Hello all! Sorry it has taken so long to get this chapter posted. It turned out to be much longer than I originally planned. In fact this is part one. I'm hoping to get part 2 done this weekend. Thank you so much for your reviews! I really appreciate all of them. I will try to reply to them. It's a huge help to know what people think. Please continue to let me know you thoughts. Enjoy!
As always I don't won either Prince of Persia or Senor. They are Walt's and Bob's.
There's a wicked wind still blowing on that upper deck
And there's an iron cross still hanging from around her neck
There's a marching band still playing in that vacant lot
Where's she held me in her arms one time and said
"Forget me not"
They walked beside the horses until they were out of the hills, letting them rest as much as possible after the intense morning ride. They had quickly buried Zhila's body outside the temple and away from the village, Tamina saying only the most basic of prayers before they moved on, promising to return and give the woman the burial she deserved.
"Have you a plan, little brother? Or was saving your future wife as far ahead as you thought? We won't make it to Nasaf alive with the water we have with us." Garsiv's tone was mocking but good natured, as he walked beside Dastan, leading Aksh.
"Yes, Prince Dastan, tell us how we are going to get to Nasaf and find a man whose face we haven't really seen." Tamina's sharp tongue had returned with their departure from the temple.
Dastan grinned at them. "Both rider's horses were lathered. They won't be able to ride far today without letting them rest. And from here there are three ways to Nasaf: the roads, straight through the Great Persian Desert, and through the Valley of the Slaves. The Hassansin does not have the water to ride through the desert. And last time through, they were unaware of what the Valley of the Slaves holds. He will have to take roads."
Garsiv returned his grin. "And the roads are marked by Persian outposts and army patrols. He will have to move without gathering too much attention. That will slow him down."
"So I guess that leaves us the Valley of the Slaves. Why must you always try to be the death of me Dastan?" Bis' mournful voice made Dastan laugh.
But before he could reply, Tamina interrupted. "Dastan hasn't told you about the Valley of the Slaves?"
Giving Bis an apologetic wince, Dastan answered. "Given that you sneaked out of the palace with the intent of sacrificing yourself, we didn't exactly have much time to prepare. We just grabbed Bis and enough supplies to make the trip to the temple and return to Alamut. But we will have to stop for the night, I will explain it all then."
With an affable nod, Bis nodded. "Just tell me this much, how high are my odds of dying when we reach the Valley?"
Dastan grinned. "Not nearly as high as the odds of you losing all your money. I'm told the races are fixed."
Bis looked baffled but game. "Since I'm usually betting on you my odds of losing money are always high."
Dastan gave his friend an amused dirty look.
Watching as the three men continued to taunt and tease one another, Tamina took in the details of each one. From the way Bis bantered with both brothers without thought to their rank, to the way Garsiv kept a watchful and protective eye on Dastan, as though uncertain of what move he would make next and wanting to anticipate it, to the relaxed set of Dastan's shoulders. The tension that had been in his shoulders as they buried Zhila and watered their horses seemed to have lessened.
"You're happy to be away from the temple," the words were out of Tamina's mouth before she thought about speaking them.
Dastan looked at her in surprise. "The last time we were there, Garsiv died and the whole village was slaughtered." His voice was quiet and soft. "To see him there is… disconcerting."
With a nod of understanding Tamina looked away, leaving him to conversation with his brothers.
The group made it out of the mountains and to the oasis where the Hassansin's snakes had attacked by nightfall. Rubbing down and tending their horses first, the group finally settled around a small fire, sharing enough food to hold them over for the night but and still leave enough for the morning.
Sitting in a semi-circle around the fire, Dastan told Bis about the dagger, how he died trying to help Dastan escape his father's court, the ostriches in the Valley of the Slaves, all of it. Sitting between Bis and Dastan, Tamina listened again to the story Dastan told. This time she focused not on the details of the dagger, as she had before, but to the subtle details of how his voice changed depending on the subject, listening for the details of how they had become as close as he said.
