"Not until the evening. Another six hours at the earliest. I am not sure when Kaseem plans to come for you, but it is in an inauspicious day today." Tarek said. The young djinn rose with Amina's help and went to lie down on one of the servants' cots that lined the room. Amina went about preparing tea, and offered a cup to Kara when it was done. The fluid was refreshing and soothing, with ingredients to calm the nerves. There was a lot for that tea to combat but it was the best that the woman could offer in terms of material support. Tarek slipped into a fitful sleep, regaining some of his strength in doing so.<br/><br/>"I think that we have three days." Amina said to Kara. "In three days there is a holy day, and many kings in the past have chosen that day for royal marriages. It is believed to bring good fortune upon the union, but I think Kaseem will simply use it as a means to appear more legitimate. Perhaps, to pass the time, I could tell you stories about your father and of better days?"<br/><br/><hr/>Tarek awoke some time later. It still pained him to move, but he took the letter with determination. He lingered at the doorway. "Kara," the djinn began, eyes going to the ground, "forgive me for what I said about your father. I . . . I no longer think I can speak for his beliefs." The young djinn then left abruptly, unwilling to face any reply Kara could give. His features showed that he felt shame now for those words.<br/><br/>Amina took Kara to the kitchen, and the two women were given food to bring to their chamber and eat. Amina drew cautious glances from the kitchen staff, and none would meet Kara's eyes. They were all thoroughly cowed and Amina seemed like an untouchable to them. They were given bread and a pot of lamb sew to share. The pot was not large but would have enough to satisfy both women. They returned to the chamber in the servants' quarter and ate.<br/><br/>Some time after their meal finished, a guard dressed all in black, wearing a silver mask, entered without announcement or fanfare. He dropped a severed hand that grasped a piece of bloodied parchment. The hand had been severed from its body violently, and the parchment was tattered and so soaked with blood that anything written upon it was illegible. It had been ripped open. The guard said nothing after leaving the gruesome message, but it was easy enough to infer that this was Tarek's hand, and the parchment, Kara's message.<br/><br/><hr/>Three days passed with no word of Tarek and no appearance from Hallbjorn. Amina and Kara were generally left alone, and free to go where they chose within the palace, but they were always shadowed by a guard in black wearing a silver mask.<br/><br/>On the eve of the third day Kara was seized by several guards in silver masks. They took her to a different chamber with waiting serving women. One of the guards thrust Kara inside, and he spoke in a chilling voice, "if you do not meet the king's expectations, each of these women will be tortured and then fed to dogs." He told her, and closed the door. Once again Kara was tweezed, waxed, bathed, and anointed with oils. Her eyes were kohled and she was dressed in a silken wedding dressing with rich gold decorations.<br/><br/>When she was at last prepared, the guards in silver masks took her into the center of the castle, where the throne room was. The room was huge and open, with tall marble pillars veined with gold held up a vaulted ceiling. In the middle of the room was a deep recess thirty feet across and as many deep. Within guttered a black fire that occupied less than a tenth of that recess - but Kara knew instinctively that the flame should fill the whole thing and blaze a bright blue.<br/><br/>Sitting in a golden throne was Kaseem, dressed in a red robe, wearing ornaments of state that looked off on him. They fit him ill - these were things meant for greater men, and Kaseem's lack of character seemed to shine brighter with how sword of Janna's kings sat ill on his hip and the crown sat poorly on his brow. More of the silver masked guards awaited, along with members of Kaseem's inner circle. They were men like him - twisted, corrupt men who lusted for their own power and advancement, without any care for the realm so long as their bellies and coffers were full. One of them in particular was especially fearsome: a tall warrior all in black who wore a silver sash. He had a silver mask, but it hung from his belt and was fashioned to be even more fierce than those of the rank and file. He stared at Kara with undisguised lust; it was entirely conceivable that once Kaseem married Kara and took his pleasure from her that he would allow his flunkies the use of her body for their own pleasure as well.<br/><br/>The guards brought Kara to stand between the flames and the throne, and Kaseem smiled an especially evil smile. His face was heavily painted and kohled, but it did not conceal the flush of intoxication. He rose to his feet, and he spoke smugly: "this could have been the happiest day of your life, my dear, if you had not chosen to be an ungrateful little bitch." The king said in a voice dripping with venom. "Now, it will be a happy day for me and mine only. Once I'm done with you, all of my inner circle will enjoy your body. They will be permitted to slake any perversion they wish on you - you might think to scream for mercy, but your mouth will be too full of cock to-"<br/><br/>Before he could continue there was a sound like thunder, and the palace shook. Kaseem shook and almost fell. He was forced to grasp the throne to brace himself. Some of his flunkies, more inebriated and also unprepared, toppled to their feet. Only the guards kept their footing, and the ones holding Kara ensured she stayed upright as well.