Salam alikum guys! Yes, I am back! Welcome to a new journey, Badr's journey. I am so excited to write this book since I never thought I would ever write a book 2 for Prince of Knights. 

I hope you guys like and enjoy it just as you guys liked and enjoyed Prince of Knights. 

*~His orbs were so dark; she was sure he looted the darkness from the night sky~* Prince of Knights. 

One year and four months later

Daylight uncovered the veil of the world, and with it, birds chirped, taking the first flight of the day. The winter wind swirled, carrying with it the fragrance of the earth, silky after washing of the rain, and a freshened and steady spirit of merriment filled the trees. It brought forth scattered clouds to adorn the majestic sky, which shimmered with scattered stars like jewels on a crown.

The wind garbed itself in a wintery cloak as it opened its arms for the Rashideen tribe. It had long gone bid its farewell from the Borkan tribe and now sought refuge in the Rashideen tribe. Dry leaves and bushes rose from the desert as the wind yawned and blinked at something approaching from the distance. Dancing, the wind swirled, causing the fading crescent, the drowsy wolves to gaze at it expectantly.

What had gotten the wind so enlivened? Was it the prince it missed? Or the girl with big brown eyes? 

The wind rushed forward gently to not startle its visitors. Its wings unfurled and enveloped around the caravan of five horses and seven camels. A merchant and his Caravan had been traveling from Sham for over two months. The sight of his beloved tribe; brought forth tranquility to his heart. His right hand tightened around the rein of his horse; at last, he was back, back to the sand of his tribe, back to his mother.

As the caravan got closer to the enormous tribe situated between two mountains that spread on both sides of it, Gaith took note of the changes. Even from such a distance, he could see the changes as they were exceptional. When Gaith had departed his tribe five years ago, all that was there were tents, palm trees, and wells. Now, however, something had changed.

Gaith narrowed his eyes at the houses that resembled the mud houses of Sham. The entire tribe was enclosed; by countless palm trees. From the circle of trees, Gaith could see the houses dotting around tents.

His grin widened. The Rashideen tribe was prospering. Was his father also residing in one of these houses? Was Badr also?

At these thoughts, a smile graced his handsome face. Gaith looked over his shoulder at the caravan that followed his lead. He took note of how every man either sat straight on their horse or craned their necks to get a better view of the Rashideen tribe. Smiling, Gaith faced his tribe and wrapped his headdress around his face against the icy wind that twirled in these lands.

The roguish members of the wind peeked inside the loaded wooden crates and gaped at the goods the merchant had bought from Sham. Curious, it caressed the handsome merchant's cheeks, causing the man to shiver and tighten his thobe around him.

The caravan halted at the borders of the tribe. The men stationed at the entrance of the tribe perked up at the caravan's arrival. One of them came forward with a sword in hand.

"What brings you here?" Demanded the guard.

"Back home." Gaith removed his headdress from his face.

"Gaith?" The guard frowned. "Is that you?"

Gaith laughed. "Yes, Ali. It is I. I have returned home. Do I have permission to enter my tribe?"

"Yes. Yes, you do." Ali sheathed his sword and took a step back, smiling.

As Gaith's horse cantered through the mudhouses and tents, he witnessed that the tribe was humming with energy. Men and women walked around seeing to their work. Gaith's eyebrows rose from a particular sight in front of him, and here the wind laughed. A spectacular narrow canal slithered around the tents and houses. The water glistened in the dim sunlight that peaked from the palm trees making the tribe appear awe-inspiring.

How on earth did a canal surface in the tribe?

Gaith's eyes took in the people who wandered out of their house with clay pots in hand. He observed, engrossed as they knelt to fill their pot with water from the narrow canal. Still amazed, his gaze darted to the wooden windows that were open to let the early morning breeze despite the chillness. On his left were the farms, stables, and herds. The shepherds were already attending to their livestock.

Gaith veered his horse towards the training ground, and he knew that the person he was searching for would be present there at this time. "Hussain, go to my father's residence and unload the caravan." He spoke to one of the men in the caravan. Hussain nodded and made his way to Gaith's house. Gaith knew that Hussain was aware of where his father's tent was; and if there was a house built in its place. He shall find it once there.

The merchant made his way to the training ground next to the stable and saw that; indeed, three men sat by an open tent drinking coffee and ate freshly baked bread. Gaith unmounted his brown horse, bind the rein around the trunk of a palm tree, and made his way to the men in the open tent.

