To say that her heart was in her throat would have been an understatement. She didn't feel like she had a heart anymore - the thundering blood in her ears nor the pulsing of her skin on the neck mattered as she slammed open the door of the loya jirga (grand council) room. Nobody in this tribe would have ever dared to do what she had, but no one in her tribe had ever been sold out as she had too, she thought bitterly.

Shah Zaman jerked to his feet, the bowl of fruits crashing to the ground. "NAZLI! Have you lost your goddamn mind, girl?"

Beside him, Hamza stood up mindfully - his worried blue eyes fixed upon her disheveled appearance. Her golden hair had now escaped her plait and her long green kameez (shirt) was stained by mud here and there. But more than that it was the absolute look of anguish on her face . . . something they had not seen in five years.

Shah Zaman's face relaxed in concern. "Child. What is the matter with you?" He took tentative steps in her direction as if she was some untamed horse that would set off suddenly in a mad spree. More tears leaked out from her eyes as she grabbed a chalkboard and began an attempt to project the betrayal that was erupting from her heart like an angry volcano. But a small chalkboard would never do her emotions justice. Nothing, but her own voice could have . . .

The door slammed open again and Nazli nearly passed out from the fright. What if . . . what if he had followed her back home? What if he really meant what he was saying? About marrying her?

"SHAHRAZAD!" Shah Zaman boomed, disbelief blooming on his face as he realized that his own offspring had also done the same thing that he had nearly punished Nazli for. "What the hell is wrong with all of you today!"

"Lanaat (Curse)!" The girl panted, her eyes mirroring the emotion that was prevalant in Nazli's own eyes. "Men! Dozens . . . if not hundreds! Dressed black like the devil! Oh, hell and damnation - they are here too, Baba!"

For a few moments, no one dared to speak. The last four remaining villagers of the Forbidden Valley knew that they were heavily outnumbered. Whatever the threat was, Shah Zaman knew it was not something they had called upon themselves. No, this threat was a trial from their Lord and like the trial that had come their way before, he would succeed in this one too.

"Come out, Goldilocks! It does not befit a woman of your courage to run and hide!"

They all froze - the huge room of the council suddenly boxing them in like prisoners. And then three pairs of eyes snapped to the girl who stood trembling by the corner, the chalk crumbling in her hand like the last of her remaining courage.

"It's that bastard again, isn't it?" Shah Zaman's stomach flipped in sudden concern as he looked between the two women. "And who is this Goldilocks!"

Hamza and Shahrazad did not have to look further to know who the unlucky person in question was. Shahrazad was a pale blonde - her hair so yellow that it had an intense brightness of its own on a sunny day. But Nazli had rich caramel hair - courtesy of her mother who had been an outsider from another tribe. Golden hair . . . Goldilocks.

"Well stop staring at me, you fools!" Shah Zaman cried suddenly, rushing over to the wall and pulling down two shotguns. He slammed one in Hamza's chest while racing to the small window that overlooked the entrance gate. What he saw clearly disturbed him for he took a deep breath and spoke without being able to turn around.

"Shahrazad, get Nazli and run from the back. Run straight for the mountains! Take my pistol from the drawer!"

"But Baba-!"

"NO BUTS! Do as I say for once!" He screamed, turning to face his daughter for a short period with a fear that she had never seen before.

Shahrazad's stomach dropped at the possibility that these evil men could hurt her Baba, but she still forced her legs into action. The ancient pistol felt foreign in her hands and instead of revelling in its glory, she stared at it skeptically. How was this old rusted metal going to protect them from the shiny rifles those men carried?

Nazli still hadn't moved from her position and when Shahrazad tutted angrily at her, Hamza stepped in between them. "What are you doing, Hamza bhai (brother)? Move!" From the corner of her eye, she watched her father tense - itching to turn around and give them all a good lesson for delaying his instructions.

"Nazli is not going to run anymore, Shahrazad!" The boy said, seizing the girl's arm in a powerful grip. Her mouth opened in a gasp and this was perhaps the first time she stared at him unabashedly. A reassuring smile tugged on his lips at the proximity between them before he narrowed his eyes at Shahrazad. "We will face them head-on. It's the only way!"

