Inshallah: Blood-stained God by Helen Allan

Author:Helen Allan [Allan, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hell West Press
Published: 2021-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

9

I wipe my lips and close the mullah’s door quietly, lest the dog next door starts barking again, as I make my way down the main street of the village to my new destination.

Tonight, the moon is low, but the night feels light due to the thick coat of snow covering the tracks and surrounding the buildings. Here and there, the snow gives way to ice-covered stones, making the pot-holed road a tripping hazard. Twice I have fallen. But many other times on my run here I had also slipped and slid and bruised myself. Luckily, I heal fast, and my determination has not wavered, despite the hardships.

In all, this journey has taken two weeks, even at my great speed. There are no roads to follow to reach this cold, isolated mountain village, just mule tracks winding up and up and occasionally disappearing amid the snowdrifts. Many times I had become lost. It was a long way from Ranal, but it was a necessary destination. This town, one of five all clinging to this steep mountainside, is where I know I will find the first of Yashfa’s daughters, her eldest, Dilara.

Tonight, questioning the mullah, I had expected him to be able to tell me which house or nearby Winter valley settlement my beloved sister-wife’s daughter is living in. Never could I have imagined his answer.

Now, my cloak made wet and heavy from my contact with the ground and the constant snowfall, I stalk towards the rear of a barred cell backing onto the alley, my boots crunching on the ice.

Standing on tiptoe, pressing my face to the bars, I peer inside the small shutter-less window. The prison is silent. No man guards it. No light illuminates it inside or out. But my eyesight is far better than it was when I was a human girl. Inside, as I had been told she would be, a small mound of fabric hides a woman cowering and shivering on the floor in the corner. If my information is correct, and I have no reason to imagine a dying man would lie, this is who I seek.

“Dilara?” I whisper, “Dilara, is that you?”

The pile of fabric rises, like a ghost, and moves to the window.

“Who calls my name?” a breathless voice asks.

From the angle where I stand I cannot see her face, but just hearing her acknowledge her name is more than I can ask right now.

“Dilara, I am so happy to have found you,” I whisper in excitement. “Two weeks I have journeyed, many false leads I have followed, and finally, finally, I find you. I am Asha. Your mother, Yashfa, sent me to rescue you.”

“My mother?” her voice rises and breaks, “she is here?”

“No,” I lower my voice as sorrow tries to steal my tongue. “Your mother has died. But her daughters were in her last thoughts. She asked me to find you and take you to the mountains where you can live free.”

I wait for her to reply. But only silence greets me.

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