HBAS Chat corner - Page 3

Akbar didn't respond to that last statement though.

'A proud moment?' Somehow, he wasn't sure this was an achievement he was going to be proud of.'..

'Let's leave... why are we standing here, after such humiliation?'

The Rana and Rani of Manswar spun around, making their haughty retreat towards the entrance - unresponsive to kakasa's pleas or kakisa's tears.

One moment... maasa... bapusa...' came Mahendar's voice out of the blue - stopping them in their tracks. 'I have this nagging doubt that's just cropped up...'He went close to Heera, unperturbed that he was being closely watched, 'You've been against this wedding from the very beginning, haven't you?!'

She said nothing.

'You claim you're sabotaging this wedding for Parnagarh, but I wonder if there's another reason too...' he paused 'maybe someone else?'

'Nothing of that sort!'

Tch...' he tapped his forehead 'I should have realised this when you reminded me of Durga's second promise... which states that you should be allowed to wed a man of YOUR choice...'

'What do you mean?' Heera frowned, alarm bells going off in her mind..

'I mean... an unmarried Rajput lady, who defies society... defies authority... and even her family... generally does it for only one reason - her man!'

A sly grin returned to his face, as he saw the smile being wiped out of her lips.

'Aidabad?' he whispered - low enough to leave an impact, but loud enough to be heard by her Godparents.

Her face stayed cold and plain, as she made a conscious effort not to flinch. Not to gasp. Not even to blink. Pity though, Heera was not as good an actress as him 'Aidabad? What about it?'

'You were there for two weeks... which is long enough...You stayed at a Mughal businessman's house' he candidly observed her features for signs of a reaction, like a hawk would observe its prey 'Didn't you?'

'And your point is?' Heera retorted, drumming a reminder into every inch of her body that she mustn't giveaway anything.

'I heard that the two of you spent time in each other's company...'

'Kunwarsa...' Chitranjan grit his teeth 'put an end to this disgusting topic... I will not stand back and watch this any longer... our Heera bitiya is purer than gold... so, stop throwing around these baseless accusations...'

'You didn't stop her when she had things to say about me... so, let me speak, Maharaj!' With a sneer, he turned back to the young lady 'Since, you were opposed to this wedding, I was curious to find out if there was some secret you were hiding... my spies informed me about this Mughal man, but I never gave it much thought - even when I heard that you both met and talked a few times... after all, he IS a Mughal... and traditionally, we Rajputs know to keep away from Mughals... we despise them...' he'd stressed on the word despise 'but now that I think back... it adds up!'

'A few formal discussions... that's all...' Heera hissed, desperately wishing there was something else she could do to shut him up right then and there. How dare he do this? How dare he ransack her secrets - personal secrets that she'd kept locked deep within? How dare he pry open her most intimate wounds in public, leaving her exposed? 'It was routine business... what else could it possibly be?'

'Really? You were discussing business?' Mahendar smirked. 'What business could you have with an eminent horse trader? I forget what he's called...'

'Akbar Mahmoud Khan Sahib!'

The agony that'd just forced itself up, left a trail of burn as she pushed it back down.

Heera glared at her challenger, her unbroken stare awash with a fresh pang of hatred. Yes, she was aware that he was toying with her. That he was going for the kill. But there was only so much she could do to keep it together. Helplessness. Desperation. Anguish. Exhaustion. Loneliness. Self-pity. A broken heart. There was only so much of it she could take 'It was just business...' she lied again, striving her level best to make her lie sound as convincing as possible - but not before her left eye had involuntarily misted up 'nothing more...'

There! He'd seen it, at long last. In her eyes. He'd found what he was searching for - 'a lover's pain'. He was sure now.

'It IS him, isn't it?' Mahendar gasped, almost surprised that his suspicions had turned true 'Ma Bhavani... save us... not only are the Mughals taking our lands... they're taking our women too!'

He took a conscious step back, suddenly repulsed by the very notion of a marriage with her, as if this baisa had turned into an untouchable. No amount of power and fame was worth pursuing a woman who was worse than used goods. That too, used by a Mughal.

'Maasa... Bapusa... and all this while she's been maligning MY character...'

'Shameful indeed, my Kunwar...'

'This is not true' A hot tear burst its bank when she found herself at the receiving end of several disgusted sighs from onlookers. Another tear came gushing down when she noticed the mortified expressions on the faces of kakisa kakasa 'He is twisting the story, like always!'

'Imagine the scandal when the rest of our community come to know of this... I wonder how many Rajput kingdoms will come to Parnagarh's help then...'

'You are accusing me without proof, Kunwarsa...'

'You forget...' he murmured 'scandal doesn't need proof... a few willing ears will do!'

Having dealt the final blow, Mahendar walked out on her, quite pleased with how well his gamble had paid off. He might have lost a few rounds, maybe even the battle - but he hadn't bowed out like an utter failure. He'd rendered his enemy disarmed, vulnerable and wounded.

Of course, that wasn't all. Once Khalil and the Shehzaade would hear the news that Manswar and its strong Hindu allies were withdrawing support from Parnagarh, there would be no valleys left, no Harka Bai left! But after having lost both, the Farmaan and the chances of owning Parnagarh - it was his only hope of getting something back from this mess. By gifting the Shehzaade this news, he would be gifting the prince Parnagarh itself - a certain means of gaining more power in court!

...

Raising his brows, he cast a lordly glimpse at his men. His eyes appeared hauntingly bloodthirsty - the kind of bloodthirstiness that'd lain dormant for a month now.

'The Sahiba' The Shehzaade took a deep breath - like he did every time he gave unpleasant instructions 'Find her... wherever she is... Bansi... Parnagarh... midway... wherever...'

'And? What do you want me to do? Drag her here in chains? Throw her in the dungeons elsewhere?'

'No don't bring her to the capital... her presence here might raise a storm...' The prince looked aside for a flash - because he'd glanced into the tyrant's eyes and seen a reflection of his own villainy in them 'finish it stealthily, unlike what happened earlier... stay within your limits... and no one must know what happened!'

'As you say Huzoor!' Khalil offered an adab, his mind quietly reeling from the heady anticipation of a brewing victory and all the benefits that came with it...

At first, Heera bit down hard on her quivering lip. But when the lump in her throat got too painful to swallow, she had to turn away. 'Lord!' she closed her damp eyes. Why did these emotions have to resurface again now? 'Let's say...' there was a subdued bitterness in her voice 'that of the two of us, he was wiser... he was quick to realise that we had no future...'

Soon, she wiped the side of her lashes 'I know I have disappointed my people by my actions... but I will pick up the pieces hereon and try my best to give them what they deserve...' quickly reinstating her poise, she met eyes with her friend again 'I plan to finish what jiji had started... diplomacy is the only weapon I have left... hopefully, it'll help me save at least SOME of Parnagarh...'

