Prince of Knights (An Arabic Love Story)✓

Prince of Knights Chp19

 Salam, and hello guys, Enjoy this chapter.

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~You left and I cried tears of blood. My sorrow grows. Its not just that you left. But when you left my eyes went with you. Now, how will I cry?~ Rumi.

Faris sat in the tent and looked at Sultan, who as promised dueled with Faris's knights. A small smile lifted the corner of his lips at the sight, his cousin was indeed proficient. Morning light seeped in the tent from the front. Gloomy, grey clouds veiled the sky now and then as they desired to witness the clash. A fire crackled next to the tent in order to provide the sheikh and his companions warmth. Faris permitted his eyes to look around the tent, he needed to train his men, his knights were verily matchless among the tribes. However, he knew his men would fail mercilessly in front of Badr, that mere thought impelled him to make his men invincible.

"You are engrossed in thoughts, brother." Faris heard Nasser's voice.

"Indeed I am. I have pondered and acceded to train my knights vigorously." Faris replied eyes on Sultan who ducked away from the sword that came for him like a vicious serpent.

Nasser chuckled. Faris turned his head slowly to his brother and hoisted an eyebrow. "What is so amusing, brother? Make us laugh as well."

"Do not ram your sword through my chest brother, but I wondered you thought of your bride." Nasser smirked at him.

Faris clenched his fist that rested on his thigh. "You are better when your lips are sealed." he looked away from Nasser to his men who sat on the other corner of the small tent and uttered mesmerizing verses of poetry.

"Father wishes to know." Nasser's sombre voice made the knight growl in vexation.

"He wishes to know how I act towards his enemy's daughter? Or he wishes to know when will I have off-springs?" Faris's voice was calm, so dreadfully calm that Nasser swallowed.

"No, he desired to know if you are content?" Nasser spoke after a moment's silence.

Faris inhaled then stared at the silver ring he wore on his little finger. "Father is already aware of that answer, ya Nasser."

"What will you do about my sister-in-law then?" Nasser interrogated.

Faris looked up from his ring when a gale swayed around the tent in attempts to unfurl it's bitter cold in the tent. "What other choice do I posses? I am caged with her even if I wish it or not." he snapped, brows knitted.

"May Allah have mercy on you." Nasser taunted and when Faris opened his mouth to hurl a harsh reply, Nasser turned to their companions and called for their attention. "Let us join you in the poetry battle as well."

"Indeed ya Sheikh." Adel grinned, rose to his feet and sauntered up to his friend, his brother, Faris. He sat alongside Faris al Furan and propped his elbow on a pillow as others assembled around.

Faris shook his head and endeavoured to listen to the men who vocalized awe-inspiring poetry. He himself was a versifier, every men in his tribe practiced their tradition and desired to sketch their religion, their world in words. After a while laughter rang in the tent when Nasser pronounced a rather humorous quote. One of the companions left the tent only to be back with ghawa and dates.

"May poetry and God's name have mercy on us." one of the men recited and the others nodded in agreement.

"I was compelled to you not because you are the fairest, but because you are the deepest. For a lover of beauty is usually a fool." Adel quoted once he chewed on his date.