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Previous part: On the road | -- Chapter 3 --

Story - Chapter 4
Time passed until it eventually found Riyadh, his new Maharajan stallion, and the remaining handful of his bodyguards and their assigned horses in the comfortably warm Turkish weather near the coast of the Black Sea. Some of the hired soldiers had strayed away from the long journey because they'd lost heart in it, though for the most part the ones who had left had been dismissed by Riyadh; he only wanted the most loyal, the ones who wouldn't crack under pressure and slit his throat in the dead of night for his money. He'd driven the remaining men like a madman trying to escape his death, dragging them through the smothering heat by day and the bone-chilling cold by night until all their horses collapsed in the sand from exhaustion. All apart from Zamil, who seemed so immune to the trying journey that Riyadh eventually decided to ride him bareback and sell his fast-wearing grey Arabian at a horse market despite the increased discomfort trackless riding would cause.
It was in a small yet wealthy town bustling with lively folk as they went about their small, simple lives that Riyadh finally decided to rest from the long, tiring journey, and his soldiers couldn't help but feel relief. It was a straining test of loyalty, following the dark, mysterious stranger as he traveled through the land like a man pursued by a thousand demons – despite the handsome pay. Riyadh found accommodation for everyone despite the stubborn opposition of the town council, who were easily swayed by the glint of money, and allowed them their freedom; the men could leave with their horses if they wanted, or they could stay and follow him to the end. It was a question of whether this would ever come to an end or if it was his destiny to run forever until he'd seen every land in the world, however, so most remaining men reluctantly opted to leave and departed to find their way either to their home or to a new employer. Only three remained.

There was no rest for Riyadh, however; the day after their arrival he led Zamil out of the stable to the large, rolling fields stretching out around the town with new tack for the stallion resting on his arms. The pair had grown very close over the course of the journey and the once dangerously high-strung stallion now walked beside the man like an old friend, glancing around his new surroundings with a nonchalant calmness as he lazily cocked his ears at the sounds reaching them.

  “You'd do yourself good if you were a bit more alert, you know,” Riyadh told the horse with a soft grunt, though Zamil just looked at him with a sassy toss of his handsome head. They came to a halt near some crumbling stone ruins that had probably once been a house and Riyadh started to place the tack on Zamil. The stallion stood still though he watched the man with a keen expression, curious to know what these new things were. Riyadh left the girth for last, knowing it would shock the stallion to suddenly have the weight on his back actually strapped to him, but Zamil didn't do more than flick his ears and look at him with a questioning expression.

  “Dork,” Riyadh huffed affectionately, rubbing his forehead before he grabbed the bridle. Zamil didn't take to that as easily, however; he started to struggle fiercely as Riyadh put a thumb in his mouth and slipped the metal bar into his mouth, pinning his ears as he tried to fight back. He ducked away from the man sharply as soon as he got a sense of freedom, kicking out at him but meeting thin air, then bolted away and ran until he was a small speck in the distance.

  “Aren't you worried he'll run away forever?” a voice asked Riyadh and the man looked over in the direction it had come from quickly, his hand reflexively traveling to the hilt of the vicious dagger hanging at his side. A young woman was standing a few steps away from him, a large shawl wrapped loosely over her head and her shoulders and an empty basket resting under her arm, part of which was exposed because she'd rolled the sleeves of her long, elegant dress up to her elbows. Her long, curling jet black hair fell down along her sides and back from under the shawl and Riyadh looked at her quietly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “No,” he finally said shortly, hoping she would leave him and move on with the usual humble respect women had for men. She didn't, however.

  “Then call him back,” she said, almost as though it was a challenge, and for a moment there was a stunned silence as he peered at her.

  “Alright,” he agreed slowly, keeping his eyes on her a few moments longer before turning them back onto the speck in the distance called Zamil. He whistled shrilly and the stallion, despite being highly insulted at the fact that the man had shoved a piece of metal into his mouth, came galloping back with some frisky bucks. A bright grin broke out on the girl's face.

  “I'm impressed,” she hummed with a smart look, “I'd expected him to leave you like all your soldiers did.”

  “I let them leave, there's a difference.”

