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: BANG!! Another one! Pleeeeaaaseee share this story! I want more readers if it is worthy.
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(Old one sorry, will edit the name soon).
THREE SUNS PAST
It had been three days since Falaq had began her travels with the Hashshashin.
Three days since she had left Ustad behind.
Three days since she'd last talked to her brothers.
Three days since she'd met her fiancé for the first time.
The Hashshashin Army moved relentlessly. The entire night they marched, on ward and on ward, and Falaq's ward were finally becoming accustomed to the sound of thousands of feet. It was bleak time, sitting in her palanquin with nothing to do, nothing to see. But it did give her a lot of time to think.
And Falaq had decided: Hudayfa was going to marry her over her dead body! She would not allow it, a union to a monster! She would be doing him a favour by weaselling out of the agreement she'd had no say in. When she met her father she'd have a word or two.
She'd also decided she was not going to simply sit here looking like a bride and had decided to remove her jewellery and let her hair loose. No one had come to visit her in days any way, and she mostly just made it between palanquin and tent. She had also been given maids to take care of her whenever they made a stop, probably woman slaves procured during the Army's raids and forced to do so considering their angry eyes and rigid movements.
She thought often of Ishtar too. She hoped her friend had gotten closer to Amaan. It made her smile thinking about Ishtar and Amaan. Her friend was no doubt firing up her charms to full potential while Amaan would be politely turning her away, too absorbed his past to understand the most beautiful girl in Taghrid had fallen for him. She hoped they were making it safely to Damascus.
On the fourth day they made camp during the day after having marched the entire night. The bustle of men could be heard as they removed armour and ground poles and arranged their tarps. Falaq hastily covered her head and her face just in time for one of her palanquin bearers to gruffly request her out.
She stepped out stiffly. Sitting down in one position for hours was too tiring. She wished she'd been riding Batal instead, but alas it was these stupid backward customs that did not allow her to.
Outside the sun was beating down on them at its utmost peak. The world looked so bright that she had to squint. The tent seemed to be a bit further away this time and Falaq revelled in the opportunity to look around more.
She could feel all eyes on her as she moved, carrying her skirts just inches off the ground. The soldiers had stopped what they were doing to ogle at what she supposed was a rarity at war - a respectable female. She did not meet any of their eyes but held her head high and gazed ahead serenely even as anger at their blatant disrespect kindled inside. Had they not heard of lowering their gaze? They did not know how to respect a woman.