A crackling sound caught Gaith's attention. He moved his head right to see that some logs were burning next to the open tent to provide the men warmth against the cold. Ah! the beauty of residing in a tent. He had missed it greatly.

Without alerting the knights, Gaith called, "The aroma of that gahwa is enthralling."

The men in the tent lifted their heads to the familiar voice. Jabbir, one of his friends, was the first to stand and strode towards Gaith. Jabbir embraced his brother, thumping his back, almost crushing his bones. Laughing, the man pulled away and slung an arm on Gaith's shoulder. "Ya Marhaba, what a surprise."

"How are you?" Laughing, Gaith questioned.

Jabbir removed his hand and took a step back. "Alhamdulillah. It is you who should be telling us about your wellbeing."

Khalfan, one of Gaith's close friends' shook his hand with a smile on his face. "It is indeed good to have you back, brother." He then moved away for the last person in the tent to greet Gaith.

Badr. Leader of the Rashideen knights. Gaith's dearest friend was the last to greet him. At the sight of sagr al fursan, the wind stood straighter. It drank the smile on his face and knew that this man was the criminal who robbed the crescent's beauty and wore its brilliance in his astute eyes.

Badr was wearing a white kandoora with a brown thobe and a white headdress. His beard was thicker than earlier, making him look even more prepossessing. His dark eyes crinkled on the corners when they landed on his friend.

Gaith took in Badr's appearance; the man had changed; he seemed older, more sagacious. The once short hair now reached his earlobes, the serene eyes held a roughness to them; perhaps the events of the past five years had caused that.

Badr mirrored Jabbir's action and embraced his friend. "Indeed, it is a pleasure to have you back, my friend. However, you must see your mother first," he whispered for Gaith to hear.

Gaith laughed. "Oh! I yearn to see her, ya Badr, but my heart cannot endure her tears. I have sent my belongings, and I know she will weep once she sees them. I shall wait until the wind dries her tears, and when it does, Mother will welcome her son with a smile." Upon his word, a few members of the wind departed.

"The ever-shrewd man." Badr patted Gaith's shoulder. "Come, join us."

The men sat around a small palm mat. Gaith could not wait to devour the bread of his tribe and the fresh gahwa. Khalfan poured him gahwa in a small mud cup and handed it to him. The merchant brought the rim to his lips, took in the strong scent of the coffee, and drank it at once. The aroma caused him to shut his eyes.

Home.

So much had changed, yet he knew so little of it through Badr's letters. Among his cousins and friends, Badr was the only one whom Gaith considered as his brother. All these years training beside him, fighting alongside him, never let Gaith think that he was the only son of his parents.

Badr was the only one aware of all his struggles in Sham due to trading. All tricks, failures, and accomplishments that Gaith went through the past five years in Sham. He had left his tribe to discover trade and how to be a merchant. It was a wise decision, for he gained immense halal wealth for his parents. However, with wealth came peril, defeat, and desolation. Loneliness so severe that he could not endure it anymore, hence his return to the Rashideen tribe.

Badr was aware of it all since he was the only one permitted to read his letters to his mother and father. However, there was one thing that Gaith wished to inform him face-to-face and not in letters.

And today, he shall do that.

They sat there conversing about what had occurred in both Sham and the Rashideen tribe. "Good to see you again after so many years. One would think you had forgotten us, ya Gaith." Khalfan jested, his green eyes narrowed.

Gaith swallowed the date he just took a bite from, "I did send letters."

"Oh, I know, but not directed to me," Khalfan smirked.

"Be glad he sent letters; if it were you, ya Khalfan, you would have bid farewell to our memories as well." Jabbir hoisted an eyebrow at him, and the men laughed.

"Your memories would have been the first ones." Khalfan tossed a date seed at Jabbir, who gracefully caught it.

A tranquil smile played on Gaith's lips in the presence of his friends. His eyes moved to Badr, and he took in his appearance once more with a slight frown. Instead of the sword, Gaith was so accustomed to seeing with Badr; there rested on Badr's left side with a small dagger carved on the wooden handle was an Axe. The same blade that the leaders presented to knights who passed the trails and became soldiers for the Rashideen army. "Why the Axe, Ya Badr?"

"One must learn the craft of all weapons." Badr's fingers skimmed the Axe.

"Masha' Allah, it befits you." Gaith thumped Badr's shoulder.

"I do not think that there is a weapon in this world that does not befit him. Badr has been discovering the art of all weapons from the past year." Khalfan added.

"The past year?" Gaith caught on.

"Indeed, you are unaware of it." Jabbir nodded, eyes on Badr as if requesting permission.

