"Before death takes away what you are given, give away what there is to give."Rumi

Poisonous stillness unfurled over the Borkan tribe like heavy fog, its venom reaching the thumping heart of the tribes' people, searing them. A shirl cry ripped through the baneful silence like a dagger. One of the women preparing the feast on the open fire screamed in such a way that Badr felt gooseflesh decorate his skin. However, the sight in front of him caused his hands to quiver and his mouth dried.

The caravan, or what appeared to be Gaith's caravan, stood in the middle of the tribe. Instead of fifteen camels that shouldered the dowery, were six camels, empty of their howdahs and free of their men, but what led Badr to take a few shaky steps forward was Jabbir, his dearest friend wounded and bleeding: holding the rein of a specific camel.

"I vowed to bring him to you." These were the last words Badr heard Jabbir speak before he collapsed on his knees and fell face-first onto the pebbles.

Without wasting another second, Badr ran towards Jabbir; he too ducked to his knees and held his friend's unconscious body to his chest, disregarding the blood and gore marring his robe. What is happening? Where on earth was Gaith? Where were his knights?

Badr was half aware of the Borkan and Rashideen tribe encircling him with bewildered eyes; however, what mattered was Jabbir and Gaith, but where was Gaith? Voices laced with apprehension rose in the night sky, dancing with the chilly wind and becoming one with the fear that lapped at Badr's thudding heart like a roaring blaze.

More people gathered as the dark fog of venom thickened, and the stars concealed themselves, and then a loud booming voice bellowed. "My son! Waladi. That is my son!" Badr's body froze. He recognized the voice and comprehended the meaning of those painful words.

Clamorous gasps and cries ignited around them like continuous thunder aiming to torch the plain desert. For that moment, both Rashideen and Borkan tribes burned. Still holding Jabbir's body against his chest, Badr turned his body in time to see Nasser and Khalid lower another body hanging on the camel that Jabbir was leading. His heart skipped a beat when he finally found out where Gaith was.

Nasser and Khalid lowered Gaith's body next to Jabbir, and Badr gaped, his mind jumbled. What happened? Who could have done this? Soon after, Gaith's father appeared next to his son's body and wept. Badr glanced towards Khalid, and as if understanding his sibling: Khalid rushed to hold Jabbir's body as Badr fully turned towards Gaith.

Disregarding the mourning father, Badr moved his fingers towards Gaith's throat. However, when he did not feel any movement on Gaith's throat, the eagle of knights moved his fingers to Gaith's wrist and could not find any motion either. "Tell me Badr; by Allah, tell me my Gaith is alive."

Badr stared at Gaith; his eyes moved over the body. There were innumerable wounds on the groom's body as if the man had fought vigilantly before his fall. His white thobe, the groom's robe had turned red, his blood bathing the sand next to them. Badr stared at the deep gashes on Gaith's belly like someone had propelled a sword below Gaith's ribcage; his face was swollen with dried blood and dirt coating his eyes and beard. Upon seeing this appalling sight, water began to sting Badr's eyes.

"Inna Lillahi wa Inna Ilayhi Rajiun." Badr whispered, his bottom lip wobbling slightly.

As Badr spoke those words, Gaith's father broke down, clutching his son's body. "Ya Allah. Ya, Rab." The man moaned.

The crowd enveloping Badr exclaimed, and voices pitched over them like disheveled bees. The unforeseen change of affairs shook the tribes. That moment, the wind stood beside Badr, and when it witnessed Gaith's swollen body, the wind shivered, causing the trees to rattle and Badr to tremble.

Eagle of Knights watched as Gaith's father pressed his forehead to his son's. The man's body trembled as he took deep breaths. He lifted his head, and Badr saw tears brimmed his eyes. However, what shook Badr to his core was the transformation in the man's eyes. Badr witnessed a veil flutter over the man's eyes, and his form went stiff as if concealing his despair from the people. "Inna Lillahi wa Inna Ilayhi Rajiun." Gaith's father uttered the words, placing his trust and patience in Allah.

Badr dropped his head as an inferno screeched at its mightiest within him. He was late again! Oh Lord, what was occurring? Ya, Rab, where will this test take him? Gaith was dead? They massacred him on the day of the nikkah, but who could have accomplished this? Why would anyone wish to slaughter a merchant?

An immobile sensation commenced slithering on Badr's body like deadly worms. They had done it again. First, those men killed Sheikh Faisal within the boundaries of his tribe, and now Gaith was massacred at his wedding.

Badr lifted his head to grab Gaith's father's shoulder, to pillar his pain. However, he knew he could not, for Badr had failed to fulfill another oath. He was unsuccessful in protecting the father's son, the bride's groom.

As the man's silent sob pierced Badr's heart, the light that had once shone in Badr's eyes perished like a smokeless fire. He peered at the man, no wetness in his eyes and his heart numb. Badr Rashideen was dead, and in his place sat a man he once feared he would transform.

