Halfway Down [FOT/Chain]

A few weeks had passed since the Mansur household had expanded, and their newfound home was livelier than ever before. With news having spread, her Parthevian contacts had travelled to Zubiadah’s side from far and wide. She was greeted with smiling faces, but she had not called them together - they had come here of their own accord. On one hand, there were family clients she had not seen for over a decade, relieved and surprised that the Mansur name was still alive. On the other, she saw her former servants to whom she had given wage and freedom, giving them the chance of an independent future.

At the helm was Batuttah, an astute businessman, who was reforming the Mansur household into a viable organisation. He had capitalised upon the spread of information on Zubaidah, opening old contracts and making new deals. She found herself answering correspondence from Reim and Heliohapt, and lands further abroad, as she brought the Parthevian nobility onto the world-stage again. She would soon announce the Mansur household as a political entity, exposing the injustices inflicted upon Parthevia.

There was much to be done before that, for sure, but this was an effective start. She would first have to secure the support of the local populus, since she could not assert Parthevian independence without their consent. She had already sent Rafi into the towns and villages, since he had the sort of connections which she could not gather in such a short time. It did not harm them that he was considered a folk-hero in some places, but they had to be careful since other places thought him the root problem. In either case, he had proved useful in gathering information - and he had not let down Zubaidah once.

All that had led to this situation:

‘You need to pay more attention, lady Mansur!’ At this moment, he was accompanying Zubaidah down a narrow mountain-pass.

'Hey, hey, I said call me Zubaidah!’ And why were they walking along what amounted to a rocky tightrope of death?

‘That’s not the problem here, miss! You gotta look where you’re going!’ They had received a curious request from the Parthevian Toads, a bandit group operation in one of the nearby villages.

‘But I have you, do I not? I need not worry when I have you to care for those things.’ Zubaidah had said that they should help them, despite their bandit status, thinking they could earn a useful ally in the process.

‘Uhh, yeah, sure… Wait, what’s with that reasoning?!’ And so they were walking along a drop higher than a ten-storey building.

‘Is she always like that, sir?’ Rafi turned to Batutah, fear and confusion in his eyes. ‘I cannot say she is not, sadly…’

‘Then why don’t you, you know, do something about it!’ He could not contain his confusion, losing his fear, but his dark-eyed companion just laughed. ‘Because things always go well when she’s involved.’

‘Huh, what do you mean?’

‘I am sure you have noticed by now but, if she plans a course of action, it goes exactly as she planned.’

‘It’s her gift.’

In a short while, the Mansur household found themselves on a narrow road leading into the mountainside. It seemed the mountain-path was not the best route, but it was certainly not an expected one. As such, they had the element of surprise, a tool more useful than a spear or ballista in these situations. As they neared the entrance, however, Zubaidah stopped them in their tracks.

Her ears were coloured a bright red, like she was blushing, but they knew that was not the case. Closing her eyes, she focused her attention into her hearing and held up two fingers. It seemed that she had found a way to utilise her newfound ability from Ipos’ dungeon, using the whispers she heard as a method to discern enemy numbers. Since the number seemed so low, she ordered her companion to follow her into the mountainside.

‘And who in fucking hell might you be?! As they entered, a man dressed in black fur turned towards them with fury in his eyes. ‘Oh, pardon me! I forgot the formalities of this business.’ Zubaidah curtsied towards this unknown man, a smirk upon her scarlet lips. ‘My name is Zubaidah ibn Mansur, pleasure to make your acquaintance!’

‘Shit, the Mansur thing’s true then?!’ At once, his face became visibly paler when he heard her name. ‘No need to swear! Why is that the first thing everyone does after learning my name!’ She assumed a guise of fake despondence, Batuttah picking up on her act. ‘Well, my dear, the Mansur household has been dissolved for over a decade. It must be quite a surprise to see that a noblewoman survived the Parthevian troubles.’ Rafi nodded his head slowly, as if he was saying something profound. ‘Yeah, when I heard ‘bout it, it was like a ghost had appeared before me.’

‘And who the fuck are you two?!’

‘Batuttah Khallaq, steward of the Mansur household, at your service!’

‘We’re doing introductions, are we?’

‘Eh, why not?’

‘Fine, then, the name’s Rafi al-Layh.’

‘Wait, why the hell did we just give them our names?!’

‘Just wait for it…’ As if it had been staged perfectly, this unknown actor read his lines en queue. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ If his face could get any paler, he must have been a fine actor indeed. ‘They weren’t lying when they said things were going crazy here!’

‘Why the hell are you three here?!’

‘Huh, are we famous now or something?’

‘It seems her plan is working.’

‘Oh, I get it…’ Rafi grinned, a wide grin like the Cheshire cat, as a bright idea dawned in his head. ‘We went spreading around all that information like a wildfire in the desert, so that we could drive scum like him outta hiding, right?’

‘You catch on quick! You may have a crass tongue, but your intelligence cannot be doubted.’

‘Uhh, thanks? That was a compliment, right?’

‘Stop talking, you little shits! Don’t you understand the danger you’re in?! This is my turf, and I’m not going down without a fight!’

His body swelled into a Gut Buster, preparing to send a deadly wind knot his opponents, but...

‘Eh, he’s only gone and done it, hasn’t he?’

‘He should have kept talking but, alas, I fear it is too late…’

‘What’re you mumbling about?!’

‘I think…’ Zubaidah leapt forwards, twin spears in hand, letting loose one towards his stomach and deflating it with the butt end before she knocked him unconscious with the other. ‘...they were talking about this.’

‘Such a boring conclusion.’

Leaving the unconscious man and his captive to her companions, she proceeded further into the caverns. As if moved by an invisible string, she was drawn towards an unassuming object upon the ground. Picking it up, she saw it was a belt with a camel carved upon its buckle which matched the one their opponent had worn. She sighed, knowing this was not a good sign; she had heard two people from her whispers after all, but taken down just one. If the other had escaped, it was only a matter of time before their group caught wind of her activities and spread information upon them.

Just how she wanted it.