Fire in the Heart : The Princess and the Bandit (9781629020112) (10 page)

Karam yelled, “Mackosh, come!”

A skinny bandit ran up to Karam. “Yes, sir?” he said.

“Are the men ready?”

Mackosh replied, “Yes, sir. They are waiting on you.”

Karam slipped off his turban and exposed his dark chiseled face. His dark hair, parted down the middle, hung on either side of his powerful eyes. He wore metal armor, bands of steel wrapped around his arms and torso, allowing his skin to shine through. He grabbed his mask from the floor and slowly covered his face, showing only his eyes. He asked, “Then what are we waiting for? Let us go.”

Karam and twenty of his men left the hideout and were soon walking the dark and quiet streets of the city. He checked his two blades and led his men through the dark alleys. On the way, he came upon a beggar. The poor man, huddled in a corner, started shaking as soon as he realized who was approaching him. The man instantly begged, “Please do not hurt me. I am just a common beggar!” and covered his face with his hands.

Karam glanced at his men and then bent down. “Any luck begging today?”

His quivering voice replied, “I…I…”

Karam kicked the man’s begging cup and sent a few tiny pieces of silver flying. He picked up the coins and stuffed them in his pocket.

The beggar cried, “No! Please! That is all I have!”

Karam threw the cup square in the man’s face.

“Argh!” cried the beggar as he fell onto his side.

Karam said, “Thank you for all your hard work,” as several others chuckled.

“Please! It’s all I have!” pleaded the beggar.

Karam quickly turned away with his followers close behind.

The ruthless leader’s thoughts turned to the thrill of ransacking the weapon’s store and taking the armor and weapons that his formidable army desperately needed. His plans of soon taking over the city would finally become a reality. He would rule, as it should have always been.

Mackosh whispered, “Sir! There they are!”

Karam immediately noticed the familiar shop with two guards standing watch. He motioned in the air and everyone circled around. He whispered, “I will distract them.” They nodded and quickly disappeared into the shadows. Karam smiled under his mask. He always loved the adrenaline, the euphoria that rushed through him before a kill. He waited patiently, giving his men enough time for positioning. The prison, next to the shop, was dark and quiet. He could see the bars in the openings, down low, holding poor souls in the underground dungeon. Karam finally broke free of the shadows as he walked toward the guards.

A bold voice shouted, “Who goes there?”

Karam kept his pace.

Their spears were readied.

Karam’s steps didn’t falter as the voice again sounded out, “I said, who goes there?”

Head down, Karam replied, “Your worst nightmare.”

The two guards glanced at each other just as Karam pulled out his blades.

One more wary guard immediately charged the rebel. “Hey!” he shouted.

Just then, the horde of bandits jumped from the roof. One slammed his axe into the back of a guard’s head, killing him instantly. Another bandit thrust his dagger into the second guard’s shoulder, causing him to scream out and fall to the ground. They flooded the shop moments later.

Karam walked up to the injured guard as he writhed in pain. Holding his bloody shoulder, he mumbled, “Who are you?”

Karam pulled off his mask and grinned. “I am the new sultan!” he said.

“You’re crazy! You won’t get away with this!” the guard cried.

Karam winked. “I already have.” In one move, he stabbed the man in the chest. Blood spewed out of his mouth as he dropped dead to the ground.

Three of the bandits dragged the screaming storeowner into the street. One of the bandits shouted, “Shut up!” just as they reached the still-grinning Karam.

He pleaded, “Take whatever you want! Please don’t kill me! Please…”

Karam’s back hand crashed down, dropping him instantly to the ground.

The cowering man held his jaw. “Why are you doing this to me?” he whimpered.

Boldly, Karam exclaimed, “You sell your weapons and armor to my greatest enemy! The sultan!”

He tried to rise up. “What?” he shouted.

Karam continued, “You will not let my men buy from your store? Why?” as he lifted his sword.

“I…” stammered the owner.

“Why!” shouted Karam as he reached down with his powerful grasp and pulled the man close.

Jerking backward, he replied, “I am not allowed to sell weapons to commoners!”

“And that will be your downfall!” laughed Karam.

He tried to push back. “You can take whatever you want! It’s all yours!” shouted the owner.

“So easily persuaded when you are about to be killed,” whispered Karam.

