Page 49 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
“If I may, my King,” themedjaycontinued, “I think she is telling the truth.”
Namir finally met Zahra’s eyes. Her gaze softened. “Please, my King.”
An arrow shot through the air, striking themedjay’schest and slicing the skin of Zahra’s arm. Zahra cried out as both guards released her. She clutched the wound as blood spurted out.
The othermedjaystepped in front of Namir with hiskhopeshout. “My King, run!”
Namir stumbled backward, hiding behind the structure. His horrified eyes were trained on the guard with the arrow in his chest, who was gasping on the ground. Two assassins leaped from the bushes, their faces masked by fabric and their weapons reflecting the red light of the moon. A third stepped out behind the other two, holding a bow and a readied arrow. Zahra recognized the third assassin instantly—Pesha.
Zahra ran toward Namir as the assassins attacked themedjay. “Come on!”
Namir snapped from his stupor, following her as she led him from the scene. Four more assassins appeared from the darkness behind them.
“Guards,” Namir cried.
Fourmedjaynearby noticed them running past. One turned and ran for help, while the others dove into action. Amedjaywas quickly slaughtered, and the others struggled against the skills of the enemy. The assassins were well-trained, had the element of surprise, and outnumbered the scattered soldiers—they did not stand a chance.
The sound of blades clashing faded into the distance as Namir and Zahra fled from thepr-aa. Namir took the lead, guiding Zahra into a small, wooden shed. Zahra closed the door behind them, and Namir dug through the organized gardening tools. He found one with a metal stick and forced it into the door frame to prevent the door from opening.
Zahra peered through a small hole in the wall as Namir dug through the tools once more. He held a sickle between them, panicked disappointment crossing his face.
Silence filled the shed as they both stilled, listening for the assassins. Only the distant sounds of the Feast and the celebrations could be heard.
Namir breathed out, his shocked eyes focused on the floor. “You were telling the truth.”
“Yes.” The anger from only moments ago was replaced by the burning heat of survival. “There are seven of them.”
“They are trying to kill me.” His gaze was distant, the reality of the situation still unreal to him. “Why tonight? Why have I not seen them before?”
“Your army’s efforts would be stretched thin by the great number of people at the Feast,” Zahra reasoned. “I don’t know why they didn’t attack sooner. They followed you this morning.”
They couldn’t have been prepared by then. An attack during the day would have likely ended in their capture and death. The cover of darkness permitted them the chance to escape once Namir had been killed.
“You have been somewhere else every night. Perhaps, they couldn’t keep up with you, and only now, when you made yourself known to your guards, did they locate you.”
Namir did not respond. His trembling hands clutched the sickle, and he leaned against the wall as if it would protect him from the assassins’ blades.
Zahra’s heart softened. She felt pity for the young royal. He did not deserve this.
A spear tore through the wooden door, the tip of it landing inches from her feet. Zahra suppressed a scream and stumbled back, crashing into Namir and sending them both to the floor.
Namir pushed Zahra off and readied his weapon as the spear was ripped from the door. Zahra searched for a weapon of her own. She grabbed a measly wooden stick and held it menacingly in front of her.
The assassin with the spear attacked the door again, this time nearly knocking the door over.
Zahra turned to Namir. “We will rush them together, and then you will run.”
Doubt crossed his face, but still he held his weapon in front of him as she stepped forward. Once the assassin removed the spear, Zahra and Namir burst forward and rammed into the door. It collapsed, flying backward and knocking one of the assassins off his feet. Pesha dodged to the side and lifted hermakhairatoward Zahra, her bow gone.
Namir tackled the fallen assassin, bringing the sickle down on him. The assassin lifted his spear, blocking the attack and grunting as he tried to force Namir off with his legs.
Zahra clutched the stick close to her body, unsure of how to move or where to strike. Pesha did not wait for her to decide. She darted forward, shoving Zahra aside like she was a rag doll.
Zahra’s shoulder struck the ground, and a pained gasp bubbled from her mouth. Pesha ran toward Namir, lifting hermakhaira. He swiveled around, blocking her attack with his sickle. He grunted, attempting to stand from his position over the fallen assassin. With one smooth motion, Namir threw her off, but Pesha swung her blade at his side.
Namir cried out, stumbling backward. He tripped over the assassin’s body, crashing to the ground. His sickle fell from his grasp. Pesha lifted her knife.
Zahra leaped from her spot on the ground, grabbing her makeshift staff as she ran. She jumped onto Pesha’s back, forcing the stick in front of Pesha’s throat and tugging it back with all of her strength.
