15| He Let Me Win

H E   L E T   M E   W I N

Hayat had bragged about her victory over Tayyab to Umar almost everyday ever since it happened. Umar had enjoyed it everytime, the way her eyes would lit up as she talked about her winning move against her husband was quite funny.

Her friendship with Umar had deepened. She wasn't scared of asking him anything because he was never offended. He was unknowingly giving her various information that she would often pass on to the rebels.

Today, Umar had looked a bit distracted, more like excited and enthusiastic, "I have a tournament." He imparted while drinking water in their break time.

"What tournament?" Hayat wiped the sweat off her face. "It's a swordsmanship tournament where a few selected warriors try to defeat the best swordsman of Hudaan."

"Ahaaa! I see. You are petrified of the fact that you might have to give up on your title."

Umar had guffawed at her remark. "No! No! I am actually excited but to defeat the best swordsman of Hudaan and win the title for myself not otherwise." Hayat's brows has furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Aren't you the best?" Hayat sat on the steps, of the courtyard, folding her legs, to put her chin on her knee.

"No I am not." He replied honestly. "Then who is?" She queried as Umar took a seat beside her while being careful enough to not touch her.

"That's a little secret that I'll only tell you if you pray for my victory today." He said thoughtfully. "You don't have to, I'll come watch it myself." Hayat said smugly, she was thrilled to watch a fight between trained swordsmen but her plans faltered when Umar further replied, "I don't think that'll be possible. Women are not allowed to watch the tournament. You might as well be punished for it."

"And why is that so?"

"I don't know it's just the unspoken rule that everyone has followed." Hayat watched some of the courtiers walk across the courtyard while giving her a sharp look.

"Will the King and the prince be there too?"

She looked at him expectantly. "Of course!"

She knew the look that the courtiers had passed to her and the general.  To ignite their speculation further she nudged Umar's shoulder with that of her's. "Don't worry. You are the best, I know it because how else would I have defeated a prince who has practically learnt the art of sword fighting all his life. You'll surely win." Umar at first had been taken aback at the contact of her shoulder but then she had beamed. The general had only laughed as he stood up once again to resume his classes, while maintaining the required distance.

Both of them hadn't noticed the amber set of eyes that stared at them intently from the balcony, his jaws set and fists clenched. Tayyab hadn't waited to torment himself more and so he rushed back into his chambers.

Umar and Hayat had resumed fighting once again, their blade clashing against one another as he taught her new moves.

"The prince seems to be getting better from his heartbreak." Hayat mocked while dodging Umar's blade. "Yes! He has realised that Meher is not who he thought she was."

Hayat had only ceased fighting. "So are you telling me that he killed my entire family and my fiance for nothing but a misconception?" She had felt the anger surge through her veins, her heart rate increased as she glared at Umar.

"Let's just say Hayat that often times people are not who we think they are." Umar looked at her with a pained expression.

"I don't understand it Umar. What are you trying to say?" He only huffed in slight agitation. "I can't Hayat. I am not suppose to. I am not allowed to tell you anything further  so I'd request you to stop questioning me about it. It's better for you if you never get to know." His words were enough to plant a seed of curiosity in her mind. "Who ordered you not to tell me?" She gritted her teeth.

"Tayyab!" The general sighed.  Tears soon threatened to spill as the memories came back, crashing upon  her fragile heart.

"Don't you think I deserve to receive a reason for their execution? I was orphaned because your prince was in love with a  traitor?" Hayat had shouted. Umar's  eyes had gleamed with feral warning, "He is your prince too. He is also your husband. I wouldn't dare to talk about the prince in that tone in front of me if I were you." Hayat had gone still when he further added. "You know nothing about him Hayat. Nothing at all. Stop judging for what's evident. Tayyab is not who you think he is either."

"You seriously expect me to believe there is some goodness in him when all he has ever done for me is give me  agony and pain." A tear drop fell from her treacherous eyes and rolled on her cheeks.

Umar had raked his hand over his hair in frustration, "Someday Hayat! Someday you'll know what I mean."

"When? When is that someday going to come? When will I start receiving answers for everything that happened to me?" She bellowed.

"The day Tayyab decides to be selfish with you! That day you'll receive answers to every question of yours." Umar had only confused Hayat further. She hated the fact that almost everyone in the palace had put Tayyab on such a high pedestal that they could barely hear a word against him. They had an explanation for anything he did no matter how cruel it'd be. She wanted to question him more but a khadim came to them with a message, "The king has summoned you my lady." He told Hayat.

