AN: my sincerest apologies for this chapter arriving a day late. I am currently on vacation and have not had a single moment to sit and write or upload prior to now.
ALSO, please note that the publication date of Forgotten Melodies has changed. I originally had moved it to 5/20 because I would have been traveling the week of its original scheduled date, and now I've got to move it back to that original date because I've simply not got enough time to finish this to my satisfaction (or yours, for that matter) in the time remaining. HAVE NO FEAR, IT WILL BE OUT NEXT MONTH, on its original date of 6/19, which happens to be my best friend's birthday.
Anyway, on to the story. Enough from the windbag.
While Hesham rested, Saeed packed a few essentials for the journey from the young man's plentiful stock of supplies. Hesham's greatest concern was survival, clearly. Though he had a plentiful bounty of coins in his purse, he also had food, clothing, and medical supplies stored carefully in his trunks and drawers.
Fautimeh sat on the balcony in the last rays of the setting sun, drinking in the delicious free time afforded to her now that she was no longer a slave.
Soon it would be time for the three of them to take their leave, and both Saeed and Hesham were acutely aware of how dangerous their journey would be. The same violence the Shah had shown to Hesham just hours before would be turned on all three of them. They were risking their lives to escape that night.
It was their only chance at life. Twice now the door had been tried. On the second attempt, two officers nearly made it inside. It was only because of Saeed's weight in addition to the heavy trunk that lay in front of the door that kept them from entering.
Through the end of the day, Hesham drifted in and out of consciousness until he woke finally and sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and his skin drenched in cold sweat. He couldn't remember the dream that had frightened him, but it had been more terrible than any dream he'd ever had. The very thought of a dream so terrible sent him into a panic.
He rolled and thrashed about as he fought off the invisible demons that still plagued him even after the nightmare had finished. He managed to tangle himself in his blankets and fall off the bed, landing in a sad, thrashing heap and making sounds not unlike a frightened cat.
At first, Saeed had thought him to still be sleeping, but when he crashed to the floor in a crumpled heap of blankets and bone, he rushed over to help.
He could remember the long wagon ride into Persia, when Hesham was but a nameless teenager. He'd fought sleep every night, only succumbing to his exhaustion after multiple days of forcing himself to stay awake. At first, he and the other men riding in the wagon had assumed that the boy was afraid they'd kill him in his sleep, but the terrified noises the boy would make as he slept soon helped Saeed form another theory.
Sure, the boy had been afraid, but not of death. He was afraid of what plagued him from within his own mind. When he woke, he often would look around with wide, frightened eyes as if he'd forgotten where he was. Saeed's heart hurt when he saw that same, terrified expression fixed on the young man's face then.
"Easy, easy," he murmured, kneeling beside where Hesham fought to free himself from the blankets. He reached a tentative hand out toward the boy's shoulder, and was met with a vicious snarl. He jerked his hand back, surprised at the reaction he'd received, but after a moment of thought he understood.
Hesham was, essentially, a feral animal. Trapped and frightened, of course he would lash out at anyone or anything foolish enough to get too close, no matter their intentions. Having never been treated like anything but a monster, he'd never developed any amount of trust for other humans.
"Hesham," Saeed said, trying to keep his voice low and soothing. "I am trying to help you, I need you to stop thrashing." He looked over to where his daughter cowered fearfully in the corner. "Fautimeh, bring me the scarf I laid out by the bags."
The girl hesitated, but hurried across the room to do as she was told. Once the scarf was in her father's hands, she scurried back to her corner and hid once more. Saeed tried once more to put his hand on the young man's shoulder to calm him. He barely managed to pull his hand back before he was bitten.
He then tried holding the scarf out to the young man. "Calm yourself, Hesham. You are safe." For now, he thought, but he knew it would be better to keep that to himself. No need to cause the boy further worry. Hesham's thrashing slowed and he fixated on the scarf. It was made of blood red silk with gold embellishments. It was one of his favorites.
