Forbearance

by Brianna M. Hoyle

Chapter 5

When I stepped out onto the street, I immediately knew the raiders from the citizens. They wore all black and wielded blades of many shapes, some long and thin, others curved and wide. They rode horses, each one purebred and fast, able to dodge around the people and carts and animals in the streets. They fell upon easy victims, they snatched whatever they could grab that looked valuable, then rode out of the city with their prizes, allowing those behind them to do the same. They killed for sport it seemed as I watched a man who held nothing be cut down simply because he stood in the way.

My blood boiled at the loss of an innocent life. The rest had boded well for me. My hand tightened around my saber, this weapon I knew well. Without wasting a moment of time, I intercepted a raider who held his sword menacingly above a man trying to protect his family. I brought my saber up and blocked the raider’s strike, knocking his sword away and cleanly stabbing him through. His choked off cry disappeared amongst the screams of the people in the city. I turned to the vendor and his family.

“Get somewhere safe!” I ordered, and immediately they scrambled away. I continued to fight, targeting those dressed in black and rescuing all those in distress. I knew how to move, each act seeming to fuel the very next as though this was some preconceived dance. I believed that prior to my abandonment in the desert I had done this before. I knew how to fight, yet I do not know who trained me. The way my saber fit into my hands, the movements I made, the sensation of my sash spinning around me as I fought, it all felt familiar. I must have been a warrior.

I came upon Hakim, who was holding a saber similar to mine, but smaller. He handled himself well, ducking beneath a raider who swung at him from the saddle. He did not see me as I passed him, his eyes focused on the fight on his hands.

As I tried to keep any raiders from getting to the house of the man whom I stayed with, I saw from my position a young man fighting off one of those dressed in black. The young man held a long narrow sword and he fought well, being light on his feet and quick to react. Had things continued on as they were, he would have proven victorious. But another raider chose to join the fight and began to overwhelm the young man. I finished off the raider before me, removing his head with one clean sweep, and pushed him aside to come to the young man’s aid. Just before I reached him, his saber was thrown from his hands, leaving him defenseless against two enemies.

I quickly switched directions and came up behind them. With as many people as were running about me, they would not know someone was approaching them. I jumped off of a small cart and kicked one raider in the back, hearing a satisfying crack when my foot came in contact with his spine. I landed on him, pinning him to the cobblestone, and turned to face the second man with the tip of my saber.

He charged me and we engaged. He was skilled with his blade, but he was arrogant and not at all thorough in his attacks. I overpowered him with barely an effort put forth, slicing a neat cut into his lower abdomen. As he was falling, I glanced over to be certain the man I had come to rescue was safe, only to find him nearly being suffocated by a third raider. I growled under my breath and ran towards them. Seeing me coming to intercept, the raider released his hold on the man and faced me, pulling a knife from his side and pointing it in my direction. I did not waste any breath, moving swiftly and efficiently. I killed him in less time than the man before him. When he hit the ground I looked up to see that the raid was nearly over. The military had filed into the town and chased the raiders who survived the attack back out to the desert. I knew they were military by the medals pinned to their cloaks and the fancy swords which hung on their sides.

The screaming had died down and the citizens were beginning to recover. I turned to face the young man whom I had helped, seeing him on his back, propped up on his elbows, breathing heavily and trying to regain his breath from nearly being choked to death. He looked up at me, eyes wide and still bordering with the fear of nearly dying. His expression was full of gratitude and I moved to offer him a hand in standing back to his feet.

“Amirzade Nadir!”

I was pushed aside as quite suddenly the young man was surrounded by the members of the military, all of whom blocked my view of him as they asked if he was well and if he had any injuries. I wanted to stay and see for myself if he was well, but it did not appear as though I would be allowed near him, so I took my leave of the place, heading back to where I knew Jalil’s house to be. I took this moment to breathe and rest from the fight, looking down at my bloodstained blade. I found it odd that I did not feel tired. If anything, the fight had been invigorating. It fueled me.

“There you are!” Hakim was suddenly upon me as the military police had been upon the young man, holding my arms and looking me over in search of injuries. “Are you well, child?”

