It would be easy for him to abandon love for duty, but when duty became love, then what could he expect to do, expect to gain? Trapped between the approval of his sultan, or the love of his wife.
Laila snuggled against her husband, admiring the damaged sculpture before them. It was broken from some places, surrounded by dust and uncared for. Although abandoned, the falcon of the desert stood proud amongst the isolated part of the city.
It was the tribute to the sultan. But not the sultan who bore the throne now. No, this was for a preceding leader. One who was unheard of.
They say he was just and brave. His people loved him so that they made this statue in his honour. He ruled only for a short period, his death unexplained as he left behind his pregnant wife and sorrowful people.
"Sultan Amir had no choice but to take his place as the next in line. Since then, no one speaks of the previous ruler." Laila bit her lip, "And his wife?" she asked.
Usman shrugged, "Some say she ran away a few days later. Some say she and her unborn child were killed. Either way, she was never seen again." Laila sat up, displeased at his reaction.
"You speak so casually, as though a woman and child were not harmed. Do you not feel sadness for them?" Usman rolled his eyes, caressing her hair.
"Of course my love, it saddens me. But there is nothing that can be done. Sultan Amir tried hard to search for them but they had truly disappeared." Usman bought her head down to his chest again. Seated on the carriage, darkness almost fell upon them.
"Tell me Laila, what do you search for in a husband?" he asked after a while.
Laila giggled at his question.
"I-hmm." She placed her finger on her chin, thinking hard before her eyes lit up.
"I wanted for someone who thought like a writer, gifted like an artist and spoke like a poet." Usman scrunched his brows in confusion.
"I mean who could love better than a writer, or create something more beautiful than an artist. Or speak words as graceful as a poet?" Her quiet laughter filled the coming night.
Usman joined in her joy, facing her.
"I have one lord, and he gave me a love better than any writer could have written." His fingers reached down to caress Laila's cheeks.
"He created something more beautiful than anything I have seen and gifted it to me." Her dark eyes stared deep into his.
"Something so perfect, no poet could find words for."
They stayed still, frozen in time.
Until eventually time forced them back to the palace.
"You will come to me soon?" Laila asked innocently as her husband took hold of her hand.
He leant down, placing a gentle kiss on it.
"I will always return to you." She shied away, her cheeking colouring red.
He would come back.
-
Usman held his expression, unwilling to falter beneath the cold stare of his adopted father. A thousand words ran under his tongue, begging for release.
Perhaps the sultan would understand?
He thought, naively.
Blinded by his loyalty still, even when knowing that the man before him was not good nor just.
Sultan Amir was evil to his very bone.
It was a hard fact to admit, especially when the man before him had saved Usman from a life of torture and dismay.
Yet, he could not be foolish. There was a motive.
Amir leaned back in his throne, fingers crossed over one another, appearing to be lost in deep thought. He watched as the boy before him stood straight and strong, resembling a figure who still haunted the sultan's mind. He shook his head, commanding the memories of old to disappear.
"Today we will declare war against the Al-Shujae." The proclamation was unmissable, every word precise as Usman felt his eyes widen.
This could not happen, not now.
He stepped forward, halting when the sultan raised his hand.
"What is the problem?" Amir questioned shamelessly. Usman's frustration was evident as he attempted to contain his anger.
"My sultan, we have already made peace with the Al-Shujae. Their daughter lives within our walls, is this not enough revenge?" He heard a snigger, the sultan rising in his chair.
"Our honour was tarnished when that shameless sister of mine abandoned her tribe for Abu-Al-Khayr. Her daughter's return to a lavish palace is not revenge, it is natural order. Retribution is far more than this. Have I taught you nothing?!" With each word, his voice raised, feigning anger. Usman did not drop his gaze, instead, glaring hard at his leader.
Amir met his eyes with the same wrath, expecting of this behaviour.
He fell back, sighing.