'Does that mean I'll never get to see you married, Heera?' Gauri wept, having barely heard the 'plans' and 'ideas' that her mistress had been talking out 'Are you going to spend the rest of your days in loneliness?'

It'd been two hours since the Farmaan had been authenticated. Which meant that by the end of this, Khalil would already have half-a-day's advantage over him - yes, Akbar had made the enquiries and done the maths. If Bansi had disowned Harka Sahiba, she would be vacating from the palace soon - leaving her isolated in the dangerous forests thereon, and extremely vulnerable to the clutches of the predator.

The only relief he had was the knowledge that Khalil and his men were no experts on forests routes - it would take them at least another couple of days to reach the outskirts of Bansi.

However, that did not make it any easier to sit here and bide time - especially when the very thought of what might happen if he didn't get to her first, made his hair stand on end.

But, much as he wanted to charge off, Akbar wouldn't do it.

By an uncanny twist of fate, he was currently enjoying an upper hand over the Shehzaade - and he wanted to keep it that way for as long he could.

'Simmer down' he kept telling himself - after all, this delay had given him one big benefit.

It'd given him ample time to compose his fears. And to channelize his frustrations into a strategy for what he planned to do next.

Now, all he needed was an opportunity to execute that strategy.

Thankfully, the opportunity came half an hour later when the men left, one after another - till there was no one else in that grand chamber but him and the Mughal prince.

The smile on his face distorted into a grin, as Shehzaade took one tough glance at the man sitting at the opposite end of the dining arrangement 'So... Ustaad... now that it's only you and I... do you want to tell me what's on your mind?' he paused 'Do you want me to apologise... is that it?'

'Not in my wildest dreams, Huzoor...' Akbar was quick to clarify

'But you want something... what is it?'

The young man's glimpses slid towards the silk kerchief beside his hand 'Huzoor... do you remember... that incident when you were crossing the desert once... your troupe was attacked... fortunately, my men and I had uncovered the assassination plot and reached you promptly...'

'Go on...'

'It was my first task as an Intelligence Officer and it was tough... for three days we had to fend off enemies... the weather was unbearable... we were starving... and had only 3 bags of water to keep us all going...' Akbar smiled to himself, as though recalling the incident fondly 'but what's important Huzoor, is that we managed to get you out of that attack, safe and sound!'

The Shehzaade was not grinning anymore.

'I have a good memory, Ustaad... so come straight to the point... what do you want?'

Akbar looked up slowly.

'You gave me a promise that day, Huzoor... remember?'

How could the prince forget? 'Ask for whatever you want, my man... and it'll be yours!'

So elated had he been by Ustaad's accomplishment that he'd offered him a gift, a 'promise' right away. And then, at the end of every mission thereafter too. Only, Ustaad had never cared to claim these materialistic gifts. At least, not until now. 'The offer still stands...' picking up a goblet of water, he took a sip of water to wet his parched lips 'anything reasonable you ask for, is yours!'

'Huzoor... with your permission then, I request for a promotion'

'Oh...' he smirked in part-relief, before taking another sip of water 'but you ARE already the Chief Intelligence Officer, so...'

'Huzoor... if you could put in a word to the Shehenshah, and let him know that I would like to be promoted to the rank of a special-ranking Mansabdar...'

The Shehzaade almost choked on his drink. 'Mansabdar?' he teased 'What do you plan to do, Ustaad... spend your days in court in hefty silk clothes with a pot belly?'

'A Mansabdar...' Akbar kindly interrupted the laughter 'A Mansabdar, permanently posted at Parnagarh!'

BANG!

The prince had thumped his goblet on the table in front. 'This is no longer funny...'

'But... I am not jesting, Huzoor...'

'Oh, really?'

'You have the Farmaan... Parnagarh is all yours... a new officer has to be appointed to oversee the place... so, I'm requesting that you choose me for the position.'

'I see...' the prince ground down on his teeth - unaware of what to make of the situation, unaware of how to diffuse it 'the iron ores... they've enticed you too now, have they Ustaad?'

'No Huzoor...' Akbar's stance was modest and matter-of-fact 'you know me... I'm a simple man... why would the iron ores or its money, interest me?'

'Not the iron ores?'

Strangely enough - and even when everything else about the scenario seemed suspicious - Shehzaade could sense that the young man was being honest about this particular point. It was neither power, nor money driving this demand.

Was it the Sahiba, then?

Impossible! This man would never get out there in time to save her life hereafter. 'So, why Parnagarh?'

His mind racing with the 'ifs' and 'buts', he tried stalling for a while 'Aidabad... has been a very convenient cover up for your operations as an Intelligence Officer and...'

'Huzoor...' sighed the young man 'worry not... nothing changes even if I shift base from Aidabad to Parnagarh... as your devoted soldier, I assure you that'

'But why not elsewhere? Bigger lands? With a more luxurious haveli? You'll have more horses and men too... Parnagarh will be wasteland soon... destroyed by the miners...'

'The miners would destroy 'some' of it... not 'all' of it, Huzoor... the valleys there have blown me away... excellent grazing grounds for our race horses...' he hurled a friendly nod at his Master, who he knew was also a fellow horse-enthusiast 'besides, I've met the Parnagarh men... they're efficient workers and loyal men... and they trust me... they'll be of better use to us alive, than dead!'

'Hmmm...' The Shehzaade rubbed his brows. It was becoming obvious that the Ustaad was trying to preserve what he could of Parnagarh and its people.

But with the Sahiba of Parnagarh gone, this request posed no real threat, did it?

If anything, the deal was beginning to sound quite promising - especially when coming from such an excellent businessman. 'Race horses? Income from loyal men? And the iron ores too? Profitable!'

Besides, Allah knew, if there was anyone deserving of such a promotion it WAS the Ustaad.

Yet, there was that niggling feeling at the back of his mind - as though there was still one question left unanswered...

'Huzoor? What do you have to say?'

'Ugh!' the prince grimaced. What an exhausting day to have such a dilemma sprung upon him! 'A promise is a promise' the prince would often boast. And now, when time came to follow up on his promise, he realised how tough it was! 'Fine!'

'It seems you are not happy, Huzoor... is it because you are not sure Shehenshah would approve of this decision?'

'Shehenshah?' The Shehzaade's stares narrowed into hard glares 'Parnagarh is MY province... I will choose my officers...'

'Huzoor, but what if Shehenshah wished to appoint one of his men instead?'

'NO ONE will override my decisions... not even the Shehenshah!'

Akbar appeared confused 'But...'

'Ustaad!' he agitatedly crunched his fists 'I am heir to the Mughal throne... are you doubting my authority?'

'I didn't mean to...'

'Kareem...' Shehzaade clicked his fingers as loud as a whip 'bring me my writing desk and my official seal...'

He waited for the attendants to clear away the dining arrangements and set up the writing desk in place of it.

Then, in a fit of impulse, he grabbed a scroll.

