The Lost Way To Misrost by Ehab Shawky - HTML preview
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63
The same old dream, and the same blazing feeling it agitates inside my chest woke me up after sunset. I got up breathing heavily, wiped my sweat, and shook off my body’s demands for more sleep. I brought some water, borrowed some soap, took shelter, and bathed. I washed my clothes and put on another clean outfit. Then I went looking for the members of my team, but none of them was present.
I asked the men about them, and they informed me that Uncle Nooraddeen summoned them for a meeting. I asked where to find them, and a man led me half the way.
He pointed towards a small cave a few feet up the mountain and returned. I climbed up and asked the guard whether I can enter or not. He told me that they were expecting me inside. When I walked in, Salamio was speaking with my uncle. When they noticed me approaching, they stopped.
Zein, Orabio, Amr, and Marwan, were sitting silently listening to the conversation.
“Welcome, lad. Hope you had enough rest.”
I didn’t know what was going on. I just nodded waiting for my uncle to explain.
“Your comrades were briefing me about your little conversation back in Fastotia.”
“Yes uncle. I wanted to talk to you about that particular issue.”
“Do you know why I gathered you all here tonight, lad?”
“No!”
“I wanted to hear your comrades’ evaluation for your performance. The purpose is to decide whether I should send you on your next mission or not.”
The response was a bit shocking, but I said, “All right, how did I do?”
The old man gave me a look implying dissatisfaction.
After a silent moment, he said, “Let me put it this way lad:
It’s a blessing from Alaha that you and your comrades are not residents in Sasan’s dungeons at this moment.”
He paused shortly then snarled, “You have subjected your comrades to uncountable dangers. Your strategy depended on conjecture. You based the whole plan upon untested substances. You involved a hundred and fifty men who operated without a solid plan whatsoever. You threw your comrades repeatedly into Sasan’s grasp without a backup plan. You never knew whether Sasan’s soldiers would imprison Amr or kill him and burn his body. You left it for Marwan to determine when and how to throw that poisonous substance on Hazeem. You left many gaps, which your comrades had to fill all the time. You were reckless to the furthest extent, and that’s not what real commanders do.”
Silence filled the place for a while. I didn’t have anything to say, so I just stood there speechless.
“Speak. Explain yourself. Why did you take all those risks?” My uncle screamed at me.
I took a moment to organise my thoughts, and then said,
“My answer couldn’t be put forward in a simple form. This is why I ask you all to be patient and give me a proper chance to explain.”
Uncle Nooraddeen leaned back in his chair and said,
“No one shall interrupt. Go ahead.”
I nodded in compliance, took a deep breath, and started explaining my decisions.
“From the first moment I learned about the resistance, there was one thing I easily noticed, and that was how well organised they were. It’s as if your main goal was to reach perfection in everything you do, and that was overwhelming. I also noticed that you always have a backup plan. You leave nothing for coincidence, and you think about all details, even the most remotely imaginable ones.
That was all admirable, except for one little detail which you’ve missed, that’s the mental development of our men.
You have imprisoned their minds thinking that their job is to follow their leaders’ orders blindly. I’m convinced that this approach produces successful results, but it’s harmful for the future of the region.”
When I said that, I noticed increased interest in my uncle’s eyes. This encouraged me to continue.
“I think that it’s the leader’s job to prepare his men to become leaders themselves. He must help them believe in themselves, and enhance their capabilities. He must leave them enough space to introduce their own ideas and thoughts into what they do. He is responsible for placing the outlines of the plan and filling in the gaps, which they fail to fill themselves. He must make sure that his men are as much involved in planning as they are in implementation.
It’s his job to find this balance. A soldier who follows orders and carries them out perfectly well is an excellent soldier. Yet, the soldier who participates in placing the plan, and carries it out making the necessary adjustments, and takes the decisions he deems appropriate, is by all means, an invincible soldier. Personally, I believe that Misrost needs the second kind, and I can’t but operate according to my convictions.”
I posed shortly thinking then continued, “Take a look at Sasan’s men. They are more like children than soldiers.
We have encountered them in battle and undercover operations. The least I can say is that their defeat was easier than to find any pride in it. On the other hand, look at Marwan. Throughout the past weeks, I have trusted him to watch my back on the battlefield, in saving my own family, and in our last operation. He’s younger than the youngest of Sasan’s men, but he has succeeded beautifully in carrying out all his tasks against them, and enriched his experience. Sasan fortifies himself with walls and scarecrows holding weapons, that’s because he fears death.
Our fears are different. Our cause could not be fortified with walls or weapons. It could only be fortified with capable,
well-trained, highly experienced men. This kind could not be prepared except when they face real dangers, and confront the enemy repeatedly.”
A long moment of silence passed before my uncle asked Zein, “What do you think?”
“I have participated in more operations than I can even remember, skipper. Although the risks in this one were much higher, and its steps were always planned moments before implementation; yet, its goals were all achieved, and this says something…”
“What is that?” my uncle asked.
“Qotazio’s approach could be reckless in our opinions.
He could be hasty with implementing his ideas, and his plans endanger the lives of those participating in them.
Nonetheless, when I watched him and his comrades operating, I didn’t see a squad commander and his soldiers, I saw five squad commanders, each one of them strong, confident, and willing to operate against all odds. Although it was their necks they were risking, none of them hesitated before carrying out his tasks.”
After Zein finished, I looked at my uncle. His eyes were shining. He looked at my comrades and said, “Lads, I shall ask you again, and I want you to think before you respond.
Would you volunteer to join Qotazio in any future operations?”
Amr and Marwan responded without hesitation,
“Yes skipper.”
“What about you two?” my uncle said directing his words to Orabio and Salamio. They looked at each other in a funny weird way, and Orabio said, “Father, are you serious!”
“Answer the question, boy,” my uncle said angrily.
“Absolutely yes. He would get himself killed without us,” Orabio responded.
“Speak for yourself only, lad,” the old man continued in the same tone. “What about you Salamio?”
Salamio nodded in a way implying he had a different opinion. He got up and said, “I’m more of a spy than a soldier. I have been operating undercover for more than I can remember. As such, my opinion is that: although his plan was risky, Qotazio has shown real genius in putting it forward in such a short period of time, or in no time to be precise. His strategy in controlling Sasan’s moves and using them to our advantage was successful and efficient.
