Chapter 16
اعتراÙات- Confessions
His eyes searched around, cautious as the night became colder. A slave had been sent to convey their message but he had yet to return. His patience was wearing thin as he stared out at their biggest foe, Al-Shujae.
It was not a weak tribe, some might have even called it 'strong'. Nonetheless, they held honour as great as mountains. Their leader was merely a fool lost in memories of old victories, he would never amount to that stature again. Nasir knew it, there was no future for this dying tribe lest they fell under Al-Muharibun.
He had bet his life on it.
Nasir looked upon the land with pity, the once flourishing tribe had lost much under the siege. Still unable to comprehend the loss of his daughter, Abu-al-Khayr had abandoned his duties, passing them off to his subordinates who only craved power. After all, loyalty was a rare gem to find where gold was involved.
A rider suddenly approached them, becoming familiar as his horse began to slow down. The messenger jumped off, kneeling to the ground as he delivered the reply. The offer was accepted.
Finally, they could begin.
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"What is a home?" Laila asked whilst laying on Usman. Her hand was placed on his chest as he cradled into her, gently stroking her hair.
He was quiet, his eyes closed, becoming intoxicated by her sweet vanilla scent. Laila smiled, closing her own eyes as she decided to join him in slumber.
"A home," he suddenly said, bringing Laila closer.
"Whatever this is, with you." She breathed in as a smile graced her lips.
"With me?" she asked sheepishly, addicted to his words of affection.
"Yes, my love." He placed his finger under her chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
"I have never known a home until right now, as you lay in my arms." The butterflies she once so resented were now overcoming her very soul.
Her home had been lost several times. Perhaps even, she had never had one either. Yet in his embrace, it was as though she had not known life before this moment.
How had she lived without this warmth for so long?
She placed her hand on his cheek, bringing him forward as their lips met.
Her heart screamed, she would never be homeless again.
Their day was spent in each other's arms, revelling in childhood stories and tales of past adventures. Attendants had only arrived to serve them food and they fell deeper into their love whilst feeding one another sweet dates and honey.
Laila found herself growing out of shyness as his touch blessed her skin, again and again. Usman bared to her his feelings, whispering promises greater than any vow ever made.                                                       She was exhausted in bliss, dazed as she became intoxicated by his tongue. Her words were forgotten since she named him her language. All she knew were the caresses of his hand, his body against hers until she was brimming with love.
Experiencing a world in which there was just Laila and Usman, a heaven on earth. The day turned to night with only a single thought, how could one return to normal after experiencing such perfection?
Alas, everyone must wake from their sleep, even if they were having the most beautiful of dreams. Laila opened her eyes, instantly missing the comfort of her husband as she searched for him with her hands.
The sun was high in the sky when she finally left the warmth of their bed, her body aching from the day before. A shy smile graced her face upon remembering why, Usman was quite the lover. She shielded herself with her hands, feeling embarrassed at her own actions.
Her eyes were suddenly covered as an arm went around her waist, pulling her into a hard back. Laila leaned in, recognising him immediately.
"At least I don't scare you anymore" Usman said, removing his hand from her eyes. She held it tightly, relaxing her face on his arm.
"You never scared me," Laila playfully scoffed. His soft laughter filled the room as they both stared out at the garden below them.
They were silent, lost in each other's hold. For a moment, it appeared that no one else existed.
Laila felt Usman sigh as he slowly turned her around, caressing her cheek. He stared at her with adoration, unable to comprehend the beauty of his wife.
She was stunning, the image of a hoor on earth. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the only woman he had ever known. Her dark hair was glowing golden from the sun, her eyes the colour of honey as she looked down in shyness, a move which only made him fawn more.
Her modesty made his heart constrict.
She was his, only his.
"We must go now," he spoke through gritted teeth. The last thing he wanted was to take her away from this solace. Her expression fell as his throat felt tight, cursing himself for disturbing her peace.
She truly had ruined him.
"I know my love. But there are things I must attend to." He stroked her cheek, comforting her. Laila looked up at him with eyes that almost made him fall to the ground. Her innocence, her trust was overpowering. He could not bear it.