She remembered the overwhelming grief over his father and best friends' death, his obvious shame at suspecting his older brother, the pain of realizing it was Nizam who had betrayed them, grief again at his brother's deaths.
But this time she heard more. His bafflement with her seduction scheme to get the dagger, the hope as he realized the dagger could prove he hadn't been behind his father's death. He was still slightly annoyed about being hit over the head with the bone in the Valley of the Slaves. But he was both vague and amused at whatever he'd done to get revenge while they'd been there. The playful glint in his eyes when we looked at her sent a shiver down his spine.
There was a softness in his eyes when he talked about the sandstorm where she'd told him about the first Guardian. And he looked at her just for a moment with quiet longing when he said she'd helped him kill the lead Hassasin. Something had happened there, she was sure of it now. And hearing him speak of her death, she heard not just grief but defeat.
As she listened to him talk of grappling with Nizam to get the dagger out of the sand glass, a new question presented itself. Had he made the determination of how far back in time the dagger would take them? Or had that too been the will of the gods?
When he finished, Dastan waited anxiously for Bis' response. "Well, it explains why you looked at me as though you were seeing a ghost after the battle," he said with good humor. And seeing the ghosts lingering in Dastan's eyes he added. "And why we've spent so much time on the wall."
At Tamina's confused look, Bis clarified. "It's hard to dream when you've worked yourself to exhaustion."
At her startled glance, Dastan gave her an embarrassed look. "Living through your deaths once was more than enough. I'd rather not do it again."
Of course he wouldn't want to live through that again, no one would. He'd had to face down his uncle's treason twice. That was plenty. Her previous question coming to mind again, she asked quietly. "Dastan, did you know how far back in time you'd gone? Did you choose to go back to the end of the battle?"
Dastan looked at her in surprise. "I knew we'd gone back. But not how far. I half thought your gods would kill both Nizam and I for what had happened."
Her eyes searching his, she repeated, "You didn't choose."
Not braking her gaze he shook his head. "If I'd been the one to choose, I'd have gone back to before we attacked Alamut. Stopping Nizam before the battle occurred. When I should have stopped it to begin with."
"Given the amount of divine intervention you've had in your life Dastan, I'd say you went back as far as you were meant to go." Bis voice pulled Dastan and Tamina back into the group, as he raised his eyebrows and gave Tamina a significant look.
Looking at Tamina out of the corner of his eye Dastan gave Bis a quick grin.
"Such a noble prince." The words were a repeat of their last adventure, as was the mocking tone in Tamina's voice. "Good night, princes, Bis." With a regal nod, Tamina settled herself for the night, closing her eye and feigning sleep. Her face impassive and calm, Tamina tried to force away the feeling that gods had all but handed her to Dastan as a prize.
She was a princess and Guardian of the Dagger. She had always known they would define both her marriage and her future. But for the first time, that duty felt painful and disappointing, not the resigned honor she had always imagined.
They rode the half day's ride to the Valley quickly, but without putting too much strain on their horses. They finally slowed down when they reached the entrance to the Valley. The skeletons stuck on pikes and displayed at the entrance to the Valley gave pause to all but Dastan as they passed.
"Such wonderful friends you acquired on your journey, Dastan." Garsiv kept a wary eye on their surroundings as they entered the canyon.
"Not all of us can have …" Dastan's return insult was cut off by the sound of a knife burrowing into the sand at his feet. "Still disconcerting." He murmured to himself as he watched the knife vibrate in the ground.
The arrival of Sheik Amar and his merry band of tax evaders was the same as before, but no less impressive. "Have you heard of the Ngbaka? It is said they can decapitate two men with a single throw of their knives. This here is Seso. He's an Ngbaka. I had the good fortune of saving his life once. Tell me, Persians, do you have any reasons why he should keep you alive?"
"Ostrich racing," was Dastan's calm reply. "We've heard you have ostrich races. And we've come to trade our spare horse," he said gesturing to Zhila's horse, tied to walk behind Bis.
