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“What is it?” I asked Rabia.

She lay with her head against her shawl, which she’d stuffed with hay and fashioned into a pillow. She was smiling at something past me.

“Nothing.”

I looked behind me, but found nothing she could be amused at. “Why are you smiling at me?”

“I’m not,” Rabia turned over sourly and looked the other way, towards Yaseen; who’d crawled out of his hiding spot and was rummaging through some storage box. He pulled out a sack of what seemed like flour, and dragged it over to us, leaving a trail of white powder.

“Here, use this as a bed,” Yaseen said to Rabia, “There’s more filling if you want.”

Surprised and a little confused, Rabia took the pillow, “Yaseen, I’m sorry… about earlier.”

“We’ll be fine, sister. Don’t worry. Now let us kill this thing, I’m ready,” Yaseen said.

“Yaseen, I told you we don’t—“

“Where is it?” the boy was already pulling the shutters back and peered through.

“This is not a hunt and we’re not cavaliers,” I finished and pulled him away from the opening.

The Tuqtuq had retreated into the ruined well. A trail of blood and guts led straight into the hole. “It’s hiding inside the well now, anyways. Nothing will bring him out now, as it will sleep until it’s hungry again.”

“So that means we can sneak by,” Yaseen said quietly.

It wasn’t a bad method. With the beast now fed and slumbering, we might have a chance to escape with little noise.

“You’re considering it,” Rabia replied, joining us by the shutters.

“I can’t protect you two,” I said.

And there was still the danger of Rabia throwing herself to her death. She was too unpredictable. Too unusual for me to get a grasp of her. And why should you worry for her?

“We can warn the gatekeepers, the Han master…” Rabia said, listing all the reasons, but I doubted she cared so much about the well-being of the Han master of all things right now. “Whichever one of us makes it, can warn the cavaliers quickly,” she finished. It all made sense the way she put it, though. No point waiting until the Tuqtuq woke again and began its hunt for more meat. But is she planning something else? Against me?

“Who knows when the cavaliers might come around—“

“Alright,” I interrupted, “but we hold hands and follow my lead.”

“Fine,” she replied.

Yaseen broke into an eager smile, he was thoroughly enjoying this experience.

“Yaseen, behind me,” I said and pulled the logs from in front of the door one by one. When Rabia came to help I was afraid she’d make too much noise, but she carried them away silently and placed them on the hay.

I checked the shutters again. No sign of the beast.

Our steps were soft on the dirt. Rabia stepped over the blood with a hushed prayer and looked away from the well, holding my hand tight. We tiptoed over to the olive trees.

“Do you hear that?” I asked the others as Rabia continued pulling me into the rustling shadows. I had to hold her back.

“I can’t stop, please don’t make me stop,” she replied.

I pulled her close enough to see her pained face in the dimming sunset. “There’s something in there,” I pointed to the trees.

“What is it?” Yaseen whispered behind me.

I heard movement again, a crack of twigs and gruff breathing. It couldn’t be the Tuqtuq still wandering around. The beast’s tracks clearly led to the well. Tuqtuq didn’t wander around aimlessly in human settlements, and preferred to hide after feeding.

A Blight-hound broke through a bush; a tall breed known as the Rangal. They were common in Shaam to fend off the Blight. Yaseen’s hound had died so this must belong to someone else. It spared us a passing sniff, and continued towards the well.

He growled the closer he got to the well and began barking at the trail of blood. I studied the road, hoping for a cavalier to break through the trees shortly.

Instead, a wagon came rolling down the dirt path while the dog barked relentlessly and we were frozen in the spot, unsure of whether to run or hope the beast doesn’t come out. The wagon came trudging along with large silver pots gleaming in the fading light. The milkman hefted himself off the wagon and called to his hound absently. The dog didn’t listen. Unaware of us, the man absently patted his shirt looking for something he’d forgotten.

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“Oh, God!” he jumped as we approached him out of the dark.

“Janju aba,” Yaseen hissed, “you need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you father pays up,” he said. “Who are these people?”

“You need to go,” I said, stepping forward, “there’s been a Blight attack.”

He noticed his dog’s agitation now; the hound was still barking at the well and ignoring his calls. “Come back, Snake!” he yelled at the top of his lungs and the dog backed off, still barking but attention split between his master and the blood on the ground.

“Where is your father?” the man asked Yaseen.

“We need to leave, now,” I said. Yaseen and Rabia were already climbing up on the man’s wagon.

“Halima is sick and I can’t leave here without—“

“Janju aba,” Yaseen took the man’s hand, “I’ll get your money from the Ra’is, I promise.”

“You want to die here, instead?” I said.

The man shifted nervously, then called out to his dog. The well was quiet and no sign of the Tuqtuq. The beast was still in hiding.

“Go!” I rushed the man as he propped himself up on the wagon and took the reins.

“Wait, Lionheart!” Yaseen tried to jump off but I stopped him, shoving him back into Rabia’s lap.

“Forget the donkey. Go!”

“You’re not coming?” Rabia asked. I couldn’t see her expression in the dark but she sounded surprised. Does she take you for a coward?

But the truth was, I was surprising myself. “Give me the spear,” I said, taking the weapon from beside the boy.

“Why aren’t you coming?” Yaseen said.

