In the name of our love

13: Punjab Battle

      Raoul paced across the dining room angrily.

      "He took the note and left us! How do we know that he's really going after our daughter?" Raoul ranted, "he's a madman! He is probably taking her away with him as we speak. I thought he swore to take a servant with him?"

      "Stop worrying, Raoul." Christine soothed, taking a miniature bite of fried egg, "He's helped us this far, hasn't he?"

      "We don't understand his gibberish! He could have led us on a wild goose chase!" the Count paced faster as his voice increased in volume.

      "Just be patient. There's a method to his madness, I'm sure."

      "Was it a method when he kidnapped you? Was it a method when he burned down the Opera last year?" he challenged his wife.

      "The fire was an accident. They said so in the paper." Christine tried to defend her earthly angel of music.

      "And I suppose that everything in the paper is truth. I suppose it was truthful when they said that we had slept together all those years ago?"

      "But we did, Raoul." She didn't know where he was going with his angry speech.

     "Not then. Not while you remained in the Opera with him." his voice went deep and low on the last word.

      Christine was silent. It was true that she didn't know if Erik had burned down the Opera house. IT was true that he didn't always tell the truth. But she still trusted him.

      She trusted him because he was the only thing that was keeping her together. He was the one keeping her sane. He was her hope. He was her only hope.

***

      Erik rode for a day and a half. Then his tiredness forced him to stop. He didn't stop just anywhere, though. He stopped in the place that he had stopped with Aref, all those days ago. The place where he had tried to teach the Persian man how to wield the Punjab lasso.

      Erik was exhausted, having eaten nothing, slept little and having little time to himself. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. Rain was pounding the ground, so he crept towards the cave, expecting to see no one. Erik was wrong.

      On the ground Aref lay sleeping calmly. It didn't take Erik long to find the Persian's captive. Melody sat against the wall, her hands and feet bound tightly with rope. Her mouth opened to speak, but Erik put a finger to his lips to silence her. He began to step over Aref, but barely got his left foot over when the Persian grabbed his right ankle. Erik looked down to see Aref' s eyes wide open and glaring.

      "A guam dagura ra nedared." Aref growled. (Do not take another step.)

      "Ajazh bedhad men berwem." Erik said calmly. (Let me go.)

      "Nah." Aref said with a smile as he sat up, "Keh der an sergurem kenendh aset keh der an?" (No. Where is the fun in that?)

      "Ajazh. Bedhad. Men. Berwem." Erik enunciated each word in frustration. (Let me go.)

      Aref only ignored the masked man. The Persian stood and grabbed for something in the back corner of the cave. Only when he came into the light did Erik see what Aref held. A punjab lasso.

      Erik laughed, "Shema waq'ea feker ma kenem keh shema ma tewanad bh men keh sedmh dadh? Shema bh sekheta ma tewaned gureften ak kherguwesh!" he scoffed. (You really think that you can hurt me with that? You could barely catch a rabbit!)