Chapter 2: "Immoral Games"

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Karma!

Salma massaged her temples with her left hand while frantically clicking at a pen with the right. She was getting sick with anger and worry. Her fingers dug into her scalp, grabbing a handful of her hair as the voice in her head drove her madder.

No! Salma replied firmly, but to no avail.

You turned him down. Her subconscious shrugged, continuing its annoying diatribe, and now he'll take you down. Karma's serving that sweet and sour when it's stale and frozen cold--

Zayn doesn't have the galls to take me down! Salma gritted her teeth. And if that cow, Karma, actually existed, the world would have been a better place!

What do you call this then? You end up needing the one man you wanted to avoid?

A test, she concluded, throwing the pen away and getting up. This is a test.

It took Salma a while to realize she had stepped into the bathroom and turned the tap on. Sighing, she splashed some water onto her face.

The girl in the mirror stared back at her, her brown eyes fuming, dark brown hair disheveled and face pale. She was angry. She had no choice. She had to either humiliate herself or lose?

Her mind flashed back to when they reached home after the court session the previous day. They were all tired but mentally relaxed, looking forward to a quick lunch and a siesta. Until they turned to their driveway, that is. A black range-rover parked in the driveway greeted them with the promise of an impending doom.

Unease crept up Salma's back the moment she saw the two men. They were dressed in traditional Sthooriy attire; black woollen coats, called Chugha, with the Tor Gul emblem of a squawking hawk woven on its breast in silver, a black cloak, or Saader piled on their shoulders, and donning traditional hats or Pakol on their heads. If their exotic uniform and bushy handle-bar mustaches were anything to go by, then two of the Tor Mahal's royal guards were standing in wait by her door.

The sight was as unnerving as it could get, until they saw a third man seated on their steps. Everyone straight out panicked.

"Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilaihi Rajoon!" The whisper escaped Salma's lips as several frightened gasps were heard in the small space of the car.

Light hair, piercing, cold grey eyes of a hungry, preying predator. He was definitely a Tor Gul.

"Alright," her father's leveled voice interrupted her frozen state, as Uncle Dawood parked the car. Salma forced her eyes away from the scary-looking Tor Gul men to her father sitting in the front. "No body is allowed to panic. Keep your nerves or you'll face worse than whatever crap they're about to throw at us."

Salma's eyes did a double-take when he suddenly smiled brightly and turned to the men, undoing his seatbelt.

"Wah, wah! Toryal, Pa khayr, Pa khayr!" he greeted the man sitting on the step.

Uncle Dawood followed suit. The two brothers hurried out of the car with mock enthusiasm, each with their arms spread wide, and big smiles feigning an excited surprise. The rest of them exchanged quick shocked glances in the car. Salma realized she wasn't the only one spooked senseless. Everyone else seemed just as pale as her.

"C'mon Will!" Asim urged William, hurrying to unbuckle his belt. "We need to keep up with the act."

"What do I say?" Will asked urgently.

"'Kaka, Pa Khayr!" Asim replied opening his door.

"Which means?"

"Welcome uncle!' he whispered back and got out.

"Is it Pa Kayr?"

Salma sighed and facepalmed. Will really needs to work on his Pukhto!

"Bro, just smile and offer your hand with a Salam."

The three ladies knew the protocol. Stay in. Stay out of sight. Tor Guls did not consider a woman's presence among men necessary or dignified. Salma rolled her eyes. She was sorely tempted to jump out of the car and pull a few monkey moves on her way into her house to see the Tor Gul's reaction, but one, she deemed it unnecessary to create more problems for her dad, and two, Will had just walked back looking disturbed, and Salma realized why.

She caught a glimpse of the light-haired man as he turned, and he had a very familiar looking scar running down his left temple.

A memory struck past Salma's mind. That from a year ago, of a man with a similar hair, similar eyes and a similar scar. Salma's lips parted as she remembered him standing by their tour bus, arguing with the driver about vehicle inspection.

"That guy --"

"He's the one from last year!" Salma interrupted William.