"O, the people of my tribe, return to your dwellings," Ordered an assertive, familiar voice. "My knights, station around the tribe." Badr turned his head right to see Faris instruct his people, and the Borkan tribe obliged, despite the astonishment and bafflement over them.

"Badr, by Allah, you must control yourself. You must be strong for Gaith, for this tribe." Badr gaped at the man. His words compelled Badr's inside to twist. How strong was this man's faith in Allah that at the sight of his dead son, the one who was a groom tonight, the man collected himself and placed his utter trust in his Lord?

When Badr could not respond, Gaith's father shook his head. "He was the apple of my eye, my son. Badr, he was my Gaith. He was the mercy Allah had sent to me. You must bring justice to his murder."

Badr nodded and applied gentle pressure on the man's shoulder. "Aami," he swallowed, shell shocked at the man's faith.

"My son. My beloved son." Gaith's father kissed Gaith's forehead: and he stayed bowed, grieving silently. "He was to be a groom tonight. My son was to marry tonight. You must avenge him. What will I tell his mother?"

"We must move the body; there are many people here." Two men appeared by the weeping man's side and gently lifted him. "We must go inside."

Gaith's father stared at his son, silent tears trickling down his eyes. "He has returned to his Lord. My son has received an honorable death. He is a martyr. May Allah forgive him." As he spoke the last words: a sob racked the man's body.

The man who helped Gaith's father stand was Badr's uncle, who nodded at the words. "May Allah grant him Jannah."

Upon this, the father placed his head on the other man's shoulder and moaned: allowing the men to take him inside the tent they had marched out of a while ago.

Badr quickly shrugged off his robe and draped it over Gaith's body; he willed himself to not shatter before the people. He had to lead his tribe and remain in his senses.

"Faris, we must move the body." Badr turned to Faris, who stood behind him. He noticed that Sheikh Mubarak had left with Gaith's father, and most of the people were gone; only some of his knights and Faris stood around him.

"I have already ordered Abdullah to gather some men," Faris responded, his dark eyes on Gatih and Jabbir's bodies, then his gaze moved to the caravan. "Who could have dared to attack this caravan, Badr? What are you not disclosing to me?"

Badr disregarded Faris's query as he held the side of his robe and wiped the gore from Gaith's face. Memories of their time rushed back to him like a gushing stream. How at a young age, Gaith became a brother to him. Badr had been the only one who supported Gaith when he desired to travel to Sham for knowledge and trade. Even though they did not share blood, Gaith was his brother: they were inseparable.

And now, seeing his brother's body drenched in blood, Badr did not know what to commit. Could he shriek his pain to the world? Why did he not accompany him today; he could have protected his brother. If death were to knock at someone's door, it should have been Badr's, not Gaith, not the guiltless merchant who would not harm a fly.

Badr's gaze moved to Gaith's clenched left fist. He held his friend's hand and gently unclenched his fist. Badr frowned at what Gaith had been clenching inside his fist at the time of his death. Without allowing others to see, he grabbed the object and hid it in the pocket of his thobe.

As the night grew chiller, almost a dozen men appeared: among them was Faris's close friend and Sheikh of the masjid, Abdullah. They gently picked up Gaith's body and placed it on a palm mat. Then about seven men made their way towards the masjid, with Abdullah leading them. The other men turned towards Jabbir; they checked his pulse and quickly but gently placed his body on another palm mat and walked away from them.

Badr climbed to his feet and finally came face-to-face with Faris. Faris's eyes articulated his wrath, and Badr comprehended Faris's fury. Gaith was to wed his sister; however, the veer of events had left the man baffled.

"We must speak." That was all Faris uttered before he made his way to the space behind the large open tent. Fisting the object Badr took from Gaith in his pocket, he walked up to where Faris stood, but not before telling Khalid to return to the tent and shoulder Sheik Mubarak in handling the situation as leader of the Rashideen tribe.

The full moon sat like a jewel on its crown. Its beauty spread a silver light over the tribe; however, at that moment, the light distressed Badr, for his heart had darkened, yet the moon glimmered with magnificence accompanied by the stars, chirping of her beauty.

The knights halted in the space, just a few feet away from Sheikh Mubarak's house. Knight of Knights faced the Sagr al Fursan, two foes who had become dear friends. "I apprised you that this was not only your war, ya Badr. Yet, you concealed matters of great significance from me," The gruffness on his voice relayed his ire. "You must know that every eagle that takes flight in the desert. I know where it shall anchor."

Badr understood the meaning behind Faris's words. Prince of knights meant him. "There is no need to unveil. I know you are aware of all that I execute."

"I wanted you to inform me. I wanted the man who combated alongside me in the battle to apprise me," Faris scoffed. "Did you believe you alone can terminate a tribe of bandits?"

