Salam guys, how are y'all? Enjoy this chapter =D

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~*Faith is an oasis in the heart which can never be reached by the caravan of thinking*~ Kahlil Gibran.

"How many?" Faris growled as he mounted Tufan gracefully. The beast bared its teeth, stamped its feet and squealed as if sensing his master's wrath.

His low minacious voice generated dread in Hamdan, "Almost a dozen, S-Sheikh," he stammered.

Faris trailed his gaze around to search for the brute of a man, Nasser. Soon located him by the well drinking water from the well bucket. That instant Nasser lifted his head to look at Faris, he saw the incensed countenance on his sibling's face, hurled the bucket aside and dashed towards them.

"Nasser, remain here I entrust the welfare of the tribe in your hands," with that the ferocious knight commanded his chevaliers in a crisp glacial voice, colder than the bitter wind that twirled around them. "Hamdan," Faris then faced his cousin, "Mount you horse, you shall ride with us," with the last nod to Nasser they marched forward.

Faris was livid, rage ignited his blood and knot his veins compressing them. How dare such weaklings endeavour to ambush his clan! His tribe where pious women and sinless children resided. Where he lived. How dare those mothers give birth to such cowards!

He encased his headdress around his neck like a rope when wind roared rapidly. His fist tightened on Tufan's reins subconsciously. By Allah, Faris craved to display them as to why tribes around the Arab world entitled him the barbarian. If he were to spill their immoral blood and bath in it, he shall. No son of a mother has the audacity to invade his tribe. Today his sword shall feast on fresh, warm blood. Indeed his sword had been in deep slumber in it's sheath from a long time.

The thundering hoofs halted on top of a sand-dune after what seemed like an hour, wind swirled tiny sand particles around them then ceased its movements into a serene sway. There was a creek situated just few feet from the sand-dune. Faris twisted his head to his right, "Where are they, Ya Hamdan?" he hissed, impatient.

"The invaders took refuge under the tress just beyond those rocks," Hamdan directed his finger to the rocks behind few palm tress.

Thick dark hair escaped his headdress and bit on his eyes but Faris paid not heed to that. His broad chest heaved up and down from riding Tufan, jaw clenched with those sharp hawk-like eyes narrowed in sheer concentration. "What do you propose, Prince?" questioned one of his men.

"Make certain those men are the ones that plotted to raid my tribe, then, "Faris paused, "I demand for their heads. If any of my men were to hesitate I shall have your heads in return," the voice that sounded from his lips cascaded frantic shivers down the spines of the knights.

They should sink to their knees and send prayers to their Lord that Faris was alongside them, he was convinced none of his men were to get a scratch on their skins in his presence. After a while the Borkans commenced to descend the sand-dune, Faris ahead like a staunch leader a true lionhearted warrior. Their swords got restless in the sheaths to come out, slash flesh and relish warm blood.

The knights proceeded unhurriedly as if undetectable shadows. Faris raised his hand in the air when his gaze fell upon someone, his men halted at his command forthwith. "Are they the bandits?" he interrogated his cousin.

Hamdan progressed forward to stop his horse beside Tufan. "Yes, ya Faris," Hamdan responded, the moment he spoke the words Faris drew out his glorious sword that gleamed in the sunlight, euphoric to be free.

"If any of them survives, you shall not be pardoned," Faris spat, hammered his feet on Tufan's belly. The beast raised it's hoofs and sprinted ahead, exuberant. Knights followed Faris courageous, without contemplating on it twice. They were well aware of the rage that inflamed Faris and by Allah no one could open their mouth to verbalize words.

The bandits who reposed across the creek under palm tress leaped to their feet promptly. Faris urged Tufan to cross the creek disregarding the cold water that soaked his robe and kissed his skin. Swords were drawn and men faced each other's death. Inside Faris felt a tempestuous volcano that threatened to erupt and blaze everything in it's path. He was enraged beyond the bonds of possibility and their blood was the only source to tame his wrath, like when droplets of rain soothe the burning forest.

Faris tightened his grip on his sword, so hard, that the haft grazed his palm. But he did not distress himself on it, the thing he desired that moment was the warm blood of thieves on his hands.

"Who are you?" demanded the man who stood in front of the group that faced the Borkans. Faris knew that the tall, dark man was the headman of the raiders.

The knight did not respond right away. However, glared the man in his eyes for a long while, the vehemence in his gaze urged the thief to avert his gaze and glower at the Borkan horsemen. Faris's men knew that lethal glare was so fierce it could burn a hole in a mountain.

"Rumor is that you are here to assail the Borkan tribe?" then questioned that low voice, a voice only wise ones comprehended as a forewarning of immense holocaust.

"Nay, it is not a rumor but the truth. The mighty Farhad will demolish the Borkans," barked the leader with a smirk.

Here it all broke loose. Faris dismounted Tufan in a trice, crossed the space then swiftly, forcibly slide the blade of his sword on Farhad's neck. He glared at the head drop next to his feet and splatter blood on his sandals.

Every men stood perplexed as to what occurred!

Tufan slammed it's hoofs in the water as the enemy drew their blood thirsty swords. Borkans were indeed undefeatable, but the bandits were skilled as well. Faris dodged the blades that made their way for him, effortlessly. His opponent was a man of his age, he only waited long enough to register that man's abilities. Promptly another wave of rage clashed at his heart and goaded him to spill blood, so engrossed in his wrath that he did not perceive the man that came from behind him with his sword held high.

With his phenomenal expertise, Faris twisted his body the last second so that the blade bit his arm. He grit his teeth then kicked the man in the gut and thrust his sword through the man's stomach. His previous opponent came at him, like a flash of light Faris rotated on his heels and struck the man in the head, aware of the blood that drenched his hands and dripped on the ground.

When he at last raised his head the war was over, his small army had been victorious yet once again! Faris was incensed that the damned sons of satan had managed to injure him. By Allah, he yearned to spill more blood, his heart drummed violently and rage kindled his form.

"Sheikh, ya Sheikh!" Called Hamdan's voice. His head snapped towards Hamdan and glared at the man who shrank back subconsciously, "You are wounded ya Faris," Hamdan indicated, appalled.

Faris turned his back on them and recited few verses of Quran to tame his fury. "How many of my men are injured?" he investigated and turned to face them again.

"Lamentably two ya Sheikh," Hamdan replied solemnly.

"Ya Allah," Faris whispered. "Let us ride back to the tribe," then pronounced loud enough for his men to hear.

"Samahni ya Sheikh, but our tribe is at a great distance for those men to endure it," the cousin apprised.

Faris's brows knit, "Then what must one do Hamdan?" he vocalized agitated, ever so slightly.

"Al Rashideen's, their tribe is not a long way," Hamdan suggested in a shaky voice, petrified for his life.

Faris growled in vexation, he wanted to disregard that alternative, but he could not permit his pride to take over and allow his men to perish. He inhaled a few times, ignoring the sharp pain that clawed at his arm, "Very well, mount, we shall ride for Al Rashideen."

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I wanted to make the war scene longer but as you guys said no war scene so yeah. Sorry the chapter is so short am so freaking busy I don't have time at all!!! Let me know bout your fav scene in your COMMENTS and don't forget to VOTE!! I wanna reach 1 in spiritual.

Forgive me for the grammar and spelling mistakes.



Samahni ya Sheikh= Forgive me Prince.



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