Scheherazade and the King Ch. 09

Jafar followed the prince's orders slowly. Shahzaman dropped the sword for an instant and pulled Jafar against him, pressing the blade against his throat.

"Ask me again, brother," he said, his eyes glinting over Jafar's shoulder.

"Don't hurt him."

"Why not? Didn't you threaten to kill him yourself?"

"How do you know that?"

"Didn't you threaten to hang him if he didn't bring you another girl to murder?"

"Who told you that?"

Shahzaman pressed himself against Jafar's back. The vizier could feel his breath hot against the back of his neck.

"My lover told me."

"Who is she?" Shariyar snarled. "I swear to god if I have to kill every maid in this palace to get to her, I will!"

The prince shrugged and pushed himself against Jafar harder. The vizier had to steel himself from smiling.

"Tell him, Shahzaman," he whispered.

"I'll tell him when I'm good and ready," he murmured in the vizier's ear.

He glanced over the vizier's shoulder at his brother, his eyes wicked: "Or, maybe, he will figure it out for himself."

Shariyar's dark brows knitted together: "I don't understand. What's going on?"

Shahzaman smiled and sheathed his sword, spinning Jafar around with a hand around his waist. He held the vizier's hands in his and ran his thumbs gently over his knuckles before planting a kiss on the back of each hand.

Shariyar's mouth fell open.

It was a few moments before he could form a response but, when he did, his first emotion was anger.

"Jafar, you son of a bitch! You were spying for him?"

Shahzaman pushed in front of Jafar. His sword struck again, this time leaving another great slash across Shariyar's chest: "Don't you dare speak to him that way! Do you have any idea what he has sacrificed for you?"

The king cried out and pressed his bound hands to the stinging wound. He snarled at them both like a wild animal, his eyes fierce and his lips trembling with anger.

"How long have you been plotting against me you traitorous bastard?"

Shahzaman smiled grimly as he swiped the razor-sharp edge of his blade along Shariyar's leg: "I warned you not to speak to him like that."

"I will speak to him however I damn well please!" Shariyar gasped.

A fresh wound appeared across his forearm and Shariyar roared. Shahzaman pressed the tip of his sword against Shariyar's throat: "No you will not. You will speak when I allow you to. And, for now, you will shut up and listen."

Jafar stepped forward, gently pushing Shahzaman's sword away. His green eyes were defiant as he knelt down in front of the king.

"Everything we did was protect you from yourself, Shariyar."

"Fuck you," the king spat. "I swear to god I will kill you both."

"I have never betrayed you. I would have gone with Shahzaman if he hadn't begged me to stay with you and keep watch over you. He is the only reason your grief and anger haven't cost you your kingdom."

"I should have killed you when I had the chance! Before you brought that wretched girl back from —"

Jafar jumped to his feet as Shahzaman slashed at his brother again, his sword slicing across the king's right bicep.

"Fuck!" Shariyar cried out. "Fuck!"

He rocked back and forth, staring at the blood blossoming across his arm.

"Fuck, I —" He growled. "I'm sorry. I — I'm sorry."

"You fucking should be!" Shahzaman hissed. "After everything we have done for you!"

"Shariyar, listen to me," Jafar said, interrupting him to kneel in front of the king again. "Those women you sent to die? Shahzaman saved every single one of them. They are safe. That is the only reason their relatives didn't band together to topple you from your throne."

Shariyar's amber eyes widened: "What?"

Shahzaman tapped Jafar's shoulder and helped him to his feet.

He glanced at his brother and pulled Jafar tightly against him: "Now you see why I couldn't tell you who my lover was."

"Why?" He asked, when he was finally able to summon words to his mouth. "Why would either of you seek to save me, after all I have done to you?"

"Because I remember the man you used to me, and I want my brother back," Shahzaman said. "I used to be every bit the man you are now but I changed. And, if I can change, so can you."

Hot tears appeared in Shariyar's eyes: "You do seem changed."

"I am," Shahzaman murmured in agreement, running a finger along Jafar's jaw. "I hated myself for a long time because I could not understand the things I felt. It was easier to be numb, easier to keep everyone at a distance."

"I know the feeling well," the king whispered.

"Then you know what you have to do to fix this and, since you can't change what was done to me, you need to do whatever it takes to right your wrongs against Yanamari. No matter the cost."

