The loutish guards brought Sinbad back to his cell. The sailor could see Azrak’s face leaning against the door. Sinbad had a lot to talk about with Azrak, concerning Akhdar’s devious plans he had for both the Azurians and the Thulians.
“Azrak?” Sinbad called out.
There was no response.
Sinbad spoke up, “Azrak? How…”
Then he realized something wasn’t right.
Azrak wasn’t reacting to his calls. His face was frozen and his eyes were wide open. He didn’t blink, not even once.
The guards opened the door and something rolled out of the cell. It was the size of a melon, but it was blue and it had something sticking out of the bottom. Sinbad fell to his knees in alarm. His eyes were watery and his complexion was cleansed of all color.
It was Azrak’s head that just rolled past him. Part of his friend’s spinal cord was sticking out of the neck area. Azrak’s head was being held on a pike inside his cell and it was propped up against the door.
Sinbad tried to break the chains with all his might, but it was no use. He got up and tried to get past the guards so he could personally kill Akhdar.
He didn’t care what would happen to him. Already he had lost everything—his home, his ship, and now his one and only friend. He had nothing else to live for.
“Akhdar!” Sinbad cried out in anguish. “Akhdar! Show yourself, you bastard!”
The guards caught Sinbad before he could make through the passageway. They held him down, and one of them took Sinbad at the back of the head.
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“Enough, outlander!” said the guard at his right. The other guard slammed Sinbad’s face to the ground, and the sailor lost consciousness.
SINBAD: ROGUE OF MARS
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CHAPTER FIVE
HOW TIGHT CAN LIFE BE
WITHOUT THE SPACE OF HOPE
Sinbad awoke hours later in his dark and damp cell, praying to Almighty Allah it was all a nightmare. But to his dismay it wasn’t. He squinted his eyes to adjust to the darkness and used the faint moonbeams to look at the other side of the cell. He could see only the trace of small drops of Azrak’s blood on his cot and on the floor. Sinbad was guilt ridden and he felt truly alone.
Time weighed heavily upon him. Plans were in motion, but there was little for him to do at the present. A long, lonely evening awaited him. He took this opportunity to pray.
“How many an unfortunate, who has no rest,
Comes later to enjoy the pleasant shade.
But as for me, my drudgery grows worse,
And so, remarkably, my burdens now increase.
They live in comfort all their days,
With ease and honor, food and drink.
I’m like the next man and he is like me,
But oh how different are lives we lead!
How different is wine from vinegar.
I do not say this as a calumny;
Allah is All-Wise and His degrees are just.”
He had been in control of his life for as long as he could remember. He was convinced that his life was going to be ending in short order and there was nothing he could do about it.
His passing thoughts of taking revenge were replaced by finding a way to escape the prison. Then they had given way to self-pity and a bleak conviction that even mattered.
“It was my responsibility,” he said out loud. “I should have sided with Akhdar.”
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“That would have made no difference, Sinbad,” said a voice in the darkness. It was the elderly Azurian. His heart was full of sympathy and quail. “Akhdar would have had Azrak killed regardless of your decision, and he would have died a thousand deaths for his belief in the prophecy. You know that.”
Sinbad sighed and decided it was time to spread the truth about the foresight. Even though it would crush whatever hope the prisoners had.
“The prophecy is a lie,” replied Sinbad. “A rumor started by Akhdar to give the Azurians hope and keep them in use.”
“Truth can be hidden within a rumor, Sinbad,” said the elder, sitting up straight against the wall. “Azrak, believed in you. As do I.”
Sinbad shook his head, trying to assemble his scattered wits. Now the weight of this world rested on Sinbad’s shoulders. He could not picture himself as the savior of this alien planet. How could he save an entire civilization if he couldn’t save the ones he cared about the most?
At least he knew Azrak is now with his family in the next life. Before Sinbad went to sleep, he made a vow to Allah to see that Akhdar and all his minions will pay dearly. Not just for the injustice that was done to him, but for the downtrodden to both Azurians and Thulians alike.
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CHAPTER SIX
DISCORD BETWEEN THE POWERFUL
IS A FORTUNE FOR THE POOR
Sinbad watched as another ill-fated prisoner had been killed in the arena. The gladiator cried out at first, but his feeble protests were quickly replaced by the sounds of crunching bones and the thud of heavy fists and boots against tender flesh. Sinbad couldn’t even see the man beneath the pack of homicidal maniacs satisfying their never-ending thirst for bloodlust.
They piled onto the doomed Azurian man. The poor soul was fighting back sobs and screams. The audience either stared at the grisly scene with horror, or else buried their heads in their hands, trying unsuccessfully to hide from the awful sights and sounds.
The beating lasted less than five minutes, but seemed to go on forever. Just when Sinbad thought he couldn’t possibly stand another moment, however, the gang of murderers stepped back from their victim. The prisoner’s pulped body lay face down in a puddle of dark, venous blood. His limbs were twisted at unnatural angles that made Sinbad’s joints hurt just looking at them.
The guards took hold of the man’s limp arms and dragged his lifeless body into the catacombs as it left a trail of blood across the arena. The remaining guards left their posts and began to purify the ring before the next match could commence.
Sinbad looked at the Azurian elder, “I am set to fight the centaur.”
“Kar-Tyr of the Kurwani,” the old man corrected him. “He is Akhdar’s recent favored fighter, since you lost face to the insufferable whelp.”
“What is the hearsay within the prison walls?”
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The elder hesitated to reply. “They all are placing wagers with odds against you.”
“Perhaps I could reason with Kar-Tyr.”
“I think you will be wasting your time, Sinbad. You have seen him fight. He would not lay down his weapon to have a friendly conversation with you.”
“Akhdar had all his people slaughtered,” Sinbad clarified. “We all share a common enemy and goals.”
“Indeed. You, me, him, and the rest of the inmates here,” retorted the elder. “If you are planning a prison revolt, do you think you are the only person here whoever thought of it? Akhdar’s followers would crumble that plot before you could