Hero at the Fall (Rebel of the Sands 3)

‘Well, waiting won’t change anything,’ Ahmed said, making the decision. ‘We go in now.’

We fell into a formation naturally: Rahim and Ahmed taking the lead, little Mara still clinging to Rahim’s sleeve, Shazad and me flanking them on either side, Sam and Jin taking up the rear, with the twins slipping in and out between us, now in the shape of cats.

We passed below a huge arch made of the same red stone as the rest of the fortress. Two heavy wooden doors sat propped open, guiding us into an immense stone hall. Inside, it stretched up two levels, painted wooden beams supporting the ceiling high above us. By the light of hanging oil lamps, I could see faces and animals carved into the beams, gazing down on the scene below. Two dozen tables set up in a great horseshoe curved around the hall. They were lined with soldiers and heavy with food and pitchers of wine. I hadn’t seen this hall when we’d been here before, when I’d been invited to Bilal’s private rooms. But now he’d emerged, it would seem, and he sat at the very end of the hall on a dais above the rest of his men, in a chair that was more like a throne, a huge, twisted seat made of wood painted to look like gold and stacked heavy with pillows.

It took a moment for the first of Rahim’s men to see us.

‘Commander Rahim, sir!’ a young soldier at the far end of the table exclaimed, standing up and knocking over his chair. It crashed on to the tiled floor loud enough that several other heads turned our way. Shazad’s hand strayed to her side at the same time as I touched the trigger on my gun for comfort. But the soldier strode forwards, embracing Rahim, as he let out a relieved laugh and then, seeming to remember himself, released him and offered a lopsided salute. ‘We thought you were dead, Commander.’ The hall was quietening down now, and almost every pair of eyes in the place was turned towards us. Including Bilal’s.

His eyes were sunk so deep that all I could see were shadowed pits there. His hollow-looking face made him look crueller than he ever had. Bilal was fading fast. He was so emaciated that he looked like a small boy sitting in a too-big seat his father had left him, trying to hold it against a prince, who held more power than he ever would.

For a moment I felt a stab of pity for him. But as I looked around, I could see that the men’s wine cups were full but untouched. They had been well trained, most of them by Rahim. And Bilal was ready to kill them all.

‘It’s not that easy to get rid of me,’ Rahim said, clapping his soldier on the back. His words were jovial, but his eyes, fixed on Bilal, were anything but. ‘What’s happening here?’

Looking at his crumbling body, I hadn’t been entirely sure Bilal would be able to stand, but he rose to his feet gingerly. ‘A celebration,’ he declared, his voice still carrying across the halls in spite of his illness, ‘in anticipation of your arrival. And your annihilation of the foreign threat.’ He signalled to one of the servants, who rushed forwards with a tray of wine glasses for us.

‘Funny, that.’ Rahim took a full wine glass without hesitation. ‘Because I’d heard rumours about you striking alliances with foreigners. I’m sure your father would have marvelled at that.’

Bilal’s eyes danced to me and Jin and Sam. I felt the memory of the burn of Zaahir’s kiss on my mouth. If I was going to say anything, do anything, now was the time. I could save Bilal; I could end this without bodies. I glanced down at the wine glass that was being offered to me and kept my lips sealed.

‘Yes, well,’ Bilal said, after letting Rahim’s accusation hang a long moment in the air. ‘I am in good company, making alliances our fathers would not be pleased at.’

Rahim started to advance towards the dais, walking slowly, deliberately. ‘A toast, then,’ he said.

We all watched as hundreds of men raised their glasses obediently, Rahim’s army falling in line. ‘A toast,’ Bilal agreed. ‘To our esteemed commander, Rahim, on his victory and return.’

‘To the commander,’ the crowd echoed, bringing the glasses up. I was about to cry out, to stop them, to warn them. But Rahim got there first.

‘Wait.’ He held up his hand. It was an order called out in a room full of soldiers, and it had been issued by their leader. Their true one. Every single one of them stopped in an instant.

And surrounding Lord Bilal stood an entire room of men silently reminding him where their true loyalty lay. That this was Rahim’s army. He held out his cup to Lord Bilal. ‘You don’t have a drink, my lord. You can’t drink to my health without it. Besides, it would be rude of your men to drink before you.’

Rahim stepped on to the dais, pulling himself up to his lord’s level. Except Rahim stood a head taller than Bilal, at least. He didn’t break his gaze as he held out his own glass for his one-time friend.

Finally Lord Bilal reached for the cup. As both their hands closed over it, Rahim leaned in close to Bilal. I saw his lips move, saying something to him in a low voice. A sad smile spread over Bilal’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He just pulled back, prising the glass from Rahim’s fingers.

He raised the glass. ‘To your victory,’ he said again. ‘And long life.’

