Abdul ran through the Hallows as fast as his legs would carry him. He was running cross-country, fleeing the ‘Als slave hunters who chased him. Three days ago, Abdul killed his master with a kitchen knife and made his bid for freedom. The slave hunters were relentless. The blood of an ‘Als noble had been spilled, and they would do everything in there power to make sure that blood is repaid. For once it was good th ing that Abdul had no family, because if he had they surely would have been butchered by now. That was the ‘Als way. Every slave toed the line, knowing that if they ran their family would be slaughtered. Their deaths probably would have been slow. Because of this no slave dared to escape unless it was organized by the Sisters of Sirona, or those few ‘Als noblemen who managed to hold on to their humanity. The torchlight of the slavers could barely be seen in the distance, mere pinpricks of fire in the night. They were gaining on him.
Abdul ran faster, ducking to avoid a low hanging branch. Barely clearing a jagged rock in his path he landed off balance, twisting his ankle. Abdul let out a yelp, unable to completely stifle the pain. The voices of the slavers immediately carried through the eerily silent forest, “Over there! I heard something over there!” Then “That filthy maggot, he’ll wish he’d never been born!” Though Abdul’s mind was too preoccupied with the pain to pay them any attention. This was worse than any sprain he’d had before. He must have torn something. There was no way he could outrun them anymore, but he had to try.
Climbing up the tree trunk, Abdul gingerly stood on his good foot. ‘Right, then left. Right, then left,’ he repeated this mantra in his0Ahead, hoping it would give him the strength to go on. Abdul made it five paces before slipping on a loose rock. He crashed to the ground in a heap. Pure agony shot up his left leg from his ankle. It hurt even worse now than before. He’d never make it. Abdul looked up at the moon. It was full. The rays of light shined on him through the tree branches as if to point a finger at him and say, ‘Look, I found him!’ He could see the torches coming closer now. There was no hope.
Suddenly, Abdul heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. A jolt of fear shot through him as a low, outstretched hand protruded from the bush. A whisper, “Quick, hide here.” Abdul crawled on all fours towards the hand. Closing the five feet not as rapidly as he wanted to, Abdul whispered back, “Who are you?”
The bush said, “No time for questions,” and the hand grabbed him. It pulled him through the bush and down into a subterranean, pitch black cavern. His ankle slammed against the wall. The hand covered Abdul’s mouth before his cry escaped him.
Heavy footsteps could be heard above. They slowed from a run to a brisk walk. A youthful voice said, “I don’t see him.” Even though the0Athick bush blocked most of it, a tiny sliver of torchlight made its way into the fugitives’ cavern. In the shadowy light, Abdul could make out a tall figure standing in front of him. This figure wore the robes of ‘Als nobility. Interupting Abdul’s shock was an older, gruffer voice from above, “Keep going. We’ll catch up to him soon. Keep your spears ready!” The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard once again, this time growing ever fainter.
The figure went to his knee to be level with Abdul, who could still not make out his features. The figure spoke slowly, calmly. His voice conveyed a certainty of knowing. It was a belief which radiated from him and seemed to say he was the master of all things. The center of life. He had the authority of a god about him, yet the compassionate empathy of a lowly priest, a healer. Speaking the language of the Halluchuirp with a thick ‘Als accent he said, “Greetings, my friend. I am Ras’ul Ibn Musa of House Crylasi. The Lady of Wisdom has guided me to you.”
Abdul, astonished at what he was hearing, could only stammer out, “M-me?”
“Yes. You. Tell me about yourself and I shall tend to your ankle.” Ras’ul ripped off a strip of cl oth from the bottom of his robes and began to bandage Abdul’s ankle, which had swollen to the size of a small grapefruit.
Taking heart at the thought of a god taking an interest in him, yet still hesitant to confess his crime he said, “My name is Abdul Nabi. I was a slave. Now I am not.”
Even though he could not see in the darkness of the cavern, it sounded like a smile had crept onto Ras’ul’s face as he said, “That is a rather simple story. You must be exceedingly fortunate to have such a simple life.”
“There is more to the story. If you must know, I am hunted by men who thirst for nothing but my blood. I killed my master, three days ago. They hunt me because I am a murderer.”
“And why did you kill your master? Was he an especially cruel man?”
“He was…” Abdul tried not to relive the awful memories of the past week. “He had me chained, and had my woman. Then killed her. All to spite me for stopping him from whipping a child.”
“Your cause was just. Revenge is natural. It heals the soul. There, I am finished. Your injury will take much time to heal.” Ras’ul climbed out of the cavern. He reached back down, “Take my hand.” Abdul did, and the robed man pulled him up out of the darkness. In the light of the full moon, Abdul could see his savior’s face. He was awestruck by what he saw. This was the face of a man touched by fate. Never had Abdul seen anyone who radiated such raw power, yet emanating with that power was an aura which filled Abdul with an inner peace. It was almost unnatural. Ras’ul, breaking the silence, spoke again, “Ordinarily I would tell you to stay off of your foot, but you have much walking to do before getting to Freetown.”
Resolutely Abdul said, “It is a burden I will endure. You are a very strange man, Ras’ul.” As he bent down to grab a walking stick off the forest floor he went on, “You heal like one of the blessed Sisters, but have the regal bearing of a nobleman of the ‘Als. More, even. Where do you come from?” Grabbing a particularly knotted stick, Abdul noticed that the cloth his bandage was ripped from came from his own breeches. A thought occurred to him, “And don’t you mean ‘we’?” But whe n Abdul looked up, the mysterious man was gone.