The thing that I find weird in all this is that he was operating without any fear. It was as if he knew without any doubt that we would all succeed. That is what bewilders me the most. I don’t know what to call this! It’s not over-optimism, and it wasn’t confidence either. If there were such a thing as foresight, I would have said that he had it. Until I can figure this out, or find a reasonable explanation, I do not recommend that he would be sent on undercover operations.”
My uncle nodded in understanding. He stared at the ground thinking deeply, and then he raised his head towards me and said, “What about you, lad? What’s your evaluation of your comrades’ performance? How did they perform under your command?”
I found the question a bit weird in this context, but I replied simply, “There is no better team. Throughout the mission, none of them ever hesitated to play his role as designed. They all performed more brilliantly than I expected. If I were given the choice to join any team and answer to its commander, I would choose this team, and accept to work under the command of any of its members.”
I swear that I saw a smile in my uncle’s eyes, but he said angrily, “I did not ask you for a tact answer, boy. I asked you for your real opinion.”
“That’s my real opinion and final word, uncle,” I responded firmly.
The old man shook his head saying, “You’re still not eager to lead, are you?”
“I don’t even understand what this means. Leaders are nothing but servants for those whom they lead. Why would anyone be so eager to assume such a huge responsibility?
This
has
always
been
something
beyond
my
understanding…”
“Stop it, lad,” my uncle said raising his hand. He gave Zein a look, which he understood.
“Let’s go, lads,” Zein said to my comrades. He walked out of the cave, and they followed him.
After that, my uncle got up and walked past me towards the dark end of the cave. To my surprise, he returned with three hooded men and Lady Rashida. I backed up so that they may pass easily. They sat around my uncle, and the three men removed their hoods. Obviously, they weren’t Misrostians. The first was blond with hazel eyes, handsome features, and dark brown beard and mustaches. He must be Shamalian, I thought. The second had tanned skin, black eyes, beard, and mustaches. It was easy to identify him as Magharbian. The third, with his dark skin and tall strong built, was Afraconian without any doubt. I didn’t have a clue what was that all about. After what had happened to me ever since I set foot in Misrost, nothing seemed that much surprising anymore.
The Shamalian man looked at me and said, “Qotazio Al-Misrosty, let me introduce myself and my brothers to you…”
“You are the resistance leaders in Shamalia, Magharbia, and Afraconia,” I said looking towards every one of them as I named his country.
The man asked, “Do you know why we’re here?”
I nodded saying, “Nothing could make you risk coming here altogether except something highly important. I guess deciding to organise a massive attack on the Nastorians could be a good reason. Otherwise, you would have sufficed with sending envoys to deliver your urgent messages.”
The man smiled and said, “Your uncle invited us to attend
this
meeting.
That
was
based
on
the
recommendations of your friend, Salamio As-Shamaly.”
“How is that possible? It takes days to travel from any of your countries to Misrost, and Salamio and I just returned from our mission.”
“Salamio sent me a message three days after you left, informing me of the developments. He raised his recommendations that an urgent meeting would be held so that all leaders would listen to your point of view,”
my uncle replied.
“Then what was that all about… I mean the evaluation and the previous discussion!”
“The leaders here were briefed about your previous operations. Naturally, they had their concerns. They wanted to know you better, and evaluate your character themselves.
Consequently, we all agreed on that interesting approach.”
The Magharbian man said, “Don’t be offended, Qotazio.
This doesn’t degrade your status. It elevates it.”
“I never knew I had any status, and I surely never asked for one, but I don’t like to be toyed with,” I responded strictly.
The Shamalian said, “That was necessary. All leaders must evaluate the next steps in our strife. We must reach unanimous agreement with regards to who is best qualified to lead our joined armies in the coming battle against the Nastorians.”
64
The meeting that night took a very long time. Even after I left, my uncle remained inside the cave with the other leaders until midnight. I told them everything we learned about the Nastorians’ plans for the whole region.
I explained to them how they intend to enslave our nations by squeezing them dry from their resources.
“Their target is to force our people live in continuous poverty. They want to occupy our minds with one soul idea:
‘the means of living.’ With time, people will neglect highly important matters, like the education of their children, the development of their knowledge legacy, and the progress of their countries.”
I told them about Amr’s secret investigations during our mission. He was always worried because the people showed extreme fear from Sasan and his soldiers. “When they learned that the king’s loyal men were fighting against Sasan’s forces, they didn’t name them resistance. They even silenced anyone who dared do so.”
I suggested that we join forces, assemble the strongest army we can, and declare a state of war against the Nastorians. My opinion was to start our confrontations in Shamalia. After that, we would move westwards until we free the entire region.
“The Nastorians’ primary objective is to force our people live in fear and complete submission. They want them to become accustomed to living as slaves.
Consequently, they won’t need to exert any effort to do whatever they want to our countries. When this happens, and the persecution becomes unbearable, our people will find it easier to fight among themselves than to face the real enemy. The strong will use the weak. The rich will enslave the poor. Robbery, waylay, and crime will ensue. Thence, people will start accusing each other of treason. Eventually, they shall end up killing themselves instead of the real enemy. If we don’t stop them now, they will surely succeed, and the next generations won’t stand a chance.”
After the elders heard what I had to say, my uncle gave me permission to return to my comrades. When I approached the entrance of the cavern, they were awaiting my return.
“What happened?” Orabio asked.
“I can’t believe what you did,” I said directing my words at Salamio.
“What are you talking about? All I did was help you convey your point of view to the supreme council. I found it important to make them listen to what we discussed back at Fastotia,” Salamio responded.
“Why did you pull that act back there?” I asked angrily.
“Calm down, lad,” Orabio said, “we never saw the leaders or spoke to them. We don’t even know how they look like. Father summoned us and ordered us to answer his questions without the slightest trial to beautify the answers.
All he said was that the leaders would be attending, and they were going to take important decisions based on tonight’s meeting.”
Salamio nodded in agreement, and added, “These people aren’t like us. They have their complicated ways of evaluating every matter. They don’t just follow their instinct as most of us do. This was their way of evaluating your character themselves. And since that they spent all that time listening to you, you must have passed their test.”
