Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Nov 24, 2008 19:19:31 GMT -7
The power of great heroes flowing through him, Amir boldly guides his skeletal eagle in a descending spiral towards the ground where Ramad's soldiers stand and confidently leaps off the beast.
"Take us to Captain Ramad at once!" Amir orders the guard with the commanding presence of an al-Badian chieftain. "We have business with the sorcerer Hirakur. This treachery you witnessed is his doing." He stands there, a menacing and commanding presence waiting to be defied.
Lum lazily drifted his mount back to the earth, thankful he was not killed. "Crazy" they used to call him, but he always thought his fellows in arms were crazy. "Why play it safe and live a longer life of servitude" he would say to some of his "friends" among the order. Some didn't understand.
Dismounting his beast, Lum gave it a small pat and said, "That'll do."
Turning to the approaching form of his novice Amin, Lum wiped the smile from his face, lest he seemed too please with the boy's accomplishment. When in range, he merely said, "Good, novice, good. Now find my Jambiya."
Looking over to Amir, he wondered if the man had been an actor in a previous life and smiled through his bruised and battered face.
"Where's a healer when ya need one." Sigh...
Ya'qub staggers to his feet, feeling his arms and legs to ensure that they were still connected and intact. He shakes the sand off of his body and sputters, "Wha-a-a happened? Is it over?"
"Ah.." stammered the ranking soldier, tearing his gaze from the skeletal eagle that loomed behind Amir, bony wings outstretched. After a moments pause he ordered his men to mount their camels. They shifted nervously in their saddles, ready to lead the party back to camp.
The young barber Amin, faced with searching the wide qara'a and noting the attention of the hardened soldiers gathered at the qara'a's edge, snapped a crisp salute and ordered his mount back to the sky. He flew low along the ground, seeking a glint of steel in the moonlight. During his search he passed over the crumpled mass that was the body flung toward them when they first entered the qara'a. Amin landed and hopped down, somewhat sore about his crotch and thighs, and strode forward to examine the body.
Ali wiped the sweat from his brow and joined Lum and Amir. Ali's familiar Yakhil alighted on his shoulder and peered curiously at the group.
Wincing at Lum's battered face, Ali offered to have a look. "I've worked as a healer," he said.
Ya'qub had no sooner stood when he was almost bowled over. His sore ribs were squeezed in Sahra's embrace. She held him trembling, not saying a word.
Who understands a woman's heart?
The party stood together on the edge of the qara'a, the soldiers of the House Fajirik still not having stepped even a foot inside the forbidden grounds, when Amin returned astride his eagle. He raised Lum's jambiya in triumph, unable to restrain his boyish delight.
Before him, draped across the ribcage, a figure. Amin landed and with some effort pulled the man off. The robed figure's head flopped back with a gut-turning 'crack!'. It was Hirakur.
"Take us to Captain Ramad at once!" Amir orders the guard with the commanding presence of an al-Badian chieftain. "We have business with the sorcerer Hirakur. This treachery you witnessed is his doing." He stands there, a menacing and commanding presence waiting to be defied.
Lum lazily drifted his mount back to the earth, thankful he was not killed. "Crazy" they used to call him, but he always thought his fellows in arms were crazy. "Why play it safe and live a longer life of servitude" he would say to some of his "friends" among the order. Some didn't understand.
Dismounting his beast, Lum gave it a small pat and said, "That'll do."
Turning to the approaching form of his novice Amin, Lum wiped the smile from his face, lest he seemed too please with the boy's accomplishment. When in range, he merely said, "Good, novice, good. Now find my Jambiya."
Looking over to Amir, he wondered if the man had been an actor in a previous life and smiled through his bruised and battered face.
"Where's a healer when ya need one." Sigh...
Ya'qub staggers to his feet, feeling his arms and legs to ensure that they were still connected and intact. He shakes the sand off of his body and sputters, "Wha-a-a happened? Is it over?"
"Ah.." stammered the ranking soldier, tearing his gaze from the skeletal eagle that loomed behind Amir, bony wings outstretched. After a moments pause he ordered his men to mount their camels. They shifted nervously in their saddles, ready to lead the party back to camp.
The young barber Amin, faced with searching the wide qara'a and noting the attention of the hardened soldiers gathered at the qara'a's edge, snapped a crisp salute and ordered his mount back to the sky. He flew low along the ground, seeking a glint of steel in the moonlight. During his search he passed over the crumpled mass that was the body flung toward them when they first entered the qara'a. Amin landed and hopped down, somewhat sore about his crotch and thighs, and strode forward to examine the body.
Ali wiped the sweat from his brow and joined Lum and Amir. Ali's familiar Yakhil alighted on his shoulder and peered curiously at the group.
Wincing at Lum's battered face, Ali offered to have a look. "I've worked as a healer," he said.
Ya'qub had no sooner stood when he was almost bowled over. His sore ribs were squeezed in Sahra's embrace. She held him trembling, not saying a word.
Who understands a woman's heart?
The party stood together on the edge of the qara'a, the soldiers of the House Fajirik still not having stepped even a foot inside the forbidden grounds, when Amin returned astride his eagle. He raised Lum's jambiya in triumph, unable to restrain his boyish delight.
Before him, draped across the ribcage, a figure. Amin landed and with some effort pulled the man off. The robed figure's head flopped back with a gut-turning 'crack!'. It was Hirakur.