She nodded, calling him for a last embrace.
"You never told me who this home belongs to?" Laila questioned as they walked towards the horse waiting outside the villa. Usman took hold of her hand, assisting her onto the animal.
"It was a gift from the sultan for my victories," he answered, unsure of his wife's reaction as he remembered his injustice against her tribe. Her expression changed as she stared upon the mansion behind her. "It's beautiful."
Usman jumped on the horse, pulling Laila's arms around him to distract her from her thoughts. The sudden touch bought her back to reality, wrapping her arms tighter around him as he whipped the reigns, riding away from their small haven.
They did not miss the city this time, in fact, Usman rode straight into the array of buildings. He felt Laila tense behind him, gently stroking her hand for comfort. "I want to show you something" he explained, aiming only for one place as he tried to at least avoid the crowds.
His memories cursed him for taking the girl to his most prized location, a secret which he kept his own from the day he was taken by the sultan.
He felt her lean into him, placing her cheek on his back. The move warmed his heart, his cold, brutal heart which had only hurt the angel behind him. How could he begin to apologise for the mistakes he had made?
His destination was close, some mere seconds away. As the horse began to slow, Laila let go of him and gawked at the tower in front of them. One would believe it was abandoned if not for the children playing in the front.
They were loud, chasing each other in circles. Their clothes were dirty from the sand, bodies thin but faces full of laughter. Upon seeing Usman, they began to run around them both, shouting words of welcome and praise.
Usman chuckled, jumping off the horse before bringing Laila down with him. She stood back, overwhelmed by the unexpected crowd. Her husband on the other hand, was excited, eagerly returning the affection. She was lost whilst gazing at him, so different from what she had originally believed.
Their first meeting suddenly came back to her, his gentleness with a small child of Al-Shujae, switching a bracelet for a ring when he could have imprisoned the child for thievery.
Why did she not judge his character from this?
She felt someone tugging at her dress, looking down to see a small girl below her. Laila bent, stroking the child's face with affection.
"You are a princess," the girl said, a statement rather than question. Laila felt her cheeks warm, a smile gracing her face as she shook her head,
"No, you are." she affirmed, lifting the girl into her arms. She turned, already feeling Usman's eyes on her, his gaze full of warmth as he admired the beauty before him.
They spent some time with the children, playing and storytelling. Laila tried to remember the books she had read as a child, eager to please the imaginations of the young. Even Usman was left intrigued as her words were sang like poetry, hypnotising the small crowd. A man of similar age to them soon appeared, nodding to Usman before ushering the children away. She watched as they exchanged some words prior to parting.
Her husband eventually approached and found her hands in his, leading her towards the tower which soared above. The building matched the exterior, run down, almost broken. There were holes in the wall as they climbed up the steep stairs.
Laila could just barely hear waves around them, small bits of light shone through the broken parts of the building. She would've been afraid if not for the tight hold her husband had on her hand, protective as he led her to the very top of the tower.
He abruptly stopped, turning to face his wife. A sheepish smile was plastered on his face, almost shy. He pulled Laila forward, standing behind her before covering her eyes with his hands. Her world darkened as he guided her, the sound of the water growing stronger with each step.
He stopped suddenly, gently removing his hands as the sea gleamed at them, shining whilst it reflected the light of the sun. There was no end of it in sight, just a fading blue line which struggled against the forming waves. They stayed in complete stillness, staring in awe.
Her eyes on the sea, and his on her.
"It's beautiful," she finally spoke, not being able to take her fill of the sparkling turquoise. He squeezed her hand in agreement. Laila turned, overcome with nerves as she found his eyes fixated. She looked down, shrinking into herself. "Don't do that," he slowly caressed her cheek. "Don't shy away from me."
Laila returned his gesture, nodding as she awaited his confession. Usman sighed, forcing her eyes back to the view. For a while they only heard the sound of the waves crashing against each other, breathing in the freshness of the air.
He eventually sighed, ready.
"I was raised here."
She stayed silent, only listening as he broke his defences.
