Authors Notes: 2/3 exams done and I'm going to celebrate with another chapter!
Review replies:
Starfish: Oh, I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty more of Nasreen sometime soon! ;)
Sorree: That's a shame, I love Zolm! :3 But then again, I have a thing for bad boys! Hehe... But thank you for saying I've developed his character well, I'm flattered!
Only two reviews on the last chapter? I don't do this for the reviews, I do it to shut up the mini Dastan, Tamina, Zolm, and whoever else is roaming around in my overactive brain. If you're a writer though, you know how good a review feels, and when I got 9 on chapter 2 it was just amazing. It would be nice to hear from you, see what you like, or even what you didn't like. I'm open to criticism! But, I will continue to write even if no-one's reading!
Chapter 4 – Lost and Found
Zolm watched eagerly as the dark snake slithered over the sleeping body of the Alamutian princess. The confrontation between the Persian prince and her had been somewhat delightful. To watch them both so clearly without being noticed gave him immense pleasure.
When the princess had threatened to call her guards, he had momentarily been alarmed at the very real possibility of discovery. When they hadn't come at her call, she would have opened her door to find them slumped as if in sleep. The real truth that they were dead would have been discovered shortly after, and the palace would have been sent into chaos. A small hindrance, he thought, in completing his task. Thankfully, she had failed to go through with her threat.
His thin lips moved quickly as he whispered to the snake. Anyone else wouldn't have heard a sound, yet the black asp could easily understand its command and reared its head for the strike. Not to kill, she had been instructed, only to stun. As she brought her venom filled fangs down on Tamina's pure skin, it hisser ferociously and dropped onto the marble floor, writhing as if in agony. Zolm stepped quickly forward to comfort the creature.
"The rumours are true," he mused as he looked down on the face of the princess as she continued to sleep; blissfully unaware of what was going on. The serpent retreated up her master's cloak with an air of defeat.
Everyone knew that Alamut was a Holy city. However, he hadn't predicted the unnatural force which had prevented the snake from causing her harm. Maybe there was more to this god worship than he had given it credit.
"We shall have to do this the old way then," he declared.
From inside his robes he produced a vial of liquid. Taking a leaf from Nizam's book, he had invested in an ulterior plan. He grabbed a piece of cloth that lay on a chair by her bed and began to fold it with precision until it formed a neat square of fabric. Zolm poured the concoction onto the cloth until it was sufficiently soaked. Then he pressed it, firmly, over Tamina's nose and mouth.
The princess awoke with a start and screamed through the material. Her sound was muted and almost immediately her terror filled eyes began to droop. Within moments, she was unconscious. Zolm removed the cloth and then reached out with his hand. He drew a finger down her cheek with a flash of menace in his eyes.
"Sleep princess," he whispered, "It will be done by morning."
Dastan was awake early, as usual. Since the raid on Alamut, he had vowed to Tamina that as penance for his part in the attack, and as proof of his loyalty to her, he would spend a few hours every day working on the repairs to the city. His wedding day would be no exception.
To the east, they were rebuilding some of the sacred pathways to the Sand Glass which had been purposefully collapsed when it had been clear the Persian army would breach the walls. To the south, they were rebuilding the part of the town that had fallen victim to the catapulting. This was where he was working today.
Usually, he would work until lunch, but today, he would break earlier, so as to have time to prepare himself for the formalities later in the day. Bis and the rest of Dastans 'street rabble' as Garsiv liked to refer to them were helping too, although it was completely voluntary. It was his atonement, but they had insisted. The loyalty of his men always astounded him, and he was grateful for it.
"Pass it round," he directed as a boy arrived with a large canteen of water. When it came to him, he drank deeply. They were rebuilding a section of houses and there were many people who had gathered to watch the 'Lion' of Persia reduced to the work of slaves and carpenters. He felt a little bit helpless as he was certainly not a builder by nature, and could only provide basic assistance such as digging and lifting.
"Aeesha! Come away!" a voice called and as Dastan turned around to see a small girl had wandered in amongst the builders. She couldn't have been more than six years old, and was looking at him with her large, brown eyes.
"This is my house," she said, pointing to the ruined building that they were clearing rubble from.
"Is it?" Dastan asked with a smile, as he lowered himself on his haunches, so as to be at the child's eye level.
"The Persian's destroyed it," she continued, and Dastan had to look away for a moment in shame. It was easy to forget the innocent victims of war in the heat of battle. What if she had been in this house at the time of the assault? An image of the little girl, lying dead in a mass of rubble flashed onto his mind, sending an unwelcome shiver down his spine.
"Papa say's bad things about the Persians. I don't think he likes them very much."
"If I was your father," Dastan replied, "I wouldn't like the Persian's very much either."
"Aeesha, please!"
A veiled woman stepped forward and grabbed the girl by the hand. Her eyes, although scared, held contempt. He was almost certain it was aimed at him and not the child.
