The Rose & the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn #2) - Renee Ahdieh Page 0,98
you. Now it appears Tariq has faith in you. So I would like to follow suit. If you will leave my people in peace—and protect the lands on which we thrive—I will ride at your side.”
The caliph considered this before glancing at Tariq. “You would turn your back on your uncle?”
Tariq’s jaw clenched tight. “My uncle has lost sight of what it is I fight for. And I”—his lips caught on the words—“I am not certain I ever knew what it was I meant to fight for. But Omar speaks true; if Uncle Reza has taken Shahrzad against her will, then you are indeed the lesser of two evils.”
The caliph nodded. “I cannot rally all of my bannermen in time. But I can send word to those nearby, and—” He stopped in consideration, looking to Tariq once more. “Do you know of the Fire Temple in the mountains by the sea?”
“I am not familiar with it.”
Rahim stepped forward. “I know of it.”
Again, the caliph nodded, this time to Rahim. “Would you send a message there for me through your falcon?” He looked to Tariq.
Though puzzled, Tariq agreed to the request. “Yes. May I ask why?”
“I know someone there who might be willing to help.”
THE BURNING BANYAN TREE
SHAHRZAD LEANED AGAINST THE COLD STONE WALL. A constant trickle of murky water passed by her slippered foot. The heavy chains around her wrists and ankles clinked with the smallest of movements.
She did not know how much time had passed.
Days perhaps.
It was impossible to tell, as not even a sliver of light seeped into the space.
The water in the filthy cup left by the grate was brackish. Even the smell of it turned her stomach. The bread beside it was stale and dry. She ate only enough to conserve her strength.
Her father had come to visit her twice. To beg her to apologize.
To see reason. To work alongside the sultan to achieve a lasting peace.
To surrender.
Both times, Shahrzad had turned her back on him. Had willed herself smaller, wishing she could disappear for just a moment, so she would not have to face him.
So she would not have to admit how he’d betrayed all she held dear.
Shahrzad knew she had betrayed her father by stealing his book, but a book was not the same thing as a life. Not the same thing as a future.
And with this book her father had taken so many lives that night in Rey. So many futures.
Now Shahrzad remained in near darkness. The single torch two cells over rarely wavered light in her direction.
At first, the guards had come to check on her regularly. To toy with her. To threaten her. To hurl intimations of unforgivable acts her way.
They’d pushed her. Shoved her face into the muck. Twisted her arms behind her back. Called her worse names than Shahrzad had heard screamed at wild animals.
She had believed their threats at first. Had steeled herself for their mistreatment. Had waited in the soggy gloom, shivering and alert . . . promising she would not cry.
Would not dare give them the satisfaction.
But beyond the first guard’s cutting of her hair and the occasional crush of her cheek against muck, they did not press further. They did not inflict lasting harm on her.
Something stayed their hands.
Shahrzad was not fool enough to think it was respect. No, with men such as these, it was never respect.
Something was not right beyond these walls. And it was clear the guards were afraid of that something.
These thoughts gave her a measure of comfort. For once, they made her see the benefits of an unfavorable reputation.
A reputation forged in blood and fury.
Let them fear what is to come. Let them know what it is to cower in the darkness, uncertain of their future.
Let them be afraid of Khorasan and its king.
For Khalid would tear them limb from limb once he breached the city walls.
Once he learned Shahrzad was here.
And when would that be?
Again she was left to think about the perils of wanting too much. But little was served from wanting what she could not control. The past few weeks had taught her that.
Shahrzad swallowed drily as she pulled her knees in to her chest. Each passing hour took with it more of her resolve, and she could not allow her will to fade along with her strength. Refused to allow it.
She was a tree being lashed about in a storm. She would not break.
Never.
She had to find Irsa. And get far away from this palace.