'I'm giving it to you in writing now...' he started penning down his promissory note 'unfortunately we'd need the Shehenshah's seal later to complete the final formalities... but this is good as gold...' Once done, he stamped his seal, rolled up the scroll and passed it on to the man at the other end. 'The old man cannot oppose my word... and the courtiers wouldn't even dare to!'

Having put up a cocky display of his authority, the prince slowly tilted his shoulders forward, his posture growing very intimidating 'But remember, you will serve ONLY ME... if I find your loyalties wavering, the consequences will be severe!'

'Thank you, Huzoor...' The young man received the scroll with warmth in his gazes. On the inside though, a cold rush had just gushed through his veins - dousing every fire and flame that'd been scorching him from within for so long - the scorching flames of unrest and anxiety, of distress and anger.

Finally! There was some hope.

'By the way, I have another question, Huzoor...'

'WHAT more? Anyone else making such demands, would've been thrown down from a tower... you realise that?' Shehzaade exhaled, partly-amused partly-vexed by this new side to the Ustaad 'Oh... go on then...'

Akbar indulged his master with a wry frown. 'Huzoor... as a special ranking Mansabdar now, my family have become the Sultanate's responsibility... have they not? I'll let no harm come to them when I'm alive... but, even after my demise, they must be protected and cared for by the Sultanate... that is what the law says, am I right?'

Shehzaade let the unexpected query linger in his mind, dissecting it every which way, before eventually giving in with a guarded response 'Y... yes...'

'Then with your word as assurance, can I take it that my family and my men will be safe... even if and when I'm not around, to protect them?'

The prince folded his arms across his chest, more baffled than he was a moment ago 'Which family are you referring to? And I don't understand... who's going to want to harm your family?'

'There are brutes out there Huzoor, doing exactly that...'

'Brutes? Wh... who? Khalil?'

'Yes, Huzoor...'

'Unbelievable!' Shehzaade's eyes suddenly widened, as it hit him 'You ARE doing this for her... you think you'll save the Sahiba? You think you'll catch up with Khalil? After all this while?'

'I will, Huzoor...'

The young man's confidence was unnerving.

'What am I missing?' the prince snarled 'Since when did Harka Sahiba become your family?'

Akbar let his eyes smile. Just for a moment.

'She will become family Huzoor... when I make her my bride...'

He was quick to add 'with your blessings, of course...'

With his left hand resting against his hip, the young man stood tall above the centre table pouring over the detailed map that'd been spread across it. His intent eyes traced outlines and pathways, while the wheels in his head were constantly turning - making thorough calculations and coming up with every possible assumption.

He only had a few titbits of information to work with. But he was determined to use that information well. He was determined to get his facts right first, even if it meant controlling his urges to go charging after Khalil straightaway. Because it was these measures that would eventually save him valuable time. And saving time meant saving lives.

'Hmmm...' Akbar ultimately cleared his throat that'd become parched from worry 'Khalil and his men headed East... which means... they could've taken any one of FOUR routes... so, we'll have to split up into four groups too' he paused 'Sayyid...'

'Yes Ustaad?'

'How many men did Khalil take along with him?'

'About 40 to 50... but, I heard he will be joined by a bigger army later'

'We have only 40 good men available now...' Akbar exhaled, mumbling his thoughts aloud 'if we split ourselves into four groups, we'll only have 10 men in each group... and who knows which group will end up facing Khalil's barbarians!' 10 men against 50 men - the risk was great. Curious, he looked up at his supporters to read their reactions to this unfavourable news.

But, there were no visible signs of fear on their faces. At least not yet.

Impressive!

'But...' Ibrahim spoke up, once the uproar had subdued 'Khalil is fast... and he has a day's head start... how are we going to catch up with him?'

The young man tied his hands behind his back, a wry frown brewing between his brows.

'Remember the lessons I'd taught you on Mongol warfare?'

'Y... yes...' His eyes slowly lighting up, Ibrahim traded glances with the rest of the men. 'Mongol warfare!' So, THAT is how their master planned to achieve this near-impossible feat of catching up with Khalil. Ingenious!

'We travel as 40 men... but we will travel on 80 stallions... each man will have an extra stallion riding beside him... as soon as you feel your horse slowing down due to exhaustion, you'll jump onto the empty horse riding beside you... of course, when that horse slows down again, you hop back on the first horse...' he shrugged 'thus, the horses would need fewer stops for rest...'

Akbar went on listing and elaborating further...

'Have your water pouches filled with fresh milk instead, like the desert tribes do... it'll quench your thirst and give you energy as you ride...' he shrugged 'we'll feel refreshed for longer... thus, fewer stops for breaks!'

'Third..you'll carry plenty of dry fruits and 5 flat breads each... to eat along the way...' he shrugged 'thus we'll need fewer stops for eating and snacking...'

'Fourth... every town we stop at... one person will go around making enquiries... the rest take a nap... we'll take turns doing this... and we'll need fewer stops for rest...'

'NOW tell me... are you still up for it?' he studied their faces closely 'Any doubts and you can drop out right away... I promise, there'll be no hard feelings... but...' he clicked his fingers 'if you come with me, you will have to give this fight your everything!'

'Ustaad... your war is OUR war... WE WILL STOP THEM!'

'WE WILL STOP THEM!'

'WE WILL STOP THEM!'

A Clearing in the Forests..

Heera unfurled the first scroll for reference 'I've gone through the documents... and, I would like to talk you through them...let's do this when there is still light in the sky... and before our paths split hereafter...'

There was a touch of sadness in her voice as she ended that sentence.

For Gauri and Ratan kaka though, the emotions were far more whelming. As it is, it'd been difficult to get over the anguish of witnessing how their once glorious baisa was reduced to a nomad, travelling the forests in the simple cotton attire of a common maid, her eyes weary from work, her pitiful appearance an apt representation of the true state she was in. But her latest statement 'our paths split hereafter' had brought an altogether new kind of turmoil with it.

The Forests..

'Please keep them safe...' Heera gazed at a constellation of twinkling lights patterned across the dense black skies, as she tried to read her future 'two days since my people left for Parnagarh... they will reach home safely, right? And what about my mission at the capital? You're a witness to everyone's past, present and future... tell me... will I be successf...'

Before she could complete the question, a mass of clouds had drifted across the sky. And the lights that were her only source of company for the moment, disappeared - leaving her doubts unanswered.

The young lady looked away with a sigh.

Immediately, and as if by an eerie coincidence, a disturbing sound echoed.

An instant passed...

Two...

Three...

And then it was heard...

SHRIEEEK!

A muffled shriek.

'Baisa...' came a couple of soft whispers from behind.

She turned to face the two guards, who'd been standing watch over her 'Gokul? Bajrang?'

'You must get back inside, baisa...'

'There are wild animals roaming about...'

Heera glimpsed at the two tents behind them - the makeshift shelter where her people were resting. 'Yes...' she nodded in agreement.