After a moment of silence, I asked him, “Were you ordered to spy on us during our mission?”
He smiled sarcastically and said, “Would it matter if I was?”
“Well, that answers my question, you little weasel.”
“Bug off…”
“You haven’t told us what happened in there yet,”
Amr said interrupting our silly debate impatiently. I call it silly because for him it probably was. Amr was always dead earnest. His childhood and teenage years weren’t easy.
Orabio shook his head in agreement and said, “Amr is right. Our people’s future is in danger, and you two are arguing like children.” He looked at me and asked,
“What the hell took you so long in there?”
I briefed them about the meeting, and they all seemed worried. I was a bit nervous as I spoke; our situation was highly critical in my opinion.
We remained silent until Marwan asked, “Now what?”
I looked at him unable to understand what he meant, so he said, “I mean: what are we going to do?”
“The obvious. We shall wait for the council’s decisions.”
“Tonight?” he asked.
“Yes, tonight.”
He seemed to hate my answer, so I asked him, “What’s wrong, Marwan?”
He shrugged saying, “Nothing, it’s just that I wanted to eat something, and get some rest. The time I spent the past days spying inside Bohart’s house and listening from behind walls to Sasan’s conversations, was more stressing than all the fights I’ve participated in combined.”
Salamio smiled and said, “Finally! Someone says something that makes sense. Do you all realise now how stressing it is to be a spy?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I replied.
“Flatter myself! Didn’t you hear what that brilliant young man just say?”
I pointed at Marwan smiling sarcastically and said,
“He’s still young. He has a lot to learn. Who would listen to what he says!”
Marwan frowned and looked at me saying, “You just praised my performance in front of everyone back there.”
“That was just a compliment. Don’t take everything I say literally.”
Marwan’s face reddened and he looked bewildered by this sudden change. I couldn’t help laughing at his stunned expression.
“Don’t let him get to you, lad. He’s just teasing you,”
Orabio said patting the young man’s back. “Marwan is right, let’s go eat something and have some rest till the council’s meeting ends.”
We went into the cavern, and what we saw was beautiful.
The men were standing in ranks, praying in the faint light penetrating the cave’s openings. Amr seemed delighted when he saw that. Being raised by a sheikh, he was the most religious amongst us. As weird as it may sound, his spiritual nature reminded me of my grandmother. Like her, he was sincere, simple-hearted, easygoing, and never playful.
I have always admired that in him, though I never got the chance to tell him so. He handed me a waterskin, and asked me to pour the water slowly so that he may perform ablution. We helped each other out and joined the calm congregation. The prayers that night were different from any other. The spiritualities I felt were overwhelming.
With every prostration, bow, and verse recited, I felt that our creator was watching us. I sensed his care surrounding the place, and I swear that I heard a voice in my mind saying, “Do not grieve, you shall play a big role in freeing Shamalia.”
I never told anyone about that voice before. I thought it was the sound of my inner-self speaking with what I hoped would happen. Nonetheless, I wondered why it said:
‘Do not grieve?’
65
“When you were directing your questions to me, I felt that you detested my performance in that mission. Is this feeling true, uncle?” I asked the old man as we sat alone in the small cave after the meeting was over.
The old man smiled and said, “Absolutely not. I just had to make it look this way. I was asking the same questions the other leaders issued after they were briefed of your previous missions. They had their concerns, and they needed explanations. These concerns had to be put forward without any leniency. The problem, my boy, is that you do not know any of the men you met today. If they were the
ones to ask those questions directly, you wouldn’t have spoken your heart as you did. You would have felt that they were attacking you, and your answers would have been defensive. All we wanted to do was give you a chance to express yourself, and show who you really are without any mummery. This is why I acted that way. I was only a temporary replacement for my brothers in the council.”
“How did they evaluate me from this short conversation, uncle?” I asked curiously.
He raised his brows indicating that my question was naïve and said, “You’re like an open book. It’s enough to ask you a question, and you spell out all of your thoughts and ideas on the matter. Their criteria may differ, but they all noticed how you understood leadership in an astounding manner. You do not see it as a honourary position, but rather a burden, and a huge responsibility. Meanwhile, your men showed an overwhelming desire to continue working under your command. All this proved to them without any doubt that you are a person worth listening to.”
I thought for a moment then said, “But isn’t Salamio the one they should listen to the most? His opinion in my performance was negative. Why did they ignore his evaluation?”
My uncle smiled cunningly and said, “Don’t think about what Salamio does, or says. You’ll lose your mind.”
I frowned unable to figure out the hidden meaning behind those words.
“By nature, he’s a spy, and he has been a secret envoy for ten years. He has his way with words. When he says something, he knows exactly its effect on those listening.
He also knows how that effect differs from one listener to another. When he described your leadership pattern, he made it manifest that it was bewildering. He said that he couldn’t find any explanation for its success. For you that may have sounded like disparagement, but for our guests, it was different. If I were in their place, I would have found
his description a proof that you are a genius. A field leader whose plans could not be anticipated by a professional spy is surely fit to lead.”
My uncle laughed before he resumed speaking,
“That boy is brilliant. With this answer, he made me ask you about your opinion in your comrades’ performance, and your answer came as he most probably expected.
That somehow ended it. He knew that was all the other leaders needed to hear.”
I was stunned by my uncle’s analysis for Salamio’s words. “Does this mean that he was lying to make me look better?” I asked.
The old man stopped laughing, and responded hurriedly,
“No, absolutely not. He said what he believed in, but in a way that would make it easier for me to finish the evaluation session. A way that made our guests realise your qualities without the need for further investigation.”
With that said, I felt as if I never knew my friend before.
He was more cunning than what I ever thought.
“What was the council’s decision, uncle?”
“Not now lad. Get some rest. Tomorrow morning, I shall inform you of the decisions we have taken.”
I nodded obediently and waited for my uncle to get up, but he didn’t.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” I asked.
“No, I have some work to do first,” he said looking at a big pile of maps and scrolls placed by his side.
“I’ll stay with you…”
“No lad, you will go to sleep. Good night!”