“The beast needs to die before it gets hungry again.” I couldn’t see it ending any other way. As long as the Tuqtuq lived, Yaseen was in danger.

“The cavaliers will come—“

“Nobody’s coming around this late and if it gives chase… it’s over.”

Rabia pushed herself in front of the struggling boy. The wagon lurched forward. “I’m turning around,” the milkman yelled.

Rabia leaned forward, “It’s best you die here,” she whispered to me. Madwoman.

“Take care of the boy,” I said but she was too far away now, her dark hair still hiding her features in the evening light. She trapped Yaseen in a tight hug so he couldn’t jump out.

“Munqidh,” he cried. “Save Lionheart!”

***

There were splinters on the spear shaft, digging into my palm as I studied the quiet well. Taking my sword, I scraped down the wood and listened for any movement. The hound had left and the beast had no intention of leaving the safety of the well. If it hadn’t reacted to noise, I’d have to disturb it myself.

Oddly enough, my mind was calm and my thoughts wandered with memories of Yaruq, the way he had looked past me as I strode up to him. So real. His larger helmet had dark slits but I could see his determined eyes. Tired eyes. He was tired and you saw it.

“Balak,” he had called to me and it felt as if he was talking to someone else. But that was my memory; the last moments of Yaruq as he gave me a chance to submit and surrender. A chance to join his fanatic vision, with him as the new patriarch of Shaam. In that exchange, I’d felt his desperation… the tiredness in his voice. And that’s what I’d thought of in that moment—his susceptibility to a drawn out spar.

The next moments were intimate, and yet so foreign. I struck down the large man. The blade I held now— the same steel that had drawn his blood— holding this same weapon in my hands now, felt like a dream. But you were there, Balak, weren’t you?

“Munqidh,” I whispered. Hearing my new name shook me to the present, to the cool night breeze against my skin, and my throbbing leg keeping my breath short. And to the beast that lay in slumber below.

I strode up to the ruined well with both weapons at the ready. It would be completely dark soon; the quicker I finished this, the better.

I peered into the hole and saw a carcass at the bottom, and the Tuqtuq had burrowed a hole on the side of the well, and what looked like a bony tail fell out from it. It wasn’t moving, so the beast was most likely in deep sleep. Good, it needs to be shocked awake. The more agitated the beast when I woke it, the more likely it’ll lash out and climb up.

I slammed the tail as hard as I could. The spearhead was loose and it barely reached, but I saw the tail flick uncomfortably. Leaning over at the hip, I dipped lower, held the spear at the very end and thrust again. This time the point dug into the fleshy part of the tail and with a flash of movement, the snarling beast was crawling out of the hole.

Nearly tipping over at the sudden movement, I posted the spear on the opposite side of the well and pushed away, landing on my back as my legs gave away. The pain was still there.

I brushed myself off and watched the cursed animal to crawl out of its pit. “You’ll find no rest in there,” I kicked a few rocks towards it to maintain its aggression. The Tuqtuq responded with a defensive swipe. It hunted weak prey only, and was only in this fight for survival. At the same time though, it had to have smelt my wound.

The feline-serpent whipped forward with unnatural speed and I was too slow. It had taken every ounce of will for me not to step back at the beast’s sudden lunge at my spear.

“I’m not the prey here, you are,” I said, jabbing the spear at its face. Stay calm, don’t show weakness. A few knocks on the forehead and it retreated. I had him trapped or at least feeling trapped. But if I pushed too much, it might decide to hide again.

I backed away to lure it some more, and it turned into a stumble. The animal’s instincts kicked in and it couldn’t resist. Another jab to face and she snarled at my attempts to fight back. The Tuqtuq finally charged, ignoring my spear, which I dug desperately into her scaly neck with no effect.

With my spear caught in her limbs, I flailed wildly with my sword arm, hacking, hammering away at her skull with the sword. It cracked through her scales.

She finally twisted out from the spear shaft with her face bloodied, the dark blue liquid falling over her serpentine eyes. I tried to manage a snarl, hoping the scream would keep it away for a moment. It’s bleeding.

The blighted cat circled me, dripping it’s dark liquid. The spear was broken, so I thew it away. My fingers had failed to clutch it properly anyways. The blue blood, now a shiny black in the night blotched the dirt ground. I heard movement behind and my heart dropped. Yaseen.

The Tuqtuq’s jerk confirmed what I’d feared. “Yaseen?” I called.

Yaseen stumbled out of the bushes, “It’s almost de—”

The beast charged.

I swiped the blade close enough for the animal to veer away from the boy and pounce on me instead. I fell to the ground again with excruciating pain across my leg and chest as the cat flailed wildly. I protected my face, smelling only ash and the iron. I felt the claws finally tear my forearm but it quickly stopped.

The blighted cat went limp the next moment, dropping its full weight on my chest. I rolled to the side, and the body turned over, a crossbow bolt sticking halfway into the back of its skull, coming out of its eye socket.

I looked over to Yaseen to find him helping Rabia with a crossbow. He held it down as the woman used both her hands to cock the weapon again.

“It’s dead,” I said, moving to face them, unsure if I could stand anymore, my body drenched with the Tuqtuq’s blood.

“Are you sure?” Rabia lifted the crossbow again, aiming clear at me.

“Yes,” I said, “put that down.”

“Sorry,” Rabia replied, “Are you alright?”

“I don’t think so.”

***