MY KILLER

CHAPTER 13

The voice I heard was so soothing. That was exactly what I needed, to calm my nerves and at least, return my mind to the time before the torture.
Whoever was singing, was singing one of the traditional Arabian song, sung by one of the greatest female musicians Arabia had ever had. Funny how her name too was Samira.
I didn't want to ever open my eyes.
The music was a distraction from the current pains I was going through.
Excruciating!
Excruciating!
Excruciating!
That was the only way I best knew how to describe it.

Finally, with so much difficulty, I opened my eyes.
It was blurry. I could only see the light coming from the chandelier at the center of the room and somebody, a woman, cooking something over a small laboratory tripod stand.
I tried to get up and fell back. My moan was even painful for me.

"Awake? So quickly?"

"Lady Ameena?" My voice croaked. It was definitely her voice. There was no denying that fact.

She took up the small pot she was cooking with, transferred the liquid contents into a small soup bowl and came up to the bed I was lying on.

"Sit quietly still. You don't want your wounds getting worse now, do you?"

I was still looking at her in awe as she handed me the bowl with a spoon.

"Has he finally decided to kill me? I refuse to die by poisoning." I was almost whispering.
I had lost my voice.

"That's what's surprising me the most. He caused you pain and now, he wants to relieve you of it. That is not the Sultan I know."

"So you're telling me that this is not poison."

"It's Medicine. Some medicinal herbs I had mashed up together, extracted the juice and cooked with some other ingredients. You won't understand. All you have to know is that it'll help you heal faster."

I took the bowl from her. "Why are you helping me?" I asked.

"I'm not. Left to me, I'd have you killed for soiling my reputation and that of Lord Fawad."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"You must not have been listening when I said that it was the Sultan who commanded me to."
I had almost put the spoon to my mouth when she said that.

"The Sultan? Why would he do that?"

"Same question I should ask you. For all I remember, traitors always get their dues, death. But not only did you escape death, he is now making sure that you are far from it. Why is that?"

"I'm not the Sultan, you should ask him yourself."

"Still for some reason, I try to see it from his own perspective. He was brought up in a totally dictatorship environment where he has always been in command. Your disrespect for rules and your manner and tone of speech has probably caught his attention. But, it will not last long. Most rulers usually develop some kind of attachment to something they are unfamiliar with, but at the end of the day, they get tired and that attachment fades away. That thing is then tossed aside, and most times, gotten rid of. I do not wish for you to be on the receiving end."

"You should not care whether that happens to me or not. Not after you sent that girl to her death."

"She," she increased her tone of voice. "Violated the law. I was duty bound to give that order."

"Then go on with your duty, My Lady, and leave me out if it."
She smiled at me and stood from the bed she was seated in all along, the one I was currently on.

"How old are you?" She asks.

"Old enough." She paused for a while before returning to the tripod.