Sheik Amar raised an eyebrow looking both excited and leery at the same time. "How did you come to think we ran ostrich races?"
Dastan leaned toward the man, speaking quietly. "A group of men who worked in our city spoke of it. Said a man could win big at the races, and that the girls made it worth the ride across the desert."
Amar gave them an appraising eye. "You brought money with you, or you think a single horse will be enough to buy you into the races and pay for your stay."
Dastan grinned. "We have a little money, but we hope the trade the horse for more. We ride to the capitol from here. We want to trade for supplies. And have a good time."
Amar grinned, seeing money in his future, and gestured to Seso. "Get your knife! We'll take them back to the track. The races haven't started yet for the day. You are in time for the whole experience. What sort of supplies are you looking for. We have a wide variety of things to sell you. But to be honest, one horse won't get you to the capitol. Two horses, maybe." His eyes lingered on Aksh, but quickly moved on when Garsiv glared viciously. His gaze finally rested on Tamina. "You'd get a much better price for the girl. I'll trade you another camel's worth for her. She could make good money working here, and be less trouble for you."
Tamina gasped, her eyes narrowing in disgust and shock. Opening her mouth to answer, she was cut off by Dastan.
"I have it on good authority she worth at least two." Barely able to hold back his laughter with Tamina's even more outraged intake of breath, Dastan continued. "She's not an option." He reached out and pulled her fisted hand to his lips, kissing the back. She ripped her hand away. "But her horse is. Two solid mountain horses should get us to the capitol. And we have separate money for the races."
Amar gave the group a shrewd final glance before a winning smile broke across his face. "You just might have a deal there, Persian. Come and see what the Valley has to offer."
Garsiv and Bis walked besides the sheik's men as they were led on the Tour. Between the Ngbaka and the irate Princess of Alamut, Seso seemed a much less dangerous man to stand beside. Only Dastan had the nerve to stay nearby Tamina, though he seemed to find Tamina's outrage more humorous than dangerous.
The sight of the ostriches preparing for their races brought a started laugh out of Garsiv. "I wasn't actually expecting ostriches," he mumbled to an equally startled Bis. They gave each other baffled grins and immediately began laying money down on the races. When the first rounds of fermented goat's milk came around, they were happy to buy. Eyes watering from the potent drink, they joined their new found friends in getting good spots to watch the races. With liquor and money flowing, no one thought twice of any questions they asked about secretive men skulking through the Valley. At least so far, it seemed the Hassansin's didn't know they could ride through.
While Garsiv and Bis thoroughly enjoyed gathering information, Dastan and Tamina saw to the supplies they needed. Dastan earning amused and pitied looks as Tamina's wicked tongue took strips off him for his camel comment.
"And who was this 'authority' who told you I was worth two camels?" Tamina hissed at him, as they bartered for food, water, and new clothing for the trip to Nasaf.
"At least two. You're worth at least two." Dastan answered before arguing with a smelly man over wine skins. When they reached an agreement, Dastan turned back to her and said quietly. "The sheik. He told me you were worth at least two camels when I claimed to be trying to sell you to get money. He didn't believe me. Because really, you are worth more than one camel."
He was teasing her. She could see it in his eyes. He found the situation hilarious. Stepping closer to him, her eyes spitting fire, she asked. "And why would you tell him you were trying to sell me for camels?"
Dastan tried to bite back a grin, knowing she was going to flay him when he told her. But he couldn't resist. There was fire in her eyes, but he could see the faintest hint of pleasure there too. Just like before, Tamina enjoyed their battle of wills and wits. It wasn't often anyone challenged a princess, or a prince for that matter. Finding someone who dared was a rare thrill. "I'd already sold you to him."
Her eyes widened before they narrowed, a choked sound coming from her slightly opened mouth.