“Yes, yes, Hakim,” I told him. “I have handled myself. Nearly as well as you.” I added the last sentence in jest, not wanting him to worry. He was so much like a father, I could not help but feel a fondness for him through his worry.

He shook his head. “Children are all the same. They believe themselves invincible.” But I could see the relief in his eyes as he smiled up at me. “I was not the only one who worried about you,” he told me.

I heard a soft knicker to my left, and Darioush was at my side, nudging me and looking me over as Hakim had done. “Between the two of you!” I said, giving my dear horse a warm embrace. He must have somehow escaped his stall when the raid started. He had sensed a fight and desired to be in the middle of it. We were both bred for the same thing. We longed to be where the danger was, longed to protect. Darioush was a worrier, I knew.

See what you get into when I leave you alone?

“Don’t nag,” I told him.

Hakim laughed. The sound was natural and I felt I could become accustomed to hearing it. “Come,” he said. “We shall see what despair has befallen Jalil in terms of what property he has lost. Perhaps that deplorable vase was destroyed in the raid.”

“Do these raids happen often?” I asked as I once again found myself following after Hakim, leading Darioush.

“Often? Perhaps not. Are they part of life? Yes. There will always be people in the world who want what someone else has, and will get what they desire by any means necessary.” He looked around at those who were comforting one another or tending to the wounded. The city was moving and bustling once again, but this time with a heavier atmosphere settling upon all those gathered. I looked to Hakim and saw how he looked forlorn at not being able to do anything for those around him, yet he pressed on anyhow, not allowing what he could not fix to affect his direction.

“I sense you have more wisdom than your age should allow, Hakim,” I told him as I walked with Darioush.

He smiled and looked to the sky. “Perhaps. Or perhaps my soul is simply older than I am.”

“Hakim! Hakim, it’s terrible!” It was Jalil. He came running out of his house, arms waving and headpiece crooked. “They raided my house, Hakim! My house! The rugs are filthy, the plates are smashed! It is terrible!”

“Was anyone hurt?” Hakim asked.

“What? Oh, no, no, we’re not hurt. But my house is in disarray! My house, Hakim!” Jalil wailed for a time longer, then turned around to wail to his servants who were carrying broken pieces of what looked to be a set of dishes.

Hakim looked at me and gave a small smile. “With the way he carries on about dishes, heaven help us should his own beautiful visage get a scratch.”

I chuckled at Hakim’s statement. “He is a character. I shall put Darioush to rest and assist in cleaning,” I told him.

“I shall be in here consoling Jalil after his dreadful loss.”

I moved toward the stable, speaking calm words to my horse and telling him of how I felt so comfortable in the midst of the battle. As we walked, I saw the familiar pink of Aminah’s headdress and I moved towards her. She was coming from the stable and headed for the house.

“Aminah!” I ran to her. “Are you well?”

She seemed relieved to see me. “Oh, yes, I am fine! I was worried about you, for I did not see you when I returned to the house! I thought perhaps you had gone to comfort your horse, yet he was not there either!”

“Forgive me for worrying you,” I said, inclining my head in a bow. I did not like seeing her blue eyes so clouded with concern as they were. “We were in the midst of the fray.”

She let out a sigh and rested her hand on my arm. “I should have known. You are a warrior. Your place is the battlefield. It was silly for me to worry, as you handled yourself well.” She smiled at me, transforming her brown face into something lovely. “Excuse me while I go see how my brother fares knowing his favorite rug has been trampled.” And with that she moved beyond me and continued on her way toward the house. I watched her go, then looked to Darioush.

“She is beautiful, Darioush,” I told her. “How does one so beautiful also have heart of gold? Clearly it is not fair towards those who would desire to envy her looks.”

Darioush tossed his head at me.

“Do not be silly!” I told him. “I am not jealous of her!”

But Darioush did not seem to think so as he made his way back to the stable, me following along beside him with a red face of indignance at such a suggestion. I did not even remember what I looked like. How could I be jealous?

Yet in trying to convince Darioush, I felt as though I was convincing myself.