"No, ya Faris. You cannot be involved in this." Badr replied with just as much firmness. He attempted to conceal the mayhem chanting in his heart. Today was not the day. He needed to shroud Gaith and be a leader for his tribe.

Faris took a step forward: a frown etched on his face. "Well, Sagr al Fursan, I am involved now. Shouq's spouse is dead, and they sent his corpse to my tribe, Badr, my tribe."

"This is not your battle, Faris. You must not step foot into this world. I will not allow this for Raghad's sake."

Faris gave a humorless chuckle. A gentle breeze tiptoed around them, taking with it Faris's robe. "If you are protecting your sibling, how foolish of you to ponder that I shall not protect mine."

"I am endeavoring so that my sister does not become a widow too." Badr hissed, an immoral rage coxing him to scream.

Both knights turned to their side when a horrified gasp sounded. Badr felt his form recoil as if someone gutted him in his midriff. There she stood, the woman he had once yearned to pair. The woman who had stood before his sword to shield her sibling. Shouq. Badr's eyes landed on the tears that streamed down her eyes. He dropped his gaze, unable to see the Borkan daughter weep for Gaith.

"Is it true, Faris? Is Gaith, is he dead?" Badr heard her question. He did not lift his gaze as Shouq made her way toward them. With every step that brought her closer to him, Badr grew smaller. When Faris just stared at Shouq, she demanded again. "Tell, me! Is Gaith gone?"

To prevent himself from lifting his head, Badr stared at his bloody palm, the hand that a few moments ago held Shoug's Gaith. Once again, there was blood on his hands, blood under his nails. Warm blood that turned his blood cold.

"What are you doing here, Shouq? Why did you permit her to depart the house, Raghad?" Faris demanded, and at the mention of his sister, Badr raised his head, and true enough, Raghad stood right behind Shoug.

It was then Badr took note of what the bride wore. She wore a lush green gown with golden embellishment, her neck and wrists adorned with gold Badr knew Gaith had gifted her. And her eyes, the eyes that shed tears, had kohl on them.

Raghad did not reply, she shook her head, and Faris exhaled. "Shouq, you must return ba--"

"NO!" Shoug screamed at Faris, "tell me, where is Gaith? I want to know?" Badr saw her eyes narrow, ardent desperation in them. As Badr peered at her, he understood her madness; somehow, it resembled the serpent that slithered in his brain.

Faris tilted his head back as if praying for patience. "He and his caravan were massacred while traveling here."

"Where is he?" Shoug took another step. Her body shuddered as fresh tears rushed into her eyes.

"You must not." Faris moved his body towards his sister.

"Where is Gai-" Before Shoug could complete her sentence, her form swayed, and the next moment her feet buckled, her body descending to the ground.

Both Faris and Badr rushed to her side, but a foot away from Shoug, Badr halted, recalling that he was nothing to her. Badr watched as Faris held his sister from falling and encased his arms around her. Badr moved his gaze to Raghad, who sat beside her spouse. "Faris, we must take her inside. Ever since she heard the news, Shoug has been hysterical."

"You must return inside and oversee the women. I will carry Shoug to our chamber." Faris lifted Shoug's unconscious form in his arms and made his way to their house in quick strides.

Raghad peeked at Badr, and the siblings stared at each other for a while. Gradually, Raghad ambled up to Badr and enveloped her arms around him. As soon as Badr wrapped his hand around Raghad, his shoulders sagged.

"By Allah, ya Badr, I have longed to catch a glimpse of you. I wish to converse for hours with you. I desire to know from you how father died, but;" she moved away from his embrace and peered up at him. "Tonight, is not that night."

Badr smiled. His smile informed Raghad of the despair and hopelessness he was feeling. His smile whispered the tale of misery their father's death had given birth in his heart. "I have failed father, Raghado."

A tear rolled down her right eye. "You can never fail him. It is you who shouldered his pain when he lay on his deathbed. You departed the tribe to locate those men accountable for his death, aware of peril lurking. You must know, ya Badr; you can never fail him or us."

Badr's throat constricted at her words. Indeed, she was the one who comprehended him more than all of their siblings. "What if I am late again?"

Raghad wiped her tear. "Time is not in our hands, Badr. It is Allah who created time. If you were ever late in protecting anyone, know this it was decreed."

Badr bit the corner of his lip. "I gave my word to shield Gaith. He was my brother."

"He died a martyr. What you must do now is to avenge him."

Badr moved his head to his right and stared at the wall of the Borkan house for a while. His brain displayed Shoug's teary face and her grieving eyes. Upon the pain in Badr's eyes, the moon dimmed its glimmer.

"Your son has your eyes." He glanced down at Raghad, his dearest sister.