"I would not have waged war with them, but Abu-Al-Khayr is gone. A new sultan is in charge now, a sultan who wishes for the girl back." Usman scrunched his brows.
Abu-Al-Khayr was gone?
He felt it. The anguish, the pain, the cries. Laila would not be able to bear this news. He almost faltered, holding onto his last steps so as to not appear weak.
His wife would be devastated. How could be bear her suffering?
"A new sultan, perhaps... Abdul?" He questioned. Amir raised his brows in approval. Usman shook his head, disbelieving. "Impossible." He whispered.
"Abu-Al-Khayr would never give his position to Abdul. He imprisoned him."
"He was assassinated. Abdul took the position by force, his word is law there now." The sultan explained. He was beginning to grow tired of the back and forth. It was clear to him, Usman was no longer the puppet child he had raised.
He had inherited a dominance, a leadership that could no longer be nurtured. Amir relaxed, softening his expression, "I do not wish to send you to war, but there is no other choice. Abdul will not stop. We must kill him." The sultan stood from his podium, approaching Usman.
"My son," he said affectionately, placing his hand on Usman's shoulder. "I can only rely on you for victory. Will you abandon me now, when I need you the most?" Amir watched as Usman froze, unable to deny his sultan... his father.
-
Laila looked upon the woman before her. She was smaller, an innocent expression on her face as she looked around the empty room.
"Wafiyyah." Laila stood shocked, blinking twice so as to make sure it was not an illusion. "What are you doing here?' she asked, running to embrace her friend.
"I- I couldn't stop myself, I had to come to see you." Wafiyyah gulped, swallowing the bulge in her throat as she returned the affection. She had missed her, regardless of everything.
They held each other before Wafiyyah finally pulled back, her gaze distant since she refused to look at her former mistress in the eyes. Laila grabbed hold of Wafiyyah's hand, squeezing it as she noticed the sadness on her friend's face.
"What is it?" she asked. Wafiyyah shook her head, inhaling deeply whilst pushing the words out of her mouth. "It is your father, he-" she stopped, taking in Laila's warmth for the last time as she began her betrayal.
"He is not the same man he was. Your father cannot recover from your departure and he has let Al-Shujae fall into the wrong hands." Wafiyyah released her hand, turning away. "Al-Shujae is on the brink of destruction. The Al-Muharibun have taken almost everything and the ministers have what's left. The people are in chaos."
Laila shook her head.
"What?" the silence thereafter seemed infinite. She was still, the words of her friend echoing around the room. Laila reached forward, placing her hand on Wafiyyah's shoulder, forcing the girl to face her.
"My father, is he well?" she asked, watching as her face fell. holding an expression which showed nothing bar sadness. Laila felt numb.
"Is he well?" she asked again, afraid to hear the answer.
"He is alive." Laila felt her heart burn. Alive? But not well? Her breathing deepened as she felt panic rise up her body.
"Laila?" Wafiyyah called as Laila fell to the ground, heaving in pain whilst grasping her chest. "Laila?" Wafiyyah called again, bending down to help when she was suddenly pushed away by a foreign presence.
"What have you done?!" a deep voice shouted, scaring her into silence.
Usman fell besides his wife, holding her face as tears fell down her cheeks. Laila opened her mouth, wanting to speak but unable to form words. Instead, a loud sob broke out as she began to cry in pain.
"M-my Fath-er," her words were broken as Usman held her close, caressing her whilst he attempted to comfort. He looked towards the strange girl in anger, signalling for her to leave.
He would deal with her later.
They stayed like that for a while. Until Laila's loud sobs began to quieten, until her shaking body grew still and her tears dried. Usman did not remove her from his arms, he stroked her hair and wiped her tears, allowing her to use him as her solace. Her cries were now only small hiccups, her eyes on the ceiling before they began to slowly close, overcome by exhaustion.
Usman gently lifted her, laying her on the bed and leaving her in peace.