Badr cleared his throat. "My sister,"

"Raghad?" Gaith asked, recalling the young girl who used to trail after him to teach her how to ride a horse since Badr refused, declaring it to be too risky for her.

Badr inhaled. "Yes, she is now," a sudden smile broke on Badr's lips. "The spouse of Faris al Fursan."

Gaith's eyes widened. "The Faris Mubarak Al Borkan?"

"Yes." Badr chuckled.

"I do not understand. Was Faris not the one who yearned to demolish this tribe?"

"That and more."

"Then why on earth is Raghad his spouse?"

Badr looked at Gaith and then narrated the unavoidable details. Raghad's marriage, the traitor in the Borkan tribe, Faris's aid, and trade with the Borkan tribe. "Ever since the trade with Borkans, bandit advances have been frequent to this tribe, hence the need for enhancing skills."

"Forgive me, friend. I was not alongside you." Gaith sighed.

Badr shook his head. "You have your own life to live. I would not forgive myself if you returned to manage my obstacles."

"Is this why you never mentioned any of it in your letters. Is this the reason your letters became shorter?" Gaith gently placed his mud cup.

Badr leaned forward, and Gaith noticed how bigger the man had gotten. He was broader as if preparing his body to become a mountain if calamity struck. "I had Khalid, Jabbir, and Khalfan with me. Do not fret."

Gaith frowned but nodded. So much had occurred here, and so much had happened during his stay in Sham to become a trader. If only they knew. Gaith knew that people murmured of the means of his trading, of his wit on the streets of Baghdad, the city of life, knowledge, and wisdom. He had almost plunged in misery yet persisted for a better life.

If only they knew.

"Is it true that you have become a prominent merchant in Sham?" Jabbir sensing the discomfort, veered the topic.

Gaith beamed. "I have a long way to become that."

"Always the humble one. We all have heard of your voyages from Badr." Khalfan verbalized.

"Life in Sham is different. The people are more aware," Gaith's eyes sparkled. "People from around the world come there to trade to learn."

Khalfan's eyebrows rose in wonderment.

Gaith nodded. "Even different religions live in peace and harmony."

"Truly?" It was Jabbir who asked.

"Many learners from overseas reside in Sham so they can learn from Muslim scholars."

At this, Khalfan placed his cup down too. "Masha'Allah, it must be wonderful to live there."

"I will not deny that. However, home is different. The air of this tribe is serene."

Jabbir laughed. "Is that so? You returned mainly because the air of your tribe is amicable?"

Gaith glanced at Badr, who had a smile on his face, and wordlessly examined the years' old friends converse. "No, I have come back because mother wished her only son to marry." The friends gaped at him in astonishment, even Badr. "A few moons ago, Mother had sent me a letter apprising me that she has found a bride for me after years of searching."

The men smirked at this.

Gaith being the only son, his mother made sure to search for a perfect bride. He had once thought of Raghad, Badr's sister, but diminished the thought when Jabbir had shown a liking towards asking for her hand. Gaith merely needed the pretext to return to his tribe, and once he had read the letter, he commenced to terminate his trading.

"Who is the woman?" Badr questioned, intrigued.

Gaith shook his head. "I do not know. Mother wishes to inform me when I meet her today."

"You have already accepted?" Khalfan investigated.

Gaith merely peered at him.

"Masha'Allah, ya Gaith. Just like your name, you are showering blessings upon your mother." Khalfan simpered.

The men did not prolong their conversation, for the gahwa had turned cold, and Gaith could not stay any longer without seeing his mother. "I must depart now."

Badr stood up just as Gaith did. "I shall accompany you to your house."

"Yalla, lead the way." Gaith watched as Badr grabbed his Axe and stepped out of the open tent.

Badr glanced sideways at his friend, noticing how his brows creased. The anxiety and mysteries Gaith concealed in his eyes. Despite being away for five years, Badr could still read the man like an open book. Badr knew that Gaith informed Jabbir and Khalfan only some of the truth; there was something else that he was hiding, something that darkened his black eyes.

Unlike him, Gaith had dark eyes and stood a few inches shorter than him. Gaith was lean, just like a merchant. A trader who wore an elegant thobe that brushed sand with leather sandals. His short hair beneath a dark turban and a dagger hung from his waist.

Badr desired to ask Gaith of the darkness in his eyes, but he knew that the merchant needed to return to his mother and get some rest. He would question him soon and provide whatever aid Gaith might require.