"Hamza bhai (brother), this is no time to play hero! If you wanna be a shaheed (martyr) so bad, go ahead! Nazli and I wanna live a little longer!" At her words, Hamza's blue eyes narrowed into angry slits. Impertinent fool, he thought heading straight for the door tugging along the girl behind him. Nazli was his - no city bastard was going to come and change that. He would choose death over such a dishonour!

Shah Zaman wheezed behind him as he exited the council room. Shahrazad repeatedly tugged at his arm or at Nazli's other arm to release her. Nazli herself, struggled against him - the worst of her rejections so far. Why did she not trust him? He would lay down his life before he let anyone ever hurt her again.

The sight of a dozen men with masks covering their faces greeted them. Upon seeing the four villagers come into the open with weapons, they stood up a little straighter. But Nazli only had eyes for the three men that stood on top of a small hill - staring down at them as if . . . they were the executioners ready to deliver punishment upon them.

She saw Asadullah's onyx eyes narrow at them before he raised his handgun and pointed it directly on Hamza's head.

Shah Zaman and Shahrazad let out a frightened scream. If Nazli had her voice, she was sure she would have screamed the loudest.

"What are you doing!" Shah Zaman wailed - his voice rolling off in the empty space like her thoughts were in the abyss of her mind. "Put down the gun! You said ten days - we will be gone soon!"

Asadullah jumped off the plinth of rock and approached with foreboding written all over his face. He was just a man - like Hamza and Baba Zaman, yet in that moment he was nothing short of incarnation of hell itself. A harbinger of doom. When he finally stopped a few feet away from them, Nazli was trembling visibly behind Hamza's back. But Hamza . . . he stood towering, valiant and his grip on her wrist was ever more tighter.

"Tell your dog that he touches what is mine." The cold words were directed to Shah Zaman, but never did Asadullah's eyes stray from Hamza's blue. Nazli wished she could see the courage in her companion's eyes - maybe some of it could have transferred into her shameless, cowardly self. She should have felt anger at being forced by Hamza to face this wretched man and for being claimed as if she was an object ready to be tossed from man to another. Yet, any rage or fury were constantly losing the battle against her stomach turning dread.

"Nazli isn't yours, you asswipe!" Shahrazad screeched, lifting Shah Zaman's pistol to his head in return. Behind Asadullah, Fahad whistled impressively, his attention having found itself on this girl the moment she had entered into his line of sight. What an anomaly she was - a foolish bravado of a fighter that was always set to lose.

"If you know what is good for you, you best get the hell out of here!" After she had said those words, she was suddenly being shoved behind Shah Zaman's back as he wrestled the pistol out of her hand.

"Forgive this stupid, foolish girl!" He negotiated, a diplomatic edge to his voice. "There has been some sort of misunderstanding surely. This land is certainly yours and we will be gone tomorrow - no in fact, we will leave today. As a matter of fact, now!"

Asadullah's bored eyes finally shifted to the man. In their last meeting, he had felt some respect for the courageous sarbarah (leader) when he had come to meet him alone, but finally it made sense. His bragging valour was absent now that he was outnumbered. And Asadullah could never respect a man whose courage was conditional solely upon his manpower. Even Nazli, he thought turning to look at her fondly had more bravery to offer than this pathetic bumpkin.

"There is no misunderstanding. You are choosing to not understand." The leader of the Black Panther Mafias stated, his handgun still fixed upon its initial target. "You said the girl's honor was lost forever. I gave you an option to kill Khalid and reclaim it, but you walked away. So here I am, ready to return her honor. By marrying her."

The father and daughter duo gasped. But only Shah Zaman detected the blatant lies this corrupt man was spewing. No one here gave a damn about Nazli or her honor - this bastard simply wanted to defile her. Maybe he hadn't liked the fact that his brother had had all the fun. Shah Zaman felt bile rise in his throat at the possibility of what he was suggesting. Marry her for a day and then throw her out. That was what he wanted!