Will turned to look at her. She could see her fear reflected in his green eyes.

"Who are you talking about?" Anne asked.

"Remember last year, after the accident on the bus, I told you I believe there was a guy who must have meddled with the bus's breaking system?" Will replied. "That's him."

"My God . . ." Anne whispered.

"He was dressed as an inspection staff," Will said.

Anne turned to him.

"I recall the FBI agent mentioning a suspicious inspection staff member at the meeting. Why didn't you say so back then?" Anne reprimanded.

"Because . . ." Will glanced at Salma's mother. She was sitting unnaturally silently. Not moving, not blinking. Staring at the man as if cut out of stone. Will sighed. "Because Alley said not to."

Three pairs of eyes trained on Aliya's quiet form.

"You knew?" Salma asked quietly.

"Yes," her mother replied. "The moment Farhiya inquired about your plans for the trip, I knew they would try something. I had never mentioned the trip to her. It was unnerving that she knew. I tried to stop you but you wanted to go. And then the accident happened. It was no coincidence. When the FBI hinted involvement of two unknown men with foreign accents, at least one of which had light hair and electric grey eyes, I knew who the enemy was, so I told you boys to be quiet."

Will let out a breath and slumped back. A silence descended over them as they processed the information her mother had been carrying for over a year.

"Did you tell dad?" Salma asked.

"Of course, I did." Alley replied, sounding slightly annoyed that Salma had to ask something so obvious. Salma mumbled her disagreement. It's not like she was to blame for asking. Her mother had a habit of keeping secrets. "He did some field work and confirmed that Toryal had been in the country and more specifically your university on the day the accident happened."

"Wow!" Anne shook her head, still having trouble digesting the revelation.

Salma turned to the man in question. He seemed to be talking in jest as he grabbed Asim's hand in his own and his shoulder with the other. Poor Dumbo seemed uncomfortable. He had probably realized he was talking to someone who had tried to murder him in cold blood. Despite his uneasy smile, he seemed stiff and looked like he wanted nothing better than to pull away as the man complimented him for being a 'Khashta Zwan" - a good looking young man.

"So everyone just greeted a murderer?" Salma raised a brow, trying to ignore the chill that ran down her spine. "A murderer out for our blood, to be specific?"

"Your father knows what he's doing. He confronts openly when open confrontation is required, and works from the shadows if he has to throw them off-guard," Alley explained. "That man, Toryal." She jutted her chin in his direction. "He's Agha Gul's right hand man. A notorious spy and a very cunning agent. On the surface, he's your father's colleague. It's one serving officer to another. Do you really think it wise for Atif to start an open war when a friend from work pays a visit."

"Friend from work who's about to throw me or my family down a mountain to our deaths? Sure." Will replied. "I would have shot him on sight if I were Uncle Atif."

Anne raised a skeptical brow as she pinned him with a disapproving gaze from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah? And have the rest of us killed? Start a war in a country and play right into their trap. I mean, no problem! Just a few million people murdered and another few million more enslaved by the Tor Guls. No biggie?" Anne snapped.

William rolled his eyes at his mother's scolding.

"Na, nu alaka daa ta da kami?" Salma's father's cheerful voice carried to the car.

The murderer, Toryal, turned to her father, still smiling. He finally let Asim go, who quickly stepped away, heaving an obvious sigh of relief at the distance between the two.

"What did he say?" Will asked.

Although William did not say who he was asking, Salma quickly jumped to do the honours, like she had done for him all their childhood.

"'No, but boy, where did you come from?'" she provided an impromptu translation of what her father had said to Toryal. Translating for Will was a natural arrangement. She didn't even have to process what she was doing.

Toryal said something about flying over to personally pass an invitation from the Tor Mahal. He offered her father a black envelope with silver ornate designs.

"Da sa shi sath?" Uncle Dawood asked. Salma's father frowned, opening the envelope he was given.

Will turned to Salma expectantly.

"Invitation for what?" she translated.

The man smiled. A malicious glint in his eyes made him look like a bloodthirsty predator having located its prey.