"It's alright," Dastan said, "She's no trouble."
He wanted to say something to her, an apology on behalf of his people maybe, but the disgrace was too great. If he could have chosen to, he would have gone further back in time and done all he could to expose his Uncle before they'd even gotten as far as Alamut. The downside to this was that he would never have met Tamina. Perhaps he would have tried to court her formally, but all the 'what if's' were pointless. He had to live in the here and now.
The woman hurried away, having picked the child up in her arms. Just then, he noticed a group of men on horses coming towards him from the other end of the long street.
"Dastan!" the man at the head of the group yelled as they approached and he recognised the voice of his bother Garsiv.
"Brother!" Dastan shouted back with a smile, "To what do I owe the honour?"
His greeting was joyous, but as Garsiv approached he could sense that there was something gravely wrong.
"Dastan," he said curtly, "I'm sorry to be the bearer of this bad news, but… the princess has vanished."
In the moment that it took Dastan to digest this knowledge, Bis had stepped up from where he was working and laughed.
"Got cold feet, has she?" he jested, slapping his friend on the back. Dastan shot him a sobering look that wiped the silly smile from his face.
The look on the elder prince's face was that of mild disgust at the vastly inappropriate comment of his brother's right hand man.
"I doubt that she would have gone to the trouble of killing her own guards over a bit of pre-wedding nerves," he said venomously. He turned back to face Dastan.
"All of the palace guards have been mobilised in the search, don't worry, we'll find her."
"I'm coming with you," the younger prince said immediately.
Garsiv smiled in agreement.
"I thought as much."
He threw his brother the reins of an unmanned horse in their company and Dastan leapt onto the back. Bis and his fellow men watched in sobered silence as their prince and his brother galloped through the streets.
"Where have the guards been sent?" Dastan yelled to his brother, over the noise of the beating hooves.
"To the North, South, and West. We ride East."
Dastan nodded, having nothing further to say. Then he sent up a silent prayer, to any gods listening, that she would be found alive and unharmed.
Holding a little phial of liquid between his thumb and forefinger, Zolm watched as the sun peeped over the distant dunes, shining its first rays through the little glass bottle. He smiled at the pleasing colour of the blood within.
Tamina was laid on makeshift bed in the sand by the trees, so that she would be shaded if she failed to wake by the time the sun's heat was at its strongest. A small stream trickled behind her, something that would be much needed when she roused. The drug which was still affecting her, would make her thirsty when she roused.
The Hassansin pocketed the precious substance and turned back to look at her. He dropped to his knees beside her. Leaning down, he brushed some of her silky black hair aside and spoke gently into her ear. A grin that was reminiscent of a hellish demon, passed over his pale lips.
"Thank you, your highness," he breathed, "Your contribution to the cause is invaluable."
Their journey hadn't been necessary; no doubt he would have managed to extract her blood somehow, without leaving the mysterious protectiveness of her city. However, this way he could cause a stir, and throw his enemies off guard. It wasn't his usual style, but while all the guards were looking for their precious princess, he would slip into the city unnoticed.
Suddenly, she began to move. The drug was finally beginning to wear and these movements were the beginnings of her waking process. Zolm remained motionless until she breathed a sigh and ceased her movements. The Hassansin raked his icy eyes over her face as if her beauty possessed him. Then whatever way the princess held her face in sleep, he was immediately struck by the thought of Nasreen. He wondered casually what had happened to the gypsy thief he'd crossed paths with in Nasaf, but the notion was fleeting and he pushed her to the back of his mind again. His horse stamped the ground impatiently and Zolm realised that they would have noticed her missing by now. They weren't far from the city walls, and if he wanted to avoid a confrontation, he'd have to leave. He jumped onto the large black warhorse.
With a cry, he kicked the flanks and the beast took off like a crossbow bolt, disappearing into the cloud of upset dust and sand, which whirled around him like a tornado.
Tamina was gone. This was the only thing that Dastan's mind could concentrate on as he and Garsiv, along with some of Garsiv's cavalry, rode out of Alamut. They rode east, towards the valley of the slaves.
He began to puzzle over her disappearance. Who had taken her? There was the possibility of a jealous leader from another land, who had been planning to make a political match with Tamina. To think of another man touching her enraged him and he had to quickly think of another explanation before he was driven mad with envy.
She could have been taken for ransom. It was no secret that the riches inside Alamut's walls were plentiful, and the people would have paid any price for their beloved Princess.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear Garsiv, and the elder brother had to repeat himself.
"Dastan!" he snapped loudly, "Are you even listening to me?"
The younger prince looked up dumbly.
"I was saying, we're going to have to stop by that stream there. It's the last place for water that we know of in this direction. We would do well to water the horses and fill our canteens! We had no time for that before we left."