Badr kept walking on the east side of the canal, which he and the tribesmen had created by digging a well and opening it to the tribe. With Allah's blessings and Sheikh Faisal's consent, Badr had started changing the tribe. He made sure to be among those who molded the bricks, dug the well, and built the mud houses.

Sagr al Fursan chuckled as Gaith gaped at the tribe in wonder and admiration. The friends made their way straight, and when they reached a two-story mud house with wooden windows, Badr fell back. Gaith comprehending his friend's action, turned and shook his hand. "Rest. We shall meet tomorrow." Badr saw that a woman stood by the wooden door and did not want to intrude.

"In Sha Allah. Fee Aman Allah." Gaith made his way to his house, his eyes gleaming.

"Fe Aman al Kareem," Badr whispered as Umm Gaith pushed open the wooden door and embraced her beloved son.

Badr turned left towards the center of the tribe where Sheikh Faisal's house was. As he passed, tribesmen greeted him with a smile or shake of a hand. Eagle of knights returned their greetings with a grin of his own. He rubbed his hands against the cold of the wind, wishing he had worn a thicker thobe. Upon reaching the house, Badr bent down from the wooden door and announced his presence. Ever since Khalid got married, Badr always announced his arrival so that his sister-in-law, Fatma, would not face an unpleasant situation.

Khalid had married seven months ago after their mother had given up on Badr. Umm Badr, ever since then, never missed a day prompting him to find a bride or allow her to find one for him. However, Badr always chose to remain hushed. His father's health worsened with every passing day, and the obligations of the tribe landed heavier on his shoulders. He had a tribe and people to protect. A woman would find it arduous to make a home for her in his heart with everything that was happening.

Badr beamed when his eyes landed on his younger sibling Maha playing with Salim, his brother, in the courtyard. He entered the house, and from the main room, he turned left towards his father's chamber. Badr stood by the open door and gazed at the sleeping face of Sheikh Faisal. His face was paler than yesterday, body thinner. With a sigh, the son made his way to his chamber but came to a halt at the door.

His mother stood by the wooden window, waiting for him. Upon entering the room, Badr smiled and shook his head, aware why his mother was here. Sagr al Fursan stopped in front of his mother, leaned forward, and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Masha'Allah, you look rather beautiful today, mother." He smirked when his mother narrowed her eyes playfully.

Both mother and son knew each other very well.

"How are you?"

"You just asked me the same question when I departed for fajr prayer." Badr grabbed her right hand gently, and they sat on his cot on the corner of the chamber.

"I thought you would be..." she trailed off and here Bade frowned, troubled.

"What is the matter, ummaya?"

"You do not know yet?"

"Know what?"

"That Gaith is getting married." Umm Badr declared, her voice woeful.

Oh! The news has spread, and that is why his beloved mother is distressed. Badr bit the corner of his lip to conceal his grin. "And why is that a problem?" He took off his agal.

"I just pondered you would be a bit concerned."

Badr raised a brow at this. "I do not comprehend, mother."

"Did Gaith apprise you who his bride is?"

"No, mother. We were with some knights. I thought it would be better to ask him when alone," at her concerned look he carried on. "You are aware?"

"I have known from some time now," Umm Badr murmured.

"Wallahi, I do not understand you today, mother. You worry me." Badr brushed his thumb on her palms.

"The matrimony is fixed to happen after eight moons." His mother wrung her fingers.

"Of course, you know that as well." Badr chuckled.

"Engagement is next week." Again she carried on disregarding her son's remark.

"Masha'Allah, that is indeed good news." Badr made to stand up but stopped at her next words.

"Is it good news, my son?"

Sagr al Fursan moved his body to the right and looked straight into her distressed eyes. "Why will it not be good news? My friend, my brother, is getting married."

"Shouq."

Badr swallowed.

"Shouq. Faris's sister is Gaith's bride, Badr," Umm Badr regarded him.

Badr did not permit a single emotion display on his face. However, his shoulders tensed. Among all the women his mother wished him to pair with, Sheikh Mubarak's daughter always seemed to be the woman he wanted alongside him. Badr had even prayed to have Shouq as his spouse once or twice.

"That is indeed good news. This matrimony will strengthen the bond between our tribes."

His mother sighed. Badr threw his head back and laughed.

She knew.

"How did you know, my dearest mother?" He sat down again and wrapped his hand on her shoulder.

"Your eyes never truly looked at me when I conversed of your marriage. No other women's name or characteristics intrigued you. But whenever Shouq, daughter of the Borkan tribe, was discussed, you listened. Badr."

