Salam guys! Here is another chapter hope you like it.

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"The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter."

*The Wedding*

No matter how many times the vigorous afternoon sun notified wind to keep distance but the mischievous wind disregarded the command as it was exceedingly eager to witness a day such as this one. It unfolded its wings and gazed flabbergasted at the men who held two sided drums and duff in hands. It whirled around the men who cooked lamb and goat for the awaited feast in large cauldrons on open fire. Wind sprinted over to the large crowd of men gathered around a crackling fire, near a gargantuan tent situated on the other side of the tribe, far from the tent constructed for women. It fluttered its wings like a raptor when drums commenced to beat in a beautiful rhythm. Gradually, men from both tribes formed a large circle to witness those who drew out their magnificent swords to sway with the drums.

Instantly, clouds casted a dense blanket of grey over the tribe and shielded sun from sight. Wind raised its head to see what had caused the clouds to act so peculiar. When the elder of the wind trailed the clouds gaze it beamed further, taking sand particles upwards. There stood Faris in his glorious height; he wore a white thobe that touched his new sandals, a white headdress and black 'egal placed on his head with a golden bishth encased on his broad body.

Wind swooned then swept his hair that fell on his shoulders, neatly. Faris was handsome, so prepossessing that by Allah those who wished for this wedding to not occur abandoned that thought and gaped at him. Faris had a small smile that tip toed on his lips when he surveyed the two facing lines of men recite verses of old Bedouin songs. The men that stood in lines were garbed in long black thobes that touched their shins, with traditional salwar. Their swords and carved daggers tied around their waists.

Their performance was interrupted frequently by the knights who led their horses in the midst of the crowd and gently urged the horses to move along the duffs. The performers then raised their swords and lifted them up and down with the drums and applause from the spectators. Tonight was the wedding night, a night blessed for a tribe and an imprecation for another one. It was the night where Sheikh Faisal was at last trounced in this feud.

Faris permitted his smile to unfurl on his lips when his brothers, Nasser and Fahd joined the men, swinging their swords. Children from Al Borkan tribe snatched sticks and mirrored the steps of their elders. Sheikh Mubarak drew his sword, the sword that was only unsheathed when it craved blood. However, tonight it was drawn to participate in the jollification of his son's wedding.

Faris perceived how Badr stood alongside him and how he denied to take part in the merrymaking with the Borkans. Khalid had not made an appearance ever since the Borkans arrived at the tribe. When someone were to interrogate his absences Badr would merely reply, 'Khalid made certain things went well'. By Allah, Faris knew better. Both brothers had cousins, friends who could have taken good care of the repast. Khalid engrossed himself in the arrangements so he would not be present.

The reward and dominance Faris was to achieve escorted yet another smile on his lips. As for the younger sibling, Salem, the root of the catastrophe, celebrated with all his heart. Faris knew he was not to be condemned. Salem was still a child he did not discern what he had committed. Faris al Fursan observed as Salem swung his sword, leaped a foot or two in the air then landed gracefully on the sand. Men around them hooted and wolf whistled for him. Salem stood, chest puffed up and shoulders pulled back to show that indeed he was a Sheikh, son of Sheikh Faisal. Faris saw from the corner of his eye when Badr grinned for the first time that day, as though proud of his younger brother.

After a considerable time, it was time for the feast and Khalid bestowed them with his presence. He did not wish to join in the inconsequential celebration while his sister's heart shed tears. He helped his cousins along with tribesmen to serve the opulent feast no man has ever witnessed in Al Rashideen tribe. His prime intention was to keep distance from the groom, for he did not posses the strength to restrain himself. He was not Badr to stand beside the man and do not butcher him.

Badr escorted Faris back in the prodigious tent when the lavish dinner was served. Promptly, Salem darted up to them and ambled beside his elder brother.

He waited for a moment then began, "Ya Badr, it is so pretty," Salem chimed in and waved his sword back and forth.

"What is?" Badr inquired without looking at him.

"Ummaya decorated Henna on Raghad's hands," the younger brother grinned. "The women are all assembled around her. Wallahi Badr when they put the henna on her hands mother closed her fingers then enveloped her hands in a red clothe. You must see it." Salem finished, gleeful.

"I will, insha'Allah." Badr murmured.

Faris glanced at Salem for a second, then looked frontwards. Nothing, nothing displayed before his eyes. On a wedding night the groom desires to see the woman who would live with him, until their Lord wished for them to return to Him. However, Faris he did not possess such feelings, the heart that thumped inside his chest was too dark to illuminate a sketch of Raghad. Indeed, when he prayed his Fajr prayer, he entreated to have a tranquil life, but he was aware he will never allow his enemy's daughter in his heart.