I understood it was an order. “Good night uncle,”
I responded. I moved the candles closer to where he was sitting, then left.
66
The next morning, Uncle Nooraddeen summoned my comrades and me. We gathered inside the small cave.
It seemed that he spent all night working. We greeted him and gathered around a small table that was brought into the place after I left the night before. Maps for Misrost, Shamalia, and different parts of the region were spread atop the table.
“The council has decided to free Shamalia from the Nastorians’ hands.” Uncle Noor started the meeting with those words. My comrades’ faces shone with excitement when he uttered them. Salamio winked at me in a gesture that I understood perfectly well.
“The leaders agreed to assemble an army at the southern borders of Shamalia six weeks from now. This army shall comprise forces from five countries, namely Shamalia, Misrost, Magharbia, Afraconia, and some forces shall join from Pharania in the south. Every force shall have its appointed leader, but all leaders shall answer to the commander appointed by the council. Any orders he issues are the council’s orders. They must be followed without any questioning. The resistance leaders in every country shall plan the assembly and transportation of their forces to the location designated on Shamalia’s map. The number of soldiers to participate in this operation from each country has been set. Three thousand strong soldiers must be chosen and prepared to form the Misrostian force. Five hundred professional archers, two thousand swordsmen, and five hundred strong men shall be equipped with spears and heavy shields. We already have those men, but they are scattered all over Misrost. The journey to Shamalia takes about five days. This means that you have five weeks to assemble the Misrostian force.”
My uncle paused observing our faces. What he was saying was understandable, but the quick manner in which he spoke and the tension in his tone pressed our nerves to the furthest extent.
“This is war, lads. It’s not a mission to which you’re sent inside Misrost. If anything goes wrong, there will be no second chances. It’s a life-death situation, so you better prepare well and make sure you’re up to this. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes skipper,” my comrades replied.
The old man coughed in fatigue and held his chest.
Apparently, he spent the whole night working. I was about to ask him to rest, but Orabio signalled me to stop. After a moment, he took a deep breath, and said, “Salamio.”
My friend stood straight and answered, “Yes skipper.”
“You are responsible for gathering the archers. Make sure they are highly skilled and well equipped. At least fifty of them must know how to make strong bows, and piercing arrows. Don’t forget, they must all be able-bodied, and have sword combat skills.”
Uncle Noor handed Salamio a map, and continued,
“In this map, I have marked the locations of some of our forces. You shall visit each location, and select the men yourself. I’ve already prepared a letter carrying my orders ciphered and sealed. Present it to the captains in charge, and they shall grant you all the help you need. I have indicated the routes, which we keep our eyes on constantly.
Our scouts are scattered all over these areas. Memorise this map by heart. You shall not carry it with you. You shall not show it to any of your comrades or disclose its contents.
These details are for you alone. If the men you choose ask any questions, all you can tell them about their mission is that it’s essential for Misrost’s future. Nonetheless, you must inform them that it’s considered a suicide mission.
Whether to accept or refuse being part of your force, is something they must decide on their own. With the slightest
hesitation you note on one’s face, strike his name off your list, he is not ready yet, but don’t tell his captain. You shall start from the south and move northwards as you gather the required force. You must reach the gathering location five weeks from today. The complete Misrostian force shall meet there and start the journey to Shamalia. Do you understand your mission?”
“Yes skipper, I do.”
“Do you have any questions, lad?”
Salamio hesitated before he spoke, but then he asked,
“What if I failed to gather the required number of men, skipper?”
My uncle frowned in anger and said, “What do you mean, lad?”
“I mean, what if the number of men ready to fight and sacrifice their lives, was less than our expectations? What if those who accept to join this force were less than the numbers required?”
My uncle seemed worried. He stared at Salamio silently for a moment then responded, “Then we will have to achieve victory with the men we’ve got.”
He paused shortly to make sure that his words were well accepted and understood, and then said, “Go now. Study the map well, and then return it to me. You shall leave in the afternoon.”
Salamio took his assignment letter and the mission’s map, then left to prepare himself.
My uncle looked at us and said, “Did you all understand what I just told your brother moments ago?” We confirmed that we did, so he resumed, “Good. It applies to you as well.
Orabio, you are the strongest among your companions.
You shall be responsible for gathering the spearmen force.
They must be strong, able to carry their heavy shields with one arm and fight with the other. The shields’ design and making method are thoroughly described in this scroll.
The spears must be at least six feet long, complete with
sharpened blade endings. Make sure that your men are well trained on how to fight as a single unit. They shall be the protecting armour of our forces.”
The old man handed Orabio his map, assignment letter, and the design drawings of his men’s gear. “Study those very well, and return them before you leave. Good luck, son.”
Orabio nodded respectfully and left.
Uncle Noor looked at Amr, Marwan, and me. He spread a new map on the table, stared at it for a moment then said,
“Your mission is the most critical, boys.” He took a deep breath, then continued, “You shall gather the swordsmen, and lead them on the battlefield. Luckily, we have many good Misrostian swordsmen, much more than this number.
It shouldn’t be hard to collect them, but your task on the battlefield is something else. I won’t discuss the details of our plan now. I only informed you of this part because you should keep it in mind while you gather your force.
A skilled swordsman who fights alone is good, but there is nothing stronger on the battlefield than a squad of skilled swordsmen who know how to fight together, protect each other’s backs, and move flawlessly infiltrating the enemy’s lines. Such force is lethal; it could not be beaten. I want you to choose those who form teams and know how to fight harmoniously as they advance. I know that you fought on different occasions against bigger forces. This shall help you select your men, and test their capabilities yourselves.”
The old man handed me our map and said, “Those men shall need an invincible leader on the battlefield, Qotazio.
He must be ready to give what it takes to lead them.
I believe this leader is you, so always remember how a true leader is identified.”
I nodded silently knowing what my uncle meant, and then left with my two comrades to prepare for our new mission.
67
The first stop in our journey was near the far southwestern border of Misrost. It was a training camp amidst the mountains of the sandy stretch extending between Misrost and Magharbia. We travelled for seven days, only stopping for rest. We had to travel light, so the food and water supplies we had were barely enough to suffice the first three days. The route designated on our mission’s map included an oasis at midway. We recharged our viands with dates, fed and watered the horses, and refilled our waterskins. On the eighth day morning, we reached the mountain chain illustrated on our mission’s map. We rode by their side until we reached a distinct mountain whose rocks were darker than all surroundings.
