But Irsa knew otherwise. She knew he at least respected Khalid a great deal more than he let on. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Tariq.”
“Tell him if you must.” They rounded the shadowed side of a small dune on the edges of the encampment. “It won’t change a thing. Tariq and I are kept beyond the inner circle for the most part.” Rahim kicked a stone from their path. “Tariq is still incensed that he won’t be allowed to go into Amardha with the caliph when he demands the sultan’s surrender.”
Irsa frowned. “I don’t understand why he would want to go. To be honest, I don’t even understand why Khalid wishes to go. That awful man will be unlikely to return Shazi just because he is asked to do so.”
“Even so, I understand why both of them want to go into Amardha and try.” Rahim came to a halt, then turned to shield Irsa from a gust of sand blowing their way.
Irsa shaded her eyes. “But you still disagree with Khalid.”
“I think the caliph should take us with him,” Rahim said firmly. “There’s no finer archer than Tariq in the camp. The caliph is taking the young magus from the Fire Temple with him for protection, along with the captain of the guard. They’ll definitely keep the caliph safe, but I don’t know if they would risk his safety for Shazi’s sake. I’d much prefer it if others were involved. Others whom I trust.”
“Do you believe the sultan will actually surrender to Khalid?” Irsa looked up, her features dubious.
“It’s less about demanding surrender and more about learning whether or not Shazi is still in the city.”
“You’re worried the sultan has harmed her.” It was not a question.
Rahim sighed. “He would be foolish to hurt Shahrzad. For years, he’s been outmatched in all ways. Though Parthia is a wealthy kingdom, it’s never been able to hold a candle to Khorasan. Our armies, our coffers, our rulers have always been stronger.”
“Until the storm,” Irsa said quietly.
Rahim nodded.
Irsa turned her gaze toward the Sea of Sand. “Rahim . . . do you think he would hurt Shazi?”
His hands shifted to cup her face. “You know as well as I that Shahrzad can take care of herself.” Rahim brushed his thumbs across her cheeks.
Irsa wanted to believe Rahim. But she could not forget the events of that terrible afternoon in the desert with Spider. That terrible afternoon she and Rahim had witnessed Shahrzad fall prey to hatred.
Had they not been there to help Shazi, something unspeakable might have happened that day. Had Rahim not been there, her sister might have died. Rahim had been Irsa’s voice of reason through the turmoil. He’d never flinched from danger. He’d been swift and capable at all turns.
Irsa could not forget. And she could not help but remember that Spider had disappeared from camp the following day.
No. She would never forget that there were treacherous insects lurking where she least expected them.
Irsa lifted her chin. “I’ll ask Khalid.”
“What?” Rahim blinked.
“I’ll ask him to take you and Tariq with him when he goes to Amardha. As a favor to me.”
A mixture of surprise and gratitude washed across Rahim’s features. “Thank you, Irsa-jan.” He smiled. “Though I didn’t plan for you to speak on our behalf, I thank you.”
“Please,” Irsa whispered. “Please bring her back safe.” Again, Irsa recalled how Rahim had helped her rescue Shahrzad with very little bloodshed. “I know you’ll think of a way.”
He kissed her hand. Then they continued walking along the camp’s periphery.
After a time, Irsa stopped. “We shouldn’t stray too far from Omar’s tent.”
“No.” Rahim laughed morosely. “For I don’t wish to receive another one of his infamous lectures.”
“You can hardly blame him. They looked for us for hours the day Shahrzad disappeared. And we worried them horribly.” Irsa felt the weight of guilt settle upon her once more. Though everyone had assured her there was nothing she could have done to save her sister—that she, too, would likely have been taken—Irsa still felt guilty for having wandered off with Rahim.
They made the journey back toward Omar’s tent in pensive silence. Aisha was standing outside, her expression warring between a smile and a frown.
Before a word of chastisement could be said, Irsa stood on her toes to speak in Rahim’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to Khalid.” She felt the familiar warmth curl through her stomach when Rahim brushed his forehead closer. “I’ll make sure he listens.”
“I know.” He looked at her with guileless eyes. “That’s why I love you.”
Tariq had not expected the Sultan of Parthia to invite them into his palace. He’d expected the ruler of the warring kingdom to meet them in the desert.
With a host of his own.
Instead, the sultan had sent a messenger, requesting to speak with the caliph in person.
So the caliph made the decision to ride into Amardha, under a flag of truce.