  “So you say, but it was really a test for them, wasn't it?” she asked keenly while keeping her intense look glued on him, “You wanted to comb out all the ones who wouldn't be loyal until the very end. Guess it just injured you, huh? Three soldiers compared to eight, that's not a lot.”

  “Don't talk about things you know nothing about,” Riyadh told her sharply, starting to feel insulted by this woman's unwanted boldness, but she just laughed it off.

  “I was expecting more of you, you know,” she replied, “You seemed like a smart, open-minded man but I guess you're just like the rest.” She shrugged and started to turn to walk away again.

  “What's your name?” he asked, his voice stopping her in her tracks. She looked over at shoulder at him with a smart grin.

  “Why should I tell you?” she teased playfully and although Riyadh felt her poking at his temper with her childish sense of humour, he couldn't help but smile a little.

  “Because I asked for it,” he responded softly. He was smooth and charming, not to mention handsome, and when his somber mask was penetrated he could prove to be a pleasant man who could convince anyone with only a few sly words. He was dangerous. The girl just smiled, however.

  “Sevda,” she responded and, when he opened his mouth to respond, added, “And I know you're Riyadh, you don't have to tell me.” Zamil came to a stop by Riyadh before the man could respond, however, shoving his head against the man's shoulder strongly and causing him to stumble, and Sevda laughed again while turning around and walking away.

  “Zamil,” Riyadh growled in annoyance, glaring at the stallion fiercely, but the horse understood it as playful and he happily took off in a circle of bucks and leaps around the man. He continued bumping Riyadh as the man tried to turn his head to watch the young woman walk away and eventually the stallion got what he wanted and they spent a good few minutes running around through the grass, Riyadh growling under his breath about how he'd 'get the damn horse and make him wish he'd never set foot on this Earth'.

Next part: In progress
Word count: 1287

Artist's note: This drawing has been in the works for a looong time now... It's nice to get to make a green background again but I'm not particularly happy with it, either And yes, Zamil is still in need of a reference.

Other art of Zamil and Riyadh

Zamil's original design by SilvesterVitale

Riyadh, Sevda, and Zamil all belong to me

Tools used: Intuos pen and touch and Medibang
Time: --
References:
Starlight107 by Breathless-dk
Numerous google images

Description
Previous part: On the road | -- Chapter 3 --

Story - Chapter 4
Time passed until it eventually found Riyadh, his new Maharajan stallion, and the remaining handful of his bodyguards and their assigned horses in the comfortably warm Turkish weather near the coast of the Black Sea. Some of the hired soldiers had strayed away from the long journey because they'd lost heart in it, though for the most part the ones who had left had been dismissed by Riyadh; he only wanted the most loyal, the ones who wouldn't crack under pressure and slit his throat in the dead of night for his money. He'd driven the remaining men like a madman trying to escape his death, dragging them through the smothering heat by day and the bone-chilling cold by night until all their horses collapsed in the sand from exhaustion. All apart from Zamil, who seemed so immune to the trying journey that Riyadh eventually decided to ride him bareback and sell his fast-wearing grey Arabian at a horse market despite the increased discomfort trackless riding would cause.
It was in a small yet wealthy town bustling with lively folk as they went about their small, simple lives that Riyadh finally decided to rest from the long, tiring journey, and his soldiers couldn't help but feel relief. It was a straining test of loyalty, following the dark, mysterious stranger as he traveled through the land like a man pursued by a thousand demons – despite the handsome pay. Riyadh found accommodation for everyone despite the stubborn opposition of the town council, who were easily swayed by the glint of money, and allowed them their freedom; the men could leave with their horses if they wanted, or they could stay and follow him to the end. It was a question of whether this would ever come to an end or if it was his destiny to run forever until he'd seen every land in the world, however, so most remaining men reluctantly opted to leave and departed to find their way either to their home or to a new employer. Only three remained.

There was no rest for Riyadh, however; the day after their arrival he led Zamil out of the stable to the large, rolling fields stretching out around the town with new tack for the stallion resting on his arms. The pair had grown very close over the course of the journey and the once dangerously high-strung stallion now walked beside the man like an old friend, glancing around his new surroundings with a nonchalant calmness as he lazily cocked his ears at the sounds reaching them.