Tears filled the man’s eyes. “Please, I beg you!” he cried.

“I hate beggars,” said Karam as he stealthfully slid his blade across the man’s throat.

Karam dropped the dead man and glanced around. “Take everything we can use! Shields! Axes, swords, bows! Take it all!” he shouted.

As the men were running back into the shop, a distant voice stopped Karam in his tracks. “You won’t get away with that.”

Karam jerked toward the sound. “Who said that?” he said as his eyes narrowed.

“I did.”

Karam spun around.

“Over here.”

Karam looked down toward the prison’s dark, barred openings. He exclaimed, “Interesting.” A few moments later, he stooped and came face to face with an older, light-haired man with a mustache. “You must be the Crusader?” said Karam.

“I am,” he said.

Karam laughed. “Aren’t you going to be executed soon?”

The crusader smiled as he replied, “That’s what they keep telling me.”

Karam stood up. “Well, mind your tongue, Crusader. It won’t be there for much longer anyways,” he said as he glanced back toward the shop.

“So you really think you will become the new sultan, huh?”

Karam stared back down at the man.

“You see, you are in quite a predicament, my friend.” He pointed at Karam. “You see. I know your name, and I know your face. I could turn you in.”

Karam boldly laughed. “You are a prisoner, a well-hated crusader to my people. What makes you think they will listen to you?” he said as his face darkened.

The crusader smirked. “Are you willing to take that chance?”

After a brief pause, he looked up at the rebel. “You see. If you help me out here and help me escape, my lips are sealed.”

Karam chuckled and rubbed his forehead. “What is your name, Crusader?”

“I am Aiken.”

“Ah, well. It was a pleasure to meet you, Aiken.” Karam kicked up a rush of sand into Aiken’s face. Aiken screamed as he fell backward. “Enjoy your execution!” said Karam as he turned away.

The sound of horse’s hooves, beating the hard surface, echoed down the street. A dark rider suddenly appeared in front of Karam.

Face to face, Karam exclaimed, “What are you doing, Zeke? You are supposed to be watching out for guards on the north side of the city!” He felt his face flush as he glared.

Zeke nodded and replied, “Yes, sir. I have urgent news!”

Karam crossed his arms. “This had better be good, Zeke.” Nervously, Karam glanced at the increased activity in front of the shop.

“You’re going to like this, Karam.”

“I’m listening.”

Zeke whispered, “It’s Elijah!”

Karam glared. “Why do you insist on following that fool?!”

With hands extended, Zeke replied, “I have confirmed what you wanted me to confirm.”

Hand on chin, Karam said, “Oh really?”

Zeke continued. “It is the princess who is with him,” he said, gleaming.

Nodding, Karam smiled, “Yes. You said you suspected it last time.”

Zeke glanced away. “Yes, sir, and you called me an idiot for suspecting it was her. I know now for a fact that it is her.”

Karam’s eyes narrowed again. “Why would the princess sneak out of her palace to see that rat thief?”

Zeke replied, “I do not know, but it is her. I saw them together again tonight. They have been meeting every night now.”

Karam paused as he rested his hand under his chin. “I’m impressed, Zeke. I want you to continue following these two lovebirds. See what happens. We may use this to our advantage.” The moon lit a sparkle in his eye.

“How so?” questioned Zeke.

Karam snickered. “I don’t know yet. Keep me informed, maybe we can surprise them the next time they decide to get together.”

After Karam watched Zeke disappear into the night, he quickly walked toward the mounting pile of weapons.

Chapter 11

N
atalia barely noticed
the splashing water from the eight elephant fountains lining the pool. Normally, she loved gazing at the water pouring from their trunks, but not today. Her mind was elsewhere, specifically in the adjacent banquet room. She had peeked in earlier and was startled by the activity. Cooks were adorning last-minute touches on their beautiful creations, servers kept adjusting the table settings, and the musicians were busy tuning their string instruments. Some of the nearly fifty guests were starting to arrive, and she could see the sultan moving towards her from down the long, marble hallway. Three cooks blocked the view of her father as they carried platters of cut meats on their shoulders. More servants followed with colorful fruits and then breads. The setting sun sent beams of golden light through the keyhole window openings high up in the far wall. The ornamental decorations sparkled from the spreading rays.

