AN: So I won't be able to update these as much as I would like anymore because of the dreaded thing known as school. And sorry this is relatively short and not as well written towards the end


Chapter 3

Mama

"Right!" Kas jumps the direction that was called, receiving a small smack on the shoulder with a wooden sword. He hears a heavy sigh. He didn't mean to jump that way, his body acted before his mind. Kas tries to slip the darkness off his head but a stronger hand grabs his thin wrist rather firmly, even if he did try and wiggle his fingers there was no way he'd be able to. He bites back a small yelp. It was sure to bruise. He's never liked training with this person. They were always so rough compared to his father.

Kas has practiced this plenty of times with his father but they went much slower than he's being forced to move right now. The idea of this is to have a blindfold tied over the trainee's eyes and swing a wooden sword at them so they have to anticipate where the strike will land without seeing. They practice this so that if an enemy comes from behind they will be able to defend themselves.

"Let go me Danush!" He tries to sound like his father but it is hard with his weak voice. The grammar problems don't help either. Danush just laughs at the pitiful attempt at authority and shakes him around by his tiny arm. Kas will tell his father about this when he comes home but he also knows that his father won't be able to punish Danush for bullying his son. Danush is, after all, the king's son. Kas's father can't lay a finger on him.

"Danush, let him go!" This time he listens. This voice though belongs to a girl, the same voice that called the direction, Ava, Danush's younger sister. She is only two years older than Kas but Danush still listens to her over him, which bothers Kas. Danush and Ava are the King's children, meaning Danush is in line for the throne. Danush is five years older than Kas.

He reaches for the blindfold again, this time successful in taking it off. The sudden brightness blinds him momentarily. Kas wipes his sweaty forehead with his forearm. They have been out here since breakfast; it's now an hour until dinner will be ready.

Meals are different, too different. His father isn't there to scold him for talking with food in his mouth or reminding him to sit up straight. There are no strong shoulders that he can fall asleep against after a filling dinner and when he wakes up he finds himself in his bed, under his Egyptian cotton blanket. He misses his father terribly. He wants, more than anything, for his father to come home tomorrow. Completely unharmed, as if he never left. He can't be selfish though, so instead he counts down the days until they arrive in Nasaf, victorious.

"Ava, you can't yell out directions, he needs to figure them out himself. That's the point of this." Danush says angrily. He puts his fists on his hips, "Besides, you shouldn't be out here. Go back inside and help mother or the servants or anybody, just leave."

She crosses her arms in defiance, "No. I want to be out here. It's too loud in the palace right now. Servants are running all over the place and they are rushing in and out of Auntie Adileh's room." She stops and thinks for a moment. Kas looks at the older boy and sees something in his eyes. It's not sadness, nor is it amazement, it is more like fear but Kas doesn't understand why. "My room is right next to hers remember? The door was slamming shut and breaking open and a woman was yelling at other people." She rambles on and on. Being a six year old Kas looses interest easily and his mind starts to think about how hungry he is.

"Did you smell food cooking?" He blurts. His cousins look at him confused for a moment but she replies with a no. Dinner isn't ready yet! Kas complains to himself. He hears Danush asking Ava a lot of questions but Kas doesn't care, he just wants to eat.

He starts to walk off to one of the large wooden doors. He grabs the handle and is about to pull it open when he's dragged back by his shoulders. He kicks and tries to hit who ever grabbed him but he is pushed back towards Ava. "Why'd you do that!?" Kas yells at Danush. The older boy doesn't answer. He just stares at the door and holds his hands out in front of him. His hands alone are telling the two to stay there. "I just want to get a pom- um… pomegranate." He struggles with the word.

"O-okay," Danush stutters. Why is he acting so weird? 'I'll get you one, j-just stay here and I'll be back here in a few minutes." He turns and takes a few steps towards the door. "Just stay here." He orders. To show that he will, Kas sits down and crosses his legs. Ava does the same. Danush turns back to the door, "Uncle, you should have stayed." Kas hears Danush mutter this but by the look on Danush's face he wasn't supposed to.


The blistering sun bears down on him but he can't feel it with all the adrenaline flowing through him. His strikes are brutal and swift, slicing through the enemy's flesh with requisite ease. With every swing brings a new spurt of crimson. Pained cries escape his victim's throats as his sword hits.

