"Master we are afraid to report that some Muslims survived the bombings of their countries and have managed to sneak into Sweden without anybody knowing their existence."
"How the hell did this happen," Lord Liquistor raged.
"They were presumed dead my Lord. It's easy to get into somewhere if people think your dead."
"Master!" A slave came running into the tent that had been set up for the Lords of the Devil's Thorn. "Our scouts have reported they know where the enemy is located!"
"Where?"
"About two days journey northeast of us. They saw some movement up on the mountains though we could not see anything else. And one of the scouts thought she heard the lulling of a cow."
"Pack up the horses and everything else. We're leaving to get rid of this nuisance for good."
The slaves bowed and backed out of the tent. They quickly ran and told the other Lords and slaves to prepare for battle. They put armor on the horses and saddled them for their Lords. The slaves were the ones who had to walk and carry all the weapons and ammunition.
They had been held up due to the snow. After the Muslims and slaves had escaped the onslaught in Ostersund snow had begun falling heavily. They hadn't even found the truck until last week and then their masters had pushed them onward through the blizzard. Half their force had fallen to the cold. In a rage the Lords of the Devil's Thorn had sent three members of a scouting party to search for the Muslims. They were told not to come back at all if they didn't find anything.
For two days they pushed through the knee high snow drifts. Even the biting cold swept through their clothes and chilled their bodies. Nobody was spared from the onslaught of Mother Nature, not even the horses. Death was coming.
At last they reached the mountains where the Muslim safe haven was. Gazing up at the steep incline the Lords dismounted and tied their horses to some trees in a small valley. They unsaddled the horses and unpacked their belongings. Exhausted from the journey they were ordered to prepare for tomorrow for that would be the day they would attack.
The next afternoon they slaves collected as many guns as they could carry and began the dangerous climb up the side of the mountain. Above them a hawk screeched as it dove down onto a mouse that was hunched on a cliff. The air was still and the only sounds were the labored breathing of the slaves as they climbed ever upward.
On a rocky outcropping just out of sight lay a man with a rifle. He had heard the sound of horses in the night and decided to remain at his post instead of retiring to his home in the village. This was Jamal, one of the Muslims who had escaped Camp 2345 Alpha several months earlier. With him was Blaze. As they listened to the sounds of labored breathing Blaze motioned to Jamal and pointed over the crest of the rock overhang. They crept forward and staying in the shadows looked down. They saw robes of the kind the slaves of the Devil's Thorn wore.
"Is it them," Jamal asked.
"Yes. They've found us."
Blaze and Jamal crept back to their spot. Quickly they left their post and ran through the underground tunnels they had so painstakingly dug into the trenches of the mountainside and hurried back to the village. As they burst out of the exit they found guns in their faces.
"It's us," Jamal shouted.
"What's going on," Ahmed asked.
"It's the Devil's Thorn. They're here."
"Then that means..."
"Yes. It's time for war."
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Locked In
Mystery / Thriller"It is not life that binds us to Allah. It is not death that takes us but Allah. To all of our sufferings and joys comes hope from Allah. But to be able to hear the word of Allah is something many will never hear because they are too blinded by th...