Shariyar nodded and then murmured: "I'm so sorry."

"I know," Shahzaman said. "But there is no time for apologies now. You must send a falcon to Gades to try to head the ship off before it leaves the mainland. Order them to turn back. I have a man on his way to Side intercept the Raja there and ensure Yanamari's safety during the voyage until we can meet them at Gades."

"Who did you send?" Jafar interjected.

"Cas volunteered."

"Of course he did," the vizier chuckled.

"So what is the plan, exactly?" Shariyar asked impatiently, wincing as he wiped the blood from his cheek with his shoulder.

"The falcon should arrive in time to intercept the ship at Gades but, if it doesn't, Cas is under instructions to do whatever it takes to get that girl off the ship before she ends up in Ekaitz's clutches."

"Then we should leave now," Shariyar said, scrambling to his feet. "There is not a moment to lose!"

"I, too, am impatient but we cannot leave yet," Shahzaman said, holding up his hand to stop his brother in his tracks, "You have to organise supplies for this mission and you might want to see Hazim about those scratches..."

"Yes, yes, of course," Shariyar mumbled. He held up his wrists to Jafar: "Can you untie me now?"

The vizier glanced at Shahzaman and, at the prince's nod, loosened his belt from around the king's hands.

Shariyar strode towards the door but, when he heard no movement behind him, turned around: "Well, aren't you two coming?"

"I'm afraid we have something very important to do first," Shahzaman said, pulling Jafar into a deep kiss by the back of his neck.

++++++++

Cas slipped into the galley quietly to gather some hardtack and salted fish that wouldn't be missed before disappearing back into the bowels of the ship. When he opened the hatch again, the girl did not even stir. He jumped down the last flight of steps and rushed across the deck, banging his fists against the metal bars.

"Scheherazade! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!"

"Shhh — don't interrupt my dreams. They are all I have," she sighed, her eyes still closed.

He breathed a sigh of relief and knelt down.

"Come, eat. You're starved."

The girl grudgingly opened her eyes and stared scornfully at the bundle of pilfered food that the soldier held out to her.

"You better be telling me something true and worthwhile," she grumbled. "Because if you've tricked me just so I'll survive long enough for them to hang me —"

"I have no intention of letting anyone hang you," Cas said. "Now, please, you need to eat."

She sighed and roused her weary limbs, slowly making her way across the cell. She whispered a quiet "thank you" as she took the food from him. Cas shook his head incredulously — her will to live had been dampened but apparently she still had manners.

"Mind you, go slowly."

Scheherazade returned to her seat and took a sip from the flask. Her mouth ached at how sweet the water tasted after so much time without.

Cas watched as she drank the water, admiring her discipline and restraint. He had given that same order to many a hungry, thirsty soldier and precious few had heeded him.

She noticed his dark eyes fixed on her and nodded at him: "You promised me a story."

"That I did," he said with a soft smile.

"As I said before, the wanted notice Shariyar received does not tell the whole story. A few weeks ago, myself, Shahzaman and the rest of our band of exiles encountered a group of Irlazken bounty hunters in the desert. They were each carrying a copy of that same wanted notice. They had been sent by King Ekaitz himself to track the girl down. The notice emphasised that the girl was to be taken alive but, apparently, Ekaitz told his mercenaries that he didn't care what state she was in, so long as she was found."

The girl nodded, chewing slowly.

"A long time ago, Shariyar was engaged to a young princess but the betrothal was cancelled."

"He fell in love with Nasrin."

"No, this was long before he met her," Cas said. "He was just a young man at the time and he only heard of the betrothal by chance. When nothing ever came of it, he forgot about it. The betrothal was to the youngest princess of Irlazken, a young woman named Yanamari."

Scheherazade felt her stomach churn at the mention of the name and, even though she said nothing, Cas raised a dark brow in her direction.

"Do you recognise that name?"

"Should I?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She was kidnapped by Zigor and held for ransom. The amount he demanded would have crippled the Irlazken kingdom. But King Mikolas would have paid every cent of it."

"Mikolas?" She whispered breathlessly, sitting up straighter.

The pirate's cruel taunt echoed in her mind: Do you think Mikolas would want you back now?

