Between the Grapevines

12. Itna 'Ashar

Miles away, in the peace that surrounded another camp, Harakat sat across from Amer in the main tent with a chessboard between them. She much preferred Amer's company over any of the other men. Kader was too reserved and Farhan was too confrontational. The youngest of the group offered a perfect balance between the two.

"If you move the queen this way, you'll checkmate my queen," he tried to advise her. But the passive glare she directed at him told Amer that Harakat knew well enough not to fall into his trap. If his queen was vulnerable then hers became equally threatened.

Farhan didn't bother to glance toward their ongoing game when he stepped into the space, making his usual beeline for his desk. He carried three black folders lightened by dust stains at his side and an ink pen that hung from the low-cut collar of his shirt. Harakat watched him in silence, wondering if his age made him appear so old or if it was the lack of any kindness that weighed down his features. Even when he dropped onto his seat and began surfing through the sheets of paper, Farhan didn't glance in her direction once. But it was clear he knew she was there.

Harakat only looked away when Amer had made his move, shifting his pale bishop into a square three blocks diagonal of her knight. He narrowed his eyes at her and smirked a villainous smirk, believing himself to have come into a move powerful enough to rid him of the last soldier protecting her king. Harakat glanced over the board and moved her knight from the place it had been sitting in the entire time to eat the bishop.

"Wha-!" Amer exclaimed. When he realized his mistake, he brought his raised hands down on his knees and huffed in disappointment. "Whatever. The bishops are useless anyway."

She raised her eyebrow and pointed at the victorious knight standing in front of her. Her words silent but understood as they reached Amer. "The knight is useless, too. The only good pieces are the queen and these nameless guys at the corner. I've only used them against Hamza and Kader and won every time," he admitted proudly.

"Amer," Farhan's emotionless voice cut through their conversation. Amer craned his head to turn back toward the man and hum in response. "The phone is ringing in the first tent. Go find out who's calling and report to me. Don't engage in conversation, just get their name and reason for calling while I finish up these files."

With a silent frown, Amer told Harakat to make her move while he returned and shot up, racing quickly out of the open tent and toward the other one. Across the open space, Harakat narrowed her eyes when she made eye contact with a bored Kader, who sat beside the third tent after having been assigned Hamza's duties for the day. His eyebrows lowered for a brief moment as if he couldn't quite see her then, when he recognized her, Kader raised his hand to politely wave.

"Have you remembered anything?" Farhan asked. She turned back to him to find the man watching her closely over the frame of the small round glasses he'd worn to do his work. It made his eyes smaller through the lenses but somehow more intimidating when he looked over them as he did now.

Harakat shook her head.

Farhan sighed deeply. "Of course, you haven't. Don't get too comfortable in that apartment with Riyad, you understand me? He is a member of a force that is always in danger and you... are a girl who knows nothing of the world or herself."

She frowned at the statement, her lips curling unkindly in response to Farhan's tone. "If my words upset you then there is truth to them. It is safest for all of us if you remember where you've come from and go back to that place, especially for Riyad and yourself. Work like ours comes with many risks and the longer you stay close, the more danger you put yourself in."

His expression shifted and, for the briefest of moments, Harakat realized that Farhan's words might not be meant as condescending as they sounded. He avoided her gaze when he warned her of the danger. Harakat was familiar with that habit of men that forced their gazes away when they said something that might make them appear to actually care, as if they couldn't bare the vulnerability.