The Sound of Ruin

The morning light had barely crept across the stone floor as Aneesa arched her body beneath Tariq, whose hands held tightly to her hips as he entered her from behind, pressing deeply into her as her breath caught on a gasp. Tariq moved with controlled fire, his eyes rolling as he held his head up to the sky as if to thank the heavens. Their bodies creating a lustful rhythm together with all restraint now finally undone.

"Tariq…I," Anessa moaned.

"Yes…yes. Give yourself to me. I want to feel..." Tariq growled before being abruptly interrupted.

CLANG

A bell rang.

A deep, bone-shaking clang that echoed through the palace walls.

Low. Distant. Hollow.

Tariq froze, and Aneesa turned to look at him. For a split second, frustration covered his face before he pulled out and scrambled to dress.

CLANG

Aneesa sat upright in bed, heart already pounding as she registered the second bell. Beside her, Tariq was already clothed in a robe thrown over bare skin, a dagger sheathed at his side. 

"It's not the city gate," he said. "That bell's from inside."

Aneesa clutched the sheets. "What does it mean?"

Another clang quickly followed. It was urgent.

Tariq crossed the room to the window. "Scouts, maybe. Or a breach. It means something's wrong."

Aneesa rose and hurriedly began to dress; her heart was racing, and her thoughts were already elsewhere.

Not on the bell. Not on the threat, but worried about the scroll. 

Her mind scrambled back to the last time she saw it, before she left the harem, before the Malika's summons. It had been hidden, folded, and tucked inside the lining of her indigo robe. One that was never brought to her, but she hadn't noticed until now.

Her chest tightened. "Tariq," she said, worried. "I left something behind." 

"What?" he said without turning his gaze from the window.

"An important scroll. Coded. Hidden in my old robe. It's not in the belongings."

His eyes snapped to hers. 

"You think someone has it?" 

"I think someone found it." 

He cursed under his breath and ushered her out of the chamber door. "Come," he said. "I'll assign you a guard." 

-----

As Tariq hurriedly entered the war room, the Sultan's voice was a low growl above the tense murmurs of his advisors. 

"An army moves toward Andalusia," one said. "With Christian banners. They've crossed the eastern pass."

"That pass should be sealed," the Sultan barked. "Who gave them the opening?"

Silence.

Tariq's eyes silently scanned the faces in the room as he sat beside his father, but the glances that followed were full of quiet accusation. 

Someone had betrayed them of this, he was certain, but who?

------

Aneesa returned to the harem under escort, the palace bells still echoing in the distance as couriers ran past like startled birds. 

Zaynah barely looked at her as she entered, too consumed by the alarms and the escalating worry that had taken over the concubines. 

Aneesa didn't wait for permission. She crossed the courtyard to her former chamber, heart hammering, and began to search. 

It was gone. 

The robe. The scroll. Any trace of what Aneesa had hidden. 

She turned and then froze in horror. Jahima stood in the doorway, holding the scroll like a page from a holy book, her long fingers curling around the edges. 

"Looking for this?" she asked condescendingly. 

Aneesa stepped forward. "Give it to me." 

Jahima tilted her head. "You're clever, I'll give you that. But foolish to leave secrets tucked in soiled silk. Someone might think you were hiding something." 

"I was hiding it for The Malika." 

"Oh?" Jahima's eyes glittered. "And do you think she'll believe you when I tell her you were the one caught clutching a document coded in Latin? One linked to treason?"

"You wouldn't dare." 

"Oh, I will," Jahima snapped. "Unless, of course, you'd like to trade it for something. Say…" 

Aneesa lunged at her in a fit of rage. Jahima shrieked and stumbled back, the scroll clutched to her chest, as she turned and ran into the open courtyard, her bare feet slapping against the stone. 

"Stop at once!" Aneesa shouted. Jahima spun to face her, lips curled, and slapped Anessa hard across the cheek.

"You're a liar!" Jahima shouted in an effort to cause a scene

But Aneesa didn't hesitate. She shoved Jahima hard, unleashing an anger she had suppressed for too long. The two women collided to the ground, tearing at each other. 

The courtyard gasped as onlookers rushed to the fringes, their eyes wide at the spectacle. 

Then there was deafening silence followed by a commanding voice.

"Enough." 

It cut through the air like a blade, and both women froze where they had fallen, tangled in silks and bruised pride. 

The Malika stood beneath the colonnade, draped in dark violet silk and gold, flanked by guards. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze was unforgiving. 

"Both of you," she said. "Now." 

The guards moved forward and lifted both women to their feet, dragging them in the direction the Malika was now walking.

------

The Malika's private chamber was colder than expected, not in temperature, but in presence.

It was a room of silks and shadows, arched windows veiled with lattice, and a scent of crushed rose and iron. Two guards flanked the entrance, unmoving. A low table divided the room, behind which the Malika sat like a judge at trial.

Her gaze swept over Aneesa's torn robe, Jahima's bruised lip, and the tension hanging between them like smoke.

Aneesa stood tall despite the bruise forming on her cheek, and Jahima's hair was wild as she held her lip, which was bleeding slightly where she had been struck.

The torn scroll rested on the table between them. The pieces were gathered with care, and its contents were still half-legible.

"You were entrusted with a place in the harem," the Malika said slowly, eyes on Jahima. "And now you sit before me covered in dust, accusing one under my protection."

Jahima stepped forward, breath heaving. "She's been hiding that and other scrolls, notes in cipher. She's also been sleeping with your son and…"

The Malika raised one hand.

Jahima's mouth went dry.

Then, with slow precision, she opened the scroll. Her eyes flicked down the page. Symbols. Margins annotated—half-translated warnings of an impending breach.

Her jaw flexed.

"You found this in her room?" she asked.

"Yes," Jahima said, triumphant.

"Do you know what it means?"

"No, but…"

"I gave Aneesa those scrolls," the Malika said. "I tasked her with their decoding. What she found may determine the survival of this palace. And you…"

She leaned forward. "You tore it apart over envy."

"She's seducing the prince!" Jahima shouted.

"She's preserving the kingdom," the Malika responded as she stood.

Jahima bent at the waist, arms swept to her side, a bow born of both fear and reverence.

The Malika turned her gaze on Aneesa. "Did you keep this from me?"

"No," Aneesa said, falling into sujūd, not from fear, but from the solemn vow she gave to the Tariq. Her forehead nearly touching the polished stone floor.

"It's one of the scrolls you gave me. I hadn't yet delivered the translation, I was…"

"Hush," the Malika silenced her.

Aneesa looked up, and the Malika motioned her to rise as she studied her for the truth.

Then the Malika turned, calm again, to the guards at the doorway.

"Please escort Jahima from the harem." 

The guards moved instantly, seizing her arms.

"Stop!" Jahima cried. "I can still help you! I know people! Foreign traders who've whispered of.."

The Malika swiftly walked over to Jahima as the Guard held her firm in her grasp and leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"You have overstepped your station. Laid hands on one under royal protection. Threatened the security of my family, and now you claim allegiance to foreign whispers?"

Jahima paled, and the Malika turned her back against her with fury in her eyes.

"Strip her of title," she said. "And remove her from the palace."

"What?" Jahima choked. "You're choosing her?"

"I'm choosing silence," the Malika said. "You've turned a private war into a public spectacle. If you will not use your mind or your body, you're no longer useful."

Jahima reeled back, her eyes filled with fury and disbelief, but she was already being led away before she could speak.

Aneesa stood motionless, chest heaving, barely believing what had just happened.

The Malika snapped her fingers.

"There is no more time for bewilderment child, we must go to the Sultan at once."