Dastan wanted to protest that they had already lost precious time on Tamina's captors, but a small part of his brain which was still functioning logically agreed with Garsiv. They could be searching for days and it was sensible to plan ahead.
With a nod of agreement, Dastan and his brother steered their mounts towards the distant trees. Their men at arms followed.
As he knelt by the stream, Dastan filled cupped hands with water and splashed it on his sweaty and dusty face. The cool spring water on his face gave him a shock and, for the first time since he'd learnt of Tamina's disappearance, he felt as though he was thinking straight. And then, the idea came to him.
"We should follow the stream," he voiced, "If they came this way, then they would have had to stop for water, right? We might come across some sign of them."
Garsiv nodded in agreement.
"And we'll walk, to save the horses."
Although the Persian horses were noted for their impressive stamina, their strength still knew limits.
So, the small group set off downstream. The horses hooves splashed in the water, Garsiv and his men talked, but Dastan remained silent as he led his mount slowly. While he was buried in his own thoughts, he scanned the ground, constantly searching for any tell-tale signs of hoof or foot prints. He was concentrating so hard that he forgot to look up occasionally.
"Look!" a voice from behind him called.
Dastan glanced quickly over his should to see where he was being told to cast his gaze. The guard was pointing directly in front of him and as he turned around, he could immediately see what had caused the fuss. About 200 hundred paces in front of him, a figure emerged from their hiding place behind a weather beaten tree. Even from afar, she was unmistakable.
"Tamina!" he yelped for joy. Dropping the reins of his horse, he ran toward her, soaking himself as he kicked and splashed through the stream. Dastan wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and fling her around in elation. However, as he approached he could see her face was pale and she was unsteady, and slow to react. He had to settle with taking her gently by the shoulders.
"Are you alright?" he asked eagerly.
Tamina took a confused moment to consider this, then replied, "Yes… I think so."
"You're not hurt?" he persisted, checking her for signs of wounds.
"I'm fine," she insisted, "But I don't know what I'm doing here."
Her voice was shaky and for a rather worrying moment, Dastan thought she was going to burst into tears. Emotional women terrified him.
"You were kidnapped, and probably drugged by the looks of you," Garsiv said as he approached. He handed back the reins of the horse and gave his younger brother a reproachful look for leaving the animal at his heel. Dastan didn't even seem to notice.
"You gave me such a fright," he whispered to her.
"I thank you for your concern Prince," she replied formally.
Her gratitude sounded forced rather than sincere and it wounded him a little. Last night he had been sure they'd made progress. Now, he wasn't convinced. But no matter, she was safe and that was his main concern. Even as he thought about it, he felt giddy with relief.
"You know," he chuckled, "We had ever single palace guard out looking for you and you weren't even that far from…"
"What?" Tamina spluttered suddenly.
Dastan was baffled.
"What did you just say?" was her demand as her brown eyes blazed with accusation.
"Every palace guard is out looking for you?"
Tamina gritted her teeth.
"Including the ones guarding the high temple?" she continued, her voice getting higher and higher.
Realisation flashed in his eyes, and Dastan's face fell. All that he could muster in reply was, "Oh…"
"You idiot!" she screeched, kicking sand at him in rage, "How could you be so stupid?"
Dastan looked sheepish. He wanted to tell her that Garsiv had ordered the mass exodus of guards from the palace but she spoke again.
"Take me to Alamut, now!"
Obediently, he climbed up onto the horse and offered out his hand to help her up. With anger burning on her face, she took his hand and was hoisted effortlessly.
Garsiv looked at his brother and then the princess in turn, confused as to what in the gods the last few moments between them had been about.
"I'll explain later," Dastan rushed, "I'll see you back at the palace!"
He cracked the reins and his horse broke into a gallop.
"If you know so much about the dagger," Tamina hissed in his ear, "Why would you leave it unguarded? Don't you know how important and sacred it is? If it's gotten into the wrong hands…"
"Of course I know," he snapped irritably, "Forgive me if I was more concerned with your safety than that of the dagger."
"I'm thrilled that you would choose me, Dastan, over the fate of humanity," she sneered.
"It's not as easy as that…"
"Oh, do elaborate."
He sighed heavily, as his anger melted away into a heartfelt admission.
"I cannot choose between you and the world when, to me, those are both one in the same."
As the meaning of his words revealed themselves to her, Tamina was struck dumb. Had his words been said in any other manner she would have found them foolish and patronising. But the sincerity that had been held within them had startled her and she remained silent for a long time. To Dastan, who couldn't see her face as she wrestled with this new knowledge, her silence meant offence, or disgust, or indifference. Combined with her cold greeting earlier upon her rescue, he had it settled in his mind that he had some serious work to do if he was ever to win her heart.
The next time someone spoke, Alamut was within sight.
"I'm sorry," he said as soft as it was possible and still be heard over the rushing wind and pounding hooves.
"We shall see soon enough whether your apologies are necessary Prince. Save them for now."