It WAS better she got back in.

The surrounding blackness was felt more unsettling than ever - a reminder of the 'unknown' that was lurking within these hostile thick forests. Forests so thick that even moonlight would not filter through. Forests so hostile where bushes were rife with poisonous wildflowers and the ground swarming with thorny undergrowth.

And not only was there no light, there was no warmth either. They couldn't afford to start a fire, in case it caught a bandit's eye. Why, they couldn't even afford to speak, lest the noises ended up attracting unwanted attention.

Thus, apart from the occasional chirping of crickets there was nothing pleasant about being stranded overnight in this remote cradle of Mother Earth.

However, they had no other go. They had to while this night in the middle-of-nowhere. After having endlessly travelled from noon that day, the group had become much too weary to keep going. With no strength to carry on till the next town - which was still many Koss away - they'd set up camp in a secluded part of the jungle.

Yes, Heera had tried to sleep away the uneasiness. However, moments after she'd fall asleep, a train of nightmares would force her awake. It happened over and over till she became too afraid to shut her eyes. With nothing else to distract her mind, the young lady had then stepped out - hoping to have a silent chat with the stars.

Apparently, even that wasn't meant to be.

So, she walked back to her camp.

Creaak!

'What was that?' She hurled a half-glance over her shoulder, as she was about to disappear into the tent.

Whenever a branch had creaked or the wind howled, the young lady had felt compelled to glance over her shoulder, to ensure nothing was creeping up behind her. So when a branch creaked again, she was tempted to do the same.

Only this time, she thought she saw something odd.

She hurriedly spun around.

Through grey stocky branches and the shadows of swaying leaves, she'd spotted what seemed like a hazy figure in the backwoods. A ghostly shadow.

'God!' An unusual chillness in the air, prickled the hair on her neck.

Realising she'd forgotten to blink, Heera blinked once. Twice. By then though, it was gone.

'What happened, baisa?' Bajrang asked in a low tone.

'Did you see that?'

Exchanging confused stares, the two men squinted their eyes and scanned the woods. 'No...' They shook their heads slowly

'Shall I have it checked, baisa?' Gokul offered, recognising her dilemma.

'Yes...' she muttered through ragged breaths 'Gokul... take a spear and a sword... be vigilant... if you find anything unusual, come back immediately...' she paused 'if you sense danger, use the owl's hoot to warn us'

'As you say...' Gokul acknowledged.

Quarter hour passed.

He wasn't back.

Half an hour.

No sight of him.

Almost an hour later, and she could take it no more.

'So, where's he gone?' No sounds of struggle had been heard either. Must she send Bajrang in search of him? But, what if Bajrang didn't return too? Would she send a third guard in search of Bajrang then?

'God' she choked 'What's happening? Gokul... where are you?'

It was as though the young chap had vanished into thin air...

'Baisa...' Bajrang's murmur echoed through the tent flap sometime later - much to her relief.

'Any news of Gokul?'

'No...' He shook his head 'It's been a while... I think I must go... search for him...'

'Yes...' she nodded.

All of a sudden, the Earth under them started rumbling. It was a distinctive rumble and no one needed to tell the other what it was - the thundering sound of hooves charging at them from all sides.

'Stay inside...' roared Bajrang as he closed the flap. 'DON'T come out...'

'OH MY GOD!' the ladies shrieked 'Robbers? Bandits?'

'Bandits?' Heera shuddered under her breath 'Can't be...'

The sheer number of horse hooves.

The clinking of sword against shield.

The Urdu slogans being hollered.

She added it all up - these were not bandits. They were soldiers.

But an army? Here? At THIS hour?

'Oh my God!' she gasped 'Please Ma Bhavani let it not... let it not be HIM... let it not be Khalil!'

The rumbling grew louder and louder, the wait paralysing them even further, till the sounds exploded into maddening war cries. Swords clanged. Yells were heard. The clash sounded terribly chaotic. And violent.

But it didn't last long. The Parnagarh guards were eventually subdued and restrained.

The shackled men of Parnagarh erupted into offensive threats - hoping they could lure these attackers away from their women 'Leave them alone...' they repeatedly shouted 'Fight us instead, you weaklings!'

However, abuses from their prisoners seemed to be nothing but a source of further entertainment for the brutes.

'IDENTIFY yourselves now...' they laughed 'or you men will soon learn why we've kept you alive... it's to watch what we do to your women...'

Their Marwari might have been jumbled, but the message was loud and clear.

'We are from PARNAGARH...'

Her daring answer had silenced the ruckus outside.

Heera pulled her veil low, moved aside the maids who were trying to hold her back, and stepped outside.

'Who is THIS maid?'

She was about to respond, but someone else spoke up for her - a voice that sounded harsher, and crueller than any other voice she'd ever heard.

'SHE' the man paused, stepping out from the shadows 'is their Sahiba!'

His tall profile stood out, even amidst such mammoth brutes. And as he began approaching her, one heavy boot-step after another, he seemed to bring the darkness along with him.

'Khalil' she instantly knew.

As her blurry eyes watched his silhouette slowly looming above her, it took the young lady every remaining crumb of strength from within, to stand rooted in her spot and not sink into a quaking heap.

'Baisa, what are you doing?'

'Please get back...'

She raised a shaky palm to stop them - so she could do what she had to.

Positioning himself right in front, he feasted his eyes on her petite form, top to toe to top.

'Harka Sahiba...' his taunt came out as an intimidating grunt 'As-Salaam-Alaikum...'

His crowd broke out into loud sniggers and smirks, adding to the insults.

A moment later, she wished him back 'Wa-Alaikum-Salaam...'

It instantly wiped out the sniggers and the smirks.

His grin fading away, Khalil studied the girl behind the veil.

She wasn't quivering like a leaf in his stormy presence. She did not sob and fall at his feet, begging to be spared, as ladies usually did when brought to him.

Neither did she stand in her spot like a defiant Rajput, proud and tight-lipped.

Instead, this 16 year old had reciprocated his taunt with an Islamic greeting - perfect and fluent. It was neither mocking. Nor friendly. It was just a greeting. And frankly, it threw him off guard for a bit.

'Do you know who I am?' he barked 'Maybe you've mistaken my identity...'

'Mistaken your identity? No... I wouldn't even dare to do such a thing'

'Oh really?' Khalil ground his teeth. If she knew who he was, why didn't she sound frightened-enough? Apart from a soft tremble in her sentences, there was nothing to imply she was rattled

'You better start sounding petrified...' He stuck his jaw near her ears, being louder than before 'or I'll MAKE SURE you understand the MEANING of that WORD!'

'I am standing beside the hacked body of my soldier... I would be lying if I said I'm not petrified'

The general broke out into a scowl, unconvinced by her tone. What was she trying to do? Be cynical? Be cordial? Flatter him? Act over-smart? 'Think I'm a fool? If you DARE underestimate me... you're going to PAY IN WAYS WORSE THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE!'

