Veer ~ Rise Of The Sisodia's [#YourStoryIndia]

Chapter 6

Ghurid Army Camp, Haridwar

The whip slashed through the air, lashing into Haider's back, yanking skin, and drawing blood. He bit down hard on his lip to avoid crying out but could not prevent a muffled groan from emerging. His knees sagged, and he would have fallen if his hands had not been tied by a rope hanging from a tree's branch.

Haider had been brought back to the temporary camp commandeered by Orhan. The granary of the village was being used as the troop's barracks. And the village headman's house next door was being used by Orhan as his personal quarters. The village was empty except for Orhan and the king's soldiers. All the villagers had escaped a few hours ago. Haider was tortured in the open square in front of the temporary barracks.

'Tsk, tsk,' said Orhan mockingly. Carrying a goblet of wine, the Turkic officer walked around Haider and looked at his back. It was a bloodied mess, with several gaping wounds where the whip had torn the skin.

"Oh dear, that looks dreadful," Orhan exclaimed with feigned concern. Taking a sip of wine, he grinned sardonically as he closely examined Haider's injured back. Suddenly, he expelled the wine forcefully, directing it onto Haider's lacerated skin.

Caught off guard, Haider jerked forward in agony, the alcohol scorching his wounded back. "Ya Allah!" he cried out.

Orhan froze momentarily, stunned by the reaction. Swiftly, he circled around Haider, seized his hair, and forcefully lifted his head to meet his captive's gaze. "You're a Muslim?!" he exclaimed.

Haider remained silent, glaring at Orhan with every fibre of his being, exuding fiery anger.

"Attempting to protect a temple? What kind of Muslim are you?!" Orhan questioned, his voice dripping with contempt.

Haider stared back at him, oozing undisguised disdain. "A better one... than you..."

"How dare you oppose me?!" thundered Orhan. "You're a Muslim!"

"I am... an Indian first..." Haider retorted.

Orhan's hand landed with a resounding slap across Haider's face. "You choose to fight for infidel Hindus instead of a fellow Muslim like me?!"

"I fight... alongside my Indian brothers... against a tyrant of Turkic origin..." Haider's voice resonated with conviction.

Orhan struck Haider again, causing his nose to crack under the force. And he continued to pummel him relentlessly, blow after blow until exhaustion overcame him.

Still consumed by rage, Orhan unleashed a final series of strikes upon Haider's battered form. Only when Haider slumped unconscious against the rope did Orhan cease his assault.

Turning to his soldiers, Orhan commanded, "Let this wretch hang here throughout the night. Tomorrow, I shall decide the manner of his execution.

***

The guard stretched his tired limbs and let out a weary yawn. He glanced longingly at his sleeping comrades, who had abandoned their posts and were comfortably curled up on the ground, snoring away in blissful slumber. Being the battalion's youngest member, he had been assigned the task of staying awake all night and keeping a watchful eye on the prisoner.

Haider still hung there, motionless.

Is he dead?

The soldier shook his head and shrugged, finding the answer in his mind. Why should I care?

His gaze wandered towards the temporary barracks, a short distance away, where most of his fellow soldiers slept.

I could be sleeping right now.