They sent Dastan in first. After what he did in Alamut they decided to use the stealth method more. He snuck in with his men and managed to open the main gate to the city without raising the alarm. From there the army marched in as Dastan took care of the archers. There were many Jesapian soldiers but they were easy to pick through and within a few hours they have made their way to the heart of Jesapa.

Garsiv pulls his sword out of the last soldier's chest and kicks the body aside. Groans from both Jesapian and Persian soldiers filter through his ears as he passes them on his way to a soldier leaning against a wall.

The ruler of the city isn't a coward who hides in his house under guard waiting for his enemy to come to him, no, he goes to them. He came out and fought with his soldiers, a true leader. But he had been captured by the Persian forces and held captive until the battle was over.

Dastan rounds a corner and into the square the Persian were just fighting in, swords in hand. "You just couldn't wait for me could you?" He says to Garsiv with a hint of disappointment in his tone.

He smirks, "Well if it makes you feel better, I didn't fight all that much. These Jesapians are all weak. They were virtually wiped out by my first line of soldiers." There is movement down by his foot. When he looks down he sees a soldier's shaking hand reaching for a fallen sword. Garsiv steps forward, directly onto the man's fingers. Under his weight the man's fingers crumble as he moans, no strength for anything louder. He kicks the sword out of reach.

"Where is Tus?" Dastan sheaths his swords.

"He is with Parshan, ruler of this place." Persian troops start walking into the courtyard with makeshift stretchers. Garsiv walks away from Dastan and helps his men lift alive but injured Persians onto the stretchers.

"Why aren't you with him, you don't give up the chance to rub victory in their faces too easily." He jokes. Garsiv smirks at his remark.

"He didn't want me there, instead he ordered me to help carry the wounded to our healers. And honestly, I don't exactly want to make anymore enemies, for my children's sake." Dastan goes silent for a moment then heavily sighs. "And you would do good by assisting our men get the wounded to our tents." He says, kneeling down next to a soldier with a fractured leg. The man groans.

"Come on Bis." He says to Bis who then jumps down off the roof he was on. The two get busy with finding alive soldiers.


Kas has gotten restless waiting for his cousin to come back with his food. He's jumped up and down, practiced his free running that his uncle Dastan has been teaching him secretly, he's raced Ava around the courtyard several times, sat there twiddling his thumbs and stared at his reflection in his father's helmet. He left more than thirty minutes ago and the six year old Kas is hungry, bored and grumpy.

He puts the helmet on, pushes the brim above his eyes and stalks towards the door, determined to get a pomegranate. Ava doesn't stop him but follows him instead, hungry herself.

The two kids walk through the grand hall. Marble floor adorned with an exquisite, circular design in the center of the room, long, colourful Persian and Egyptian tapestries hang from the walls and flower pots brimming with vibrant flowers border arches and doorways give a small taste of the wealth and life of the royal family. Few people, other than foreign dignitaries, see the inside of the palace of Nasaf.

They near a grand staircase leading to the second floor where everyone's rooms are located. He looks up when the sound of quickened breathing draws near. A woman servant sprints down the stairs almost tripping over her own feet. This sparks interest in Kas, his hunger diminishes. Once the woman disappears around a corner Kas runs up the stairs two at a time.

As he nears a well known room more commotion becomes apparent. Woman are running in and out of that room with towels in their arms, both clean and dripping red. A woman stops when she sees the young boy standing in the hall. Her eyes widen with fear but she quickly runs into the room.

"Your Grace, h-he's here!" She says with panic lining her words. A different woman walks out of the room and meets his gaze. His Aunt Donya, the Queen. She nods at the servant woman to go back in the room. The Queen hastily walks towards Kas and Ava, eager to distract the boy.

"Kas, what are you dong here? Aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" She says sweetly, like his mother would. She looks back as another woman comes running out.

"I saw people running and came to see what happened... and they aven't even cooked dinner yet." He pouts, but returns to the events at hand. "What happened?" The Queen opens her mouth but before she can say anything an ear piercing screams echoes throughout the hall. The young boy's face has fear written all over it.

"Mama? Mama!" He shrieks trying to push past his Aunt. Tears run down his cheeks. With a mother's ease, Donya scoops Kas into her arms and carries him down the hall. He tries to fight against her but his attempts are useless. He cries out for his mother one last time before they reach the staircase.

Something other than silence answers, a baby's wails.