Winner of the 'Readers Choice Award' in Historical Fiction.
Winner of the 'Readers Choice Award' in Spiritual Category.
Winner of Best Muslim Readers' Choice Awards: Prince of Knights
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Arabs are well known for their culture, Po...
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~*When the world pushes you to your knees, you're in the perfect position to pray. Rumi~*
Blood was everywhere.
The rainwater mingled with blood; had changed the sand grains dark with pools of crimson water on every few steps that a man was to take. The reflection of the dunes on the crimson water made it look like as if it rained blood.
The wind peered from behind the silken threads of a spiderweb on one of the walls of the mud houses. It stared flabbergasted at the droplets of blood that turned the spider's house scarlet. Perhaps it did rain blood.
Suddenly, the wind turned to Faris when it heard his anguished voice.
"Adel!" Faris roared as his friend slowly dropped to his bloody knees with a sword piercing his heart and blood oozing from his open chest. Faris felt shivers run down his body when the assassin who stood behind Adel, wrenched the blade out then booted the body aside. The knight made to run towards Adel. However, the men surrounding him charged at him like vicious vipers, preventing him.
Just when Faris had charged forward to kill Marwan, the half breed dog ordered his men to advance, and in doing so prevented Faris to reach and annihilate him. And now, when his knights struggled against the force of Marwan's men, Faris felt desirous he felt weak. Marwan's men were too powerful. Even despite the sudden attack, they had exhausted Faris's knights, and many were wounded severely.
The rain had ceased, and now the sky was blanketed with an ominous cloud that permitted lighting to strike every few seconds. If the wind did not witness the deadly battle, it would have halted and gaped at the cloud ornamenting the sky of the daybreak. Now that the rain had ceased, Faris felt a thick layer of sweat bead on his neck, then trickle down his back within his kandoora.
Frustrated, and desperate Faris spun to his right to the man who prevented him from going towards Adel. Knight of knights struck his mighty sword in the man's jaw, and then pulled the blade out in such a manner that it slit the man's face in half.
A sinister pleasure blossomed in his heart when the man's blood splattered all over his face, coating his forehead and beard. Anger coiled sweltering and unstoppable in his gut, like a blazing hellfire that desired to burn from inside out. He needed to reach Adel and see if he was still alive. What would he narrate to his mother? How will he face Umm Adel?
Just as his opponent dropped in the puddle of his blood and raindrops, Faris knelt snatched the man's dagger and held it with his left hand. By Allah, he was a sight of a monster. The knight was soaking in rain, blood, and dirt. His wet hair swayed every time he struck a man with his sword or dodged a blade that yearned to rip him in half.
