Riding high on his brown persian war horse, Abdul was the last one to enter the make shift army camp. It was way too dark that day and even the moon hid behind the clouds. The day which went by was catastrophic for Abdul’s camp. Even though the attack of the raiders from the eastern bank was not a surprise, many from his brigade fell to the sharper weapons.
In his tent, Abdul paced feverishly and turned back every other moment as if he was expecting someone. His messenger was to arrive 2 days back. There has been no news from the western zones as well.
Lost in his thoughts, he gulped in the last glass of Arak. While the drink burned its way down, Abdul heard his name being called out. He rushed out to see a perplexed sentry screaming out, pointing towards the nearby woods. As they watched, a horse gallopped in. Perched on top was a dead rider who had a note tightly held in his grasp.
Quickly regaining from the shock, Abdul pulled out the note out of his messenger’s hand.
Even in the shock and the greif of losing his men, a smile spread over his bearded face. The message was from his ally. It just had one line engraved…
“Sparrow flies north…it will soon be dawn”