The wind swirled about Aliyah’s exposed body and the stones beneath her feet were hot. She was naked but for the chains which bound her hands and feet and the slave collar locked around her neck. She was a warrior of the sands, the spear and the whip of the shah, but now she was a slave as well.
The Man who had so humbled her was a viper of a warrior. Slim yet strong, fluid yet rigid at an instant. She had almost escaped. She had grinned as she leapt towards the window, past which her horse waited to carry her from the doomed city. She had abandoned her post in the besieged capital, broken her oaths to her lord and master, but she cared not. Long ago she had learned that dishonorable acts were the only way to save herself from the grievances of the world.
But she had not bounded through the window, she had not rode away on a stallion to the desert. Mid leap a hand had seized her hair. She had screamed her outrage as he dragged her away from escape. So close and so far away.