"Nazli is already married." Hamza spoke coldly - moving his hand from the wrist down to her frozen hand. He interlocked their fingers, rebelliously glaring into Asadullah's furious eyes. If there had been a storm in those black eyes before, now there was a promise of war. He touched the safety, clicking it off with a flick - his jaw tightened impossibly that some of his own men shifted nervously. Everyone did . . . except Hamza.

"Married, you say?" With another hand, he pulled out the brown leather back journal. Nazli's green eyes were huge like saucers as he began to recite her entries. "'Hamza hasn't spoken to me or made any attempt to cross paths with me after I sent him the letter . . . I still don't regret my decision. I couldn't marry him - why should he tie himself down to save my honor?'"

By the time he had shut the journal and tucked it back in his pocket, she was as flushed as a red hot lobster. And this time black churning ugly hate rose in her heart for him. She hated him from the core of her heart. So much so that she felt that she would disintegrate herself as a victim of her own hate. By Allah, did she ever despise someone as much as she did him?

"Now . . . leave her hand or I'll blow your fucking head off." Hamza looked disappointed with having his lie caught out but defiant he stood in the face of danger, holding her hand tighter and more passionately. "1."

"2." Nazli caught on immediately what was happening. He was giving Hamza the countdown - after which he would shoot him. Like he had shot his own brother.

"3."

"5." Her eyes turned round with growing fear as he skipped a number without any hesitance.

"7." She tugged at their hands frantically at this point, turning to look at Shahrazad for assistance. But the girl stood like a peg - rooted by the ground as if she had lost all ability to function. Shah Zaman raced forward, pulling on Hamza's arm to ease off his vice like grip. The boy stood motionless staring forward at the man who ultimately held his life in his hands.

"10." An impulsiveness sprang her into action - she bent down to their hands and sunk her sharp teeth in Hamza's hand. He let out a groan, instantly releasing her, but chucking her away harshly in his own unawareness.

Concern relaxed his taut body slightly, but when she stood up and rushed away to Shahrazad, Asadullah had to stop himself from laughing. A few days ago, she had bitten him too. At the time he had considered her to be a weak coward. Now as respect and admiration softened his gaze, he realized that she was always brave. A silent warrior . . . hoping that one day she would be recognized and honored. He would grant her that respect.

"The girl just saved your ass." He muttered, lowering his handgun back to his side, but not tucking it in its holster. He hoped he wouldn't have a reason to use it, but seeing another man lay his hands on what was his had nearly driven him to commit murder. And no doubt, he wouldn't have cared if that blonde bastard was dead. "But I bet a few more months on your life. Your recklessness and stupidity will get you killed, kid."

"Fuck-!"

"SILENCE!" Shah Zaman roared, shoving his vizier's son back. "Son of Sikandar Khan. Nazli's honor has already been returned. There is no need for your assistance!"

He cocked a perfect brow. "Oh? Enlighten me, Shah Zaman."

The old man breathed heavily, closing his blue eyes for patience. Oh Allah, please help me. "Hamza here will marry Nazli and return her honor. This matter is done. Khatm (Finished)!"

Asadullah gestured with a hand and a man dressed in a lawyer's black robes stepped forward. A file was in his hands. "I was about to offer you a handsome mahr*. This land returned back to you. Plus, I picked up some fine war horses and cattle too. I figured that you probably need to marry of your daughter there so you will need it to show-!"

"We do not sell our womenfolk!"

Asadullah grabbed the file angrily. "No. Instead you coerce them and threaten them into marrying the next man available. Isn't that worse than selling, Shah Zaman?"

The old man threw his hands up in the air with a comical exasperation. "You are wasting your time, son of Sikandar Khan! We do not need you to return Nazli's honor! Now leave!"

"No." He pulled out a strange device - one that Nazli had never seen before. Static noise echoed from it and beside her Shahrazad whispered. A walkie talkie.

"You will marry the girl to me." He turned the wheel on the device, a coldness spreading through the place as if something inevitably wrong was about to go down. "Your village folk are in a tribe a few hours away from here. One word from me will start a feudal war that will see your people hunted through these valleys. You won't find a single place to hide, Shah Zaman."

