❝My love will drown you to the depths of the sea.❞
Furat bin Kiyan, the fleet admiral of Al Andalus, is a spy and a rebel on a mission to kill the caliph of Cordoba and claim the throne for himself. But finds himself in trouble at the hands of Rahaf...
I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me.
- Jorge Luis Borges
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February, 952 Gharnatah, Al Andalus (Granada, Andalusia)
THE SNOW IS falling. The sky is embracing heavy gray clouds above them as far as the eye can see. Their horses trot through the white mountains against the strong winds and chilling weather towards the city. Before evening, they'll arrive at the palace of Granada.
The caliph rides at the front with his general to his right. Furat rides close behind them. The rest of the men surround them as the group moves together. They're not many in number but he's aware that what appears to the eye is just a ploy and the caliph is prepared for whatever Kanan has planned for them.
This is a seemingly clear opportunity for Kanan to strike and try to get rid of Aswad bin Motassem. If he doesn't act, Furat will have to devise more such opportunities for him and he really doesn't want to waste anymore time to this. He has other matters to scheme about, like the Amira who is his key to the throne.
That exasperatingly stubborn woman is testing him to the best of his abilities. He's not a rake nor is he a charmer like Rouzbeh, but it isn't that he lacks experience in the field absolutely. Though he might be rusty and never had any serious relationships in the past, he has been with women before. Yet Rahaf is proving more difficult to him than his expectations.
He curses under his breath as they arrive at the palace of Granada without any trouble, where the governor and all the officials are waiting to welcome them. Foolish Kanan, he thinks, hoping he has a plan to kill Aswad that will lead to his own demise or they'd have traveled all the way from Cordoba to Granada for nothing. He could rather have used this time trying to woo that iron-willed sister of the caliph and availed that chance of rising in ranks for the throne.
"Marhaba!"
They're greeted and a man dressed in lavish clothes comes forward to take the horse of Aswad bin Motassem who dismounts it, followed by the rest of the men including Furat.
"Zurarah," The caliph greets the man who smiles warmly at him.
"Welcome to Gharnatah, my Ameer."
"Thank you."
Another man steps forward, this time an elderly one with gray beard and a turban on his head, dressed as lavishly as the other one if not more.
"Ameer Hirash."
Aswad bin Motassem tips his head both in greeting and respect, and Furat gathers that his status or relationship might be of special importance to the caliph.
"Ameer Aswad." The man gives him the same warm smile as the younger one gave him before.