At the feast many Borkan men endeavoured to make small conversations with the groom, the notorious knight. Faris on the other hand did not have intentions to be benevolent, he responded as he pleased. All along his hawk-like eyes were set on his father, Sheikh Mubarak. He knew his father would attempt and unsheathe yet another ruse. However, Sheikh Mubarak remained hushed for time being and that did not sit well with Faris. What he and Badr plotted was meant to halt his father's stratagems, he could not allow his father thrust his sword in the sand.

Three long animated hours later the feast was taken away only to be served with newly harvested fruits, tea and qahwa. Every man in the tribe was summoned even those who stood guard by the boundaries, they sat in the company of Sheikhs and leaders to savour the feast.

"Believe it or not ya Khalid, we are a family now," Faris heard his brother Nasser verbalize and that piqued his interest. He rested his left hand on the round pillow, sipped on his qahwa and hearkened.

"And I suppose you are contented, Nasser," Khalid mocked. At this the monster smiled a stony one which resembled the lethal cold that had engulfed the sky outside.

"Must I not be?" Nasser cocked his eyebrow and chewed on his date.

Faris grew apprehensive at once, Nasser was undisputedly not the man to meddle with. "Looking at the circumstances you should not," Khalid remarked poised, his gaze on Nasser.

Nasser the tall beast leaned forward and placed his large hand on Khalid's shoulder then grinned," No matter the occurrence ya walad ash Sheikh, I must celebrate. It is not everyday my brother is the star in the sky," the knights glared at each other for few seconds then Khalid rose to his feet and strode away, clearly vexed in Nasser's presence.

"You must not commit such acts, Ya Nasser." Faris brought his brother's divided attention to him.

The barbarian chortled and Faris frowned at his high voice, "I do not believe it is wise of you to prevent me from this, ya Faris. You are my brother and this might be your only marriage." Nasser pronounced nonchalant.

Faris's sharp eyes caught something and he knew Badr paid heed to their conversation now, "Do not permit your heart to be convinced that this will be my only marriage, brother. I am a Sheikh, a leader. I shall have as many brides as I wish." Faris retorted in a deep voice.

He twisted his neck to look at Badr, his gaze dared Badr to perform an act, but was well aware that a man like eagle of the knights did not unveil his rage in front of people. Rather welcomed the unuttered challenge valiantly. In the meantime Badr delivered a message to Faris through his eyes, the eyes that warned him to take another woman and he shall see the consequences.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Faris's lips, then after a second Badr gave a nod. It was an oath, a pledge that he shall have no woman other than Raghad and deep down inside Faris knew, many women would only escalate his headache. This was intentionally done to test Badr. Knight of knights then turned to his brother only to see Nasser smile broadly.

Minutes transformed into hours, and hours transformed into a cold and frosty night. Guests began to depart, but not before they sauntered up to Faris, the groom and showered their blessings to the man who sat there, like a king on his throne. Those who were relatives or dear friends stayed behind, or gathered around Faris. Al Rashideens began to withdraw for their tents when midnight opened its creaky doors.

Then approached the time for Faris to meet his bride. Reluctantly, Badr departed from the tent to see if his beloved sister was prepared to meet the groom. The moment he stepped foot in the tent built for women, he saw that it was less crowded. Badr called for his mother to accompany him outside and discuss the matter at hand.

"Assalmu Alaikum, Ummi," he greeted the instant his mother appeared. The loyal and humane son took hold of his mother's hand and placed a tender kiss on her knuckle.

"Wa alaikum assalam wa rahmatu Allah, Badr." she answered in a low voice and gave a few gentle pats on her son's hand.

The prudent son cleared his throat, "Where is my Raghad?"

"She wished to be in her quarter," Umm Badr whispered, despondency radiant in her eyes.

"Let us go and see her, she must get ready," Badr uttered, cloaked his large cold hand around his mother's warm one and walked towards Raghad's quarters.

Oh, how the winter wind wept as they ambled to her quarters. How it twirled around them to halt and retreat for it had seen the desolation in her doe-like eyes. For the wind had witnessed her weep and cage her heart in the depth of darkness. Badr grit his teeth, his Raghad, his dearest sister was now under the protection of the man they so abhorred. He dreaded this moment, he feared that his sister might commit something horrendous. By Allah, if his Raghad hurt herself he will slaughter the man with his bear hands!