'My family has borne the brunt of your wrath...' she paused 'only 'I' would be the fool, if I underestimated the extent of your power...'

'What?'

Khalil still wasn't certain what to make of her attitude! He didn't trust her intentions either. But there was something about her responses. Something about the way she spoke what she spoke. It wasn't haughty. It wasn't timid. It was different. Surprising. And unique.

He had to see this girl for himself.

SNAP! He snapped his fingers at a fellow-soldier, who brought the flame torch close by.

Then, grabbing the veil from her face, he flung it behind her head.

'BAISAAA'

The skin on their ankles and wrists cut open, as the guards tried freeing themselves from the restraints. There was nothing worse than having to sit back and witness their baisa being grappled and manhandled by those filthy palms.

'Nooo... please...' Heera wanted to lament too as his savage grip tightened, crushing her jaws even further.

'What's the point of extending this torture, Heera?' She asked herself many a time, the flames of her spirit nearly extinguished.

But, those few sparks that hadn't been doused out yet gave her the answer 'You're doing this for the sake of your people!'

So, she decided to ride out this storm out too.

'WHAT!!!' Khalil burst out into a loud throaty laugh that continued ringing in her ears long after he had stopped 'You sisters like acting over-smart, don't you? The older sister thought she would fool me by handing over a fake document in place of the Farmaan... but, what happened? She ended up losing her... errr...' he scratched his beard with a grin, as though the older baisa's death was nothing but a source of entertainment to him 'anyhow... we all know how she ended up paying for her choices... and what a sad waste of life... since our Huzoor has asked us to go ahead and seize Parnagarh, anyhow...' he paused 'now YOU are trying to act over smart... what do you think is going to happen to you?'

Heera's fingers had turned white from having clutched the edges of her veil so tightly. His acidic words grated against her raw wounds, leaving her enraged. However, there was something that stopped that overpowering rage from bursting its barriers and coming up to the surface - something that'd distracted her just in time - something he had mentioned.

'A fake document? A fake Farmaan?' How could this be? If a fake document did indeed exist, jiji would have surely told her about it, wouldn't she? This man HAD to be lying. Making up stories. Playing mind-games to unsettle her.

'God!' Her head ached. Heera tried reading her captor through hazy eyes, looking for signs of trickery.

Granted, his expressions were petty and unpleasant - but from what little she knew of him, she couldn't catch anything different. Besides, what advantage could this man have, coming up with such a story now?

SO, if he wasn't lying, when did jiji have this fake document prepared? After returning from the horse fair? Then, why didn't she leave behind a message?

'Or maybe she did... an... and I...'

So, was jijis's final message - their childhood poem - not meant to ask HER to hide? Was it a clue letting her know where the SCROLL had been hidden?

Heera nearly took her palms to her mouth in shock 'But if the original Farmaan is still out there, safely tucked away, WHERE is it hiding?'

'Khan Sahib? Could he be the...'

She recalled his skill and strength. His knowledge and experience. His power and influence. She recalled his secretive lifestyle. His connections to the capital. His Marwari that sounded as authentic as his Urdu. And thus the doubts that'd once plagued her, returned with a vengeance.

'Oh... God... no...' She suddenly clutched her chest.

Shouldn't be.

She DIDN'T WANT it to be.

'Tch... tch... tch... seems our lovely Sahiba is not feeling too well...' Khalil winked at his men 'must we make her feel better?'

The suggestive remarks were met by loud cheers and sneers from his men, compelling the heiress to come to her own defence in a hurry.

'Best officer, did you say?' She resumed from where she'd left off, though uttering every syllable through a throbbing headache, was turning to be sheer agony. 'I was thinking... the Shehzaade must've wanted the Farmaan badly if he put his best men on the job...' she paused 'even his best men couldn't find it... so, one could only imagine the kind of name and fame it'd bring to the man who actually does hand him the original Farmaan!'

Heera waited for a response - expecting a nod or a scoff.

Instead, Khalil startled her and everyone else around, when he immediately plunged the knife towards her neck.

Fortunately, he decided to stop, just short of her skin.

In fact, she had him figured out so well that it was getting both, fascinating and exasperating. And what was worse - he couldn't figure HER out yet.

She looked as delicate as a flower. In spite of that he couldn't uproot her. Why? From where was she deriving this resilience, this invisible strength?

'So, what do you want in return, Sahiba?'

He knew he shouldn't be asking a prisoner that question. However, he couldn't help asking it.

She washed down her nervousness 'Please spare the lives of my people... and I will give you the Farmaan... it's a promise...'

'How clever, Sahiba! No, thank you... you tell me where it is... and we'll find out for ourselves...'

'Alright...' Heera drew in a quick breath 'It's in the 146th pot, outside the 23rd room in the East wing on the first floor...'

It took the general a while, but he retracted the knife from her neck - much to the relief of all Parnagarhis. 'Take her...' he smirked with contempt 'keep her under watch... away from her maids... away from her guards... we'll see what has to be done.'

No. Of course, he wasn't planning to keep up his end of the deal. He had no interest in sparing the lives of her people. But, taking HER life? THAT, he was beginning to have second thoughts about.

'Khalil Sahib... what are we waiting for? Why don't we kill them all now?' asked one of his closest men, who'd been a silent bystander so long 'Why don't we finish her off and be done with it... like the Huzoor had ordered us to?' His brows furrowed, as he observed his master busy watching the Sahiba being led away. 'Khalil Sahib?' he had to press on, when he received no reply.

'She will lead me to the Farmaan...'

'And then?'

'Well...' Khalil slipped the dagger back into its holder 'what fun in crushing a flower to a pulp under my boots? I'd rather plant the flower in my mansion's harem... and enjoy its beauty everyday...'

'What?'

'I'll make her my slave!'

With no strength left in her knees and her eyes blind to the paths she was being led on, Heera stumbled upon low-hanging vines and thorny bushes as she made her unsteady way in the darkness. Her feet were already bruised from brushing against jagged rocks, and it was quite a struggle to keep pace with five hefty soldiers.

However, she didn't put up much of a resistance - not even when they'd dragged her petite form away from the presence of her ladies and guards. She was too fatigued to protest - and if anything, she could do with a breather after having spent the past half an hour smothered under the weight of Khalil's intimidating stares and disgusting ideas.

Thankfully, the agony didn't last for long, and sometime later, she was crudely nudged towards the foot of a tree.

'Which direction have they brought me in?' her foggy senses wondered.

Just then, she heard a muffled snort. A long breath, and she could smell it in the air too - manure. 'The horses? They're nearby?'

Had they walked all around the camp, to the opposite side, in order to isolate her from her people? Had they brought her to a spot not far from where the horses were standing?

'Perfect for me...' she thought 'when the opportunity arises!'