  “You'd do yourself good if you were a bit more alert, you know,” Riyadh told the horse with a soft grunt, though Zamil just looked at him with a sassy toss of his handsome head. They came to a halt near some crumbling stone ruins that had probably once been a house and Riyadh started to place the tack on Zamil. The stallion stood still though he watched the man with a keen expression, curious to know what these new things were. Riyadh left the girth for last, knowing it would shock the stallion to suddenly have the weight on his back actually strapped to him, but Zamil didn't do more than flick his ears and look at him with a questioning expression.

  “Dork,” Riyadh huffed affectionately, rubbing his forehead before he grabbed the bridle. Zamil didn't take to that as easily, however; he started to struggle fiercely as Riyadh put a thumb in his mouth and slipped the metal bar into his mouth, pinning his ears as he tried to fight back. He ducked away from the man sharply as soon as he got a sense of freedom, kicking out at him but meeting thin air, then bolted away and ran until he was a small speck in the distance.

  “Aren't you worried he'll run away forever?” a voice asked Riyadh and the man looked over in the direction it had come from quickly, his hand reflexively traveling to the hilt of the vicious dagger hanging at his side. A young woman was standing a few steps away from him, a large shawl wrapped loosely over her head and her shoulders and an empty basket resting under her arm, part of which was exposed because she'd rolled the sleeves of her long, elegant dress up to her elbows. Her long, curling jet black hair fell down along her sides and back from under the shawl and Riyadh looked at her quietly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “No,” he finally said shortly, hoping she would leave him and move on with the usual humble respect women had for men. She didn't, however.

  “Then call him back,” she said, almost as though it was a challenge, and for a moment there was a stunned silence as he peered at her.

  “Alright,” he agreed slowly, keeping his eyes on her a few moments longer before turning them back onto the speck in the distance called Zamil. He whistled shrilly and the stallion, despite being highly insulted at the fact that the man had shoved a piece of metal into his mouth, came galloping back with some frisky bucks. A bright grin broke out on the girl's face.

  “I'm impressed,” she hummed with a smart look, “I'd expected him to leave you like all your soldiers did.”

  “I let them leave, there's a difference.”

  “So you say, but it was really a test for them, wasn't it?” she asked keenly while keeping her intense look glued on him, “You wanted to comb out all the ones who wouldn't be loyal until the very end. Guess it just injured you, huh? Three soldiers compared to eight, that's not a lot.”

  “Don't talk about things you know nothing about,” Riyadh told her sharply, starting to feel insulted by this woman's unwanted boldness, but she just laughed it off.

  “I was expecting more of you, you know,” she replied, “You seemed like a smart, open-minded man but I guess you're just like the rest.” She shrugged and started to turn to walk away again.

  “What's your name?” he asked, his voice stopping her in her tracks. She looked over at shoulder at him with a smart grin.

  “Why should I tell you?” she teased playfully and although Riyadh felt her poking at his temper with her childish sense of humour, he couldn't help but smile a little.

  “Because I asked for it,” he responded softly. He was smooth and charming, not to mention handsome, and when his somber mask was penetrated he could prove to be a pleasant man who could convince anyone with only a few sly words. He was dangerous. The girl just smiled, however.

  “Sevda,” she responded and, when he opened his mouth to respond, added, “And I know you're Riyadh, you don't have to tell me.” Zamil came to a stop by Riyadh before the man could respond, however, shoving his head against the man's shoulder strongly and causing him to stumble, and Sevda laughed again while turning around and walking away.

  “Zamil,” Riyadh growled in annoyance, glaring at the stallion fiercely, but the horse understood it as playful and he happily took off in a circle of bucks and leaps around the man. He continued bumping Riyadh as the man tried to turn his head to watch the young woman walk away and eventually the stallion got what he wanted and they spent a good few minutes running around through the grass, Riyadh growling under his breath about how he'd 'get the damn horse and make him wish he'd never set foot on this Earth'.

Next part: In progress
Word count: 1287

Artist's note: This drawing has been in the works for a looong time now... It's nice to get to make a green background again but I'm not particularly happy with it, either And yes, Zamil is still in need of a reference.

Other art of Zamil and Riyadh

Zamil's original design by SilvesterVitale

Riyadh, Sevda, and Zamil all belong to me

Tools used: Intuos pen and touch and Medibang
Time: --
References:
Starlight107 by Breathless-dk
Numerous google images