Fight for the Heir: Chapter Two

(This story might not be suitable for Children under ten.)

Janan lost sense of time. She had not stopped weeping, but she got up and started back to where there were tracks in the soft dirt in the ground. She stooped down to look at the hoof prints and the direction they were going. Then she stood up again, looked around, and saw that the tracks led into the forest. She walked to the edged of the forest and looked in. The forest was silent as she slowly entered. She tried as best she could not to lose her sense of direction. She walked, and then came to an open spot in the forest where she saw a man, lying with his ear on the ground. The man quickly turned towards her and gave her an evil glare. Janan started to back away, but the man jumped to his feet and rushed at her. She gave a gasp when she saw that the man was missing an arm. He grabbed her wrists, and try as she might, she could not get free.
Janan heard a soft noise behind her, and at the same instant, the man threw her to the ground, drawing a small knife out of its scabbard. Though dazed from hitting her head on a stump, Janan could make out a small shape of someone dressed in a green cloak, fighting with the man missing an arm.
The younger man, though weaker than the other, had a more skillful blade and, also, a more alert mind.
Janan saw out of the corner of her eye something move. Slowly, she turned her head to see what it was. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked into the face of Latavia. “What has happen here?” she whispered, sitting up.
“One of Qudir’s men, Malik, followed us,” sighed Latavia. “He caught me and was coming back for thee.”
“Who has saved us?”
“Bibi, son of Callah.”
Janan then realized that Callah sent Bibi to follow them to see them safely home, and now he was in danger of losing his life.
Malik and Bibi fought fiercely. Though Malik only had one arm, he fought as thought he had two. Bibi gave a shout and rammed his hilt into the side of Malik, which sent him sprawling. Bibi stood for a moment over his enemy with a chance to run him through, but he did not. He kicked the ground, sending dust into the eyes and mouth of Malik. “Get up,” Bibi grunted, backing away. Malik razed himself to his feet. Again, the battle went on.
Bibi was thrown on the ground with his head, and Malik twisted his arm backwards. Bibi gave a scream. Then, Bibi, with all his might, tried to twist back his sword arm. Malik only laughed at his attempts. Bibi could feel his arm twist and hear it crack to where he could not bare the pain. Malik twisted it backwards, dislocating the shoulder and breaking the upper arm. Then from out of nowhere, a rock came flying and struck Malik on the head.
Malik wavered. He stood as frozen in fear. Bibi, seeing his chance, jumped to his feet and kicked Malik in the abdomen. Malik came thundering back, cursing. They fought on with Bibi being weaker than before and a little clumsy fighting with his left arm. Malik grabbed Bibi’s good arm and pined him to the tree using the strength of his body. Malik had the knife in his hand and was aiming for Bibi’s throat. Bibi stared at his useless right arm, and then at his good arm, wishing that he had not fallen.
“My master said injure, not kill.” Malik had the knife in his hand and was pressing it into Bibi’s throat.
“So would thee disobey thy master?” asked Bibi, fiercely.
“I think not.”
“Then break my other arm”
“That would not suffice,” Malik replied, twisting his arm a little bit. Bibi yelled, but again Malik only laughed. Then he smiled an ugly grin. “You must lose an arm.” So saying, he hacked at Bibi’s shoulder socket. Bibi, thinking this was the end, said a prayer. Malik then drove the knife into Bibi’s shoulder. Bibi slumped to the ground. Malik stood gloating over his victim. However, something happened that Malik did not intend. A branch from one of the surrounding trees, crashed down onto his head, knocking him senseless to the ground.
“That ought to serve thee well!” shouted Janan in his ear. “Quick. We must get Bibi home!”
“How? There is still more than a league from home,” Latavia said, startled. “Wait. I will make a Litter. We will get him home by dragging him!”
So saying, Latavia ran off into the thick of the forest. Meanwhile, Janan did her best to rouse Bibi. “Bibi, does thou not hear me?”
“Janan. I need the knife. Hast thou already pulled it out?” Latavia gasped.
“Yes, I threw it over by that tree,” said Janan, pointing over at a maple.
When Latavia picked it up she trembled, for this was the first weapon that she had ever held. The thought of how many people that it had killed made her wish she had never touched it, but she had to make a litter. Then like a deer, she darted back into the thicket.
“Bibi?” said Janan, with her soft green eyes full of tears. Then she ripped the bottom of her green gown and put it around Bibi’s bleeding shoulder.
“Janan, look!” said Latavia, coming to stand by her.
“A horse!” Janan cried, petting the white horse. “Latavia, where did thou find him?”
“I found him tethered to a nearby tree.”
“Come. Let us get Prince Bibi on the litter.”