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SSC

Chapter 11

Arba was different. It wasn't just in her defiant gaze. There was life in her.

When he began to brew the initial steps of his plan he began to pay more attention to her, more than he originally had. When he wasn't busy coordinating with the Arabs and dealing with nation related matters, he was observing her.

Most of the time she would accompany him on all his errands. She was always on guard, making sure strangers did not approach him anymore than she dubbed appropriate. The servants were terrified of her, more than they should be of Khan. But Arba was particularly lenient with one servant girl.

Her name was Fatima.

She was a child, five years old and the daughter of one of the Indian servants. She wasn't supposed to be there that day, but the child wanted to burn the mischief in her and went exploring the castle. Her mother (who was tending to a Khan's left over breakfast dishes) was startled at the sight of her daughter skipping into the room.

The woman had bowed and apologized several times but Khan hardly noticed. His attention was fixated on Arba. He was intrigued by how intensely she stared at the child. The penitent child, unable to shake the feeling of being watched looked to Arba from behind her mother's skirts.

The adolescent's eyes were wide in fascination, her mouth was twisted pensively. But what shocked Khan wasn't the lack of fear in the child, but the softness in Arba's eyes.

Warmth he had never thought he would see in her.

The maid scuttled out of the room in a hurry, dragging her child with one hand while balancing the tray in the other. The moment the child left, the dead stillness in her eyes was back.

There was no denying it, Khan had seen her weakness. Something about that child had left a fracture of emotion in her that wasn't antagonistic. Khan wondered if he was the only one to notice.

He knew one thing for certain; her Achilles heel was his opportunity.

It was a quiet evening at the Sheikh's palace. The sun had set and the stars were growing bolder and bright as the night grew darker. Khan and Orlando were heading for dinner. Arba and Ashera shadowed them exactly five steps away. The heels of their leather clad shoes, clicked against the gleaming tiles, the sound echoed within the long corridor.

"Orlando." Khan addressed politely.

"Yes?" His second in command responded cordially.

"I feel like we don't know this Salim person enough." The leader stated factually. Orlando was taken aback by the dark haired man's statement.

"Oh I am sorry; I was hoping his obvious impertinent cad like exterior would put you off too." He retorted in a cynically humorous tone. The corner of Khan's mouth quirked up in mild amusement.

"He is the handler of the Wahash, it would be best to make him an ally and not an enemy." Orlando did not miss the sly glance he gave from the corner of his eye to the Wahash following them. He instantly knew that it was Khan's own silent notion of initiating a plan.

"What do you need me to do?" The blonde male inquired his voice had taken an abrupt turn to serious.

"Invite him for a drink, tonight after dinner."

"I am intrigued." Orlando mused in response, but uttered no further questions regarding the subject. "Did you know the Sheikh had him relocated to the room three doors away from you? He must want to be up to date with his creations."

He expected to see a flicker of astonishment in Khan, but he was confused by the lack of an expression in his sharp features.

"You don't seem shocked."

"On the contrary, I am pleased by the convenience of it." Khan stated when they arrived at the banquet hall. The other Auguments were seated awaiting their arrival. His clear gaze searched the room until they landed on Joaquin who stood regally beside Suzette.

"I need to speak to Joaquin." He announced and departed from Orlando's side with Arba indolently at his heels.

As asked Orlando had extended Khan's invitation to Salim and like clockwork Salim had arrived.

"Sa-lam al'laikum Salim, shook-ran la'koom a'la da'ool atha'ri." Khan greeted amiably when Salim entered his study, escorted by Orlando.

The blonde male took his leave granting privacy for Khan, Arba and Salim.

Salim was dressed in his alabaster Gandurah again, but his head lacked the formal Keffiyeh. His greasy ebony hair was slicked back. The seams around his eyes were deepened in suspicion. Khan allowed the man a moment to find solace and turned his attention to the Wahash.

"Arba." He called softly.

"Yes, Sir." She was instantly alert and at his side, Salim eyed her.

"My Arabic accent isn't as refined as it should be. Would you mind translating for me?" He asked, his attention focused on Salim's hatchet-face. Arba shot him look that seemed to silently question his sudden need for her language skills, but she didn't broadcast her suspicion.

"Yes sir." Arba nodded and turned her profile to face Salim and awaited Khan to speak.

Khan turned and took a leisurely stroll to the side of his room where a small mini-bar awaited. He had already set two Scotch glasses with three inches of amber liquid sparking inside them. He picked up the two glasses in both hands and walked back to Salim. He handed him one and kept the other for himself.

"Salim I would like to thank you for your contribution to our cause, it must not have been easy to tame such creatures."

She translated his words calmly, the silvery tone of her words made a shiver pass through him. Khan pushed back the sensation and watched Salim's expression carefully. The cruelty in his features had lightened considerably from the impact of Khan's translated statement. He responded in his rough accent.

Once Salim was done speaking, Arba craned her neck to Khan "He says thank you for noticing his efforts, you would be the first."

Khan did not miss the spiteful tenor of her retort. He smiled and raised his glass, Salim reluctantly lifted his own and they met in a shrill clink. Khan watched as Salim rapidly downed the amber liquor and then inhale deeply between his teeth.

"I think I am the only one to acknowledge it and reward it." Khan spoke and Arba translated. Salim was confused by the statement. Khan smiled secretively and took the glass from the handler's lose grip.

"Arba please escort Mr. Salim back to his room and do not come back until all his needs are met."

Her tense reaction was instantaneous. She spun around to face him, her eyebrow raised in alarm.

"Sorry Sir I do not understand."

"Yes you do." He cut in coldly, startling her into silence with his intense stare. He waited challenging her to rebel. She pressed her lips down into a thin lined and uttered no complaint.

Salim was watching the two, uncomprehending of the tension that had sparked between the two.

Arba submitted and lowered her gaze; Khan took that as cue to address his guest.

"Lae'la saeeda, Salim." He concluded nodding at the man in a lordly elegance. Understanding the dismissal Salim bowed.

"Wa an'tha, ya sa'eeda."

Khan waited till they left. His gaze was focused on the Arba's retreating back the entire time until she disappeared out of view.

Sa-lam al'laikum Salim, shook-ran la'koom a'la da'ool atha'ri : Peace be upon you, Salim. thank you for accepting my invitation.

Lae'la saeeda, Salim : Good night, Salim.

Wa an'tha, ya sa'eeda : And you, Sir.