No sooner than she was left alone, the tears that'd been forcefully suppressed, swelled up - one after the other. 'Oh God!' she lamented the humiliation she'd had to bear at the hands of these monsters. She cried, frightened and uncertain. She cried for her people, for poor Gokul, and for her jiji. And she cried about the unresolved doubts and feelings about Khan Sahib that simply refused to go away.

...

'What?' Heera awoke with a start, when she heard the boisterous echoes of laughter beside her 'H... how long have I...'

Her gazes were then drawn towards the silhouettes of the two soldiers who'd been standing guard. They appeared to be whispering to each other - laughing and jesting like fools. Not surprisingly, there was a strong stench of alcohol in the air too.

'The Sahiba...' she heard bits and pieces of their conversation, as the men spoke 'The Sahiba... has been peacefully asleep for the past couple of hours... imagining that our Khalil Sahib is going to spare their lives...'

'He'll chop their heads off, very soon...'

'Of course...'

'But, what about the Sahiba?'

'He plans to force her to give up Farmaan...'

'And then?'

'Make her one of his slave girls...'

'She'll become his favourite slave girl!'

'God... save us' Heera cringed.

She sat tight, waiting for the right break. And it came, when one of the men left for the tents, to refill his flask - while the other was fast asleep. The opportunity was here. Luck was still on her side. Probably best to finish it now.

So, she set her plan into action.

'The Marwari racer...'

Discreetly pulling out the yellow kerchief from the side of her skirt, she unfurled it open on her lap. With her wrists tied and her eyes barely able to see what she was writing, the lady had to use her fingers to guide her.

Dabbing out whatever kohl she could from the edges of her eyes, she used it as ink to scribble a message. But half way through the first word 'Help', her fingertips were dry. The kohl had run out. 'What else can I use to write... maybe my blood?'

Heera peeped around, searching for something she could use to prick her fingers, when something sharp poked her elbow instead. A low thorny plant. Twisting around, she pulled its twigs for a better feel 'Yes!'

It was a wild berry plant. She'd found her 'Ink'

Ma Bhavani... please help us...' was all she could say, as she started out on this quest.

The trek towards the horses was tougher than Heera assumed it would be - with only her senses to lead her along.

Her feet stepped on sharp stones, but she had to remain silent, biting down on her teeth when the pain got unbearable. Thus, she kept going, till she finally reached the place where the horses were standing.

It took her a few moments to identify the Marwari racer, her hands faltering from one steed to the next. However, when she located the horse, a soft smile broke through her lips - a gentle wave of happiness carrying her sunken soul from the darkest depths, briefly pushing it up to the surface.

With a sigh, Heera pulled her kerchief out and began tying the bright cloth to the horse's reins - where it would be visible. It was a struggle to do so with trembling palms and bound wrists, but she managed it somehow.

Once done, she glimpsed into the animal's eyes and then placed her head against it, making a final plea 'I'm not very good with handling horses... but I am going to try...' she gently stroked its neck 'my people say you're a special horse... if so, please prove it... please find someone... anyone... please bring some help to us, if you can...' she paused to wipe a tear 'and if you can't... please find your way to Parnagarh... warn them of what's to come... you did this for jiji... do it for me too... now go... quietly...' she gently nudged it on its way, hoping the sound of its hooves would not draw anyone's attention to it 'and may the Goddess be with you!'

Gradually, Heera retraced her way through the shadowy pathways, trying to work out if there was any other means of escape.

'My lovely Sahiba... where have you sent that horse off to?' a voice had suddenly crept up from behind.

'Khalil?' God! Why? Why? Why? Why hadn't she heard him sneaking up from behind? Her morale tumbling into the deepest pits of despair, she tried to come up with some excuse. Any excuse. 'I... I...'

'One soldier dosed off... so you took it that WE ARE ALL fools?' Turning to the rest of his men who'd joined him, he roared an order 'Go chase that horse and bring it back... I want to know what she's been up to!' He then reverted his undivided care to the prisoner in front 'Sahiba, I've been unusually well-behaved in your presence so far... I might have to show you what I am truly capable of!'

All of a sudden, his fists went for her neck, holding her throat in a vice grip as he began dragging her away to a secluded spot.

The Chase.

'Sahib... why have we taken this detour into the dense jungles? These woods are endless...'

'Why are we abandoning our original plans?'

'Why aren't we sticking to the usual routes?'

'Khalil and his army passed by that town several hours ago... if they'd travelled by the 'usual routes' we SHOULD've come across them by now... I can guess... they have taken a detour...' his fervent glances searched the pitch blackness 'they're out here somewhere... in the midst of these thick jungles... so...' he clicked his fingers 'If you're satisfied by my explanation... and convinced that I'm not losing my mind, shall we make a move?'

'No... no... don't slow... don't stop...' he whipped the reins harder - but his second horse would not move any faster. In fact, if it was not brought to a halt soon, its legs would collapse.

These forests had been his playground for most of his youth - he knew them better than anyone else. Yet, he hadn't been able to track down either Khalil or the Parnagarhis. Every drag mark, every trail, every campfire, had led to bandits, tribals or villagers. Having encountered nothing but failure, hour after hour, in stretch after stretch of these jungles, the chase was beginning to feel endless - as though they were riding in circles.

'AIII KHUDAAA...' bellowed the loudest guttural yell from his lungs, rattling the silence of the wilderness.

Akbar HAD to get off and let the animals take a breather. Only then, could he hop back on Bahadur and resume the chase.

'Khuda... have I not been a dutiful servant of yours? Have my prayers ever been half-hearted? Then... why? You've blessed me with success in every other venture... but, when it comes to my life's most important venture, I can't see success... why? I challenged Huzoor that I would stop Khalil... that I would find the Sahiba... but...' In a spurt of hysteria, he glimpsed up, questioning Mother Nature for being nothing but a mute witness to his plight 'Tell me... they ARE here somewhere, are they not? In a remote corner of your dense jungles? My men think I may be losing my mind... am I really going mad?'

'No...' Drawing in a heavy breath, he rubbed his face hard 'I'm not going mad... I know what I feel... and my instincts have never been wrong... something's happening and I have to stop it... I will stop it... come what may!'

He grabbed his hip flask and stepped aside for some solitude. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes, taking one sip after another, letting the drink refresh his parched throat.

But when he came to his third gulp, he froze. His eyes remained shut, the drink sitting in his mouth. His senses had just picked up on a faint difference in Bahadur's soft whinny. It was faint, but it was 'different'.

Akbar waited, wondering if it conveyed something, not even swallowing the mouthful in case he missed out on any other telling signs. And slowly but surely, a couple of other horses behaved in similar fashion - breaking out into low noises - the noises they made whenever they recognised one of their 'own', out there in the distance.

But, how could it be? One of HIS horses? Out there?

'Shhh...' Akbar put his palm up.

His men fell quiet.

