Kismet Ch. 09

All their hatred and frustration at their treatment by General Risay was unleashed on the panicked men as they attempted to defend themselves from the murderous she-demons in their midst. Those who fought back died where they stood either crushed beneath flailing hooves or sliced by flashing scimitars. Unnerved, the survivors broke and ran shrieking in fear and pain.

Panting from their exertions and bleeding from several minor wounds, the women reined in their mounts among a litter of corpses and weapons and waited for a man wearing a black turban to approach them.

"Are ... are you of this world?" the man said, hesitantly. "Am I in the presence of Djinni sent to collect our souls?"

Afsoon and Farisa broke into laughter, relieving the tension.

"We are mortals as you are," Afsoon said, smiling. "My companion and I saw you were outnumbered and decided to help. You are of the Black Legion, are you not?"

"You are correct. I am Tesserarius Eques Hamid al-Assad of his magnificence the Sultan's Black Legion. We were on patrol searching for bandits who waylaid a caravan not two leagues from here when we ourselves were ambushed. You two saved our lives."

"I am called Farisa and this is my companion Afsoon. We are seeking a settlement where we may refresh ourselves and rest. Can you lead us to one?"

"Most certainly, it is the least we can do after what you have done for us."

As they conversed, three of Hamid's legionnaires rode up, staring in awe at two nude women armed with scimitars and riding pure blooded Arabian horses talking with their commander. They shifted nervously in their saddles and began muttering among themselves, convinced their rescuers were of the supernatural.

"You must excuse my men," Hamid said apologetically. "They are of low birth and quite superstitious. They think you are from the netherworld."

"I doubt if creatures of the underworld bleed," Afsoon said with a grin. "Would you happen to have bandages and poultices with you? We should tend to our wounds before we travel any further."

"Of course," he replied. "Ah ... do you wear clothing? The men seem to be upset by that as well."

"I suppose we must wear those stifling robes again," Farisa said in mock irritation. "I do so enjoy the sun and wind on my skin. It reminds me of home."

"I also prefer the freedom of no garments," Afsoon added, "But if it disturbs your men we shall wear our robes."

After treating and binding their wounds, Afsoon and Farisa shrugged into their robes and were preparing to mount their horses, when a legionnaire rode up from the direction of the battle, dropped a bloody reed basket at Hamid's feet and saluted.

"We found the bandit leader, sir. He was dead. I have brought you proof."

Hamid crouched and upended the basket. A severed head rolled out staring at him with sightless eyes, a look of shock on it's bearded face. A severed hand and forearm had fallen next to the head; blood seeping from both forming a crust on the hot sand.

Hamid lifted the severed limb by a finger, noting the tattoo of a black rose on the wrist.

"Good work, Baasim. Place them in a pouch. The Sultan will be very interested in these things.

At the sight of the grisly trophies, Afsoon turned pale, then shuddered.

"Are you alright?" Farisa said, putting her arm around her lover's waist.

"Yes," Afsoon sad shakily. "I don't think I shall ever become fully accustomed to such sights."

They mounted their horses as the remaining legionnaires rode in and assembled in formation, Hamid in the lead. Then they set off, the women flanked by two outriders.

"He intends to bring those body parts to the Sultan," Farisa said in a low voice. "Should you tell Hamid he is your father?"

"I think it best we retain our anonymity for the moment," Afsoon replied. "There are many intrigues in the palace and the general's spies are everywhere. My mother once told me Risay covets the throne, but fears the Black Legion that is fiercely loyal to my father. Once we reach the town we will determine what we should do next."

Behind them, the vultures that had been circling the battlefield began swooping down to gorge themselves upon the pile of corpses.

End.