He tries to lift him up, hoping to take him quickly for treatment. But as he holds him in his arms, the wounded man cries out in pain. Gasping, he says through clenched teeth, "Shehzadi... you stay with him. I'll be back soon—I'm going to bring help."
They weren't too far from the city—close enough that Qasim starts running, ignoring the stabbing pain in his own hand. His wound burns with every step, but he pushes forward, desperate. When he reaches the city gates, two guards stand watch. He rushes toward them and shouts, "Quick! Follow me! I need help!"
The guards look at him, startled, and one of them points out, "But Commander... blood is pouring from your hand!"
Qasim, his eyes blazing with urgency and frustration, barks, "Do what I said! One of you stay here. The other—come with me. Now!"
He leads one of the soldiers toward Yousif, who is barely conscious. As the soldier approaches, he notices a girl beside the injured man.
The soldier turns to Qasim and asks hesitantly, "Am I right in thinking... is she the princess? Or someone else?"
Qasim confirms, "Yes, it's her. That's Shehzadi. But first, take him. Take him now for treatment. I'll take Shehzadi back to the palace myself."
The soldier nods, obedient. "As you command, sir." He carefully lifts Yousif and begins heading toward the city, while Qasim gently helps the princess walk beside him.
As they enter the city, people turn to stare. Whispers ripple through the crowd when they see the familiar masked figure—injured, barely able to stand.
"We told them!" someone mutters. "We said the path was cursed. But no—he thought he knew better. Look what happened. Dead now, isn't he?"
Qasim doesn't respond to their murmurs. Instead, he yells with urgency, "Take him quickly! He needs medical help!"
But the attention soon shifts. People begin noticing who walks beside him—Princess Maryam.
"She's returned?" they whisper in disbelief. "That's Shehzadi Maryam!"
But then, a darker tone enters the voices. "She came back alive, but he didn't. He risked everything—for gold. Took the dangerous route just for some dinars. Now that he's dead, what good are riches?"
Hearing all this, Shehzadi Maryam's eyes flash with anger. She opens her mouth, ready to speak—but Qasim steps in front of her. He raises his eyes gently, motioning with a look not to speak just yet.
Softly, he says, "Shehzadi... this isn't the time. You should go inside the palace now. Your father is waiting. Please."
But Maryam's fury has boiled over. "So you are the commander? The guards were calling you Qasim! Then it's true—you betrayed Yousif. You are nothing but a vile man. A traitor!"
Qasim listens quietly, lowering his gaze. Her words pierce him deeply, but he says nothing.
"I don't want to see your face in the palace. Ever again!" she snaps. "I know my way. I grew up here—I'm not a child. I can find my way without you."
Qasim responds with painful calm, "As you wish, Shehzadi."
She turns away, storming toward the palace. From the opposite direction, Usman appears. The moment he spots her, recognition flashes across his face. He quickly calls a guard. "Escort the princess."
But Maryam refuses flatly. "No need. I said I can go myself."
Usman backs off respectfully. "As you say."
Then Usman steps out further and spots Qasim standing nearby, blood dripping from his hand. He marches toward him, anger boiling in his voice.
"Where were you all this time?" he demands. "Now that you're a commander, you think you can make your own rules? Do you even realize what happened here today? Of course not—you weren't even here!"
His eyes fall on the blood. "And what's this? Why are you bleeding?"
Qasim remains silent, letting Usman finish his scolding. Once there's a pause, he speaks quietly, "I was on a mission... one given by Abdullah Sir. It was confidential."
Usman grabs him angrily by the front of his clothes. "What kind of mission? What could be more important than Shehzadi Nayab?"
Qasim freezes. His expression changes completely. For a moment, he forgets to breathe. Then, his voice comes out shaken, "More important? What... what are you saying?"
Usman growls, "First, go treat that wound. Then come to me and explain everything."
Qasim, holding his anger back, demands again, "What did you mean? More important than Nayab? Answer me!"
But Usman's frustration ignites him too. "I won't disgrace you in front of everyone. Just do as I say!"
That's the final spark. Qasim's rage explodes. He grabs Usman by the collar, lifting him into the air. "I asked what you meant!" he roars.
People gasp and back away. Blood gushes from Qasim's hand as he clenches it. Usman struggles to break free—but something shifts in Qasim. He suddenly blinks, realizing what he's done.
He sets Usman down gently, guilt flooding his eyes. "Forgive me... I don't know what came over me."
Without another word, he rushes to the healer, gets his hand bandaged, then comes running back toward Usman.
Panting, he asks desperately, "Now tell me—what happened? Is Shehzadi Nayab... is she alright?"
Usman slaps him—hard. Qasim stands still, stunned into silence.
"You've been given too much freedom," Usman mutters bitterly. "My brother trusted you too much."
Qasim swallows his anger, speaking softly, "Please. Just tell me. What happened to her?"
Usman's voice breaks. "She... she fell from the roof. She's in critical condition."
The words strike Qasim like a blade. His chest tightens; his breath comes in short gasps. He staggers, then drops to the ground, sitting in stunned silence.
He murmurs to himself, "Why did I go away from you, Nayab? Why didn't I stay with you? How will I ever face you now? You were in pain... and I wasn't there."
Blaming himself, he remembers—Abdullah Sir. Maybe he knows how it all happened. Maybe he'll allow him to see her.
Suddenly hopeful, Qasim jumps to his feet and begins running again—toward answers. Toward her.
But before he can reach, a figure suddenly blocks his path. Without warning, something hard strikes Qasim on the head.
He collapses instantly. Blood trickles from his mouth as he lies motionless.
A shadowy figure grabs him by the legs and begins dragging him away.
Blood smears across the stone floor behind him. A chilling trail is left behind—clear and undeniable.
Someone had been taken.
And now, Qasim had disappeared too.
.
.
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Question for readers?
Who wanted to kill Qasim and who Wanted to killed him with a heavy thing Will Qasim survive and what will happened with qasim stay tuned ...
Written By
Sabir Ali
Thanks For reading
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