WINNER OF READERS CHOICE AWARDS 2020 (Historical Fiction)
Stone hearts.
Silver to gold.
And the fierce need to prove oneself.
Highest ranks: #1 in Arabia || #3 in History || #51 in Assassin || #90 in Spiritual
A/N: I was quite disappointed with the response to the last chapter. Not for my work personally but for the character of Ishtar. Might I say that as much as anyone likes to deny it, looks usually draw young naive people like Ishtar in rather than personality- because chances are they won't have talked to him enough to figure that out initially. For Amaan too, he's still a human and will appreciate a beauty when he sees one. There was no implication of his actually falling in love. Further more, being the princess of her house, being pampered and taken care off and sheltered from the realities of the world, Ishtar is not in the same position as Falaq to be able to think of things the way Falaq does. She had a low self esteem because it has never been put in question before. Try to actually think for a few seconds about the actual character and what they're going through. I have not entertained negativity in my previous book and will not do so here either. If you have constructive criticism for my writing or something then by all means, I am happy to hear it and appreciate it. That was all, hope you enjoy this chapter as we catch up with Falaq. Also please note Hudayfa has not yet seen Falaq's face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She's mystery I am a prisoner to solve. I cannot rest until I have figured out the complex question that is my betrothed, and yet all I wish for is this question never to have been asked in the first place. How dare it disturb the slumber of my mind. How dare it echo across the caverns of my empty heart. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
T H E P R O C E S S I O N, صفر T H E F O R T
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The Fort was alive with the sound of raucous laughter. Perhaps an outsider might have thought a large celebration was taking place. Perhaps he would have smiled and treaded closer, wanting to be a part of the festivities. But then, the screams of women and the cries of men would reach his ears. He would immediately lurch away, sick in his stomach. And he would ride away. He would ride away fast.
The commotion in the Fort was grand. Servants ran around with panicky looks, serving for their lives to their new masters.
The Hashshashin were here.
They continued to pour through the huge fort, taking whatever and whoever they wanted. The chambers constructed for the Persian kings were now taken up but the princes and elite army men of the Tridarian kingdom, each surrounded by frightened women. Servants ran in and out of these chambers with platters of gold serving fruits and meat of the finest quality.
Zain, Ali, Ehsan and Ibrahim were gathered on a platform of one of the many terraces of the fort. They had been amongst the first to ride through the broken city gates and barge into the guarded fort. It's defenders stood no chance as wave upon wave of Hashshashin descended upon them, ruthlessly murdering every last man. It had been hours since then, and the sun had set onto a bloody horizon. Women were being brought in to satisfy the heartless monsters, whilst others were still busy plundering goods or heartily helping themselves to good food.
