Hello all! Thank you so much for your reviews. They are a huge help! This update still doesn't get a new piece of song , but hopefully you enjoy it anyway.
As always nothing belongs to me. Prince of Persia is Disney's and Señor is Bob Dylan's.
Please tell me what you think. And after this chapter I have a question for you. A little advice for the next chapter. Enjoy!
Layla
Dawn was not a particularly exciting time in the Valley of the Slaves. Other than a few groups setting out for home and a rather raucous sounding dice game no one was conscious. Dastan finished tying the water to the backs of their three horses, getting the group ready to leave.
He gave Aksh a gentle pat on his flank before moving over to where Bis and Garsiv were finishing the last of a quick breakfast several feet away. Tamina had wandered off for a few minutes of privacy before they left. Muffling a yawn, Dastan plucked a date from him brother's hand. He grinned, "Thanks."
Garsiv glared. "I was going to eat that."
"Wouldn't want you to weight Aksh down while we ride." Dastan gave his brother his most innocent and honest face.
"Says the man sharing a horse with their whip –tongued betrothed." Garsiv countered.
Dastan smirked. "Jealous?"
Garsiv laughed outright. "She may be a beauty, little brother, but I like my skin intact. We will likely have to rescue you from her temper half way to Nasaf."
"Probably sooner," Bis added cheerfully.
"Don't rescue me unless I ask for it." Dastan murmured, watching Tamina as she stopped beside Aksh when he whickered at her. Watching them together Dastan wondered if Aksh somehow remember the time before. The normally standoffish warhorse had taken to Tamina much faster this time, always seeking her out when Garsiv wasn't riding him. It was either that or his brother's horse just had good taste in women.
With the sun just starting to rise, the dawn light settled softly around Tamina. Even tired and worn, she drew Dastan's gaze. The hood of her traveling cloak was pulled back from her face, her hair straight and long down her back. She smiled when Aksh nuzzled her hand, stepping closer to gently touch his nose to hers.
"You are sad, Dastan." Garsiv drawled, in response to his watching Tamina. "You're not supposed to let her have the upper hand."
Pulling his eyes away from Tamina and Aksh, Dastan turned to face his brother, raising an eyebrow. "Who says she does?"
"The dopey look in your eyes," answered Bis, popping one last date into his mouth with a grin, before moving to pack the rest of the food away.
Dastan gave his friend a mock glare, bending down to help gather the food. "I'm wounded Bis."
"I'm disgusted." Retorted Garsiv, taking the bags Dastan handed him.
With their hands full of bags of food, the three snapped around at the sound of a violent yell. One of the men from the dice game came tearing out of the tent, a vicious look in his eyes and a sword in his hand. Angry and clearly running from the men chasing him, he ran the last steps between him and freedom, slashing his sword across Tamina's throat to grab Aksh's reigns.
Only steps away, Dastan shouted as Tamina fell, her eyes, wide with surprise and fear, glazing over before her body hit the sand. Throwing himself down beside her, Dastan fumbled with her cloak and blood, ripping the dagger from the satchel where she'd insisted on carrying it earlier. Hands shaking, heart racing, her blood on his hands, and the taste of vomit in his mouth Dastan slammed the jewel button down, rewinding time and watching the nightmare in reverse.
The gold shimmer of the sand all around him, Dastan watched each step the man made, determining just how he could get between the man and Tamina in the few precious seconds he would have when the world stopped spinning. Feeling the dagger melt out of his hand and return to Tamina's side, Dastan settled to the ground back beside Bis, just about to hand the bag of dates to Garsiv.
The world snapped back into place.
He threw the bag to the ground, drawing one of sword he'd slung across his back. Shouting at Garsiv, he was moving as fast and as soon as his body would allow. "Get Aksh!"
The man came barreling out of the tent once more, sword drawn.
Straining, Dastan arrived the crucial split second earlier. His left hand grabbed Tamina and drew her to him with enough force to snap her head back just as the man's sword split the air just behind her neck. Not expecting Dastan to have moved so fast, the man couldn't quite bring his sword back down in time to block, and Dastan's blade ran him through.
Swearing behind him, Garsiv pulled an irritated Aksh away from the man's body.
Dastan pulled his sword out of the man's gut.
His heart still thundering and hands shaking, Dastan kept his arm around Tamina. Her hands were between them, palms against his chest, her eyes the size of coins. Standing close enough to bump noses if they wished, they just stared at each other wide eyed for several moments, Dastan using all his self control to not kiss her. The urge to convince himself through touch and taste that she was alive and well was almost overwhelming.
The moment catching up with her, Tamina started to pull away and reach for the dagger when Shiek Amar and Seso came up, having broken up the fighting at the tent. Hearing the sheik, she stopped moving, unwilling to give the presence of the dagger away.