"If you will allow me to help you, I will free your arms so you can put this on," Saeed said. Hesham whimpered uncomfortably, but he ceased his thrashing and allowed Saeed to help him. Once his hands were freed, he tore the scarf from Saeed's grasp and tied it over his head. The second that his face was obscured by the scarf, his entire demeanor changed.
He took the blanket closest to his body with him as he climbed to his feet, shielding the Persian's daughter from having to witness his gaunt body a second time. Wordlessly, he crossed the room to the trunk that blocked the door. He pulled out a set of black and red robes that matched his scarf nicely. He pulled it on and fastened it securely with a wide, loose belt, but not before inspecting his stitches.
Though the wound had turned an angry pink against the pale gray/cream of his skin, the stitches did not seem to have been damaged during his meltdown. This calmed him further, as the idea of allowing the older man to touch him again made his skin crawl and his breath catch uncomfortably in his chest.
At the same time, he found himself longing for the warmth of the other man's skin against his own. He was perpetually cold, even in the hot summer sun. The warmth in Saeed's touch made him drowsy. For a wild moment, he found himself fantasizing about falling asleep beside the man, leeching his body heat.
He dismissed the thought as suddenly as it had presented itself, embarrassed to have even considered it. Saeed had proven to not be as harsh as other men he encountered, but none of that gave him any reason to think the man would entertain his desperate yearning to be held.
"The sun's going down," Saeed said after a long silence. "We ought to decide our next course of action."
"I agree," Hesham said quietly.
"Will you be able to—" Saeed couldn't finish his sentence when fixed with a glare filled with that much contempt.
"Just because I am injured does not mean I am incapable of moving stealthily through the palace. I made it from the north tower the corridor out there before the pain came to be too much."
"I meant no disrespect."
Hesham looked the other man up and down, trying to decide if he believed him. It wasn't as though he had any reason not to, other than the general distrust he felt for all humans he had encountered thus far.
"I merely was wondering if you would rather rest one day more—"
"The longer we remain here, the more certain the chance that the Shah will send someone to finish the job. No doubt he knows I did not die from his attempt today. Another concentrated attempt would likely bring me down. We should go now and cover as much ground as possible before sunrise." Hesham's words were spoken with a finality that left the room silent in their wake.
"Now, we will have to remain out of sight as much as possible. After the little stunt he pulled in the north tower, I doubt he's left much of the palace shrouded in shadow tonight."
"There is a service tunnel we may be able to use. My men used it to transfer prisoners from sentencing to the tower. If you haven't been using it, they may not even remember it exists."
"I know of the tunnel," Hesham said with a sigh. "I repurposed it for the Shah's use. It is a torturous maze of mirrors now." Saeed looked confused.
"How? The tunnel was a narrow stretch of pitch black darkness beneath the gardens!"
"I've had a long time to study and put what I've learned to practice. It's only had one collapse since, and it was an easy fix."
"So it's impassable."
"I never said impassable. I merely pointed out that it is not the tunnel you remember it to be. It would not be wise to bring your daughter through the tunnel as it is today."
"We may have no other choice. I hold no doubt in my mind that the Shah is aware of my presence here now. I am a wanted man myself," Saeed said. "If you know a better way…"
Hesham sighed and hoisted one of the bags they'd packed onto his shoulder. He tried not to show the scowl of pain as the bag brushed against his stitches, but he knew Saeed had seen it.
"I can guide you through it," he said, steadying the bag on his shoulder as the other man crossed the room to take it away.
"You shouldn't carry anything heavy," Saeed said. "You are pretty seriously injured." Hesham couldn't help but laugh as he fought against the older man. "What is so funny? You will further injure yourself."
"That's the first time I've heard anyone describe me as 'pretty' anything," Hesham chuckled. At once, Saeed looked positively horrified by his choice of words. His expression only served to make Hesham laugh even more boisterously. The sound echoed through the large room, stopping only when someone knocked forcefully on the door. The three fell deathly silent as they turned their attention to the door, which was still blocked off by a heavy trunk, but what good could that really do against an army?
