The Master and The Maiden

Prologue

*

A spiny-tailed lizard scurried away from the boot which had almost crushed it, finding shelter beneath a dried out cactus. It looked up slowly, glaring at the man who'd almost crushed it to death. The man didn't take notice of the tiny creature. His eyes were fixed up ahead, just a few feet away from the sand dune on which he and his comrades were perched.

"Sahib, we should strike now while they least suspect it," his second in command whispered, leaning ever so slightly towards him.

"No, Umar," he snapped, clenching his teeth as his targets approached. The sun was just setting behind them, a gentle wind beginning to sweep through the Al-Sabʿatayn Dunes. Tiny grains of sand began to sweep across them, partially blinding them. But Faisal was determined. He couldn't let him escape just like that. He'd hunted this man for over ten thousand miles on foot, camel, horse, boat and even cow. No. Fareed must not escape today.

"Wait for my signal," Faisal whispered, climbing over the dune swiftly.

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the dunes, Master Fareed raised his arm, a signal that the procession should halt. At once, the numerous carriages rolled to a grounding stop.

"We shall camp here for the night," he said, reining his horse in. He dismounted at once, his feet sinking into the sand.

"Forgive me, Sahib," Lukman said, dismounting his steed as well, "but these dunes are known to almost all the bandits in Arabia. It is not safe for us to be here."

Master Fareed turned slowly, his gaze fixed on his second in command. Or rather, his highest ranking slave. To him, no one was next to him in equal. Everyone was his subordinate.

Lukman visibly shrank away, staring down at his feet.

"Set up my tent over there," Master Fareed said, securing his horse by the reins. Grabbing a peg from the stack in the carriage behind him, he swiftly hammered it into the ground, securing the reins around it. About a dozen other slaves followed suit, tying the camels in groups. They then proceeded to set up their tents around the caravans.

Master Fareed swooped into his freshly set up tent the minute Lukman was done, a sign that he was not to be disturbed.

"My legs are so sore," one slave said, falling to the ground. "I've been walking all day without pause."

"And you've got several more miles ahead, so you'd better get used to the pain," another slave replied, unloading the mats from the smallest caravan. "Come on. Let's pray."

Groaning, the first slave rose to his feet and joined the other slaves around the barrel of water.

Faisal watched them with keen eyes, his sabre glistening ominously. He paused, making sure his slow movement didn't upset the sand. It was an art he'd mastered. By slowly stepping left and right in a calculated manner, he could reduce the amount of sand that glided down.

"Will the master not join us in prayer?" the first slave asked as he concluded his ablution.

"Of course he will. He always leads us in prayer," the second slave replied, bending down to straighten his garment. He paused as he noticed the slow movement of sand downhill out of the corner of his eye. Something wasn't right. Even with the noise of the other slaves, the night was too quiet.

Arabian nights were never quiet for no reason.

"Come with me," he told the first slave, pulling him aside just as Faisal reached the master's tent. Wrapping his fingers around the hilt of his sword, he muttered a silent prayer before he stepped into the tent.

Master Fareed was sitting on a low stool, his back turned to the entrance with a cup of Jasmine tea in his hands. Faisal looked to the corner of the tent, where the master's sword was placed safely. A small kettle was boiling beside it, the steam rising up in slow, swirling motions. Faisal visibly relaxed, his eyes trained on the master. He wondered briefly how he managed to make tea so quickly.

"We meet again, old friend," he said quietly. The Master didn't move, his shoulders rising and falling slowly.

"It appears so," Master Fareed replied, taking another sip from the cup.

"You have something which belongs to me," Faisal said, a single bead of sweat sliding down his back. The Master's action - or inaction rather - was unnerving.

"Careful, old friend," the Master said in a clipped tone. "No one dares to call me a thief."

"Enough with the games, Fareed," he snapped, drawing his sabre. "Give me the Jewels and I'll spare your life."

"You think you are the first to ask?" Master Fareed said quietly, an amused expression on his face. "Many have asked before you. And yet each and every one of them left empty handed. Why, most of them didn't even leave at all."

"Was that a threat, Fareed?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake. He clutched his sabre tighter, raising it at the back of the Master.

"Of course it was," the Master chuckled in reply. "It is very much a threat."

"Then I shall kill you before you kill me." He took a step forward.

"Kill me, and you'll never get the Jewels." the Master said coolly.

Faisal paused, biting his teeth in contemplation. Master Fareed was right. There was no way he'd get the Jewels if he killed him. Heck, he'd even be lucky to escape with his life.

"I need them, Fareed. You have to understand," he said, his voice quivering. "Please, you have to understand. They'll kill me if I don't bring them back. You know what they're like, Fareed. Think about what they've done to both of us already. I'll be dead if I don't return with them."

"Actually, you'll die either way," the Master said, rising from his seat. Faisal took a step back, planting his feet firmer into the ground. Master Fareed examined him, his eyebrows furrowed in contempt.

"They shall be your undoing, Faisal," he whispered.

"That makes two of us."

Chuckling, Master Fareed placed the empty cup on the stool. Straightening once again, he raised his hands slowly in the air in mock surrender. "They're in the second caravan," he said. Faisal regarded him, his eyes shifting swiftly to the sword placed just inches from the Master's reach.

"I'm taking this," he said, reaching for the sword with his sabre still pointed at master Fareed's chest. The Master didn't say anything, regarding the former with silent contempt as he took a step back.

"Goodbye, old friend," Faisal said.

"Indeed it is," master Fareed replied, watching as he stepped out of the tent.

Right into Lukman's waiting dagger.

Faisal cried out, raising his sabre a second too late, but Lukman forced it out of his hands just as master Fareed stepped out of his tent.

"You!" Faisal said, turning towards the master, who quietly picked up his fallen sword.

"His men?" he asked.

"All dead," Lukman said, driving the dagger into his chest once again. Faisal collapsed to his feet, feeling the sting of the metal wedged in his chest. His wild eyes turned towards the Master, shock and disbelief etched across every inch of his face. The Master didn't bat an eyelash.

Slowly, Faisal turned his attention to the caravans just a few feet away. He began to crawl slowly towards them, silently muttering a prayer. He had to reach them. Everything he'd ever lived for was in that caravan. He had to get to them. To see them but once.

“I told you they shall be your undoing,” Master Fareed said behind him. “You think I didn’t notice you lurking? You think I’m blind enough to not realize you’ve been following me this entire time?”

Faisal tried to speak, but blood curdled to his mouth, drowning his words.

"Goodbye, old friend," Master Fareed whispered, swiftly pulling out his sword from the sheath. A second later, the blade glistened with the blood of Faisal. Fareed stared down at the decapitated head, his eyes hooded in the moonlight.

"Get rid of the body," he said, withdrawing into his tent.

*