"Absolutely no more fermented goat's milk after midnight. That or no dice! This is will have upset the birds. Terrible races today." Amar sounded angry and hurt. He gazed at the dead man before turning to Dastan, his voice leery. "That was quite impressive, Persian. How did you move so fast?"
Not able to come up with a better answer he used the same words he had before. "Instinct," he said, his arm tightening reflexively around Tamina's waist as the memory played back in his mind. For just a moment, she leaned against him, her warmth comforting in spite of her pounding heart. When she stepped away, he let her go.
The sheik looked suspiciously between them. "Just what brought you to the Valley, Persian? It wasn't my races, and the only woman you look twice at is your own."
"We're just passing through." Tamina said, her voice regal and calm.
"And you just conveniently had money to bet with and swords to stop a cheating gambler?" Amar peered doubtfully at Dastan and Garsiv, as if trying to place them.
"We were in the right place, at the right time. Nothing more. But we thank you for your hospitality." Dastan said, trying to get the Sheik to move along. Amar had no reason to trust or help them this time around.
Seeing that they weren't going to give up any more information, Amar returned to his businessman persona. "Any man with money is welcome to bid on the races. Nothing makes the day go by like a good tax free race. No government conspiracies, no taxes. Just ostriches. Perhaps we'll see you around, Persian." Amar raised his hand to his mouth, stage whispering to Dastan, his eyes on Tamina. "If she's still giving you trouble, bring her by on the next trip. I'll give you a great deal on camels."
Dastan heard Tamina's breath catch in anger and for a moment the absurdity of the situation made him want to laugh hysterically. To once more debate Tamina's worth in camels only minutes after watching her throat cut nearly drove him crazy. Before Dastan could recover enough to answer, Amar moved on to talk to Garsiv, encouraging him and Bis to return anytime.
Taking a deep breath Dastan stepped over to his own horse and mounting up. He extended his hand to Tamina, moving his foot from the stirrup to allow her to climb up behind him. Her arm around his waist, Dastan turned his horse to follow behind Aksh. With Bis bringing up the rear, they set out for Nasaf.
Sitting behind Dastan, one arm wrapped around his waist for balance Tamina shifted slightly to get more comfortable. Dastan was still tense, his body language as rigid as she'd ever seen. The group had remained silent until they were out of the Valley to avoid anyone overhearing what they said.
"Dastan, what happened back there?" Tamina kept her voice gentle but firm. She wanted answers.
She felt the ripple run through his muscles, and tightened the arm around his waist temporarily. "You were running before he even left the tent. Why did you use the dagger?"
She felt Dastan draw in a deep breath before he spoke, his voice tight. "He slit your throat. The first time. You were between him and Aksh, so he slit your throat. I was talking with Bis and Garsiv. Not paying attention, and he slit your throat."
Reflexively, Tamina reached her free hand up to her neck. "I died," she said softly.
Dastan gave her a mirthless bark of laughter as he turned to partially face her. "If front of my eyes. Again." He looked away. "Your body hit the sand just as I got there. I wasn't fast enough."
Focusing on his words and not on the queasy feeling she got anytime they discussed her death, she responded. "You cannot think to save me from everything. Expecting attacks from your uncle's men is one thing, but you can't expect to anticipate rogue gamblers choosing that moment to get caught and run. If it is my destiny to die, Dastan, you can't change that."
Dastan pulled up on the reigns, bringing their horse to a stop. He turned to face her as much as could without getting off the horse. "I will not let you die again. Not when I can stop it. You were not meant to die at the hands of a cheating gambler."
She stared him straight in the eye. "And when the time comes that I must die for the dager?"
"Then I will give my own life to find another way before I see yours sacrificed." His blue eyes were steely with resolve.
"Destiny is determined by the gods, Dastan. You cannot think to alter my life just because you do not wish to see me die. As the dagger's Guardian I can and will do anything to protect it. It is my duty and my calling. It's an honor."
Dastan snorted. "And so I should have let you die at the hands of a gambler just to prove that I understand why you must protect that cursed knife? I know what your duty is, Princess. But I also know mine. You are the dagger's Guardian, but as your husband I am yours."
Tamina glared at him, leaning forward to make her point. "You are not my husband," she hissed.
"Yet." Dastan smirked.
Opening her mouth to give an equally aggravating retort, Tamina wondered if they had been like this before. Baiting one another at every possible moment, and ending up close enough to either kill or kiss one another. She started to reply. Her quip was superseded by Garisv.
"Would this be one of those moments where we aren't supposed to protect you?"
So, now for the advice? To add the slightly mushy fireside middle of the night conversation, or just get the group to Nasaf?