"The late king," he explained. "He would have paid it but for a letter he received from his daughter. When Zigor demanded she write to her father and beg him to give in to the pirate's demands, Yanamari enclosed a secret message and told him not to. She sacrificed herself for the good of her people."

"I don't understand."

"The King came up with a ruse to ensure that Zigor's plan would fail — he denounced his own daughter as a traitor."

"Then... the woman on the poster..."

"Is Yanamari, the lost princess of Irlazken."

Scheherazade suddenly felt as if the bars of her cell were closing in on her.

Cas watched as the girl's eyes grew wide and her chest began to rise and fall quickly. She clapped a hand over her mouth and her whole body swayed.

"Breathe, Scheherazade, just breathe," Cas said firmly. "In, now — two, three — out. In — two, three — out..."

Slowly the girl's breathing returned to normal and she unclenched her fingers but her sapphire eyes were still wild.

"I — I just can't believe it," she whispered.

"Is any of this familiar to you at all?"

"The name Mikolas," she admitted. "I remembered his name but not who he was. The pirate... he said that Mikolas would never want me back after all that he had done to me."

She said the words quickly and without emotion, anxious to rid her tongue of them.

"That's not true. Your father's last command was that his men never stop searching for you."

"My father," she murmured. "Do you truly believe that I could be her?"

"You said yourself: without a doubt, you are the woman from that wanted notice," Cas said. "And that woman is a princess."

Scheherazade still looked on the verge of fainting but she swallowed and pulled her spine straighter.

"But her father — my father — is dead?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Does she, I mean, do I have any more family?

The soldier shook his head sadly: "Your mother died shortly after giving birth to you and your sister has also since passed."

"Then Shariyar was right when he said there would be no one to mourn me or miss me," she said with a bitter sigh. "I finally know where I am from, who I am, and there is no one there waiting for me."

"Unfortunately, that is not quite true," Cas said gravely.

She glanced at him quizzically before her eyes narrowed: "The king..."

Cas nodded: "Ekaitz. He was a soldier in your father's navy and he moved through the ranks quickly. Probably by bribing or blackmailing his superiors. Eventually he attained a high enough rank to be included in royal functions. I assume that is how he met your sister. It did not take long for him to marry her. It took less time for her to wind up dead."

"He killed her?"

"And your father too, if the rumours are true."

Scheherazade felt a chill run down her spine but she could not grieve, she was in disbelief. She still could not grasp the fact that the young woman at the centre of this story was her.

Slowly the pieces were coming together in her mind: "He was the one who wrote to Shariyar with the notice..."

"Conveniently omitting the truth, apparently."

"Then I am being sent to die."

"You are. But not because you are a traitor — because you are the rightful heir to that throne and you are a threat."

"Look at me, I not much of a threat."

Cas was about to speak when, suddenly, he paused and his eyes flashed to the trapdoor at the top of the stairs. He glanced at Scheherazade but she had heard the noise as well and was already backing away from the bars of the cell. She pushed the last bites of food into her mouth and swallowed hard. Cas held a finger to his lips and then slipped into the shadows.

"Are you sleeping, whore? Wake up. Wake the fuck up."

Scheherazade shuddered at the sound of the sailor's voice and watched as his boots came slowly down the staircase. At first she wondered if the sailor was trying to be ominous but, when his heel missed a step and he staggered downwards, she realised it was because he was drunk. He landed hard on the deck and growled angrily, splashing the water with his fist as if it were to blame for his fall. He grabbed onto the bars of the cell to pull himself to his feet and leered at her with bloodshot eyes.

"C'mere, you fucking whore," he muttered. "Come on."

She stared back at him, silent and unmoving.

He snarled and began fumbling in his pocket for the key to the cell.

Cas heard the jingle of metal and stepped forward from his hiding spot. He moved through the water silently until he was behind the sailor and then said: "What are you doing?"

The sailor spun around with a startled cry and then, seeing Cas' uniform, sneered and spat into the water.

"The fuck does it look like? You can have her when I'm done."

Cas' hand was around his throat before he even had the chance to turn around.