Hayat felt the anger, the frustration and confusion all together. "You should go. I think this conversation is over and so is our class." Umar had replied nonchalantly but Hayat knew he was angry at her for speaking about his mighty prince in a disrespectful manner.

Hayat couldn't care less, they were responsible for the hardening of her heart.

She followed the khadim without sparing Umar a glance. The Khadim had taken her to the throne room. The guards at the entrance had bowed to her, she realised.

Not knowing how to respond she only nodded her head a bit. The king, along with Altamash had watched her attentively. Tayyab only stood beside the king's throne, staring at the floor as if in deep thought.

She walked in front of the King and bowed in courtesy. The King had grinned and she tried to suppress her anger, forcing herself to smile a bit.

"My daughter! I am delighted to meet you again." He announced. "Likewise my king." Hayat practically forced the words out of her mouth. Altamash had watched her with scrutiny, noting her every move, waiting for her to give him any excuse to point out her errors.

"I am happy with all the efforts that you've been making to learn about our ways. Never mind, I have summoned you to give you a task." He paused before adding further, "The  vizier of Kingdom of Qalb will be visiting us in five days for a trade meeting. The women in the family have been responsible for hosting the ball in the past too. Tayyab's mother loved it. She waited for any occasion. I would love for you to take on the responsibility as Tayyab's wife and the future Queen to the Kingdom." The King mentioned Tayyab's mother lovingly, pretending she had died instead of running away with a guard. Tayyab had gone rigid at the mention of his mother however, Hayat noticed how he didn't even look at her at all. She shrugged it without acknowledging the fact that some emotion had merely jabbed at the corners of her heart at the stoic and cold look on his face.

"I'd be honoured my king." She dipped her chin a bit out of respect and the King seemed to have been content with her response. "You'll be provided with help Of course and Tayyab can assist you too." He looked at Tayyab but his face remained passive. Hayat couldn't help but steal glances at him.

He looked... Sad.

He deserves everything Meher ever did to him if she did something at all.

Hayat had thought as she continued to look his way.

When the king was done, he excused himself from the throne room by saying that he had to go to see the tournament and advised Altamash and Tayyab to hurry too. When he was gone, Altamash advanced towards her while Tayyab didn't move at all, and continued to stare into oblivion.

What was wrong with him? She pondered.

"How are you lady Hayat?" She was momentarily distracted by the Vizier's sneer. "I am good uncle. How have you been?" She asked.

"Good! Good! I hope you enjoy organizing the ball and try not to make any mistake while you do it. No matter how happy the king may seem with you, the minute you make a joke of the royal family in front of the entire kingdom, he'll hate you and your days in the palace might just come to an end." His smile was unnerving and it gave Hayat a headache.

Was he warning her?

She already had a lot going on in her mind and the last thing she needed was for Altamash to threaten her. "Do not be worried my dearest Uncle! I wouldn't give you any single chance." She only returned his smile with as much evilness. Altamash's smile had immediately faltered.

"Be careful my lady. You are walking on a very thin rope and do yourself a favour, at least try to look a little better by making an effort on yourself. It might just save the dignity of the royal family." He had said it intentionally to hurt her and his mission had been accomplished.

Time and again Altamash had tried to  hamper her credence by reminding her of his racist views. She refused to cry. She wouldn't let his words effect her. She wasn't the same girl anymore. That instant she had felt Tayyab's heated gaze on herself, but as she shifted her gaze to him, she noticed, he had only been glaring at his uncle.

She waited for him to say something. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, she didn't exactly envisioned him to fight her fights when she'd been his sworn enemy herself but Tayyab said nothing.

"You shouldn't be concerned about my looks uncle.  Beauty isn't everything a wise person looks for in the other person. Wise people know that the most valuable asset of any human is the heart. I suggest you start taking care of your's too. It's not really that hard." The answering scowl of the vizier had only given Hayat a strange sort of satisfaction. He stomped out without a word.

Hayat had smiled triumphantly at herself.

She looked at Tayyab, who stared at her without blinking at all.

She felt her rugged breathing as he began to advance towards her, she had made up her mind to tell him that she wouldn't need his help in the preparation of the ball but she watched in confusion as he didn't stop before her, he only passed by her, moving towards the exit of the throne room. She watched him leave without a word.