"I was abandoned here when I was two years old," he scoffed, "or at least that is what they told me." He turned to Laila, "it was not easy being raised here, we truly had to fend for ourselves. They did not care that we were children, that we were orphans. I especially, was particularly weak." His head fell, lost in the memories he had buried deep inside himself. "I was the smallest, used as a scapegoat most of the time. Only when I was eight did I find a way out."
His eyes did not meet hers, wandering away. The memories which followed were relentless in their pain, being only eight and fighting with those who were far bigger, far stronger than him. If not for the brutality of Nasir, he would not have escaped. If not for his hatred for the man, the strong desire to prove him wrong, perhaps Usman would have died a long time ago.
His strength stemmed from his hatred, this was his power.
"I did things from the age of eight that no child, no boy should do. I fought with men twice my size, trained myself to defeat them, to hurt them. I became heartless, only knowing how to survive, only wanting to be the best," he paused, "the best killer."
"When I was of seventeen years, I was the strongest fighter in Dhabah. Most people knew of me, and the sultan wanted me as his champion. I fought in wars waged by him, defeating so many till I reached your tribe. I knew it was wrong but I owe my life to the sultan. He turned me from Usman the killer, into Usman the warrior." He felt her hand on his shoulder before wrapping her arms around him.
"I cannot even count the amount of lives I have on my hands. Even your present state is because of me." Laila shook her head, tugging him towards her, forcing his eyes up to meet his.
"My only consolation is that I have not allowed another child here to be treated like me. I raise them, I care for them." Usman pulled away, shaking his head in self-disgust. "And yet I still ask myself, how could I touch you with the same hands I have murdered with?"
"You have only hurt men who you believed to be the enemy." Laila began to caress his cheek, staring into his piercing grey eyes.
"If you were as hateful as you believed, not one soul on this earth would love you. Our God is great, he would not allow the people to admire someone who is so cruel, so evil." She smiled at him, "I look at you and I see a man who was in pain, a man who only did what he could to survive."
Laila embraced him, holding as tight as she could, afraid if she let go he would disappear. Usman could only cling onto his emotionless expression, refusing to give away his feelings. It was strange to be grateful for her words, words he did not know he needed till they were spoken.
"You still feel the same for me?" he asked, faltering. She nodded, refusing to release him, only holding tighter as he finally relaxed in her arms.
"I will never stop loving you Usman."
The warrior had been defeated. He felt his eyes grow damp, struggling to stop the tears from falling.
Strong men did not cry, he was told. Usman was no longer strong. The woman in his embrace was his weakness, his one defeat.
The revenge was over.
No one would hurt Laila again.
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So, he had fallen for the girl after all. It was not anticipated but it should have been expected.
Like father, like son.
Sultan Amir shuffled in in his throne, uncomfortable. This had changed all his plans, and change was something he did not like. Usman was foolish, lost in his emotions. He could have had the world if only he had done what he was told.
He dismissed the slave with his hands, watching as the young boy eagerly escaped the overpowering hall.
How could Usman be naïve enough to believe his secret would not be found out? He placed his hand on head, deliberating.
"My sultan." The voice interrupted his thoughts, igniting his fury.
"What!" Amir shouted, glaring at the messenger, his anger subsiding as he recognised the man.
"I bring news from Al-Shujae." The soldier said, kneeling before the throne. Amir straightened in his chair, swiftly forgetting the shortcomings of his 'adopted son'.
"Speak boy!"
"Abdul has accepted our offer. He is willing to take on the seat of Al-Shujae." Amir sat back, satisfied with the response. "However..." his ears perched up,
"He wants only the princess in exchange. If we do so, he will abide by your wishes."
These young men and their yearnings. Only fools for letting desire overcome their ambition. Amir chuckled, "It will be done how he wants." He waved the messenger away, embracing the quietness as he was left alone.
Laila belonged to none, she was merely a pawn who no longer had use. He demanded a servant to come forward, requesting for Usman to see him upon his return to the palace.
This time, nothing would stop him.
No army, no family and certainly no woman.