The Wrath and the Dawn(114)

“My God,” Rahim said. “How did you know about this?”

“Khalid told me.” She tried to dismiss the strange look he gave her. “It’s dark, so tread with care.” Concealing her trepidation, she moved down the stairs leading to the passageway.

The trio hugged the walls of earth and stone as they scurried like vermin under the ground. At the end of the tunnel was a small ladder leading up to a wooden trapdoor. Shahrzad tried to open it, but it refused to budge. Rahim pressed both palms to the rough-hewn surface, and the door eventually swung aside with a whining creak.

They emerged in a shadowed corner of the palace stables.

And a boom of thunder rattled through the earth at their feet. The horses whinnied and thrashed about in their stalls.

“Pick one,” Shahrzad stated.

Rahim whistled. “Really? Because I’m told the madman has a black al-Khamsa from the first of the five. That horse is a prize in and of itself.”

Shahrzad whirled on him. “Not Ardeshir. You can take any horse from this stable, but not that one.”

“Whyever not?”

“Because you are not taking his horse!” Her composure was hanging by a thread.

Rahim put up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “What’s wrong with you, Shazi?” Concern marred his features.

“He’s not even here.” Tariq spoke quietly from the shadows. “The horse is not here. Nor is its master.”

“What?” Rahim turned to Tariq.

“Where is he, Shahrzad?” Tariq asked, striding toward her.

“On his way home, Tariq Imran al-Ziyad,” a male voice intoned from behind them.

Jalal.

When the captain of the guard emerged from the darkness, he aimed a malicious grin at Tariq.

“I would count yourself lucky,” Jalal continued. “Because if Khalid found you with Shahrzad, death would be the least of your worries.”

? ? ?


Tariq reached for his bow, intent on his next course of action.

And Shahrzad launched herself in his path, clutching both his wrists.

“No!” Her face was awash in terror.

Tariq’s pain compounded further. Now she was even defending the boy-king’s family. Defending them against him.

Captain al-Khoury’s scimitar was unsheathed at his side. He was alone. It would take a single arrow to rid them of his nuisance.

When the boy-king’s arrogant cousin strode closer, Shahrzad turned to face him, still holding one of Tariq’s wrists in a death grip.

“Jalal,” she said, “I can explain.”

“There’s no need.”

“I’m not—”

“I told you; there’s no need.” He spoke simply. “I trust you.”

Her grip on Tariq’s wrist tightened impossibly further.

“It’s Nasir al-Ziyad’s son I don’t trust.” Captain al-Khoury raised his weapon, its edge gleaming white.

“You can trust him.”

“No,” Tariq interrupted, “he can’t.”

Shahrzad glanced over her shoulder, her eyes laced with admonition.

“What are you doing here, Tariq Imran al-Ziyad?” Captain al-Khoury took a step forward, his sword at the ready.

“That should be obvious. I’m here for Shahrzad.”

Captain al-Khoury snorted. “Are you? And did you think you could just leave the city with the Calipha of Khorasan? With my cousin’s wife?”

“Shahrzad is not staying here. I am not leaving the girl I love in the arms of a monster.”

“That’s funny. One would think the girl had a choice in the matter.”

“You must be joking,” Rahim said in a gravelly tone. “Do you honestly think she would choose a madman over Tariq?”

“Enough, Rahim,” Tariq cautioned.

“Ask her,” Captain al-Khoury said softly. “Ask her if she truly plans to leave Rey with you. Because I know something you are either too stupid or too blind to see.”

“And what is that?” Rahim demanded.

“Murderer, monster, madman . . . Khalid may very well be all of those things. But he’s also loved. By me and by my father. But, most of all, by Shazi. With her, he is as fiercely loved as he loves.”

Shahrzad’s body trembled in front of Tariq. Her hold on his wrist was flagging.

“Is he telling the truth?” Rahim asked, bristling at the captain of the guard’s familiarity.