And a few moments later, the hooves were heard.

'Go on, Bahadur...' he let out a sharp whistle 'go bring it back here...'

Shuffling its hooves on its spot, as if warming up for a game, Bahadur vanished into the darkness, to obey its master's wish.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

By the time the young man's fingers had counted to forty, Bahadur was visible again, returning with another steed by its side.

'The Marwai racer? The Sahiba's horse?' Akbar's eyes widened 'Without a rider?'

'What are you doing here alone, my boy?' he brushed its neck in order to calm the nervous horse down, trying not to let his own anxieties show 'Where's your rider and...' his glances fell upon the bright yellow kerchief tied to its reins 'What's that?'

Akbar was tempted to frantically yank open its knots to find out what the kerchief contained. But when he brought the cloth closer, he stopped. The lavender perfume wafting from its folds was familiar.

His heart stood still. 'It's hers'

Then, as if to compensate for the few missed beats, his pulse started racing stronger than ever - pushing him to make haste.

Loosening its knots, he opened the kerchief.

'H...E...L...P...'

Was scribbled in both, Urdu and Marwari.

His spirits sank. 'No... no... no... Allah please... no!'

However, everything drawn below the 'Help' was barely legible - smudged with kohl and red dye. All he could make out was that they were directions of some sort.

Obviously, the message was a distraught cry for help - a reflection of the grave danger she must be in. No wonder he'd been feeling so restless!

He HAD to rush to her. RIGHT NOW!

But, decoding these directions would take a while. And he did not have 'a while'.

Wiping the fresh sweat forming on his temple, Akbar looked up, into the Marwari Racer's long eyes. 'My friend' he whispered, his voice overwrought with emotion 'You will take me to her, wouldn't you?'

The Marwari racer lowered its head, as though in submission to his orders.

'COME ON MEN!'

The next instant, Akbar had seized his bow and strapped the quiver across his shoulder 'Pick your weapons... they've got to be nearby...' Grabbing onto the reins, he flung himself atop Bahadur in one agile leap 'we have to ride faster than the wind'

And faster than the wind was how fast he rode...

On bruised elbows, she dragged herself behind, another excruciating inch. But her back had come up against a rock. There was no space left to retreat to. And she knew the game was up. With all her ploys used up, her end was near.

Worn-out and spent, Heera let her body fall back on the rubble in defeat. She had attempted to run, she had attempted to hide. She had kicked him off, and scratched at his eyes. She'd tried reaching for the knife tucked behind her skirt, to slice his throat. And when that had failed too, she'd tried bringing the poison ring close to her lips to take her own life. However, her aggressor being far bigger and bulkier in comparison, meant that all those efforts had been thwarted right away.

After having fought long and hard, the young lady could fight him no more.

'No... please no... please... please...' feeble voices in her head continued sobbing in protest. But even they were dying a slow death. Why, even her tears had long dried up.

'I'll teach you a lesson...' Khalil repeated on and on, as he pinned her down - wanting to avenge his insult ever since his men had lost that Marwari Racer in pursuit. 'I'll make you suffer...'

Nevertheless, she heard nothing. Her mind had essentially shut down, running off to a place that was beyond dismay and shock - to a place where she could feel nothing, any longer. Maybe it was so that she could stop listening to his ugly language. Maybe it was so that she would become totally oblivious to the nightmare that was advancing towards her.

It was only a matter of time before her body would give up its ghost too.

For a fleeting moment, a soft flash drifted in front of her eyes, wherein she saw the faces of her loved ones. Jiji. Bapusa. Her people. Her home. Kakasa. Kakisa.

'Just stay safe, Sahiba...'

Her glimpses weakly shifted towards her right hand. 'Please ma... please let me reach for the poison ring...'

Alas, he had her wrists firmly fastened to the ground.

'Please ma... the poison ring, at least...'

The silhouettes of the tall trees that were miles and miles above her head, started descending upon her.

The chase...

'I can see it' they pointed below, where the forests dipped down, rolling into lowland

'I can see it too...'

'Yes...'

'That's got to be them!'

Akbar had spotted the dimly-lit camp too - instants ago. And every gallop that drove him nearer, allowed him to observe more of its scenes.

All of a sudden, his attention was jolted towards a mild scuffle in an isolated part of the camp, behind the campfires. Through the flames of his torch, when his blazing eyes realised what was going on, when he realised who the two shadows could belong to, his brows narrowed into the fiercest glare.

'YA ALLAAAH...' An explosive anger rumbled from his core, tearing through his body 'Khalil...' he snarled through his teeth like a man possessed, charging ahead to stop the kind of horrors that he guessed Khalil was trying to inflict upon his woman 'NOOO!'

In a frenzy he kicked his horse harder to speed it up - possibly hurting Bahadur for the first time ever. 'I am sorry...' he instantly stroked the animal's side when it flinched 'I was reckless... but only because it's a matter of your Sahiba's life and death... please understand, my friend'

Bahadur understood very well - and accelerated its legs to breakneck speed thereafter.

'Sahib, should we dash forth?' enquired his men as they followed him closely

'Should we warn them by blowing the horn? Or shooting a fire arrow in the air?'

'Should we attack?'

'Should we move ahead stealthily?'

'No...' he shook his head. With the Sahiba as Khalil's hostage, with her being completely at his mercy, none of these suggestions were quick enough or safe enough to stop what was happening.

He had to stop Khalil NOW. From HERE.

Letting go of the reins while on full gallop, he drew an arrow from his quiver, placed it against the string and drew the bow back 'Bahadur, you will have to steer yourself... gallop steady... and straight...'

When his group realised what their Ustaad was about to do, they were baffled. Here they were, holding onto their weapons, waiting for the signal to attack - but, he was going to take aim from hundreds of yards away? When the light was so poor? When the terrain was so uneven? When there were so many obstructions? When the Sahiba and Khalil were so difficult to tell apart? What if his aim missed? What if it hit her instead?

'Ya Allah...' they jointly broke out into gasps and prayers. 'Careful'

For Akbar though, the sounds of their gasps were no longer audible, like how the surrounding branches and leaves were no longer visible. He was in a world of his own, where all he could see was the enemy - a hawk focussing on its prey.

Every muscle was tense, as his head arched forwards, waiting for the right moment to arrive, so he could release the arrow.

Suddenly, from the lower edge of his eye he noticed a sharp boulder coming up on the way. Darn! Darn! Darn! Darn! Darn! This was not ideal at all. He would have to take aim exactly when Bahadur would be taking a huge leap.

The stress was severe. Nervous sweat trickled down his hair, leaving damp trails along his jawline and neck. Yet, his shoulders and wrists stayed firm as rock.

And a split flash before the boulder came, before his legs tightened around the saddle to make the leap, his fingers let go!

TWAAA NNN GGG!!!!

He had just taken the most dangerous aim of his life mid-air!