Trepidation froze Shah Zaman. His already weak heart pounded behind his aching ribs at the implication of his warning. The relationship between their tribe and others was a fine thread waiting to be snapped. One misunderstanding was all it would take for their people to be wiped off the face of this land. Where would he run? How would he protect Shahrazad? His daughter, his villagers and his position were all at stake here!

"I know what you want!" Blue eyes guiltily met Nazli's green before they faced forward again. "You want a night with her. Fine. But-!"

Shahrazad screamed suddenly, racing forward towards her father. Asadullah had grabbed her father from his collars - while his gun occupied hand was digging on his pale temple. No! No! No! He couldn't! He wouldn't kill her father! But before she could reach him, a man - the bastard that had injured her with his kukri dagger blocked her way. "Woah! Easy there, firecracker! No need for a woman to go get herself involved in the matters of men!"

"Move out of my way or I will gouge your eyes out, badsoorat harami (ugly bastard)!" Once again Fahad dodged her incoming slap and trapped her in his arms. But more than her soft blows from the elbows and her legs, he was offended by her words. First she had called him a harami khanzeer (bastard pig) and now a badsoorat harami (ugly bastard). What a saucy little punk - just his type.

But Nazli was reeling from the enormity of what her sarbarah (leader) had just said. You want a night with her. Fine. You want a night with her. Fine. The words echoed repeatedly in her mind like a broken record over and over again that she barely noticed the man who had been occupying her mind for the last few days come and stand beside her. She also did not hear Asadullah's response for if she had, perhaps some of the hatred in her heart would have ebbed away.

"You revolt me, Shah Zaman!" Asadullah snapped, digging the gun even deeper. He wished he could empty out every bullet he had in this sick man's head, but it would forever destroy his chances with the girl who had taken over his mind. "You offer your women like a trader offers his goods. Except, a trader values his products and does not offer them for free. Shah Zaman, I will marry her and have her for every night. But I will honor her because I am a man with morals. Something you clearly lack." He spat, shoving the man away ruthlessly.

And he was more than surprised when the boy, Hamza did not move forward to help his leader up. Instead, he met eyes with Asadullah - no hostility in them, but rather a hint of respect. But the leader of the Black Panther Mafias had no more patience for Nazli's troublesome family. They didn't deserve her and he was about to relinquish them of their duty of looking after her.

His heart raced at every step he took in her direction. She had been on his mind since the first moment he had set eyes upon her. And it had taken her just over two weeks to completely enslave him and his mind. And perhaps for the first time, he did not mind giving such an immense control over himself to someone. As long as it was her controlling him, he thought subduedly.

"Marry me." The command came out in a soft murmur and he raised his hand to her wayward hair. She snapped out of her trance and jumped away from him - mistrust and hatred brewing in her deep orbs. Frustration picked at his nerves - if anything, she should not be looking at him like that. Had he not proven himself to her just now? Had he not snubbed her disgusting leader's offer for a more ethical partnership?

"You do not have a choice." He hissed this time harshly, stepping ever so close to her. "I am returning this land back to your people. I am giving your people more assets than they will ever see in their life. But if you refuse, I will destroy your people. Their bodies will fall - chests ripped open like from your nightmare. And in the end, you will still marry me."

A trembling Qazi* stepped forward - gun trained on his head as he fumbled with nikkah (marriage) documents. Stepping forward, he began to ask the question, but paused when it came to saying Nazli's surname. Asadullah turned coldly to Shah Zaman, this time his gun pointed at Shahrazad.

"Izad! Her father's name was Izad! Oh Allah, just put the gun down!" He obeyed, turning to the Qazi again who repeated the question.

Nazli did not move - only stared back, tears leaking from her eyes. Behind the Imam, Shahrazad struggled wildly in Fahad's clutches - screaming at her to refuse. Hamza, having understood the magnitude of the situation only glared at Shah Zaman's cowardly frame as it quivered with fear. This was their leader? A weakling?

"Nod your head, Nazli." Asadullah whispered, fighting an urge to wipe the tear tracks from her heavenly face. "Show your people that you are more than what they say. That you . . . are honorable enough to stand up alone and protect them. This is not me returning your honor to you. This is you earning it back yourself."