"And he has your valor." Raghad smiled a sad smile. "I must return. Everyone is in the house chaos is bound to unleash soon."

Badr nodded and watched as his sister made her way to the house, leaving him alone with hazardous thoughts and a mourning heart.

**

Seven days later

Badr finished his tahajjud prayer but remained seated on the floor praising his Lord and sending Salawat to the prophet. Finally, satisfied with his supplications, he rose to his feet and made his way out of his chamber. The night was noiseless. It almost resembled the silence after a deadly storm.

Indeed, the Rashideen tribe witnessed a horrifying storm. Around ten of Badr's knights were butchered, and a wedding caravan got looted. Gaith's death was like a gloomy cloud on the tribe. He was the man who had spread the Rashideen name in AlSham, earned admiration, and now, slaughtered on his wedding day.

But why?

A week ago, Badr buried his friend, his brother, Gaith, in the Borkan tribe. They dwelled two nights under the Borkan sky due to Jabbir's injuries; meanwhile, Badr had to restrain his urges and be patient. Now, however, seven days of sheer agony had sailed, and he was finally able to depart to search for those who ripped his tribe apart.

Eagle of Knights halted by the foot of his mother's chamber and watched her sleep. Badr felt remorseful for depriving his mother of her son. He knew his absence was formidable for her, but he could not stay. With his sword and ax in hand, Eagle of Knights departed from Sheikh Faisal's house towards the boundary of the tribe where his knights waited for him.

The night was freezing; and extremely cold. Badr made sure to grab a thicker robe for his journey. The coldness the Rashideen hearts felt echoed in the weather to an extent the once glimmering stars now seemed dull.

"I believe I ordered you to stay behind." Badr sighed as he reached his knights.

"I will not stay back while you wander the desert, prince," Jabbir replied. There were bandages on his left arm: and another Badr knew on his midriff.

"You have not recovered. You will be a burden for us." Omar retorted, challenging the man.

Jabbir glared at Omar, then moved to look at Badr. They now stood a few feet away from the palm trees.

"Must you be this relentless?"

"Must you be this hard to persuade?"

"This is not a matter of jest, Jabbir. I cannot imperil more lives." Badr growled, reminding himself to stay calm.

"Whenever you go, I go." Jabbir straightened his spine. The moment, Jabbir's horse cantered to stop right behind him.

Badr exhaled. When he had seen Jabbir fall, Badr had been sure Jabbir was gone. But, Allah had given Badr a miracle. Jabbir was not wounded severely. The blood that he had on him that day was Gaith's blood. "Very well, you can accompany us, but as soon as your health deters, you must return to the tribe and rest until you heal."

Jabbir beamed, victorious.

"Yalla, let us depart." Badr held Barq's rein, and they made to leave the tribe.

"I would never leave you alone with this lot," Jabbir murmured as they assembled in a small crowd.

"I am not unaccompanied. Khalfan is with me." Badr encased the ends of his headdress over his face against the wind cutting on their skin.

"Yes. Yes, but Khalfan is not a remarkable swordsman." Jabbir responded.

"I heard that, ya Jabbir," Khalfan growled.

The men gradually made their way to the boundary of the tribe and soon crossed it. None of them uttered a word, all lost in their contemplation. What horrors await them this time? Will they locate the man behind all this massacre?

Just as Badr and his knights reached the small hill just outside the tribe, all men halted and moved at the speed of lighting. Badr drew out his sword, and every man behind him followed his action, and this Badr knew by the scrapping of his men's sandals against pebbles.

They are here! They reached his tribe again. Not this time! Badr will not be late in protecting his tribe this time. Terror and rage swirled like a whirlpool in Badr.

Badr alone stepped forward when shadows moved away from the hill and made their way towards him. Blood rushed to his ears, his vision for a moment disfigured due to downright anger and adrenaline pumping in his veins.

Eagle of Knights held the hilt of his sword tighter as he took another step forward. It was too dark to distinguish the people in front of him; the once full moon now gazed down at Badr dressed as the crescent.

Just as he was a few feet away from the people, Badr's eyes widened; and Sagr al Fursan lowered his sword. His widened eyes could recognize the person, but he could not believe his sight. What were they doing here? Why were they here at such an hour?

How is this even possible?

He peered at the person before him, thinking it may be a mirage, a ruse of his brain. However, they were there, right before him, staring back at Badr with a calmness he did not share.

Silence caressed the world, lulling the wind to slumber. Ya, Allah! It was not a mirage; Badr could recognize the person in the chasm of darkness, even with his eyes closed, for it was not his eyes looking but rather his heart who would seek them out.

Shoug!  

*********

Well! How was the chapter? I tried so hard to write this chapter mainly because of Faris. Usually, he was always the main lead and his word was above others, so in this book, it was extremely hard not to take the spotlight from Badr and at the same time make Faris shine. 

I hope you guys liked it.