By the time he'd landed back on solid ground, everything came to a grinding halt!

Then, five edgy beats later, a piercing howl of pain echoed aloud. A man's howl. Khalil had been hit.

Having held his breath back all that while, Akbar was finally able to exhale in relief 'Thank you... oh Khuda!'

A brief while later...

His lungs were still short of breath from the gruelling combat, when his feet were brought to slow faltering stop on the isolated spot.

The last month had mostly been sheer hell for the young man - his days filled with raging inner turmoil, his nights sleepless and lonely.

Yet, it was these last ten steps towards her lifeless form that were the toughest part of this entire journey.

A fleeting glimpse at her attire, and Akbar knew that he had gotten to her before Khalil could...

But then, there was no movement whatsoever. Even her chest didn't seem to be rising!

'NOOO... no... no...' his lips parted in shock, as he instinctively reached out for her wrists to check for a pulse. But he couldn't feel much. 'No... it can't be!'

There weren't signs of stabs, or cuts, or blood - which hopefully meant she wasn't gravely hurt. 'She should be fine... she'll be fine, right?' he nervously rubbed his mouth 'Yes, she'll be fine'

He would NOT let his spirits sink. Not Now. Not after all this!

Mildly reassured, he bent low to get a better look, and it was then that the bruises on her cheeks, neck, arms and feet became more evident - telling him the very scary story of what'd happened.

'God!' his voice shuddered, thick with emotion. What had they done to her? What had they reduced her to?

Having always known her as a lady of position and power, having always seen her in such a dignified form - it ripped his heart to pieces to find her in such a state, so humiliated and battered.

'I'm sorry Sahiba...' The lump in his throat too hard to swallow, Akbar hesitantly crouched on the rubble, kneeling beside her. The tips of his fingers uncurled, about to check the sides of her neck for signs of life. However, his hand paused midway - moving closer only when he rallied some of his lost confidence again.

'Thank you... thank you, Ai Khuda!' A glimmer of hope spread across his features. There was a pulse! She was alive! Part of the angst in his frowns receded.

Yes, she was weak and pale. Yes, she was cold. Yes she'd been bruised, battered and humiliated. But the Sahiba was strong. She would heal from this ordeal. HE would help her heal. He would avenge the abuse and humiliation. 'Yes, I will...'

Before all that though, she needed warmth and medical care first.

Turning around, Akbar observed the camp that lay a short distance away. Her guards were heavily injured and the maids seemed too tired to be able to carry her over.

He clicked his fingers at his men, indicating towards a large sack beside their feet 'My bag'

Once the sack was brought over, the young man removed a large shawl from within and flipped it open. With tender palms, he then draped it over her clothes.

'Lord...' his chest heaved as he took in a deep breath - her folks were going to frown upon this. But it had to be done. Tucking his left hand under the arch of the neck, he carried her up. Cradling her limp body within his arms, he thus walked towards the crowded camp, seeking out its tents to shelter her from the open air.

'Khan Sahib?' the Parnagarhis' exclaimed - too dumbstruck by what they were seeing to sigh in relief yet.

What was this businessman from Aidabad doing here, in the middle of nowhere at this time of night, dressed in thick armour? And how had his appearance taken on such a formidable edge that he somehow even dwarfed Khalil's frightening personality as he walked past?

Was it HE who had led the second attack?

Impossible! Maybe he'd hired some very efficient soldiers to do the job for him.

So, did that mean that Khan Sahib also harboured enmity towards this monster?

But, how did he know how to find them here? And why did he risk his life to seek them out? Was he doing it for HER? For their baisa? Was it true then - the stories that were being spoken about Harka baisa and Khan Sahib?

'USTAAAD!'

Khalil watched the happenings quietly

Forced to kneel on the floor as a mark of defeat - blood from open wounds soaked his tunic, his reddened eyes spewed volumes of hatred with every passing blink. But even in that disgraced condition, even as envy shook him senseless, he had to admit - he was taken aback. Taken aback - by how the mentor had managed all this, and more importantly, by what he was currently witnessing!

Ustaad with the Sahiba?

So THIS was what his obsession with Parnagarh was all about? Petty feelings? 'Wait till I...'

But with not so much as a second glance at any of those shocked stares being directed at him, Akbar continued on his way to the nearest empty tent. Holding onto his precious one in a secure embrace, he ducked under the flaps, and stepped inside to lay her upon clean bedding.

Two weeks ago, he thought he'd never see her again. Two weeks later, here she was, so close to him, unaware that her vulnerably cold body was deriving warmth from his. Unaware that the very man who'd ingloriously turned her away had returned to pull her out from the jaws of evil and death. Unaware that he'd risked everything, vowing to protect her from these sinister forces forever.

Is that why she looked so peaceful, as she slept in his arms?

'Not asleep... unconscious...' Akbar soon corrected himself, realising that he'd been holding her for a few moments longer than he must.

Carefully putting her down on the bedding, the young man was about to stand up to leave.

However before he could do so, he noticed, by chance, that the scratches on her left cheek were turning blueish. The sight tugged very hard at his chest.

'I am sorry for all that you've been through, Sahiba...' he knelt beside her, subconsciously putting his hand forth, to inspect how bad the bruise was - when his gazes fell upon his own palms. They were grubby, dusty, callused, bleeding. He observed her - even in this poorly state, there was an ethereal quality about her. Was it right to tarnish her skin by touching her now? Without her permission? After how they'd parted?

How ironical though that he'd had no such reservations when he'd touched her the last time, at the canal.

And what was worse, the only memoir he'd left her from that moving encounter was an unanswered question -

'I'm referring to... all that... happened between us, Khan Sahib... you can't recall anything else? Anything you spoke... or...'

His gazes turned softer than dew as he remembered how her voice had choked up with grief when she'd put forth that question to him.

'I'm sorry I turned you away then... but... I'll answer your question today...'

Gently surprised by his decision to give her the reply she was rightfully owed now, a faint smile was born on his lips 'you asked, if I recall what happened between us?'

With a warm frown, Akbar led his thumb towards her chin, letting it slowly drift over, onto her cheeks. Caressing the silk of their skin, he rested his temple against the ornament at the parting of her forehead, the Borla - thus mirroring their touching encounter at the canal.

'Recall what happened between us?' he sighed a bittersweet sigh - as caged emotions that'd been banging away at the doors, finally broke free - soaring upwards, taking him along, for a brief yet beautiful journey 'Sahiba, there's nothing else that I've been able to recall so fondly, ever since...'

There! He'd answered her question now. Of course, he was more than happy to answer her question, again, when she awoke - but he was aware that SHE would not be prepared to listen to it then.

Having enjoyed the rare feel of a few intense heartbeats - a feeling he didn't know if or when he'd be able to feel in her company again - Akbar stood up with a resigned sigh. A moment thereafter, he left her side and stepped out - to send for the Hakim and to tend to several other duties that needed tending to.