AN: I honestly don't have the want to write this story. It really is starting to feel like work but mostly because I have bigger things on my mind. So these chapters may be shorter because of it. Eventually I will get back to it, but at least I have not given up. Plus I know of few of you want instant answers, but the story of Garsiv and Iryanna isn't going to be just explained in one chapter. So be prepared to have to wait for the answers you want.

She did not understand the emotions that she felt at seeing her husband standing before her alive. She however did understand the rage that coursed through her at seeing the woman who stood next to Garsiv. It was not uncommon for a man to take more than one wife, especially royalty. The King of Persia had four wives, and many more concubines. Though she knew this could happen, she had no idea that it would happen before she even got to consummate her own marriage to the man. In a way this would mean that she wasn't his first wife. That fact infuriated her all the more.

There was a hierarchy among men, and there was a hierarchy among their wives. The first lay with her husband was considered the head of his household. If this woman had already lay with Garsiv that meant that Shraga was not the first wife. Her hands mad angry fists and her nails bit into her flesh because of it. She clenched her teeth, grinding them together. If she wasn't careful, she would break a tooth from the pressure.

Garsiv gave her a sincere smile which for a moment blew at the flames that licked her. She could tell from his smile that he had missed her as much as she missed him. As much as that pleased her, there was a golden haired vixen that made her realize that eventually he got tired of missing her. The anger came back tenfold. If they were alone she would have exploded into a fit of anger, screaming, throwing things, maybe even attacking him. Yet all she could do standing in the crowded throne room was turn an intense shade of crimson that almost matched her hair.

The look she gave him didn't stop him from coming to her and kissing her simply on the cheek. She wanted him to take her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but there was others around. She was only going to get the kiss on the cheek. She took the scrap she was given, and was thankful for that.

"I have missed you," he whispered as he tucked some of her hair behind her ear. She gave him a small smile. She wanted to tell him how she felt though. Later she would tell him. Later she would let her anger spill over. But also later she would take him into her arms and love him fiercely.

"How?" she asked instead though. Their eyes locked and he understood he needed to explain how he had come to stand before them, especially with a new wife. Shraga gave the woman credit though, she stood there demurely.

Xxxxxx

After he found the weapons the night went pretty much the way it always did. Garsiv served the king, just like he usually did. Everything was the same, except the weapons he had hidden in his pallet on the ground. Everything he did though that usually caused him to wish for anything less humiliating caused him to smile. Sometimes he wished that he could just be tied to a post where men could throw things at him. Acting a servant to the King humiliated him. He had it all figured out though, and he could not wait until the time came for him to do as he wanted.

It was sloppy of the King to leave the weapons practically lying around. Who knew that the King would be his own undoing. Garsiv had to sober himself though. He was too happy and he had to calm himself. He shouldn't celebrate before the deed was done. The deed would be done though, and when that moment came it would be sweet. Garsiv would eventually be home again with his wife. The thought of Shraga in his arms again warmed his heart.

Before he knew it, the King was ready for bed, which really meant he was ready to take the scared woman chained to his bed. All of this meant that it was time, time for him to regain his life back. It had almost been an entire year. He couldn't waste another day, not that he was just wasting days being a prisoner.

He went to lie on his pallet, to give pretense that he was doing what he is supposed to do. The woman on the bed whimpered like an animal and that made Garsiv act quicker than he had expected to. He grabbed the sword and dagger and was upon the King within breaths times.

The King gave a small gasp, but Garsiv clamped a strong hand over his mouth to stifle any other noise that tried to come out. The dagger was plenty enough to kill the King with. The blade slid into his back between the ribs straight to the heart. The King trembled and Garsiv felt it through the hilt of the dagger and the hand clamped securely over his mouth.

Garsiv leaned forward and whispered his farewell to the King. At that same moment the King let go of his last breath. He pulled the blade out and blood trickled from the body. Garsiv stared down at the dead King only for a moment, a huge smile plastered on his sand covered face. It felt good. It felt almost sinful. He was a free man again, well almost. He still needed to leave.

The woman whispered her thanks and Garsiv knew then he couldn't leave her. He hurried and unchained her. It was an easy feat to accomplish when the key to her bonds was on the hip of the kings trous. As she stood, rubbing her sore, cut wrists, Garsiv went about grabbing things they would need. Mostly that consisted of a few furs, some clothing, and as much food and water skins that he could stuff into a pack. They had to travel light, but they had to have enough supplies to make it back through the dessert.

He handed her a cloak and she glanced at him funny. She had obviously thought since he freed her, he meant to just leave her. There wasn't time to explain, they could be caught at any moment. So he just gently took her hand into his after helping her put the cloak on. Her skin was too smooth, and he found himself thinking of Shraga's calloused hands. This woman did not know work the way his wife did.

"We must hurry," was all he said. She nodded her acceptance of him taking her with him. It was better than being alone. He cut a small hole into the tent and pulled her through it. His next move was to steal a few horses. In the distance he could see the King's own destrier. It would be another sweet victory to steal that horse, but he knew war horses. They were only faithful to their rider. So instead he made his way to three pack horses towards the outskirts of the herd. They nickered softly at their approach but did not spook.

He cooed them gently as he saddled them with the supplies that lay in a heap. These men didn't expect anyone to try and escape, so they didn't take their saddles with them when they unsaddled their horses. It was within a few moments that he had two of the three horses saddled and the other one packed with the things they needed to survive.

He helped the golden woman mount her horse. She seemed uneasy in the saddle. It made no matter, she would learn to ride quickly or he would be forced to leave her behind. Before he too mounted his horse, he checked his belt. He had both his sword and his new dagger. Once he was sure he had everything he needed, he was on the horse and they were one their way into the surrounding darkness of the dessert.