"To your daughter's Walima," Toryal replied in a heavily accented english.

"What?!"

Several cries of surprise were heard within, and outside the car. Salma clutched the headrest of the seat in front of her for support. She had broken into cold sweat.

"What the hell did he just say?" Will said in a hushed voice.

No one replied as everyone watched the scarred murderer bask in the fear and shock of his enemies. He was feeding off of their misery, while they grappled with the words that had just left his mouth. Uncle Dawood snatched the black invitation card out of his brother's grasp to read the death-note himself. Asim, who had been staring at Toryal as if he had seen a ghost, turned to read the card over Uncle Dawood's shoulder. Only her father barely reacted.

Atif Rahman just looked grim. Cold. And scary. He studied Toryal silently.

"Agha Gul invites you and Dawood Lala's families to your daughter's Walima," Toryal repeated in his Sthooriy accent. It wasn't hard to guess why he had suddenly switched languages. He wanted all of them to know what he was saying. Including the two non-Sthooriy in the car.

"There's a dirty rumor roaming around the mountains of Sthooriya. People are trying to tear at your honour." He mocked disgust but barely made an attempt to hide his smirk. "Agha Gul will not have it. He extends his full support to his family and will protect the girl's honour by dispelling the rumors with a grand ceremony."

Salma felt another ton of bricks knocking her sanity out.

Rumours? Her honour . . ?

"W- what . . ?" she stuttered. Anne and her mother exchanged panicked glances.

"Agha Gul Will host the ceremony in the prestigious Tor Mahal to honour the new couple."

Everybody paled even more. No one had to use anymore brain cells to understand the game being played. It was all very clear. They knew of her and Zayn's disaster-class of a nikkah.

"When?" Asim asked.

Toryal leered. The friendly pretence was over.

"Agha Gul leaves it to you to decide . . ." Putting on his sunglasses, the man touched his pakol at them in a mock salute. "Agha Gul can't wait to meet the mystery groom."

A full day and a night of crazed exchanges, shouting matches, abrupt, absolutely nuts decisions and impossible-to-accept orders later, here was Salma, in a bathroom glaring at her own reflection, still shocked senseless, still angry and still fighting the urge to pull her hair out.

Well played, old man. Salma clenched her jaw. You seem to know my feelings for the man I married, better than my own father.

The old monster had realized Salma's nikkah was in shambles. Disappearing to Turkey was no longer an option anymore. If she vanished suddenly, her character assassination would continue in Sthooriya. It would further strengthen the belief that the Guardian of the Zamarud was a characterless girl and so she had taken flight like a shameless coward. If she stayed, she would have to explain why she had married and then divorced Zayn on such short notices. Salma knew it would only take weeks for the whole of Sthooriya to know that she had married a man she was lost with in the forest. After which, the Tor Guls just had to watch the fire of the dirty rumors burn her reputation down.

She could not allow that. Salma knew there had to be a way. So far, she had figured they would not let the masses know of her accident and the subsequent stay in the forest, alone with Zayn. If they let that information out and tried to spin it as her having illicit relations with Zayn, her father would most definitely counter-strike with evidence of Toryal trying to murder his children. Although it would not spare Salma the brutal judgement and the cruel gossips, it would at least be a political win if the people don't shift their loyalties to the Tor Guls, if and when, Salma becomes the enemy in their eyes.

However, Salma could not afford to lose their trust either. She personally wanted to be the one who would land the final blow to shatter Agha Gul's wishful dreams of ruling Sthooriya. She had always wanted to avenge her grandparents' deaths by watching the old man burn in his own rage at his failure to become the Grand Chief of Sthooriya yet again.

Problem was, she could not come up with any solution. Other than the one her father offered the previous day which ended up in an argument.

"We're continuing the nikkah," he had told a shocked Salma in his study.

"Dad, what're --"

"We don't have a choice," he interrupted. "You'll have to act the part. I'm going to consult the team and set a date for the Walima in Tor Mahal --"

"This is humiliating! Zayn would never agree!"

"He's already agreed," her father replied, as he continued reading his file. "I called him earlier. It's done."

