The morning light forced my eyes open, bringing with it the immediate, heavy weight of the day ahead. I looked around the cramped cell to see Iqbal Sahab already eating. Our morning ration was meager—just two pieces of bread and a cup of tea.
I sat beside him and began to eat when a sudden, harsh sound broke the silence.
"Egh.. aghh.."
Iqbal Sahab began to choke violently.
"WATER! WE NEED WATER!" I screamed toward the bars, calling for the prison guards. They hurried over and handed a container through the bars. After a few frantic gulps, Iqbal Sahab finally steadied his breathing.
"Eat slowly," I said, my heart still racing. "What's the rush?"
"Don't waste your own time, son. Eat quickly," Iqbal Sahab replied, still catching his breath. "They could come to take us at any moment."
"Don't worry, just eat in peace," I urged.
"They'll be here soon," he insisted. "Besides, we won't get anything else until tonight. I can't work a full day on an empty stomach."
"Then tell her," I countered. "She'll bring you food in the evening too."
He chuckled softly. "Haha! Just be quiet and eat."
I began to eat, but a moment later, the heavy iron door swung open with a deafening groan.
"Oh! They're here," Iqbal Sahab muttered, rushing to finish the last of his tea. Following his lead, I gulped mine down quickly.
Four men stood at the bars of our jail. Iqbal Sahab stood up instantly, and I followed him. One of them signaled to open the gate.
"Let's go," they commanded, stepping forward with heavy iron shackles.
My heart sank at the sight of them. My previous wounds were already throbbing with pain, and now this. Iqbal Sahab stepped forward first.
"Put them on me first," he said firmly.
Once he was bound, I stepped forward and extended my hands. *To see the downfall of Ahmed Khan, I have to endure this,* I thought. The metal bit into my skin, sending a jolt of pain through my arms, but soon the shackles were locked. They led us out.
We were marched toward the backside of Ahmed Khan's massive mansion. There was a mountain there that forced Ahmed Khan to take a long, circuitous route whenever he returned. Our task was to cut a path through that mountain to make his travels easier. Iqbal Sahab had explained the details to me the day before.
As we walked, Iqbal Sahab leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Ointment will be applied to your wounds tonight. Don't worry."
"Thank you," I said with a faint, downcast smile.
"Don't thank me. Thank someone else," Iqbal replied.
"But you're the one who told that girl," I noted.
"Why do you keep calling her 'that girl' when you know her name? Bilal, son!" he said with a knowing side-eye.
I stopped in my tracks as Iqbal Sahab kept walking. My mind drifted back to that moment.
> > >
"BILAL!" I had called out.
The girl had stopped and turned back toward me, her face a mixture of confusion and worry.
"My name is Bilal Afzal," I had said quietly, my voice steady.
A wide smile had spread across her face. "My name is Aliza, Bilal," she replied brightly.
"I don't care whatever your name is," I snapped.
The smile slowly faded from her lips.
"Go to hell, BILAL," she had spat before walking away.
I smirked to myself. "Aliza," I muttered.
> > >
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the memory and caught up.
We reached the work site where a small path had already begun to take shape. They removed our shackles and handed us axes and other heavy tools.
After a while of grueling digging, exhaustion took over. I sat down on a nearby rock to catch my breath. My eyes landed on a boy who looked to be about my age. He was staring directly at me. I quickly looked away, but when I glanced back a few moments later, he was gone.
"Hello!" a voice came from behind me.
"Gasp!" I jumped, startled.
"Haha! You got scared," the boy laughed.
I turned away, annoyed.
"Can I sit with you?" he asked, stepping closer.
"No," I replied shortly.
"Hah! It's just that you're the only one here my age. Everyone else is an old man who gets angry at every little thing. I don't feel like talking to them at all," he said.
I remained silent. He smiled anyway.
"Silence is a sign of 'yes,'" he remarked, sitting down beside me.
"I have to work," I said, standing up to leave.
As I walked away, I glanced back and saw him looking incredibly dejected.
I stopped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I turned around and sat back down next to him. A massive grin broke across his face.
"There's no one around anyway, so what's the point of working so hard?" I muttered.
"EXACTLY!" he exclaimed. "It's better to talk than to work."
"Hmm," I responded, expressionless.
"My name is Aditya. You can call me Adi," he said.
"Okay, Adi."
After a moment of silence, I noticed him watching me. "Oh... my name is Bilal," I added.
"And I can call you..."
"You can call me Bilal," I finished for him.
"Okay, Bilal. Where are you from?" Adi asked.
"Thatta."
"Oh, nice. So what are you doing here in Delhi?"
"I was brought here as a prisoner," I answered.
"WHAT? A PRISONER?" Adi shouted. He immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, looking around nervously before whispering, "A prisoner?"
"Hm."
"Ahmed Khan is very powerful. He's the Governor's special man. Escaping his custody is almost impossible," Adi warned.
"You don't need to worry about that," I said with a slight smile.
"No, if you need any help, just tell me. I'll do whatever I can," Adi promised.
"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING OVER THERE? GET BACK TO WORK!" a guard yelled.
"Well, duty calls," Adi sighed.
As we started working, Iqbal Sahab noticed us. "A new friend?" he asked.
I gave him a fake smile.
...
In the mansion's kitchen, Aliza was cooking with three other girls.
"The soup is almost ready," Aliza said, stirring the pot.
"Did you see Ahmed Khan's new slave?" one of the girls asked.
Aliza froze, her attention sharpening on their conversation.
"Oh, definitely. He's quite handsome. I heard Ahmed Khan brought him in as a prisoner."
"I heard he's quite fragile, though. Someone said he fainted while working today."
Aliza whispered the name to herself: "Bilal."
"Listen, I'm going out for a bit," Aliza said to the others. "If my father comes by, tell him I'll be home soon."
She paused at the kitchen door, turned back, and filled a bowl with soup and then packed it.
Slipping out of the mansion, she mounted a white horse and rode off.
...
"I'm fine now," I told Iqbal Sahab, seeing the worry etched on his face.
"I told you this morning to eat properly," he scolded.
"I've just never done this kind of labor before," I replied.
"It's okay, you rest for a bit. I'll do your share. This is what I do anyway," Adi offered.
"Thanks, Adi!" I said.
The sound of approaching hooves reached our ears. Three riders were heading our way.
"Oh no! It's Zafar Khan," Adi whispered.
"Who is Zafar Khan?" I asked.
"Ahmed Khan's nephew," Adi replied.
> > >
"It's not that easy. He isn't an ordinary man; he's Ahmed Khan's nephew," Aliza had explained.
> > >
The memory flashed in my mind.
"I see," I said, watching Zafar approach.
Zafar and his companions reached us.
"EVERYONE WORK PROPERLY! I'M HERE NOW TO SEE IF YOU'RE SLACKING. I WON'T TOLERATE ANY LAZINESS" Zafar said.
His eyes fell on me. He dismounted his horse and walked over.
"You! Ahmed Khan sent me here specifically for you. Remember, my eyes are on you at all times," Zafar sneered.
Then, his gaze shifted to Iqbal Sahab. "Well, well, Iqbal Sahab! How are you? It's been a long time."
"It would have been a better day if we hadn't met," Iqbal Sahab retorted.
"Oh? You still have good days? Interesting," Zafar mocked before walking to the side.
"We have to work now," Adi whispered.
I ignored the pain in my hands and swung the pickaxe into the ground.
"Psst..."
I looked around but saw no one. I went back to work.
"Oii! Bilal!"
I looked again, seeing nothing at first. I walked toward the direction of the voice, stepping behind a large rock. I gasped in surprise.
"Aliza," I was amazed.