"Boy, we know you're in there. Come, you have been summoned to appear before the Shah."
Saeed and Hesham looked at each other as if they were trying to communicate a plan with only their eyes. The older man didn't think it was working; it was as if they were speaking two entirely different languages.
"Boy, you will answer now!" The guard— Hesham knew him, he had often been tasked with guarding the north tower before being selected as one of the Shah's personal guards— was growing agitated. Hesham knew he had to act quickly, but as he looked around the room in hopes of coming up with an idea, he began to feel panic clawing at his ribs.
He took a deep breath and said, "I no longer work for the Shah. He made that abundantly clear when he attempted to kill me. I will be taking my leave of this place tonight." Saeed grimaced and let out a groan of frustration.
The guard seemed unsure of how to respond to what he'd been told.
"I'm— I'm not to return without you," he said after a long pause.
"That is not my concern," replied Hesham. "You can deliver my words to the Shah or you can remain out there, waiting for me. I promise you that the second choice is not the correct one."
"The Shah will kill him—" Saeed began to whisper, but Hesham put his hand up to silence him.
"It is not my concern," Hesham said, narrowing his eyes.
The guard— who likely was not alone— remained outside the door for a long time, waiting for Hesham to change his mind. Eventually, they did seem to wander away, though nobody inside the room had any doubts at all that there were still guards in the corridor.
"Why would you announce our plan? We needed to go unnoticed for it to work!" Saeed demanded. Hesham grinned.
There was something terribly frightening about the grin. His mouth seemed to open wider than was natural.
"The Shah is a simple man who believes himself to be smart," Hesham said. "He will expect me to waltz right out the main gate. That is where he'll concentrate his forces."
"And if he finds us we'll die."
"If we remain in this room, we'll die," Hesham said. He was growing annoyed with Saeed's apparent inability to understand even the simplest concept. "We ought go now before he stations more outside my door."
The older man opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it as he was met with an angry glare from the man who was currently layering a mask over the scarf that already covered his face. All that remained visible were the man's two glowing yellow eyes.
Once Saeed had helped Fautimeh ready herself, he slung two bags across his chest and joined Hesham at the door. Fautimeh followed close behind.
"There is an entrance to the maze in the garden, between here and the west tower," Hesham whispered. "Stay close behind me, especially once we enter the maze. We shall have precious little time to waste."
The two men pushed the trunk away from the door, and as it slid away they could hear footsteps and low voices out in the corridor. They froze, waiting and listening.
Hesham took a deep breath before pulling the door open and shouting in the angriest, most intense voice he could muster. "Insolent fools! You would dare to challenge me? I have laid waste to men in greater numbers than you with skill and ease the likes of which you've never seen!"
At least one of the men in the corridor dropped his weapon and fled, leaving Saeed to scramble for it as Hesham drew his knife.
As Saeed straightened up, a knife flew past his head and missed cutting his ear off by less than a hair's width. He felt the metal graze his skin as he watched Hesham fly— there was no way that the boy's feet were touching the floor— at the remaining three guards, who were steadily backing away. Their eyes were wide with fear as the masked man came down on them, slashing two of their throats and catching the third with his catgut noose. When the third man stumbled and lost his balance, all it took was one final jerk of the catgut to break his neck.
As Hesham knelt to collect his punjab lasso from the dead man, a thunder of heavy footfalls caught all of their attention from the other end of the corridor.
One glance up told all Hesham needed to know. "Quickly," he hissed as he took off in the direction that the frightened guards had gone while attempting to escape. Saeed took Fautimeh's arm roughly in his hand and practically dragged her along, even though she was already moving quite quickly on her own.
As they entered the garden, they found that Hesham's plan had worked. It was nearly deserted, save for a few slaves still working near the south tower.