Glancing around to ensure no one was close enough to hear their words he continued before she could start ripping him to shreds. "You'd tried to kill me twice: once by the fire and once with a bone." He paused to reconsider. "Well four times. Since we repeated the fire side attack three times. And you'd left me to die in the desert after knocking me unconscious with a leg bone. You had it coming." His voice was far more amused than threatening as he watched her reaction.
"I was protecting the dagger," she defended. "I was on a sacred mission. It likely wasn't personal. You stood between me and the dagger's safety. Of course I was willing to kill you to protect it!" Tamina found it more than a little odd to be defending her own unremembered actions, but she couldn't come up with a better response to his 'you had it coming.' Seeing his smirk at her retort, she reconsidered. "Or perhaps I was just smarter before in my judgment of you."
His smirk growing into a full grin as he turned to haggle over dried meat, he said, "If it makes you feel any better, you were by far the most beautiful of the serving girls."
With a stomp of her foot, Tamina turned away, walking with as much dignity and grace as she could manage, feeling the eyes of the men around her linger as she did so. How dare he tell her she was beautiful in an insult! And how dare he say it like he meant it! Of all the men who'd ogled and offered for her hand, many had told she was beautiful, all of them hoping to gain her good will. Their attempts at charm oozing and oily, making her feel the need for a bath. But none had ever had the audacity to say it like it was an obvious fact and as a justification for why they had sold her to an ostrich racing sheik in revenge for attempted murder!
Well, when it was put like that she could almost see some humor in the situation. Almost. And he'd obviously not left her with sheik. But she didn't know if that intentional or just a lucky break on her part. Given what she knew of Dastan and herself, probably some of both.
Her temper still raised, she watched him carefully as he argued, cajoled, and all but begged for the supplies.
Such a strange prince. He was alternately charming and unbelievably aggravating, but he wasn't manipulating. He had no fear or dislike of her temper; in fact he seemed to enjoy battling with her, something she was resolutely going to deny she shared. He was without a doubt one of the more stubborn men she'd ever met. They had that much in common it seemed. But he was also one of the more honorable, her worth in camels aside. And how many princes could convince a dried up old man working with an ostrich racing sheik to trade them a saddle blanket for several pounds of fresh dates? While smiling genuinely the entire time! He hadn't even threatened the man!
Feeling the weight of the dagger in the satchel at her waist and the details he'd left out about their first journey, Tamina wondered again if there was more to the Persian prince than she'd believed. Clearly the gods had pushed her into his path twice now. And in such a manner that left them sneaking around his father's empire looking for traitors and the prospect of a wedding awaiting them in Alamut.
He wasn't opposed to that wedding. Thinking back to his proposal, she reevaluated his words. He genuinely looked forward to the day that they could tease one another in fun. She hadn't quite known how to take that statement at the time. She'd given him points for originality; it was certainly something no other suitor had ever said before. But now she was beginning to understand. He really did look forward to it because it was something they'd shared. And the irony was she found that reassuring in some twisted way. There was no disgust or condescension over her temper or her tendency to speak her own mind. They had literally gone from trying to kill and sell one another away to sincerely caring about each other. She could see the affection easily in Dastan, and given the occasional flashes of hurt she saw on his face when she doubted him, she must have returned it.
So where did that leave them? Dastan cared about her, but his affection was based on a Tamina who both did and did not exist. And she only knew this Dastan. How could they reconcile that into a marriage that did not push either of them into madness? And how was she going to deal with a husband who knew all the secrets he was never supposed to know? She might not have known Dastan for long, but she could say with great certainty that he was not going to simply turn a blind eye and pretend he wasn't aware of things.
Dastan turned briefly and caught her eye as he took the wrapped dates from the old man. Finishing her business with the cloak vendor, Tamina gathered up the three scarves and single long cloak, and carried them back to where Dastan was piling up their purchases.
Loaded down with food, water, and rugged traveling clothes they carried their purchases to the room, if it could be called a room, that the four were going to have to share for the night. Dreading even the thought of such an ordeal, Tamina focused elsewhere.
