The Battered Lamp Ch. 27

He had gambled all and failed.

But being unbound freed him. He was no longer shackled by the chains of custom and duty that had once held him firm and strong. He could do what he wanted, go where whim took him, and indulge whichever vices he pleased.

And with the reward Rashid promised, he could indulge in vices for the next thousand years.

"Do you think your plan will work?" Aljihm asked, fire glowing through the cracks of his blackened body.

Khiana smiled at the Unbound Ifrit. "Aalizunah and Jowdah have already been felled by this mortal and his women. Kyle must have seen through Aalizunah's whorish act and Jowdah was always too stupid to try anything subtle."

"But will the Jann obey you?" Aljihm asked.

"Of course they will," Khiana grinned. "They are a cowed people. Rashid stamped all the fight out of them. They don't even care for the city anymore." He spat in disgust. "Only Sihab provides them with any backbone."

The pair reached the west wall of the palace, and Khiana opened up the hidden door. A narrow tunnel appeared, barely wide for a man to walk down. Khiana strode down it, the Ifrit following. The rough-carved stone led to the far end of the palace, to the quarters of the Sheikh and his harem. It ended at a simple wall that parted when Khiana touched it.

The wall still recognized who Khiana had once been.

Sihab slept with his favorite concubine, Maymunah. She was pretty, her breasts small and naked. Khiana's cock stirred at the sight of her innocence. He crossed the room, climbing onto the Sihab's bed, the mattress shifting beneath his weight. Khiana kicked the sleeping Sihab's foot.

"What?" the young Jann murmured as he came awake. He looked up, horror in his eyes. "You!"

"Hello, my loving son," Khiana grinned. Then his hand shot out, punching through Sihab's chest and squeezing his heart. Sihab gasped and groaned, his body spasming. The concubine awoke, her shriek cut off by Aljihm's black hand. Maymunah's skin crisped as the Ifrit reduced her perfect flesh to ash.

What a waste.

"Please, father," gasped Sihab. "Aaliyah's...here....with....him... The...Marid...can...be...defeated..."

"I no longer care about that." Khiana's hand squeezed, crushing his son's heart to dust. It was time to regain his Sheikhdom. It would only cost him the life of one, sniveling, rebellious daughter.

What was one more dead child?

To be continued...