She walked back to her room in silence, her mind had been racing with curiosity. She paced in her room feeling restless as Leila only stared at her, waiting for her to disclose what was going on in her mind.

Hayat needed to take her mind off everything going on in her life, she wanted to be distracted for once. Her footsteps came to a halt and she faced Leila, "Do you know where today's tournament is taking place?"  She demanded.

Leila's eyes widened in realisation of what exactly Hayat had been planning. "No! No! No! We can't do that. It's a crime Ya rab! If we get caught that we most probably will, I'll be thrown into Zindaan even if you are saved. Please my lady, don't even think of it."  Leila said frantically.

"Nobody will ever know. I promise you nothing will happen. Please Leila I really want to watch it. Just a little bit, I promise. Please Leila." She feigned innocence but Leila just shook her head as she went berserk by the mere thought of it.

"Fine! I'll go myself. It's most probably happening in the training ground and the passageway on the terrace would just lead me to it." She said more to herself.

"My lady, I request you please. Don't." Leila had tried but Hayat wouldn't listen.

As Hayat stood up to leave, Leila  found her resolve breaking. "I'll come." She sighed getting up too. Hayat's smile was that of victory.

"I love you for it. You are my only friend in the palace." Hayat had replied. "But we'll not go through the passageway. We don't know what's at the end of the tunnel. I know another way that'll lead us to a space where we'll be safely hidden."

...

"This is by far the most asinine thing I’ve ever done in the three years I’ve lived at the palace,” Leila said quietly, as they crouched behind a wall of tan stone. The latticework at its top afforded them a vantage point from which to see the sand-filled expanse below. The King and his courtiers were sitting right below it, there had been no chance they could see her until they completely bend back their head. However, the swordsmen would easily be able to see them by simply lifting their gaze a bit but Hayat wasn't worried because she knew they'd be too busy fighting, to even glance at the open  point.

“Have you ever seen one of these tournaments?” Hayat breathed back

“No. They’re not meant for an audience.”

Leila  groaned.

“Why is that?"

“I’m not sure. Maybe because—” Leila gasped as the first warrior stepped onto the sand.

Was he the best swordsman in the entire kingdom? Hayat wondered.

He was clad in nothing but sharwar trousers and a burgundy sheath clasped around his waist. Barefoot. No qamis to cover.

His bare chest glowed with sweat in the hot afternoon sun. In silence, he withdrew a large scimitar from his left hip. Its blade was narrow at the hilt and widened as it curved outward before tapering to a lethal point.

"The warriors who'll be competing with the our best swordsman." A man announced.

The warrior raised the scimitar high.

“Where is his opponent?”  Hayat asked.

“How should I know?” Leila replied while watching.

The warrior began swinging his blade in the air, performing an extended drill. He danced across the sand, the silver sword cutting arc after arc through the bright blue sky, just the way Umar often made her practice.

When he was finished, cheers and whistles of approval emanated from the sidelines.

“They must start with drills before they launch into fighting,” Leila decided.

Several more warriors, Umar being one of them showcased their drilling techniques before a hulking form materialized in the sand. His shoulders were immense, and every muscle appeared to strain beneath his copper skin.

“Ya ALLAH!” Hayat gasped, “He could crush my skull with his bare hands.”

Leila only snickered.

When the general drew his talwar into the sun, he paused for an eerie moment, the sword poised above his head.

Let’s see what it means to be the best swordsman in Hudaan.

The second he brought the blade down was the last time Hayat remembered seeing it for the entire duration of Umar’s demonstration. The slender blade whipped through the breeze, curling over its master’s arm as he stretched and dove into the sand. Hayat was amazed, she knew he had been really good at it but this was nothing compared to what she had seen him do.

"Can you do that too?" Leila asked with curiosity. "Umm yes! How else do you think I defeated the prince!" Hayat had bragged with satisfaction. Hayat searched for Tayyab but couldn't spot him.

Then, near the end of the drill, Umar lifted his free hand to his mouth . . .

And blew over his open palm.

A stream of fire extended onto the sword.

The sword was ablaze.

He whirled it over his head, slicing the screaming dragon of a weapon downward. With a final thrust into the sand, he extinguished the flames.

The warriors raised an earsplitting chorus on the sidelines. No wonder he was the general to the Hudaanian Army.

