensive. Protecting Laila was his only intention, regardless of any other emotions.
Nasir shrugged, his smirk widening. "I simply wanted to know what woman is replacing your worthless bride." Usman felt his hand begin to form into a fist. Worthless, he said. "What was her name again?" he placed his index finger on his chin, feigning ignorance. Meanwhile, Usman felt his blood boil. Laila saw as his hand began to shake, his fingers so tightly held together.
"Ah!" Nasir began to laugh.
"Her name is Lai-" his words were immediately stopped as Usman reached forward and grabbed him by the neck, cutting him off.
"Do not speak her name from that dirty mouth of yours." He fought with himself, internally wanting to kill the man for even thinking of her.
Of saying her beautiful name, a name only his to say.
Nasir held onto Usman tightly, seeming to regret his words. Usman loosened his grip as Nasir put his hands up in surrender. He dropped him, watching the man fall onto the floor and rub his neck. There was a fury in his eyes, promising revenge for this humiliation.
"You forget who you once were Usman." Nasir taunted, watching as Usman grabbed hold of Laila and dragged her away. He ignored the cry of the man who raised him, part of him wanting to escape himself.
Laila squeezed her fingers in his hand, offering comfort or at least, hoping too.
He felt it.
Their walk back to the palace was hauntingly quiet. The twinge of betrayal still hung in the air. Usman was furious, perhaps more-so because Laila put herself into danger, she had met Nasir.
Why he had the sudden urge to protect her? He did not know, or maybe, he did not want to know.
Laila felt her head fall, her heart beating faster as they entered the palace walls. Usman did not need permission, he pulled her towards her own quarters. She was defenceless as he bought her into her room and finally released her.
There was silence, only the sound of their breathing.
"So you thought it acceptable to leave the palace without permission?!" Usman began to pace around the room, frustration emanating off of him. Laila sat back on her bed, not knowing if the beating of her heart was fear or excitement.
He did not even glance her way, focusing only on the walls or windows. His eyebrows were scrunched together, focusing hard.
If she could only read his thoughts...
Usman dared not look at her, only thinking of the worst. If he had not come on time today perhaps Laila would've ran, or worse, she would've met with Nasir alone.
Had he been wrong about her this whole time?
The woman he had grown to know was not a runner nor was she a coward.
"I trusted you too much... after all you are the daughter of an enemy tribe." His voice was cold, as though playfulness did not exist in him. "Or perhaps you do not trust me at all!" She stood up, approaching him. "Look at me!" she took hold of his hands, holding them in her own.
"Look at me in the eyes and tell me I would run from you Usman" her voice quietened, pleading to him.
It was as though whenever their eyes met, the world stopped in its place. There was a secret in this room which could not be spoken aloud. Their closeness was their escape, both within a bubble where no one else could enter.
They were safe.
"You..." he tightened his hold, his heart clenching.
"You ruined everything." Laila's hands dropped as he let go. He turned, not being able to look at her. "You ruined everything Laila of Al-Shujae." her eyes pooled as he turned to leave, destroying her hope.
It was odd to think that at one point, all she had wanted was to be away from this man. Yet as his shadow disappeared, the room went dark. As though all her light had diminished.
She had forgotten the sadness of losing a tribe, a best friend, a father. Instead, she only felt the pain of losing him. It seems a promise she had made so long ago was now broken, as entering his world had changed her own.
She had forgiven him after all.
---
It was cold where he was, surrounded by darkness. He was promised dignity yet, they treated him like an animal. In fact, the horses of Al-Shujae were treated better than this.
Yes he was given a better cell than other prisoners, but for a man who once lived like a prince, this was hell.
She saw a fire torch, taking hold of it as it aided her in the now empty dungeon.
Luring the guards out was not hard, they had already been bribed several times with only scraps of meat and pieces of gold. Their duty was for sale, and she had plenty to give.
Pulling the veil closer over her head, she began to approach the steel bars which separated her from the one she craved.
Abdul sat in the floor, so unlike himself. His head was down, covered by his hands. He would have seemed to be sleeping to those who did not know rage or revenge.
He was suffering.
She watched him, silently. For many years her eyes had searched for his, ached for them to meet her own so that she may profess her love. Perhaps even have it returned.
But he had always saw another. Laila.
She was perfect. Beautiful and kind, the ideal woman for any respectable man.
No woman could outshine the one compared to the moon in the night sky. The same moon shining down on Abdul till today, still haunting him.
She couldn't bare to see his state, clearing her throat to gain his attention. He didn't look up.
Annoyed, she repeated her action. This time he waved his hand to the side, wanting for her to leave.
"Look at me." She said, now frustrated. He scoffed, raising his head to see a veiled figure.
"And what am I supposed to see?" He asked sarcastically before lowering his gaze. She glared at him, tired of her invisibility in his eyes.
Standing tall, she threw off the veil. The sound of the fabric falling onto the cold floor caught his attention. She bought the fire torch closer, revealing her face.
"You!" He said, accusation in his eyes. She smirked, satisfied. He sees her.
He looked upon her, curious. Until, as though a spark had hit him, he sat up.
"Do you have a message for me?" He asked, hopeful.
The flame of hope which had carried her here began to fade. Even now, he only thought of one person. Laila.
"I am not here for her." She whispered, unable to contain her emotions. Abdul grunted in anger.
"Then leave!" He shouted, searching for something to throw at the intruder.
"No!" She suddenly shouted. He looked up, surprised.
"Laila abandoned you and you still want for her, you still search for her!" Her words forced him to stand, he approached the barrier.
"She did not abandon me!" He shouted back.
"Yes she did! She left you here knowing you would be imprisoned." Abdul tried to reach his hand out, to quieten the witch.
"She has made you into a fool Abdul, look at you! You were a warrior." She stepped back, tears pooling her eyes. Abdul covered his ears, unable to hear words against his love.
She didn't abandon him, she saved him. She had always saved him.
"Look at me." The girl pleaded. She reached through the bars, attempting to hold his cold hands.
"I have loved you and only you from the very beginning. You have been everything to me... everything." Her voice broke as she expressed her heart.
Abdul froze, taking in her words. He allowed their hands to meet, looking at her with confusion.
"But you knew my heart belonged to another." He said. She shook her head, holding back the rest of her tears.
"Yes but I cannot stop loving you simply because you loved another-" he snatched his hands away, interrupting her.
"You betray your friend." He said, disgusted.
"She loves another, I have heard of how he saved her from thieves and how they shared a tent. She has accepted her fate, even revelled in it." The words of accusation did not come without truth, rumours of the newly married couple had circulated amongst the tribes.
Abdul began to pace around the cell, hitting the walls and pulling on the bars which separated him from the rest of the world.
"Let me out! I will kill you, you lying wench!" He was full of fury, eyes bloodshot.
The girl watched silently, her tears drying. So it was decided, the path to salvation was to release her love from the chains of obsession.
He was obsessed with Laila.
And she must free him so that he can be hers.
"Abdul my love, I will come back for you." She promised him.
He continued to destroy his cell, cursing at her whilst not even looking her way.
She would help him, she would bring him back.
Wafiyyah grabbed the veil from the floor and covered herself again.
He would be hers, that was a promise.
Laila must die.