In her most arrogantly royal tone she baited him. "Are there any other details you left out, or was selling me to the Sheik your only remaining secret?"
Dastan started at her question, and for a brief instant his mind turned to the kiss they had shared and her words of wanting a life together. Ignoring the sharp ache those thoughts brought with them, Dastan pushed an amused smile to his lips.
But she must have seen something. Her eye sharpened, focusing intently on him. "Dastan. Tell me."
"Noth…no… Nothing else." Cursing his inability to lie with a straight face, Dastan closed his eyes. If she'd had any doubt at all, he'd surely just moved it.
"Dastan." The warning edge was back in her voice. "Tell me. I doubt it can be any worse that being sold to Sheik Amar."
"It's not worse. Not like that." He really didn't want to tell her this. Not this way. The memory of that kiss was something he would never forget. It was something he didn't want to forget. If anything good had come out of that horrible future, it was that kiss. And her words that wished they could be together.
If the memory of their kiss was bittersweet, her words were a blinding ache. But he couldn't hear those words without seeing her, grasping his hand, tears in her eyes, and then falling to her death. Those memories wouldn't mean anything to her now, or at least not yet.
Tamina pulled him back to the present, by stepping closer. "What are you hiding?" Her voice was softer, but suspicion was clear in her eyes.
His eyes dropped to her lips before he stepped back. He couldn't make himself say it was nothing important. And he doubted she would believe him if he did. Taking a deep breath, he forced the words out, his voice softer than he would have liked. "We kissed…before. In that other time. In the tunnels. Below the city." Could he not get a regular sentence out?
Tamina blinked up at him, pausing a moment before she raised an eyebrow in her familiar, arrogant way. "I let you kiss me? Well consider yourself lucky, Prince. I usually wound any man who tries."
For a moment Dastan started to give her an equally cheeky retort, but he paused. She thought he'd kissed her? That she'd stood there and let him kiss her. If he was going to be forced to tell her this, then she was going to understand exactly what had happened. It meant too much to him to let it go that easily.
"No, Princess. We kissed."
Tamina looked at him in confusion for a moment. "Yes, that's what you just said…" Her voice trailed off, her eye widening as she grasped his meaning. "Oh." She stepped back, her haughty attitude slipping for a moment as she processed his words. It took several moments before she looked back at him, confusion in her eyes. "Why does that hurt you?"
Dastan watched her carefully. "It was shortly before you died. You helped me kill the Hassansin. Jabbed one of his snakes into his face, so I could stab him. And then we kissed. It was the only truly good thing that happened in that whole other time." He could see curiosity in her eyes, but was still surprised by her next question.
"Who started it?"
Without effort the memory played back in his mind. The feel of her hands in his, the taste of her kiss, her feel of her lips against his, the look in her eyes when they parted. "I don't know," he answered. "We just both…kissed."
That answer seemed to unsettle Tamina, but she moved on with her questions. "And then I died. So it hurts to remember it?"
Figuring that if he had come this far, he should probably go for full disclosure, he continued. "After Nizam had pushed you off the ledge around the sandglass, when you were hanging from my arm, you said you wished we could have been together."
He didn't remember stepping closer to her, but they were now close enough that if he lifted his hands they would easily rest on her hips. Her head was tipped just slightly up as he looked down into her eyes. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss her. To find out if this Tamina's kiss was the same as before. But he could see the confusion and unease behind her eyes. This Tamina didn't know him that well. She didn't want his kiss, not really.
Dastan stepped back.
"You kissed me before, but you won't kiss me now?" Tamina questioned evenly.
"We kissed before. But we both wanted that kiss. It should be the same this time."
For a moment, Tamina didn't answer. Surprise was written clearly on her face. "Such a noble prince." For the first time it sounded like she almost meant it.
Okay, so a little bit of emotional stuff. We get more action next time. And more Bis and Garsiv... what have those two been up to while Dastan and Tamina flirted... I mean fought. :-) Let me know what you think!