from Of the Thanbury Isles and Further
By Sarah Liza Parker
A/N: A continuation of (Chapter XI). A'ishah is the sister of both Bahir and Sami. Sami is arranged to marry A'ishah before he can take the throne, and Bahir (who is in love with A'ishah) is distraught.
Chapter XIII
Time passed slowly for Bahir. Perhaps it was because of the hole in his heart that never ceased to leak red blood all over his hands--a hole that could only be mended by A’ishah. And oh, how he thought of her every night as he looked into the darkness. He wished he could feel her lips upon his, but only in the circumstance of her willingness and consent to his advances.
Bahir let the image of A’ishah on the ground, sobbing in disgust at him, someone who loved in her like no one ever would; haunt him for days upon end. He never thought it would be this way. He never thought he would ever retreat to his quarters after being humiliated by his own sister to be left to submerge in guilt and shame.
He had not seen A’ishah since he fled her room that night. But, he could only imagine what she was doing right now…preparing for father’s death perhaps, and then her wedding with Sami.
Bahir jolted from his bed and out of his self-pity and began to tap his hand nervously on his pant leg. There was a way…a dark path which he could take to finally prove his love and commitment to A’ishah.
This would prove his manhood and his place as rightful king.
He’d change Qaza for the better.
#
The kinjal’s cold blade rested quite easily on Bahir’s hip, concealed by his heavy cloak as he slipped inside of Sami’s room after the moon had risen and he knew Sami would be fast asleep.
The stillness inside of the airy quarters lit by only the moon did nothing but hinder Bahir’s nerves, as he could hear every gentle step he made across the smooth floor echo off the various oak chests and wardrobes. Bahir successfully kept his breathing in check as he made the slow and careful journey from the bedroom door to the chokingly ostentatious canopy bed in the back of the large space. The ridiculous amount of items Sami had kept up in the room made any lingering remorse or guilt for what he was about to do disappear fluidly.
Sami lay still in the center of the overly large mattress, the covers carefully tucked into his figure. His breaths came softly and evenly as Bahir stood on the side, observing him cautiously--seeing if he would stir.
Bahir let out a soft sigh of relief as Sami continued to sleep. Bahir realized that his body had been very tense with anxiety and adrenaline before.
Slowly, Bahir lifted him arm to the blade on his hip, while keeping his eyes trained on Sami’s closed eye lids. As he drew the dagger the steel glinted in the light casting reflections on the walls and ceiling. Bahir held his breath, the nervousness now sinking into him. He leaned painfully slow over the bed and let the kinjal hover over Sami’s neck.
Was this the right way to do this? Killing him in his sleep? Perhaps, Sami was good like Bahir. Maybe Sami knew that Bahir belonged with A’ishah and he would listen to reason and step down from the throne, letting Bahir take crown.
Bahir thought about all the things he would accomplish as king. All of the hungry stomachs he would aid, all of the sickness he would alleviate. He could only imagine A’ishah’s proud face as she realized, truly, his strength and wisdom.
Why would Sami give up the throne for Bahir? Sami was selfish and always got the utmost attention from mother and father. The heir to the throne. He was put up like some sort of god. Bahir scoffed inwardly at the thought of the privileged and spoiled Sami becoming such. The gods laugh down at Sami because of his weakness.
It was such a shame Bahir would have to kill his brother. He used to quite fond of Sami. When they were very little, back before Sami had something stuck up his arse, they would play together. Sami taught Bahir how to spar, how to do a summersault, and how to wield a weapon. Oh, how things change.
But, maybe nothing did change. Maybe, deep down on the inside, Sami is still the boy he used to be. Mother and father might have influenced him so he could-
The tightening of muscles and a sharp choking sound startled Bahir and all he could see was white. Hesitantly, his arm retracted the blade, now dripping in blood.
His hand shook violently as he lifted the blade up to his face and peered at it in disbelief. Bahir turned and look down at Sami’s body, lying the same it was before, except with a bloody neck.