At its foot, we stopped, got off our horses, and approached the mountain slowly. Ten feet away, an arrow penetrated the sand a few inches away from my feet, so I stopped.
Within a blink of an eye, about twenty armed men surrounded us. I informed them that we were carrying a message to their captain. Their leader approached us, and he hit me with his sword’s hilt on my stomach.
“Liar. Messengers travel alone. You’re Sasan’s damn scouts,” he said.
I coughed as I straightened my back, and replied, “Just take us to your captain…” before I continued he hit me again. He was about to land a third strike, but I stepped aside blocking his hand and punched him on the nose forcefully.
His comrades assumed a combat position, but I stepped forward and said, “Stand down—all of you. We are your brothers, and we have come carrying an urgent message to Captain Kelany. Escort us to him. Let him decide whether we are truthful or not.”
Their leader got up wiping the blood off his nose and said, “You better not be lying.” He signalled his men. Three of them approached us from behind. They blindfolded us,
tied our hands behind our backs, and then pushed us harshly towards our destination. We were stumbling as we walked.
From the echo, it was obvious that we were walking in a deep cavern. On reaching a certain spot, the men’s leader said, “Wait here.” He walked away, and after a relatively long while, a man approached and said, “Who are you, and what message do you have for me?”
“Are you Captain Kelany?”
“Yes, who’s asking?”
“My name is Qotazio Al-Misrosty, and these are my comrades, Amr Gad, and Marwan Ad-Danaf. We are here seeking your help.”
“Wait, lad. You said your name was Qotazio Al-Misrosty!”
“Yes sir, Qotazio Mohab Al-Misrosty.”
“Untie them immediately,” Captain Kelany said as he pulled off my blindfolds. “Sorry about this, lad. We’re not used to visitors.”
I nodded in understanding, picked out my uncle’s letter, and handed it to him. He read it quickly then raised his head saying, “We have to start right away. What do you need me to do?”
A while later, I was standing amidst the valley—in which Captain Kelany’s men trained—with Amr and Marwan at my sides. Captain Kelany had led us through the deep cavern until we reached its end. There, the men moved a big rock hiding a secret entrance leading into the place.
It was a naturally hidden valley, surrounded by mountains from all sides. The only access to the place was that cavern we have passed through. We stood holding wooden swords and shields used in training. I held two swords and dropped the shield. We agreed with Captain Kelany on a certain strategy. His men were going to attack us with progressive forces of twenty men at a time. I asked him to allow the men to form their own forces. I stipulated that each force must plan its attack, and they must not witness the attacks
preceding theirs. They can only ask their comrades for advice. There were four hundred men in this camp.
This meant that we had twenty forces to fight. The rules were simple: the force that succeeds in forcing us to retreat towards the end of our side of the valley wins. On the other hand, if any of my two comrades or I reached the end of their side, we win. If anyone loses his weapon, he could not continue to fight.
Before noon, we were standing amidst the valley waiting for the first attack. The first formation came out in five consecutive ranks, each comprising four soldiers.
They awaited Captain Kelany’s signal to begin their attack.
When he gave the order, the first two ranks split and started flanking us. The remaining three ranks continued advancing in the middle. Marwan and Amr assumed a back-to-back position immediately facing the men who flanked us.
They were trying to distract us seeking to gain the upper hand. Seeing this, I decided to flip the table over their heads and see how they would react. Instead of retreating, I ran forward and attacked the weak spot between their middle forces and the left rank. It was the spot having the least number of men. Before they realised what I was doing, I had already disarmed three men and beaten three others.
After this, I had the opportunity to run forward, and reach the end of their side without any obstacles. The men were unable to believe what happened.
I signalled Captain Kelany to send in the next force.
Those men came out and assumed the wedge formation.
This was one of my favourite formations when I trained with my comrades during our teenage years. I knew its strengths and weaknesses. I ordered my comrades to take my position at the heart, and do their best to break the attack formation, while I stood a few feet behind them. As the attack started, Amr and Marwan used their shields in blocking the men’s strikes and fought back with all their strength. The formation’s shape started to change.
The soldiers at the rear lines began to advance quicker than the ones facing Amr and Marwan. Soon their ranks became arched like a crescent. Before they flanked my comrades, I attacked the side I found holding more gaps. This time, I had to strike down five men before I was able to penetrate their lines and force them to lose.
The third force assumed a staggered formation. That was easier to beat than the former ones. The fourth force was the one that inspired me the most. Those men sent one of them to challenge me in a man-to-man swordfight. I understood that their strategy was to get rid of me, then overpower my comrades. It was not an easy duel; the man was skilled.
After I disarmed him, I shouted at my comrades to attack, and the three of us moved forward quickly utilising the surprise element. We engaged the unorganised force in an open battle for a while. Amr threw down his shield and grabbed the sword of a man he disarmed. Then we both attacked with full force giving Marwan a chance to finish the battle. I was inspired not by that force’s attack, but by what I saw Amr doing. It was the first time for me to see him fight with two swords. When I asked him about that, he told me that he had been watching me, and he learned a lot of my moves.
The fifth force used the diagonal formation. The sixth used the square formation. Each we took out easily.
After this, I asked Captain Kelany to give us some rest and give his men a chance to come up with a better plan.
He seemed angry at the consecutive losses of his men.
This meant that he was not doing a good job. I took shelter with my two comrades in the shaded part of the valley.
We untied our belts and dried our sweat as we stretched our feet in fatigue. One of the men brought us water and some food. As we sat there, Amr said whispering, “Aren’t we breaking their will, and destroying their self-confidence this way?”
I nodded and said, “Better us than the enemy. Now they will know that they still have a lot to learn, and more training to endure.”
“I agree, but aren’t we overdoing this? I received my training in a similar camp, and I know how those men feel,”
he replied.
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“Why don’t we give them a better chance?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean let’s even the odds a bit. Let Marwan and I form two forces from the men we just defeated, and face each other. My target here is to give you a better chance to observe the men’s performance, and choose from among them the ones you see most talented on the battlefield.”
