Scheherazade and the King Ch. 03

"Qadir, your eyes are meant to be gold" she frowns. "And this is my story. You do not belong here."

The man laughs, flashing her a brilliant smile: "I can tell right now that I do," he says, fixing those argent eyes on her once again.

"You will see me again," he says.

"No I won't. He will come back and the ship will leave," she says.

He leans forward and his eyes threaten to consume her: "He is not the master of your fate."

"I know that too," she says, a smile turning her lips.

"I'm not going to try and save you," he says.

"I don't need you to," she replies. "Besides, whenever a man tries to save me, I seem to end up in more trouble."

"Then you definitely don't need me to interfere," he laughs but it is a sad laugh.

She leans in closer and the clouds in his eyes clear.

"But I will see you again, and soon," he says.

His face disappears into the shadows again and the ship rocks at anchor as if he had never tread her well-worn decks.

++++++++

Scheherazade's eyes blinked open and she looked around the room dazedly. Her vision focused as the door to the room opened and Shariyar strode inside.

"Still in bed, gypsy?" He asked. "Well, I guess that is where you belong."

Scheherazade propped herself up slowly.

"If you've come to ask for more of my story, this is not the way to do it," Scheherazade said bitterly.

"Today is day two, gypsy," he said, ignoring her. "You have three more days of rest before your body is at my disposal once again."

"Do you want to hear more about Qadir and Mo or not?" She asked.

"I don't have time for fairytales today," he said. "The king of thieves will have to wait."

"I think I dreamt of Qadir last night," she murmured, more to herself than Shariyar. "He was dressed all in black and he had tattoos on his knuckles."

Shariyar's eyes narrowed: "Tattoos?"

Scheherazade looked up at him and nodded: "They said "wandering star" in Arabic."

The king suddenly went pale, his eyes scanned the room wildly: "Guards! Guards!"

"What's wrong?" She cried.

The guards rushed into the room, swords drawn.

"He was here!" Shariyar roared. "He was here in my fucking palace! In this very room!"

"Who was here?" Scheherazade asked, rising to her feet.

"Check the windows!" He cried, brushing past the girl. "Make sure none of the locks are broken."

The guards sheathed their swords and began to inspect the windows.

"Here!" One of the guards announced. He pushed open one of the windows and it opened easily, the lock hanging uselessly from the frame.

Shariyar's heart fell into his stomach. That was the window he always used to sneak out of the palace. The intruder would have climbed up those very same vines.

"Board up the windows," he commanded, his voice thick with fear. "Cut the vines outside. He must not get back in."

As the guards rushed off to act on Shariyar's commands the king suddenly shouted out for two of them to remain with him.

"The two of you must always be at my sides from now on," he said. "He must never have the opportunity to catch me alone or he will finish what he started."

"Who?" Scheherazade cried impatiently. "Shariyar, it was just a dream."

"No it wasn't!" The king snarled, rounding on the girl. "Those tattoos you describe belong to a very real man."

Shariyar began to pace the room agitatedly, his fingers trembling as he ran them through his hair.

"Fuck!" He yelled, slamming his fist into his palm. "Fuck!"

"I don't understand," Scheherazade said. "Who was here?"

"The man you described is the man who brainwashed my wife into trying to murder me," Shariyar said. "He convinced her to do it so he could steal the throne from me."

Scheherazade sat down on the edge of the bed, watching the king warily as he muttered to himself under his breath.

"He wants to kill me," he mumbled. "He won't rest till he has my head on a stake."

The king turned to Scheherazade, his eyes ablaze: "What did he do? Did he say anything to you?"

"I asked him who he was but he didn't answer," she explained. "Then I saw his tattoos. He said that he was a "lonely, wandering star" and that I was "wild waves"."

She paused, debating whether or not to tell him that Shahzaman had promised to see her again. Shariyar's wild eyes flitted across her face anxiously as he waited for her to continue.

"I don't remember anything after that," she said finally.

Shariyar groaned into his palms.

"I thought it was just a dream," she said.

"More like a nightmare," the king snarled. "That "wandering star" is my banished brother - Shahzaman."