Badr slowly nodded. "Do not worry. It was not in my luck. We shall always pray for the best. Gaith is a good man, and I pray they have a peaceful life." He watched as tears swan in his mother's eyes. "Ya Allah, Ummaya, do not shatter my shield with your tears." He hugged her tighter.

"You gave away your powers, your happiness for this tribe, and now the woman you wished to pair. How can I have a son like you? How am I blessed with a boy like you?"

Badr attempted to smile. "It is because you are my mother. Do not worry; all shall be well." A tear trickled down Umm Badr's eye.

The knight knew it was a tear that spoke of Sheikh Faisal's health, Salim's illness, and Badr's misfortune. The son inhaled, unable to see his mother in such a state. He wanted to provide her at least a bit of happiness if he could, and Badr knew that his next words would bring joy to her withering heart.

"Very well. How about you look for a bride for your son? I accept to marry," He kissed her hands. "Your son is old now. He must marry before all the beautiful women belong to other knights." There, a smile, a smile he did not mean, appeared on his face.

"You truly wish that?" She faced her son.

"Yes, mother. I do. I have already reached the age of marriage, and as the leader of this tribe, I need someone to aid me." Badr declared.

"Oh! ya Waladi," She squeezed his hands, smiling broadly. "I will find you a bride who is worthy of you. Someone who can make you happy."

"You make it sound like you are going to a war, mother." Badr quipped.

"You do not understand, Badr. Finding a wife for your brother, Khalid, was undemanding. It is you. Your temperament, your magnanimous heart, they grieve me." 

"If that is the case, then you have my permission to declare the hunt for my spouse." Again, he chuckled which did not reach his eyes and caused his heart to throb.

Badr rose to his feet, grabbed his Axe. "Where are you going now? You must eat."

The knight cleared his throat. "My knights wished to discuss a matter with me." The lie scaled his tongue as he pronounced it. Badr silently asked for forgiveness from his Lord. He needed to get out of here. Badr needed to be alone and think.

"You must eat first; Salim was waiting for you."

"I will return soon. Do not wait for me." With that, he departed the chamber and out of the house. Once outside, Badr made his way to the stable where his horse was.

The wind roared around Badr as his horse galloped towards the Creek a few minutes away from the Rashideen tribe. The knight knew that the Creek was empty now. The women of the Rashideen stopped going once the canal in the tribe was created for water. After riding for a few minutes, Badr stopped, dismounted, and sat on a large boulder. The wind tiptoed next to him and tittered. It recalled how once Raghad sat on the same boulder, to think.

Gazing at the streaming water a foot away from him, Badr tilted his head back and sighed. Indeed, it did bother him to know that Sheikh Mubarak's daughter, Shouq, would be Gaith's spouse because he had ultimately decided to inform his mother to ask for Shouq's hand soon after he imprisoned the burglars.

It seems he was a bit late.

Badr breathed and attempted to empty his mind from the thoughts of Shouq. The sun ascended as he stared at the water, gush past him. A fish sprang from the water then dived back in. Bushes sway whenever the wind danced around him. It was cold despite the sun, but a sudden coldness in his heart made him run his fingers through his hair.

He had prayed for Shouq, but it did not happen. Badr knew there must be wisdom in the course of events that his human brain could not comprehend. Was he too late? Should he have expressed early? There must be some good in it, and he shall wish the best for Gaith, his friend.

If he wishes to return to his tribe as a leader, all these thoughts must perish here.

With a last sigh, Badr slid gracefully down the boulder and walked up to his horse. The sun was right above his head, and he knew soon it would be time for dhuhr prayer; he must return now. Sagr al fursan mounted his horse and journeyed back to the Rashideen tribe with scattered thoughts and a disconsolate heart.

His horse galloped over cracked lands, and soon ominous clouds closed in from the surrounding mountains concealing the mighty sun. An eagle's call caused Badr to look high in the sky. His sharp gaze narrowed when he recognized his eagle circling his tribe. Swiftly, his fist tightened around the rein; he urged his horse to gallop. Something was wrong; his eagle would not leave his chamber unless; something was wrong, and it craved to deliver a message.

Just when Badr was close to his tribe, his heart skipped a beat, and utter dread encased him in a foreboding cloak. Badr held his Axe in hand as he crossed the borders of the tribe, and without stopping, the knight leaped from his horse and stuck the blade of his Axe in the skull of the first man he saw.

"Do not let them get any closer!" Badr yelled, wiping blood from his right cheek. 

******

I know. I know, cliffhanger, but this will have you guys come back and push me to write the next chapter. 

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08-01-2021