Once they reached the tent, Badr announced his arrival then walked in. There was nothing but a lantern that illuminated the tent, in the corner of the tent she sat there all alone. The man gasped, Badr was aware of his sister's beauty but that moment he knew he had never seen a woman so prepossessing like the one in front of him. He sent a prayer to his Lord, then bent low and sat on his heels in front of Raghad. Badr placed his clenched fist on thighs and waited for her to raise her gaze, but knew better.

"It is time for your husband to come see you," he began in a whisper almost inaudible for only her to hear, not even their mother who stood a feet behind him.

For a moment no sound was heard but the wind that whooshed over deserted land in a drastic manner. "You acted upon what father asked you. I-I beg of you, do not let me see him tonight. Tomorrow, I shall muster courage to face my fate but tonight I will most certainly crumble. I do not have the strength to face that monster, Badr." Raghad murmured without meeting his gaze.

"What on earth are you saying, Raghad! What would the tribe say?" Umm Badr hissed, terrified.

Here the vanquished bride looked up and Badr tightened his fist. Her beautiful doe-like eyes that always held a smile were dead. The rims were scarlet and swollen and lashes wet with tears. "My beloved mother, you have always cared and cowered before what the tribe says. Once in your life care for your own blood." her passionless voice caused Badr's blood to run cold. He witnessed the death of her happiness, their father was the sinner, the one to have murdered his own daughter's contentment.

"You must not_" Badr lifted his hand to stop his mother. He leaned in and dropped a gentle kiss on Raghad's forehead.

"Do not fret. I am alive Raghado and I vow that I will not let you see him tonight. It is your wish and that ya bint al halal will be full-filled." Badr gave his word then rose to his feet. He peered at his sister for a second then departed leaving his mother gape at him, eyes filled with demoralized tears.

Thoughts spun in his brain like a dust devil, what on earth would he say to Faris? To his father? A deep vicious frown materialized on his face when Raghad's eyes flashed in his mind. He had failed her once and Badr did not have the intentions to fail his sister yet once again.

His sandals crunched tiny stones and sand particles as he made his way towards the enormous tent. Crickets chirped and ants scurried around in search for food. Moon along with stars gazed down at him, restless to see what the knight would do. Eagle of knights did not stop when he entered the tent, he trod to the middle of the tent where Faris sat. Badr exhaled through his nose when he caught sight of Faris alone with Nasser, he greeted the Borkans and sat next to them.

Seconds took their steps and turned into few minutes, Badr knew he could not defer it any longer. He twisted his body to face Faris and stared the brute in the eyes. "You must rest, Ya Faris. You have a long journey ahead of you," Badr recited the words with an impassive face.

Faris instantly comprehended the meaning and stared back. Nasser remained silent and waited for his brother to reply. Badr scrutinized as Faris's brows knitted together then he gave a firm nod. A hefty burden lifted from Badr's shoulders at the groom's answer. No one questioned a thing when he departed leaving Faris there.

Clouds curtained the moon petrified of the wrath that they feared Faris al Furan would unleash. Faris stood up, blew off the lantern, took hold of his sword and sat next to it. He could see the silhouette of Nasser who study him. "You did not verbalize a word, brother." Nasser whisper hissed.

Faris disregarded his comment for a while. "I am not a monster ya Nasser. I fear Allah. I am my Lord's servant. The woman is terrified to death, let her have her way for now, besides I do not wish to see her as well." came the groom's owlish respond. Faris exhibited his true nature a little yet unswathe his brutality the same time.

"Very well, brother. You know better." Nasser huffed then lay on his back.

Faris was not bruised but far from it, he was incensed. He did not like the thought of his bride denying him. Ever since his name had been attached to Sheikh Faisal's daughter things did not travel on the path he desired them to. People dared to disobeyed him, defied his word and Faris did not like that at all.

Gradually the murderous knight lay on his back, rested his head on the cushion with a hand on his sword the other on his belly, he stared in the pitch dark tent and pondered on the days that were to greet him.

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Well hope you liked the chapter, I am sorry for updating so late first cuz I was out of country for a week then when I came back to Dubai I got so freaking ill I could not move. As soon as I got better I worked on this, let me know what you think about this chapter in your COMMENTS and don't forget to VOTE.



PS: Anyone wants to see how the Bedouin weddings happen check the video on the side click 32:13 but please don't let the characters of the video effect your imagination for Faris or Raghad. It is a clip from the drama that inspired me to write Prince of Knights.