Hesham found the hidden trapdoor and pulled it open, ushering Saeed and the girl down into the darkness before jumping down himself and drawing the door closed over them, leaving them in the pitch black darkness of the underground maze.
Saeed blinked a few times, trying to will his eyesight to adjust to the darkness, but it was of no use. He couldn't even see his own hand two inches in front of his face. When Hesham placed his hand on the man's shoulder, he jumped and gave a startled cry.
"Keep the child close," Hesham said. "If either of you manages to get lost, you will likely die down here trying to find your way out."
"How will we find our way out in the first place? We have no lantern and it is black as pitch!" Hesham held the length of catgut out to the Persian and waited as he fumbled to grab it.
"Lighting a lantern would only serve to draw them right to us when they come after us," he said quite matter-of-factly. "Follow me."
Saeed blinked at the other man. Well, he thought he blinked at the other man. He couldn't be entirely sure in the dark, even if it was the direction from which the catgut had been thrust at him.
"The blind leading the blind," he muttered. Hesham looked at him, incredulous.
"Hardly," he said, "I built most of this in the dark. I know this maze as well as I know the layout of the palace." Before he could say more, the thunder of approaching footsteps from above interrupted him. "Unless you'd rather your child given to a man who would have a child bride after you've had your throat cut, I suggest we move along. Unless, of course, you'd like to insult me again?" Saeed picked Fautimeh up and tightened his grip on the catgut.
Hesham gave him a few seconds to make sure he was ready before he started down the long outer corridor of the maze. After two left turns and a right, he paused to allow the other two to catch up.
"Why a maze of mirrors?" Saeed asked as they rounded another corner. As they did, a dim light reached them from behind. They all blinked hard, trying to adjust to the sudden light. Dim as it was, it allowed Saeed to see far enough ahead of himself to see Hesham's back.
"We must hurry," the younger man replied as he continued on. "They won't find us, but let's not try our luck." They quickened their pace, and soon they found themselves in complete darkness once more. It was a long walk, and Saeed could see how forcing someone to try to find their way out of such a treacherous maze would prove to be an effective torture method.
"Hesham," he said as they slowed so he could put Fautimeh down. The younger man stiffened at the sound of his new name. It was still so strange to have a name. He'd been 'boy' for as long as he could remember. That is, when he wasn't called something worse or simply beckoned with no descriptor beyond an angrily pointed finger.
"What?" he asked after a long moment.
"You never answered my question," Saeed said.
"Which was?" Hesham tried to play it off as bored aloofness. It wasn't working.
"Why mirrors?" Saeed asked again. "If it's meant to be dark down here—"
"So I would have a constant reminder while building this place of why I hold the jobs that I do," he replied.
"I don't—"
"Daroga, you've seen me without my face covered," Hesham snapped. "I am a freak."
"That is not true. You were born different, sure, but that doesn't—"
Hesham stopped then, but Saeed didn't realize until he'd almost knocked him over.
"If you spend enough time looking at yourself in the mirror, you grow accustomed to the image," the younger man sniffed. "I thought I could stop wanting better for myself if I just managed to burn the image of myself into my memory. I thought maybe… Maybe I'd learn my place."
He turned to face Saeed, and he immediately regretted even acknowledging his question. The look on his face was one of greater pity than he'd seen from anyone since the freak show, and he hated it. He almost wanted to strangle this man who was the closest thing he'd ever had to a proper friend.
"Come," he said finally, turning away once more. "We're almost to the end."
"Hesham—"
"No more words," Hesham's words bore a harshness that Saeed had only heard once before. "You'll only draw them to us."
They continued on in silence until they reached the door at the north tower. Hesham exited first, and for a wild moment he considered leaving them down there. The moment passed, however, and he helped them up and out. From there it was only a short distance to the gate, and with the majority of the Shah's men down in the maze searching for them, they were able to walk out without any issue.
It would be a long journey out of Persia, and none of them knew quite where they would go, but somehow it seemed that they all agreed to take that journey together.