The storm had only just begun.
He gently closed the door, eyes immediately searching for the culprit. The girl in question stood outside, fiddling with her fingers.
"You." He said, approaching Wafiyyah with vengeance. She looked familiar to him yet he could not recognise her. She immediately stood back, afraid.
"Please, it's me! I was Laila's handmaiden!" her words were fast. Usman stopped, his memories returning to him.
"I don't care who you are. What did you say to my wife?" He asked. "N-nothing!" she replied in haste. Usman raised his brows, his experience interrogating prisoners had proved powerful in his life. The girl spoke too quickly to be completely innocent.
He looked towards Laila's bedroom door, ushering them away from there. They would talk somewhere quieter.
-
"What did you tell her?" he questioned, staring down at the girl across from him.
Wafiyyah gulped, avoiding eye contact as she looked anywhere but at him. His fury filled the entire room, silently approaching his prey whilst he stared her down.
The girl panicked, stuttering words out as she attempted to defend herself against him.
"I-I only wanted to tell her about her father!" She finally screamed out. Usman stopped. "You told her about his death?" His words came out as a warning.
Wafiyyah shook, denying his accusation. "Death? He is not dead." Confusion overcame her. Was Abu-Al-Khayr dead?
"How long have you been away from your tribe?" He asked. Wafiyyah swallowed, "a-a couple of weeks."
Usman exhaled, she had been gone for too long to know anything.
"The last I know he was sick, both mentally and physically. Laila... Laila deserved to know." Usman shook his head, straightening his form.
"You will not tell her a thing. Understood." Wafiyyah nodded, too afraid to deny his command. Usman dismissed her, falling onto his chair as she left.
What will become of them?
â
Abdul looked around at his people, they wore expressions of fear, still astonished at how the tables had turned.
The moment his life changed was still fresh in his mind. He had chosen a night where the moon could not be seen, so at least Laila could not witness his betrayal. He had given in to the enemy, too defenceless to deny the offer presented before him.
Only, the price he paid for this victory could never be forgiven.
The one named Nasir had relayed a message from the Sultan of the Al-Muharibun. Assassinate the Sultan of Al-Shujae, take his position and all will be yours.
Nothing else mattered, only that Laila was returned to him.
Now Abu-Al-Khayr was gone, in his place a new sultan stood. Abdul.
Abdul fought with himself, forcing himself to forget the affection offered by his sultan over the years. Only remembering his love for Laila, his time with her. Using her memory to fuel his actions and kill his conscience.
She would forgive him, he convinced himself.
But he knew, she would not.
Deep down, he knew Laila would never forgive him for what he had done.
"Sultan." His thoughts were interrupted, bringing him back to the reality before him.
The ministers... his ministers, sat before him, awaiting his command.
"The Al-Muharibun have not left the borders of our tribe. Their men still wait amongst the mountains." Abdul stared out at the window, offering a view of the training grounds. The place which held many battles between him and Laila.
Back then, they were merely children. Uncaring for the horrors of the world.
"What more do they wish for?" he asked, infuriated.
It was still, before one finally formed the courage to speak.
"500 slaves." The murmurs which followed occupied the silence.
500? Abdul shook his head, he should've known.
"It is not right to bargain 500 for one. The princess is not worth our people!"
Abdul snickered.
"You speak against the Al-Muharibun with such ferocity. Perhaps you are afraid there will be no slaves left for you?" The man fell back, looking down in annoyance.
"I will not give up the princess, nor will I give up the people." Abdul stood, approaching the window before him. His mind could only picture his love, trapped in an unknown place.
"War is the only option." It was instant, the disapproval.
"We cannot-"
"We can and we will!" His power silenced them.
He had lost too much, done too much to stop now. His release was not without a price, he knew that. But his revenge would suffice.
He would not rest until the Al-Muharibun was destroyed. Until Laila was here, besides him.
Until Usman was dead.