I found this a good idea. We informed Captain Kelany of this new approach, and we started applying it right away.
I took a higher spot beside the captain and watched the battle between the two forces. Due to the valley’s dimensions, we decided that each force would include twenty-five men only. After their previous defeat, the men were eager to give their best, and it went better than I expected. As I watched the first encounter led by Amr and Marwan, I saw some promising fighters who just needed more training. They needed someone to enhance and enrich their points of strength. This approach took more time than the previous one. In the first battle, Amr’s team won.
I conferred with my comrades and chose talented fighters from both sides. Marwan suggested that we take Captain Kelany’s opinion in the men we choose. “He knows his men best,” he said. The captain preferred to tell us his opinion after we test all men. “I have a good plan, but let’s keep it until the end,” was his response.
The battles continued until sunset. We ended up choosing a hundred and fifty men. At night, we sat with Captain Kelany and asked him about his opinion. He said,
“I saw your father once at the camp where I received my training. He chose me himself. Back then, we had a tradition: the ones chosen must face those who were not in an open-field battle. It was like a graduation ceremony.
If they win, they immediately receive their new posts.
If they lose, the reasons for their loss would be evaluated, and the ones responsible were replaced by the best fighters from the other side. This was a second chance for our leaders to make sure that their choices were the best.”
I found this a brilliant idea. I asked the captain to inform the men who weren’t chosen that they were going to face their comrades the first thing after sunrise. When he asked me who should lead them, I told him that I would.
Meanwhile, I agreed with Amr and Marwan to lead the men we have chosen. We decided to make it a fight to the last man. For one force to win, it must disarm all men on the other side. It was an excellent chance to make sure that we chose the best fighters, and left none behind.
Amr and Marwan started making preparations and placing their plan, and I did the same. I chose five from among my men. They were the ones I deemed most skilled and capable. I briefed them of my plan.
“We exceed them in number by a hundred men, so we will be the ones to attack first. We shall use the human wave tactic. Whenever we lose a soldier, the one behind him shall take his place immediately. You may have lost today, but tomorrow is a new day. You will have the chance to do better and benefit from what you’ve learned. Does anyone have a question?”
“What formation shall we employ in our attack, sir?”
one of the men asked.
“We will divide ourselves into five equal forces, forty-five men each. Every one of you shall lead one of them.
The commander of each force shall arrange his men in five lines. Between every force and the next, a twenty feet
distance shall be spared. The forces shall be deployed according to the developments on the battlefield.”
“What about the remaining twenty-five men?” another man asked.
“They shall act as part of your forces, but they shall not engage in combat except under my command.”
“To do what exactly?”
“No need to be hasty. Tomorrow you’ll see everything.”
68
The next day, a short while after sunrise, all men were standing in formations in the open fields behind the mountains. Amr and Marwan divided their men into three separate forces. The one in the middle stood in ranks, while the two side forces assumed the column formation. These two stood at significantly far distances from the middle force. That was very smart. They knew that I was going to attack, so they wanted to force me divide my forces.
Of course, I didn’t satisfy their wish that easily. I ordered my men to fake an attack on the middle force, and when they reach midway, the two back squads would split and attack the force on the right.
“But the force on the left will flank us from the other side,” one of the squad commanders said.
“This is where my small squad comes in,” I responded.
“We will take them by surprise.”
“Surprise! This is an open field battle, how will you do that?” another asked.
“Don’t be hasty. You’re about to witness everything.”
My men started advancing towards the other side of the field. At midway, the two back squads split from formation and attacked the force on the right. The other three squads attacked the men in the middle. The men standing in defence blocked the first impact of our attack with their shields, and then the sword duels started. Amr was leading
them in their defence. The way he was moving was exquisite. The force on the left never moved, they just stood there waiting. I have to say that our earlier choices were excellent. The men I was leading were unable to break through their lines and were losing their weapons faster than their rivals. I ordered one of my squads to manoeuver and flank Amr’s forces from the left side. That gave good results and helped reduce our losses, but it also produced the chance that Amr’s left forces were waiting for. They advanced towards my men from behind. As they approached, I screamed, “Now.” Suddenly a gap opened amidst my men’s lines, and I came out running in front of the twenty-five men towards the left forces. They were surprised no doubt, and they turned to face us. Meanwhile, the remaining wave of my men advanced and flanked Amr’s middle forces from the right side. Things were getting crazy in the field at that moment. For any observer, it certainly looked like a real battle.
After a long arduous struggle, less than twenty men remained armed from Amr’s men, and over double that number from mine. We reformed our lines for one final attack. I was unable to spot Marwan throughout the battle, and that worried me. Our last attack began. It was my first time to engage Amr in a man-to-man duel, and that was thrilling. He was imitating some of my moves or at least trying to. I enjoyed battling with him and prolonged our duel to learn more about my friend’s capabilities. Suddenly I heard a voice screaming, “Behind you.” I faked an attack on Amr’s left side, and as he moved to block it, I kicked one of his feet hard forcing him to fall. I retreated and looked back. A squad of ten men rose from under the sands left to midfield, and attacked my men from behind. That was a brilliant move. Within no time, I found myself surrounded by eight men pointing their training swords at me. Among them was Marwan who stood smiling in pride.
“Touché,” I said in admiration.
69
“What’s your opinion?” I asked Captain Kelany as we walked back towards the valley.
He said, “That was an excellent training battle I saw out there, but still, war is something else. Those men have never been in a real battle before. They need more training and special preparations. They are only armed with swords and light shields, will this be enough for what you’re up to?
Besides, there is the matter of clothing. If those men are going to contribute in a real battle, they must wear a uniform. You still have many preparations to make, lad.
You will need horses. All we have here are fifty horses, and I cannot spare them all. How are you going to travel back to Magharbia without rides to carry you?”
