Chapter 14
٠أخÙØ°- Taken
The sweltering heat of the desert forced the sweat on Wafiyyah's forehead to fall carelessly down her face. She had been traveling for many days now. Veiled and nameless, her heart screaming for a love that she did not own.
Being unable to reveal herself as the former companion of Laila had only denied her the luxuries of her past. Despite being only a handmaiden, Wafiyyah could not contest that she was treated as well as a sister of the princess. Yet despite her gratefulness, the yearning for love was stronger.
Laila had always thought herself strong, but she was more-so smart. Smart enough to know not to speak against her father or the greed-ridden ministers. By following their commands, she had only earned herself a better life.
She was courageous, brighter than anyone Wafiyyah had ever known. And she detested her for it. Whether it was jealousy or envy or perhaps both, she did not know. All she knew was that she must rid Abdul of this curse.
Abdul, who was now too weak to fight.
The caravan on which she travelled was close to its destination. A sudden breeze was in the air, fighting against the relentless heat of the sun. Wafiyyah held her bag close, feeling for the small vial she had so desperately sought.
She swallowed her guilt, thinking only of the man who suffered in his cage. Her man who must be saved.
After it was done, she would take Abdul and leave. They would never be found again.
It was perfect. She believed it was, and that is why it would be.
-
Laila stared out of the balcony as her hair was gently brushed. Hafsa delicately began to plait her dark locks, shaking her head as she suddenly became overcome with her thoughts.
"What is it?" Laila asked, turning to face the young girl. Hafsa bit her lip, looking down as she stepped back. "Nothing." She swallowed, nervous. Laila sighed reassuringly, offering her an encouraging look. Hafsa finally looked up, aware that her next words should not be uttered, yet unable to stop.
"Amirah do you remember when you met me, I told you there were other girls like me?" she stepped closer to Laila, taking her hands in her own.
Laila nodded, remembering their less than pleasant introduction to one another.
"I think I may have found where they are." She was silent as she watched Laila's eyes widen. Her grip on Hafsa's hands suddenly tightened. "You must promise me you will not go to them." Her voice was now a low whisper. Hafsa shook her head, removing her hands.
"But we must save them" she almost shouted. Laila looked towards the door, fearing anyone would have heard.
She sighed, approaching Hafsa whilst placing a reassuring hand on her cheek. "I know we must, but no one will help us here." Her tone was discouraging, knowing that her current relationship with anyone of power was weak. They all hated her, perhaps even Usman.
No, definitely Usman.
"You ruined everything"
His harsh words still haunted her. She shook her head, forcing him to disappear as she had done since their last encounter.
"Hafsa, are you sure?" she asked. The little girl stood up, her eyes dark as she remembered their whimpers. She nodded. "I know what I saw." Hafsa's mind travelled back to the memory of innocent girls tied up.
It was on that day in the market after Laila had disappeared. She searched on the same path they had last taken, not finding evidence of her mistress anywhere.
Hafsa quietly followed an abandoned street until she heard a man shouting in anger. Taking advantage of her small figure, she partially hid behind the brick walls as he furiously cursed. His tongue was suddenly cut off as another approached.
There were words spoken but Hafsa was too far to make out what they were. She stepped closer, afraid yet intrigued. He looked familiar, his garments resembling the one who had kidnapped her so long ago.
"Sell them or kill them I do not care, get out of my sight!" The man on the floor stood and started taking long strides in the opposite direction. She quickly turned, hiding completely behind the wall, attempting to control her breaths.
The man sighed, saying something under his breath. He spoke a language which was foreign to her, it sounded ancient.
Hafsa waited until she could not hear of his footsteps. She closed her eyes, wanting to run home yet not being able to move.
She had to know.
Adrenaline filled her as she whispered a prayer of protection. Her body felt light at first, chasing after him was perhaps exhilarating. At least until her eyes landed on a broken building within resided her past companions. They were tied up, dirty and malnourished.
Hafsa could not bear it as her legs forced her away from them. Her fear carried her as far as she could go until she was hit with the overwhelming sense of regret. She had left her friends behind.
The tears from her eyes were brushed away by a soft hand, forcing her back to a present where her most prized friend stood before her. Laila offered an empathetic look, her eyes full of remorse as she remembered the victims of a heinous crime.
"Can we help them?" The young girl asked behind pained gulps. She tried so hard not to wail in pain when it was far easier to cry than to speak.