And then he drank, deep and long. He hadn’t finished draining it before his legs gave out. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Chapter 33

I found Leyla in Bilal’s rooms. o;Well, waiting won’t change anything,’ Ahmed said, making the decision. ‘We go in now.’

We fell into a formation naturally: Rahim and Ahmed taking the lead, little Mara still clinging to Rahim’s sleeve, Shazad and me flanking them on either side, Sam and Jin taking up the rear, with the twins slipping in and out between us, now in the shape of cats.

We passed below a huge arch made of the same red stone as the rest of the fortress. Two heavy wooden doors sat propped open, guiding us into an immense stone hall. Inside, it stretched up two levels, painted wooden beams supporting the ceiling high above us. By the light of hanging oil lamps, I could see faces and animals carved into the beams, gazing down on the scene below. Two dozen tables set up in a great horseshoe curved around the hall. They were lined with soldiers and heavy with food and pitchers of wine. I hadn’t seen this hall when we’d been here before, when I’d been invited to Bilal’s private rooms. But now he’d emerged, it would seem, and he sat at the very end of the hall on a dais above the rest of his men, in a chair that was more like a throne, a huge, twisted seat made of wood painted to look like gold and stacked heavy with pillows.

It took a moment for the first of Rahim’s men to see us.

‘Commander Rahim, sir!’ a young soldier at the far end of the table exclaimed, standing up and knocking over his chair. It crashed on to the tiled floor loud enough that several other heads turned our way. Shazad’s hand strayed to her side at the same time as I touched the trigger on my gun for comfort. But the soldier strode forwards, embracing Rahim, as he let out a relieved laugh and then, seeming to remember himself, released him and offered a lopsided salute. ‘We thought you were dead, Commander.’ The hall was quietening down now, and almost every pair of eyes in the place was turned towards us. Including Bilal’s.

His eyes were sunk so deep that all I could see were shadowed pits there. His hollow-looking face made him look crueller than he ever had. Bilal was fading fast. He was so emaciated that he looked like a small boy sitting in a too-big seat his father had left him, trying to hold it against a prince, who held more power than he ever would.

For a moment I felt a stab of pity for him. But as I looked around, I could see that the men’s wine cups were full but untouched. They had been well trained, most of them by Rahim. And Bilal was ready to kill them all.

‘It’s not that easy to get rid of me,’ Rahim said, clapping his soldier on the back. His words were jovial, but his eyes, fixed on Bilal, were anything but. ‘What’s happening here?’

Looking at his crumbling body, I hadn’t been entirely sure Bilal would be able to stand, but he rose to his feet gingerly. ‘A celebration,’ he declared, his voice still carrying across the halls in spite of his illness, ‘in anticipation of your arrival. And your annihilation of the foreign threat.’ He signalled to one of the servants, who rushed forwards with a tray of wine glasses for us.

‘Funny, that.’ Rahim took a full wine glass without hesitation. ‘Because I’d heard rumours about you striking alliances with foreigners. I’m sure your father would have marvelled at that.’

Bilal’s eyes danced to me and Jin and Sam. I felt the memory of the burn of Zaahir’s kiss on my mouth. If I was going to say anything, do anything, now was the time. I could save Bilal; I could end this without bodies. I glanced down at the wine glass that was being offered to me and kept my lips sealed.

‘Yes, well,’ Bilal said, after letting Rahim’s accusation hang a long moment in the air. ‘I am in good company, making alliances our fathers would not be pleased at.’

Rahim started to advance towards the dais, walking slowly, deliberately. ‘A toast, then,’ he said.

We all watched as hundreds of men raised their glasses obediently, Rahim’s army falling in line. ‘A toast,’ Bilal agreed. ‘To our esteemed commander, Rahim, on his victory and return.’

‘To the commander,’ the crowd echoed, bringing the glasses up. I was about to cry out, to stop them, to warn them. But Rahim got there first.

‘Wait.’ He held up his hand. It was an order called out in a room full of soldiers, and it had been issued by their leader. Their true one. Every single one of them stopped in an instant.

And surrounding Lord Bilal stood an entire room of men silently reminding him where their true loyalty lay. That this was Rahim’s army. He held out his cup to Lord Bilal. ‘You don’t have a drink, my lord. You can’t drink to my health without it. Besides, it would be rude of your men to drink before you.’

Rahim stepped on to the dais, pulling himself up to his lord’s level. Except Rahim stood a head taller than Bilal, at least. He didn’t break his gaze as he held out his own glass for his one-time friend.

Finally Lord Bilal reached for the cup. As both their hands closed over it, Rahim leaned in close to Bilal. I saw his lips move, saying something to him in a low voice. A sad smile spread over Bilal’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He just pulled back, prising the glass from Rahim’s fingers.

He raised the glass. ‘To your victory,’ he said again. ‘And long life.’

And then he drank, deep and long. He hadn’t finished draining it before his legs gave out. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Chapter 33

I found Leyla in Bilal’s rooms.