Before noon, Amr, Marwan, and I left with a hundred and fifty soldiers. We took turns in riding the horses we had, and sometimes we walked and let the beasts rest. Our next stop was an old fortress, built by our ancestors as a defence point amidst Misrost’s western wilderness. The place was three days away travelling on foot. No one dared approach it because of its reputation. It was said that the fortress was haunted, and all those who tried to go near it either disappeared or ended up mad. People have always found it easier to believe in myths than to work their minds in finding logical answers. The ghosts living in the place were nothing but a cohort of the resistance men. The place’s reputation was nothing but an urban-myth they invented to cover up for their presence. On the third day evening, we reached the place. I looked at my comrades and said,
“Here we go again. Wait here while I go get arrested by the men in there, and tell them who we are.”
I took one of the horses and rode out towards the gates of the fortress. As I approached, I heard strange sounds.
Weird looking shadows started hovering all around. Some things seemed to be moving beneath the sand. They were
approaching the spot where I stood. I would have found that intimidating if I hadn’t already known the truth about the place. Suddenly a rope caught my legs and pulled them up hanging me upside down.
“I’ve come bearing a message to commander Azimov,”
I said in a moderately loud voice.
I received no answer for a while, and then several big dark bodies appeared. They were hooded, wearing dark outfits, and covering their faces with scary masks. One of them walked towards me and stood two feet away. I smiled and said, “You can stop acting, I know…”
Bam… Before I completed what I was about to say, a hard blow landed on the back of my neck knocking me out.
A cold bucket of water woke me up a while later. I was tied inside one of the fortress’s rooms, and six men were in there staring at me.
“Who are you, and what brought you here?”
“My name is Qotazio Mohab Al-Misrosty. I’ve come bearing a message to Commander Azimov,” I replied.
Their eldest approached me, and asked, “What was the name of Mohab Al-Misrosty’s wife?”
I realised he was trying to make sure I was who I claimed to be, so I said, “My mother’s name was Hagar. She was the daughter of late Sheikh Eusef Zaher Al-Ishaqi.”
His facial features softened a bit. He untied me and said in a way that made me feel uncomfortable, “Welcome son of the nobles.” He looked at my face again and said,
“How can we help you, lad? Tell me what you need, and my men will make it happen.”
I handed him my uncle’s message and briefed him of our situation.
“I have here eight hundred men under my command.
They are all skilled swordsmen, well trained, equipped, and ready to fight. However, I can only spare half my force.
We must keep our current location intact.”
“I understand, sir. Four hundred men are enough. All I’m asking for is your permission to choose them based on my evaluation.”
He looked at me in denial, and then said after a moment of silence, “The men I have here are the remaining forces of his majesty’s army, lad. They are the best swordsmen in the whole region. If they wished to join Sasan’s men, they would have been living like kings. Nonetheless, they have been living as renegades for eight years, bearing the most horrible conditions. It was unwise of you to say that.”
His tone was harsh and intimidating. I said in embarrassment, “I apologise commander. I didn’t know that all the men here were ex-soldiers. I thought this was a training camp for the resistance men. Kindly forgive my ignorance.”
He nodded saying, “That’s all right, lad.”
I looked at his men and asked hesitantly, “Will your men accept to operate under my command, sir?”
He seemed offended by my question. He grabbed my shoulder and said, “Listen son, these are professional soldiers. The youngest of them has been one probably for more than half your lifetime. Can you explain to me why should they operate under your command, while they are the ones more experienced and more fit to lead?” the man responded with vehemence.
I remained silent for a moment, and then said, “I didn’t ask to lead, commander…”
“General,” the man interrupted what I was going to say.
I looked at him unable to understand. He was staring at me with his sharp eyes in a provocative unnecessary manner.
“I was commander eight years ago. I promoted myself and my men to the ranks we deserve a couple of months ago.”
I found what he said a bit weird at that moment, but I didn’t mind accepting it. I nodded in understanding then
said, “General, I didn’t ask to lead. The supreme resistance council gave me this assignment.”
“Listen, boy. The supreme resistance council is nothing but a bunch of idiots who think they can change the world.
Eventually, those daydreamers shall wake up, and realise that you cannot change the world. The world changes you.
Things don’t work the other way around,” Azimov growled.
I remained silent trying to control my tempers, then after a moment said, “You’re mistaken, sir.”
He moved closer to me and said, “What did you just say, boy?”
“I said you’re mistaken. The resistance men, whom you’re supposed to be one of them, are not daydreamers, and surely, they will change the world. If you can’t believe that, then excuse me for saying this, but you are a hypocrite.”
He grabbed me by my clothes, almost raising me off the ground with his strong arms. “I can tear you apart with my bare hands, lad, but I shall only spare your life for your late father’s sake. He was one of us,” Azimov growled.
“No sir, he was not, and he could have never been.
My father would have never forsaken his country and his people in times of need. He wouldn’t have sufficed with staying in this abandoned castle, while the loyal men of his country are on the verge of war. The army I’m gathering shall face the Nastorians… the traitors who have banished you all into this forsaken place, and are spreading corruption in our lands.”
“You have forgotten your place, boy.”
“No sir, you have. You claim to be soldiers, but I say you are nothing but slaves to your false ranks and useless positions,” I responded.
We stared at each other for a moment that seemed like ages. Azimov let go of my garment pushing me away.
“So you think you are better than us, and that you have the right to lead my men,” he said.
“I never said that, nor did I ever think of myself this way.
But I say this: if you’re true soldiers like you claim to be, you wouldn’t have hesitated to join us in our strife.”
“Are you calling us cowards, boy?”
I hesitated before I answered, but I couldn’t help saying,
“If this is how you like to put it, then so be it.”
“Do you think you stand a chance without us, boy?”
“Yes sir, we do. The last thing the resistance needs is a bunch of fake soldiers and scarecrows.”
Azimov was about to pull out his sword and strike my neck, but instead, he laughed loudly like a mad man.
“The resistance men are nothing but farmers, labourers, and fishermen. These are not real soldiers. One man of those you call scarecrows can take out all of your precious resistance men in a single combat, you arrogant idiot.”
“No sir, you got it backwards. One farmer from among the resistance men is a hundred times stronger in facing the enemy than all of your men together. We may not be soldiers or ranked officers, but we are true warriors.”
Azimov gave me a wolfish look saying, “Are you brave enough to prove this?”
“Sure as hell I am… Are you?” I responded without blinking.