#
Bahir stumbled out of Sami’s room, uncertain of what to do next. He held the bloody weapon in his hand tightly, still examining it closely. It all was too real for him.
Frustration welled up inside of Bahir, as he grabbed his head with his other hand.
He had no idea where to go, or what to do next. Where does one go after they kill their own brother in cold blood?
Bahir’s heart pounded at a fast rate, and his breathing grew erratic as he wildly staggered throughout the chambers, the hand not holding the kinjal dragging across the stone.
His fist pounded on a wooden door and did not cease until it swung up angrily, making Bahir stubble a few steps forward. He came face to face with A’ishah, whose eyes grew wide as her face turned up in shock. “Dear gods, what have you done?” she frantically asked, pulling Bahir inside of the room and quickly shutting the door behind.
Bahir stood in shock, letting the kinjal drop from his limp hand to the floor, making a soft clatter!. The blood from blade left drops of Sami’s blood on the marble.
A’ishah looked, face aghast, at Bahir, and then to dagger on the floor. “What have you done?” she murmured, stepping back from him and the weapon.
“I-,” Bahir stammered, “I did…I did it.”
Tears began to surge up from A’ishah’s eyes as she her voice quivered: “You did what?”
Bahir turned and looked up at A’ishah. “I did it for you.”
A’ishah let out a gasp and cried, shaking her head: “No! Sami!” Tears streamed down her face. “You killed our own brother!” She lunged at Bahir and he quickly back-handed her, sending her whirling to the tile.
Her cheek now a furious red, she looked up at her brother in disgust and rage, spitting at him: “You killed him for your own sick desires!”
Bahir stepped over to A’ishah and grabbed her arms roughly, dragging her from the ground. “I did it for you! For our love!” Bahir expressed, desperately to her as he shook her small frame around.
She struggled against him, grunting and shouting. Her hair grew wet and wild with her tears and exertion against the stronger sibling. “I will never love you! You are weak, and sick, and twisted! You will never be king!”
Bahir screamed in rage and threw A’ishah across the room, her head crashing against a pillar roughly.
As A’ishah’s body stirred weakly on the ground in pain and shock, Bahir rubbed his bloody hands on his face, spreading around the tears.
He slowly walked over to A’ishah, dreading seeing her lifeless face stained with red. He kneeled down on the ground and slowly turned her body toward his.
A’ishah’s head was matted with blood and bruised with all shades of blue and purple. Her left eye was swollen shut and shattered teeth lay across the tile.
Bahir let out a breath of air as he softly laid his head against his sister’s, closing his eyes and feeling her warmth radiate from her broken body. “You should have let me love you,” Bahir murmured softly to himself as he let one of his hands stroke her sticky hair.
He choked out a sob and squeezed his eyes shut tighter, now rocking her body against his chest--cradling her. His little sister, the love of his life. The brown eyes he sought after, the smile he craved. Her soul was now dissipated, thanks to himself…the innocent soul that refused to love someone who was so good for her. He would have taken care of her. He would have made sure she was alright. How was this an act of love? She now laid dead in his arms. Who would he love now?
Bahir heard a startling cough and he lifted his head to see and feel A’ishah budging faintly in his arms and gasping for air desperately. The last of his tears dropped on her face as she opened her good eye and saw him above her. “Bahir,” she whimpered, still continuing to weep frantically.
“Say you love me,” Bahir breathed gently and smiled with hope, gathering her hair away from her face and stroking her cheek.
Breathing with difficulties, A’ishah shook her head only slightly. “My brother.”
The smile on Bahir’s face never vanished as he hands moved down her face to her neck. As he rubbed his thumbs along her smooth skin he whispered: “Say you love me.”
A’ishah only closed her eye and sighed, repeating: “My brother.”
“Oh, my love, farewell,” Bahir bid as he pressed his lips against A’ishah’s, letting his fingers tighten around her neck.
He drew her last breaths from their kiss.