"What in the world are you talking about!" Salma raised her voice, aghast.

"Salma," her father said in a restrained voice, removing his reading glasses. "I understand it is an unpleasant turn of events --"

"This is madness!" Salma cried. "This is wrong! The legality of the nikkah is already questionable --"

"--We'll redo it--"

"I don't want to marry him!"

"Once the problem is over, you don't need to stay with him!"

"Does he even know that?!"

"He doesn't need to."

Salma just gaped at her father. She could not believe her ears. She knew he was angry and worried but he could not just go with what he was saying. Even if she did not like Zayn, it was unfair to him. He had already been tried by the court and punished. Whether Salma agreed with the punishment being enough or not, he was still fairly convicted.

"Dad, it's wrong. This - this is immoral. To abuse a nikkah like --"

The loud snap of a file shutting close froze her voice chords.

"Unless you can come up with a better solution, you either give up your duty as the Guardian of the Zamarud, or serve the people as per my plan!" the Green Coat snapped. "Do not teach me your moral code for one individual when a couple million people's freedom is at stake, princess. As your father, I love you and protecting you is my first and foremost priority, but as soldier, I serve the Sthooriy. Your wishes and preferences are my command till they threaten the blood oath I took when I was half your age. Don't put me on the spot to choose between my daughter's smile and the people's lives. It's a choice I don't want to make."

Salma's eyes stung. What had the world come to?

She had managed to hold her emotions in long enough to ask her father to give her time to think it through. She realized her father knew what he was doing was wrong, but not having any other options, he was going with it. Like last time, he hoped to used this move to buy time to fast track the plans the Green Coats had to drag Agha Gul legally in Sthooriya's courts.

"How long will that take?" Salma had asked.

Her father pressed his lips together and shook his head as he turned to his file.

"I'm trying to figure out a timeline," he replied. "We are still lacking evidence that can stand in the courts. Which is why I have to decide upon the date for the Walima."

Salma swallowed the lump in her throat. Although Agha Gul had left it to them to decide the date, it was clear he just wanted to see them scuttle like rats in a trap before he pulled the lever. The longer they delayed, the more obvious it would play into his narrative: The nikkah was staged. It was a fake. A cover up.

It was ironic how well Salma was able to understand the old hag's scheme and yet she could not come up with way to counter it. She was getting frustrated.

A loud voice reverberated through the bathroom as her hand came crashing against the soap holder, knocking it off, and sending the bar of soap flying towards the opposite wall.

Agha Gul, Fu--

Salma closed her eyes in exasperation. Since when did she start cursing?

"That hag!" Her blood boil over. "F-bomb Agha Gul. F-bomb his cronies and his dirty games! F-bomb them! F-bomb them all!"

Salma snatched a towel, drying her hands as she kept seething. Her eyes roamed over the mess she had created. She realized she would need anger-management if things continued like this. She had to work things out.

"You freaking, wrinkled, sack of poop!" Salma fumed, collecting the soap and the holder off the floor. "I'll be taking you down even if it's the last thing I ever do! Rat's poohole! A smelly, wrinkled-up, diseased rat's poohole!

Throwing the towel away, Salma stormed out of the bathroom and into Asim's room. She knocked on his door impatiently.

"Come in--"

Salma had already barged in. Asim eyed her warily. With the tempers in the house flaring, he already knew the purpose of her sudden invasion to his room.

"Tell dad if he keeps the nikkah with Zayn, it's a done deal!" she said, a determined and angry scowl etched on her forehead. "I'm not up for some political marriage staged to defeat the enemy. I won't be signing any divorce papers later!"

"Stop talking nonsense!" Asim scolded. "Dad would never agree. He knows you don't even like Zayn!"

"The fight for the Sthooriy is my duty, but so is my religion. If I have to sacrifice my will for one I will sacrifice it a hundred times over for the other. Tell him, it's either a proper marriage to protect my people, or its nothing! There is no in between! That's my final answer."

Author's Note:

It's all going down! Agha Gul might as well be Team Zayn 😂.

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J.