Laila looked to the ground, her heart fighting her brain as she struggled to form words. She could not ask Usman to help. The last time the girls were mentioned to him he proclaimed his lack of compassion loudly. Surely, his opinion would have not changed.
Or had it?
She dismissed the thought, not wanting to believe he was different now.
"We will go." Laila nodded her head, affirming her position. Hafsa did not react, she wrapped her arms around Laila in a tight embrace, her tears forming an apology which could not be said aloud.
Perhaps she had just saved the lives of hundreds of little girls, or perhaps she had sentenced her beloved mistress to death.
-
They waited until after Maghreb prayer, it was the time when most retreated to their own quarters. Hafsa had managed to sneak in smaller weapons for Laila from the palace armoury.
Laila on the other hand, had spent her remaining time trying to revive her sword fighting skills.
As much as she tried to avoid him, every swing of the weapon only reminded her of Abdul. She wondered how he was. Was he well? Had he returned to his senses?
Her moves were not as precise as before but she was still as good as any female warrior. Abdul had taught her well. He showed her to use her weaknesses as strengths. She was small and so she was agile and flexible, easily able to find the weak points of her opponents.
Once again, she wore the dress of her maid and quietly left the palace. There was never a promise of return, but the silence in the air made tonight feel particularly sinister. Laila felt a chill go up her spine as Hafsa approached in sorrow, her eyes to the ground as she confirmed their exit route. There was a separate entrance for the servants through which they would escape.
The palace was quiet enough to slip away without seeming suspicious. Airy was the night which they had chosen, there was a soft breeze which could be felt through the tight veil Laila had wrapped around her face. With their fire torch in hand, they quietly left the palace and entered the empty city.
Laila did not know if she preferred it in the day or night, she only knew that the quietness of the usually bustling streets was eerie. It caused her to be more cautious as one hand was held tightly to the dagger by her side.
"Tell me where they are," she looked towards her small informant, hopeful in her purpose. They would save them.
Allah knows how, but they would.
Hafsa nodded in desperation, her body shaking as she took Laila's hand and led her to the promised place. The alley they entered was beginning to look familiar, only a few days ago Laila had stood there whilst Usman protected her in front of a beast of a man. She could only shudder whilst remembering his vile gaze.
She felt her hand suddenly dropped as they stood still in between the height of the buildings around them.
"Are we here?" Laila asked, confused. Hafsa looked down, trying to nod but unsure of herself. "I don't know..." she said, her face stricken.
"What?-" her words were cut off as a dark figure began to approach them. The person was covered head to toe, unrecognisable to the human eye. Laila grabbed her sword, pointing it before them whilst forcing Hafsa behind her.
"Who are you?" She spoke harshly, ready to attack the intruder if she must. There was silence as the stranger continued to approach, ignoring her hostility.
Laila stepped forward; her courage strengthening. If not for anyone else, she would have to at least protect the child behind her. She stood ready, her weapon aimed to injure, her breathing going deeper as the adrenaline fuelled her body.
"Laila!" The sound of her name suddenly caught her attention as a scream sounded out from behind. Laila turned, eyes growing wide as she saw Hafsa fall to the ground. Her gaze fell upon a familiar man before she felt a jolt of pain on her head.
The world turning dark as she joined her friend on the floor.
.
.
.
Her eyes opened, suddenly blinded by the powerful sun above her. She raised her hand, wanting to block out the light.
"Do not let them hurt him." A sudden voice forced her eyes to search around for another soul.
"Who is that?!" she asked, afraid. Her arms fell as she attempted to move forward, only to be stopped as her feet were buried by the warm sand.
"Help!" she shouted as the sand beneath her began to reach her ankles.
"You must save him." The voice was weaker now, almost disappearing.
"Who?!" Laila screamed as the bright sky was painted into darkness. Her eyes looked below when a single rose suddenly grew from the ground, almost glowing in the coming darkness.
"Usman" her voice was now a whisper, eyes closing as the sand engulfed her into the ground.
.
.
Ice cold, her body drenched. She instantly looked around, struggling to breathe as the water had woken her so suddenly.
"Awake now?" Laila blinked, shock filling her as a man of nightmares filled her sight.
It was him, Khalil.
Taking her once was not enough, he had never accepted defeat at all. Alas he had fulfilled his vow, he had seen her again.