Written In The Scars

Chapter 23

Husaam had been careless. Of course, the Master would be watching him. No doubt he had his men situated all over the city, after all, this was the country of his origin.

Following the instructions on the map they had sent him along with his ride, Husaam galloped to the outskirts of the city atop a brown stallion, a Keffiyah masking his nose and mouth. He was heading west to his destination, where they were to meet. It wasn't long until the gates came in view and so Husaam steadied the horse to a trot and dismounted, slowly approaching the guarded entrance.

"Who dares to trespass the Royal Cemetry?" stated one of the guards.

Just as Husaam reached for his scabbard, a familiar voice interrupted them.

"He is with me, let him through,"

"Yes, your highness," The two guards backed off and bowed to the man who spoke. Husaam pulled the horse with him as he strode forward.

"I see you liked my gift,"

Husaam scoffed, as one of the guards took the reigns, before following the Master into the cemetery. An entourage of men, watched him carefully from a distance away, ready to pounce on him if he did anything stupid.

"You couldn't have chosen a better place to meet," Husaam countered.

"You should know me by now, I have my reasons for calling you here. Besides not anyone can just enter this place, it is restricted to the Royal members only,"

"Of course, you came to gloat about your privileges, though I should have expected that from you,"

The Master stopped in his steps and broke out into a cackle, bending his back in laughter before he turned to face him with a rigid expression.

"Your dry sarcasm humours me intensely,"

Husaam frowned. It was moments like this he was convinced the Master was insane, more so than him. He wondered if, one day, he too would become as deranged as him.

"I apologise for my bluntness," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"Follow me,"

Husaam did as instructed, keeping his lips sealed until they stopped by a large tree. Under its shade stood a single tombstone, though from where he stood, he was unable to read the letters scrawled etched into it.

"It has come to my attention that you have been a little preoccupied,"

Husaam stiffened. He really was being tailed. That meant the Master knew about-

"No need to fear, I won't touch the girl, though I am curious about your relationship with her," the Master smiled slyly. "However, I won't be nosy,"

"I was going to deal with the Prince soon," Husaam growled. "Did you bring what I asked for?"

The Master nodded, unveiling a piece of folded parchment from his breast pocket. Husaam was about to take it from his hands before he snatched it back. "I asked to meet here because I wanted you to meet your brother,"

"What do you-" Husaam's eyes flickered to the tombstone and he stormed forward, the letters merging before him. He sharply inhaled and felt his legs buckle beneath him. His mouth became dry as he was unable to form a single word in response.

At first, a wave of raw emotion came over him, the few memories he had with his brother replaying so clearly. A layer of moisture formed over his eyes before his anger flared and burnt away the tears. Husaam clenched his fists until his knuckles became a ghostly colour. Junayd's toothy grin replayed over and over in his mind, fuelling the raging bonfire in his heart. Consumed by pure anger, he raised his fist and punched the dusty ground beside him, ignoring the stinging pain it brought him.

A hand gripped his shoulder, patting it. "You mustn't forget what you came here for. You must make up for the failure that caused your brother's death,"

"You're right," Husaam said as he rose to his feet. "I've wasted too much time and allowed that prince to live too comfortably,"

"I'm glad that you have your head screwed on again," The Master hit his back. "Though, I am intrigued to know why you require this information?"

"There is something I must do first," Husaam mumbled.

"As long as you do what is needed of you," the man beckoned, finally handing him the papers.

"Tell me, why you have asked me to only go for the second Prince when I could easily go after the King or the Crown Prince? That way, you could easily obtain the throne," Husaam stated, aware that he was edging dangerously close.

The man stopped and turned to him with every smile. "It wouldn't be fun if we played that easy, besides, I only want you to be concerned with your revenge, not mine. What I have planned for the other two is none of your concern,"

"But wouldn't it be harder if I killed the Prince? They will heighten their security and be wary of more attacks,"

"A curious one aren't you," The Master walked to Husaam side, gripping his shoulder hard again. "You should have a little more trust in my plans, but if you insist. Your revenge scheme will serve as a warning to the King. I expect them to be warier. And just when they think they're safe, I will pull the rug out from under their feet,"

Husaam met the vengeful glare of the Man he swore his loyalty to. Their lust for blood was the only thing they shared in common. However, there was something about him that made Husaam fear him. He was sure that this man had spilt more blood than the number of wrinkles on his face. And not to mention his immense power and influential status, something Husaam didn't have nor was he born into.

"Tell me, why the old man? I quite frankly liked him," the Master asked, whilst mounting his horse.

"Revenge,"

The Master chuckled darkly. "Revenge is such a beautiful thing, isn't it?"

Husaam kept silent, as he too mounted his own ride.

"If you disappoint me again, don't bother coming back, for your life is as good as worthless to me,"

"I won't disappoint you again," Husaam replied, bowing his head ever so slightly.

Faris Ibn Al Khalifa smiled before he guided his stallion towards the dusty path back to the city. "Good luck," he muttered, before galloping off, his entourage following right behind.

Once their figures melted into the dusty horizon, Husaam readied himself to depart but turned one last time in the direction of Junayd's grave.

"Rest in peace, brother. I will finish off what you failed to do and have your death avenged,"

Glossary:

Keffiyeh - a large square cloth that Arab men wear over their head. In this case, Husaam is not wearing it the traditional way and instead has it wrapped around his face to conceal his identity.