"But if he was that good, who could have bestest him?" Hayat and Leila stared at one another in shared amazement. "He's not the best?" Leila countered.

Lost in their conversation, they barely heard the announcement for the entry of the best swordsman. It took both girls some time to recognise the next figure striding onto the sand. When Hayat looked down, she was dismayed by the instant tightening sensation in her chest. She knitted her brow and pressed her lips into a line.

Her husband’s shoulders were tan and lean; each of the muscles in his trim torso shone, defined and well articulated in the afternoon sun.

“I—I . . .” Hayat attempted.

“I know,” Leila finished.

The future caliph drew his sword.

It was a unique weapon. Not as wide as a scimitar, nor as sharply curved. The blade was thin, and its point tapered to a more severe angle than all the other swords Hayat had seen so far.

Leila sighed. “Despite everything, I have to admit I’ve always found him quite handsome. Such a shame.” She further blushed.

Again, Hayat felt the strange reaction spike within her core.

“Yes. It is a shame,” she spat.

“There’s no need to be angry at me for admiring him. We all get to admire beauty.”

“I wasn’t angry at you!” Hayat protested. “I don’t care if you or anyone else admires him!”

Leila's eyes danced with amusement. Hayat had never tried to camouflage her hatred for him.

As Tayyab began his drill, Hayat found herself gripping the top of the wall, seeking a better vantage point.

Like Umar, he slashed and arced so quickly it was almost impossible to discern the location of the blade. But where the warriors superior strength granted them the ability to radiate menace without shifting a muscle, Tayyab's far more agile form underscored the subtle grace—the cunning instincts—behind every motion.

A man blindfolded Tayyab with a black cloth and Hayat watched the scene unfold in astonishment.

The first warrior advanced towards him, and Hayat couldn't understand why he hadn't been blindfolded too.

Tayyab paced attentively, she knew the only sense that probably would help him was his sense of hearing and he was relying on it alone.

The blade tore through the air like a dust devil in the desert, whistling about his head as he made his way across the sand.

Hayat heard Leila catch her breath.

The sword rained a shower of sparks as he struck it against the warrior's sword, defending himself with ace. Despite the huge built of the warrior and the advantage of his sight to Tayyab's, he just couldn't overpower Tayyab even once. After a minute Hayat realised, he was only toying with the warrior, with one swift move, he brought the match to an end with a sword positioned in each hand at his sides, as the warrior fell to the ground and Tayyab Caught his sword just in time before it landed on the ground too.

Again, a riotous cheer rang through the throng of spectators standing witness to the spectacle. Whatever one’s personal feelings about Tayyab was, it could not be denied, he was a masterful swordsman.

Nor was he a prince solely reliant on the protection of others.

He would not be an easy man to kill. Hayat gulped the lump down her throat.

That amount of perfection meant that he had been having a hefty training ever since childhood.

And this presents a serious challenge.

One by one the warriors fell and Tayyab won. Umar was defeated too despite the fact that he lasted the longest on the ground against Tayyab.

“Well, does that satisfy your curiosity? No wonder you wanted to watch it.” Leila remarked.

Amidst the loud cheers that were giving Hayat a headache, she carefully watched him. A man came to tayyab and removed his blindfold. "The best swordsman remains undefeated." He announced.

Tayyab went on his one knee infront of the King's dais, placing the tip of his sword to the ground and bowing his head. "My King!" He had said. Hayat couldn't see the King's face but she knew he must have been beaming.

Hayat had almost stopped breathing when Tayyab lifted his head and met her eyes. "Ya Rab!" Leila moved back frantically.

Hayat was frozen. She couldn't move a muscle. She felt goosebumps all over her body. Had Leila not pulled her back, she would have continued to stare at him in the eye.

Hayat didn't register anything other than the hallways she passed as Leila tugged her along with her muttering something under her breath that Hayat couldn't discern.

Hayat breathed heavily as she reached her chamber. Leila had been panting like she had run a marathon too.

"We are doomed." Leila paced as Hayat sat on her bed, trying to gather her thoughts at what had just happened.

A sudden realisation dawning upon her, "That evil madman!" She shouted as Leila watched her with a terror stricken face.

"He let me winn!" She yelled.

A long chapter! 🙈

Hey guys I urge you to vote and comment as much as possible so I can write amazing chapters for you. Hope you liked this one.

Below is just an animated picture that I found the closest resemblance to for the scene.