<br/><br/>The sound came again, and once more the palace shook. Kaseem looked at the guards, his face turning dark red. "Find out what's happening!" He shouted. Some of the guards teleported away, sandstorms forming at their feet and carrying them away. Kaseem waited impatiently. A minute passed without a repeat of the sound. Then the sound came again, and with it the palace shaking, but this time there was the sound of ancient timbers breaking and falling. One of the guards returned, holding his side. All of his ribs were a mangled mess, and blood flowed where those broken ribs had pierced his flesh.<br/><br/>"The gates, my king!" The guard said in a pain voice. He removed his silver mask to breathe easier, and blood flowed down his chin. "We are under attack . . ."<br/><br/>Kaseem stormed forward to the guard, eyes widening with anger. "What? How? This cannot be! How many are at the gates?"<br/><br/>"I . . . do not know." The man said. "The only . . ." He began but then the loss of blood took its toll and the man lost consciousness. Kaseem shrieked with fury. He turned to everyone, and his anger only grew and his eyes turned amber.<br/><br/>"Why do you all stand idle when Janna is under attack! Go! Take up arms and defend your king!" Kaseem howled. The warrior in the silver sash was the first to go, and then all of the guards save the two who held Kara. Some of his inner circle went as well, but others were too drunken to manage. These, Kaseem kicked and berated until he had no more force to do so, face dripping sweat. He returned to his throne, breathing heavily. He reached into his robe and withdrew a long, elaborate golden pipe. He held it to his lips with trembling hands and called a small flame to life, lighting the end of the pipe. He breathed deeply, and soon narcotic smoke flowed from his nostrils as he exhaled.<br/><br/>But whatever relaxation he won was lost when, some minutes later, the warrior in the silver sash reappeared. The sound of battle - of weapons singing and clashing, of men crying out in pain and those cries cut short, filtered into the throne room.<br/><br/>The warrior appeared on his knees, and he had his sword in one hand. The other was desperately trying to wrest a hand from his throat. The hand was connected to a forearm, severed from its owner near the elbow. The skin was unmistakably fair and pale: it was the hand of Kara's beloved. Even severed from his body, Hallbjorn's had tenaciously clung to its grip on the warrior's throat, and he was forced into the dangerous position of stabbing the fingers and severing them to get it free. The warrior was at last able to breathe, and he fell forward, bracing himself with his free hand.<br/><br/>"Well?" Kaseem demanded.<br/><br/>"There is only one man, my king." The warrior said in a hoarse voice. "Nothing stops him. I saw a dozen blades pierce his chest and he did not relent."<br/><br/>"If he still lives then why did you return here?" Kaseem said and rose to his feet, striding towards the kneeling warrior.<br/><br/>"I will not be killed by such an unclean one!" The warrior said. "You cannot believe-"<br/><br/>But he was cut off as Kaseem coaxed into life a blade of fire, and swung it. The flame was sickly and black, not at all like the blue flame that Kara had once commanded. The warrior's head was struck from his body.<br/><br/>Kaseem turned to Kara in a rage and gripped her by throat. The guards holding her loosened their grips and stepped away. The king lifted Kara by this hand-hold, and then he hurled her towards the black flame. "Burn, you Gaian bitch!" Kaseem shouted.<br/><br/>At that moment the door to the throne room opened, kicked off of their hinges.<br/><br/>Hallbjorn stood in the doorway. He was covered in a hundred wounds. His left arm was mutilated, and the hand missing. His right eye was gone, and a cut to the right side of his face laid his teeth bare in a slasher smile. His right hand gripped a warhammer, but he dropped the long-handled weapon and drew a sword from his hip.<br/><br/>"Go! Take him!" Kaseem said to the two remaining guards who had held Kara. They looked slowly from their king to Hallbjorn, and then at each other, before they teleported . . . somewhere else. Kaseem howled in fury, and this almost cost him his head. Hallbjorn threw himself across the room, and his sword almost separated Kaseem's head from his neck. The evil king raised his sword of sickly flames, and it blocked the steel the Berserker wielded. But the force of the blow staggered Kaseem and forced him back several steps.<br/><br/>"Unclean!" Kaseem shrieked, and held forth a hand, summoning a tongue of flames that swept over Hallbjorn, burning the Berserker's flesh. The Berserker was unphased and moved forward and swung his sword in a brutal arc that cut the fire-spewing hand free from Kaseem's arm. The king gave a cry of pain, and he barely blocked a downward stroke of Hallbjorn's sword. Hallbjorn's swollen, burnt, and bleeding flesh strained against the fiery blade, and Kaseem was forced down to one knee. Hallbjorn raised his sword and brought it down again and again, hammering at Kaseem's defense. Each time the sword pushed Kaseem's fiery sword further down until Hallbjorn's sword cut down into Kaseem's body. The king's cry of pain was ear-splitting, and the sword of fire guttered out as Kaseem lost the will to maintain it.<br/><br/>Hallbjorn lifted his sword again, and this time, with nothing to halt the singing steel, he struck Kaseem's head from his shoulders.<br/><br/>Kaseem's head fell, and rolled away. The crown fell from his brow and rolled in a separate direction.<br/><br/>Hallbjorn breathed heavily. "Kara?" He asked. His voice was heavy with strain. "Where are you? I cannot see you." The large man turned his head this way and that, but he was blinded completely now. The black flames had taken that from him.