She looked down at her commoner’s clothing from the servant’s quarters. The sun’s reflection bounced off her full-length mirror, drawing attention to her hair. She reached up and pulled it in several directions, intentionally messing it up. Grinning, she adjusted it once more, satisfied. Makeup in hand, a dark line formed down her cheek, causing her to grin anew. She giggled.
This will definitely do it!
she thought. Dipping her hand into an open jar of garlic, she then slowly smeared it on her arms. “This is going to be perfect!” she muttered. Suddenly, she turned to some commotion coming from the throne room.
That must be the prince?
she thought. Then Elijah’s words ran back through her mind, “You have to be the most disgusting princess in the world.” Her grin quickly reappeared, and after one more quick glance, she stepped out into the hall.

A fast pause was all she dared to take as she entered the throne room. Her father stood next to his gold-covered throne, talking to an aged man with a red and white turban. His bushy eyebrows immediately caught her attention. She noticed Mera quietly standing beside the man, hands folded. Natalia looked at him again and shook her head as she stepped closer to the small group.

A waif of garlic drifted across her nose just as the sultan spoke, “So what gifts do you bring from your land?” he said, with a rather large grin.

After a prolonged bow, the prince said, “Ah! Allow me…” His slaves carefully lifted the lid from a large crate. “Our very own magic dancers!” Out jumped four scantily clothed women, complete with strings of bells around their bellies and foreheads. Their flowing green skirts seemed to Natalia to clash with the red silk scarves they were wildly waving. Without warning, they started jiggling their hips to the sounds of the accompanying string ensemble.

Natalia watched her father’s gleam disappear. “Hmmm,” he said. They both watched as the dancers moved through the growing crowd of guests. Natalia smiled at the ground.

When Natalia could bring her eyes again to bear, she realized that the dancers were nowhere in sync.
How embarrassing!
she thought. Suddenly, one of the them tripped and nearly sprawled across the floor. Luckily, a portly guest reached out just in time. Suppressing a laugh, she glanced at the fidgeting prince. Strands from his rope belt fell to the floor just as the music stopped and the dancers gave an abrupt bow.

Only a couple onlookers clapped.

The prince started stuttering. “Eh hem. Well. Did you like it, Your Majesty?” he asked.

Finally, Mera leaned over. “Sultan!” she whispered as she covered her grin.

The sultan quickly shook his shoulders and turned. “Well. Shall we prepare for dinner?”

Wiping beads of sweat from his brow, the prince replied, “Yes! Where is this lovely princess of yours! I have so been looking forward to gaze upon her beauty!”

Natalia turned around, directly in front of them, and waved. “I’m here!” Her eyes quickly darted to her father. She was unable to see that the entire room stood motionless, gazing. Several gasped.

Mera shouted, “Natalia!”

“What…in…the…sands…of time….are you,” exclaimed the
sultan.

Throwing her head back, she replied, “Sorry I’m late!” The crowded room suddenly gave way as she skipped around, waving her scarf. Mera’s head bounced up and down as she followed Natalia’s bouncing hair and waving arms. She quickly gasped just as Natalia slipped on her rags as they trailed behind her and fell into the portly man’s arms.

She bounced up and over to the speechless prince and asked, “Hi! I am the princess. What is your name?”

Still speechless, he finally replied, “Oh! I am Prince Bagribub.”

Natalia wrinkled her nose and said, “Oh, that is such an awful name! Did you give yourself this name?” The man’s expression almost forced an explosive laugh from deep within. His bushy eyebrows went flat.

Mera’s hands shook as she glanced at the sultan.

Suddenly, a deep, low voice interrupted. “Natalia,” blanched the sultan.

Natalia raised her voice. “Shall we eat? I am so hungry I could eat a camel! Here you can sit with me!” She grabbed Bagribub’s arm and twisted him away. As they ran to their table, Natalia started thinking,
I wonder how much Elijah would be laughing if he could see this?

The sultan glared at only one person as he slowly made his way to the head table.

Mera followed him, glancing down, biting her lip.

Natalia felt a surge of adrenaline as she thought,
They want to force me to be a princess? Then, so be it!

The sultan took his seat, still glaring.

Natalia dropped into her seat beside the sweat-drenched prince. “Oh, it is so wonderful that you came all this way to see me! I put on my very best clothes just…for…you!” she said as she leaned closer.