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Elias lunged, dagger flashing, but Amastan moved swift as desert wind, slitting his throat in one clean stroke.
Anna found him washing blood from his hands at the well. She laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Do not mourn traitors,” she whispered. “They mourn themselves enough in the underworld.”
> Loyalty is not given. It is proven by sacrifice.
Elias stood slowly, eyes gleaming with fear and greed. “They promised me a governorship in Tunis… I am tired of sand and shadows.”
Amastan raised his sword. “Then join the shadows forever.”
That night, as the moon rose like a silver blade, Amastan found Elias crouched by the camel pens, whispering to two armed men.
“You would betray us for Ottoman gold?” Amastan asked, voice quiet as the grave.
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Inspired by @Diane-de-la-Cheneraye