The sailor dropped the set of keys and tried to pry Cas' fingers from his neck. With a mixture of relief and fear, Scheherazade suddenly realised how much stronger and bigger Cas was than the sailor. Even if he were sober, it would hardly have been a fair fight. Cas barely seemed to need any effort to send the sailors head into the metal bars with a hollow thud. The soldier could not cry out but he let a strangled gasp for air. Cas slammed the back of his head into the bars again. And again. And again. Until, finally, he let go and the sailor crumbled to the ground, his nose just above the water.

"You might not want to see this," Cas said grimly.

Scheherazade looked up at him but his words came through as mere echoes. Before she had a chance to avert her eyes, Cas picked up his foot and brought it down on the man's neck, the crack of his larynx muffled mercifully by the splash of water.

Scheherazade sat down heavily on the wooden crate and watched as Cas kicked the man's body to the side and fished the keys out of the water. He tossed them briefly in the air and caught them in his fist, his lips curving in a dour smile.

"Well, at least that bastard was good for something. Now we don't have to go hunting for a way to get you out of this cell."

Scheherazade's wide eyes were still fixed on the corpse.

Cas moved to block her gaze and knelt down to meet her eyes: "I'm sorry, my lady, but it had to be done."

"I know," she whispered. Then, after a pause: "I cannot say that he did not deserve it."

She winced as the ink on her arms smarted sharply.

His eyes filled with concern: "What's wrong, are you hurt?"

"No. It was a warning. These tattoos... I cannot hate him for what he did. I can't hate any of them."

"I don't understand."

"The spell that saved my life came with a cost. How am I supposed to fight? How? When I cannot even be angry at the men who did these things to me? These fucking tattoos won't let me!"

As soon as the angry words left her lips, the girl fell backwards into the water, convulsing from the pain that suddenly radiated from her tattoos. Not even the frigid, fetid water could cool the burning ink.

Cas watched in horror as the spell took its toll on her. He tried to reach for her through the bars but he could not touch her. After what seemed like an eternity the tremors gradually ceased and she pulled herself to her knees and crawled towards the soldier.

She leaned her body against the cell, resting her arms on the bars and looking up at him sadly from between them.

"I have been used mercilessly as a tool for revenge since I can remember and, apparently, even before that. And I cannot be angry about it. I am forced to always see the good in people, even the monsters who stole my life from me. I cannot hate the pirate. I cannot hate Shariyar. I cannot hate Ekaitz."

Cas sighed and hung his head.

"There are people who need anger and hate to fight. They cannot find it in their hearts to kill unless they rid themselves of those most basic human instincts — love, compassion, mercy," he said quietly. "We are different."

"We?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "I do not fight so that I can kill or conquer. I fight to protect what I love."

He could see the scepticism in her eyes.

"I have never fought a battle I did not believe in and I would rather die than do so. I fight because I love my country and my kinsmen. You have to fight for your life, not out of hate for those who have done you wrong, but out of love for yourself. You are worth fighting for, my lady."

"Do you really believe that?" She asked. "Do you really think that I have value, even after all that has been done to me?"

"I am but a simple soldier," he replied, his lips curving into his characteristic broad smile once again. "But even I know that gold does not lose its value simply because it has been melted down."

"That is true."

"And even if you still don't believe that you are worth fighting for, then surely you can agree that your country and your people are worth fighting for. Surely you know that, or you would not have traded your life to Zigor in the first place."

"True again," she whispered.

"And here is one more truth — we have to get you off this boat before it reaches Irlazken."

"Will Shahzaman succeed?" She asked. "Do you think he will get through to Shariyar?"

"I hope so," he sighed.

"But," he continued, "if this cretin returned to the ship then the others may not be far on his heels and I need to get rid of him."

Scheherazade watched him heave the lifeless corpse over his shoulder without so much as a grunt.

He made to ascend the stairs and then paused. He steadied his balance and then reached into his pocket with one hand and pulled out the keys. He motioned for her to catch them and then tossed them through the bars.

Scheherazade caught them lightly in her fist.

"I'll be back when I can," Cas said as he climbed the stairs.

"Thank you, Cas," she murmured. "For the food, the water... everything."

"I am but a simple soldier," he said again. "But even I can recognise a heart of gold when I see one."

"You do not seem like a simple soldier to me," she said.

It was funny... His wolfish teeth did not seem the least bit threatening when he bared them in a broad grin.

"So, what can I call you?" He asked.

Her brow furrowed again.

"I can't recall ever being anyone other than Scheherazade," she said.