He signalled one of his men to approach and said,
“Order the men to gather in the great hall. Let them seal all openings, and light the torches inside the place.”
70
A while later, I was standing amidst the great hall.
Commander
Azimov
addressed
his
men
saying,
“The supreme resistance council has sent us this lad to lead four hundred of our men on a secret mission. They think he is more qualified for leadership than you are. I say he’s nothing but a naïve puppy who needs to be taught a lesson.”
The men cheered for his words. Some of them gave me threatening looks, and others swore at me. Azimov continued, “We agreed to settle this the only way soldiers know… a duel with one of our swordsmen. The one who gets to keep his sword earns the right to lead.”
The men cheered again, even more loudly. When I think about that incident now, I understand those men’s attitude and reaction. They had been living in this forsaken place for eight years. They were far away from their families, and they didn’t have any contact with the real world.
All they had was each other. Hence, ethical codes, manners, and even logical thinking were all long gone. They had their own values and false ethics. All they understood was soldiery, and soldiers follow the orders of their officers.
They never answer to anyone else, and they surely don’t listen to the sound of reason. This will always be soldiers’
main vice.
“Choose from among yourselves the one you wish to represent you. Prove to the idiots’ council that you are the best soldiers there is in Misrost.” He paused for a moment looking at me, and then continued, “If not the only soldiers there is.”
The men shouted, “Dagher.” They kept on repeating the name until a big strong man in his mid-thirties walked out from between the lines. He was a fine looking fellow with thick black beard and mustaches, half-bald, with thick brows. He was wearing a sleeveless outfit that revealed his muscular arms and allowed his muscles to be more noticeable. I’m usually considered a tall person, but he was at least eight inches taller than I was.
“The one who disarms the other first wins.” The men cheered. Azimov then shouted, “May this be a lesson the idiots of the resistance council never forget.” Then he retreated signalling us to begin.
I assumed the combat position waiting for Dagher to attack first. He advanced and aimed a couple of strikes that
I received on my sword retreating. He smiled confidently and advanced again with a compound attack, and we engaged in a long conversation. I sufficed with blocking and occasionally riposted trying to understand my opponent’s technique. I didn’t want him to lose spirit, so I decided to provoke him. I feinted an attack from the upper side, and kicked him harshly in his left knee, then backed off. This was enough to drive him crazy, and urge him to start treating me like a real opponent. His face was red in anger, and if I didn’t expect it, his expression would have felt intimidating. My response was provocative; I just shrugged and raised my sword. He attacked again, but this time he was treating me more seriously. His strikes were strong, and his moves were fast and well organised.
The blows landed at me from both sides diagonally, upwards and downwards. He was a real swordsman who knew very well how to break through his opponent’s fences.
I was occupied with blocking, unable to strike back. This continued for a while before I decided to treat this like a real battle myself. I waited for the right moment, and while I swept away a descending blow, I punched Dagher on his nose saying, “My turn,” then I began to attack him. I was landing quick blows, moving sideways distracting him.
I leapt and dodged evading his blows, and counterattacked from the other direction. Whenever I got the opportunity, I punched or kicked him in the solar plexus or his stomach.
When we began this duel, the men were cheering for him only, but as things got fiercer, I heard some of them cheer for me too. I tried to strike the sword down from his hand several times, but I was unable to do so. This duel continued a while longer until I decided to use the surroundings.
There was a wooden seat a few feet away behind me. I knew it was there because I almost tripped in it while I was blocking Dagher’s blows. I feinted with my sword forcing him to raise his own, then dodged and turned from under his raised arm driving my elbow into his kidney. As he
shrieked and turned to face me, I attacked him with fast consecutive strikes driving him backwards until he hit the chair and fell on his back. At that moment, I stepped in and kicked his hand harshly forcing him to loosen his grip and let the sword fall. He tried to get up, but the tip of my sword was on his neck. I pinned him for a moment confirming my triumph, then removed the sword, and stretched my open hand towards him saying,
“Excellent duel.”
He seemed surprised at first, but then he smiled, grabbed my hand, and got up saying, “The best I’ve had so far.”
I picked up his sword and handed it back. He nodded in respect and pushed the sword in its scabbard. I looked at the men who were watching in shock what just happened.
I raised my voice saying, “Listen to me, everyone. My name is Qotazio Al-Misrosty. I’m the son of late Mohab Al-Misrosty, King Saifuddeen’s high counsellor and legitimate chief of staff. I received my education in his majesty’s training camps. Through the past ten years, I was prepared among many others for one single purpose: that is the destruction of the Nastorian dominance over our region.
Lately, I have been assigned by the supreme resistance council to carry out a mission in Magharbia. Most men would consider it a suicide mission. I’m here with direct orders from the council to gather volunteers ready and willing to give what it takes to achieve the objectives intended. This mission is vital for Misrost’s future, but I cannot force any of you to follow me to his death. I already have a couple of centuries awaiting my return behind the hill facing your fortress. We shall camp out there until the morning. Let those willing to join us, and operate under my command, ask permission from Commander Azimov.
He already knows all details about the purpose of my visit.
I shall depart with my men at sunrise.”
I said that, then handed the sword I was still holding to Commander Azimov, and left.
71
At dawn, I was waiting with Amr beside the hill, hoping to see volunteers, but no one came.
“Prepare to leave,” I ordered the men.
“Shouldn’t we dispatch a messenger to make sure that no one is coming?” Amr asked.
“No, let them be,” I said, “I saw it in their eyes. They are too proud to follow us, even for the sake of their own country.”
We started moving towards our next stop. It was two days away from this location if we marched at double speed.
Our supplies were almost over. I ordered the men to eat and drink half the usual amounts, and help one another.
We rarely rested until we reached our new destination.
It was a training camp similar to that we visited in our first stop. Thankfully, we left it two days later with a few supplies, two hundred more men, and fifty more horses.
The third stop was a small neglected town at the far southern borders of Misrost. It was established by the king’s orders to serve the caravan travellers coming from Afraconia. The main purpose was to encourage the commercial interaction by land. When I entered its skirts, half a dozen men arrested me and escorted me to the town’s steward. He was a very strange person. He rarely spoke, and he never seemed to listen to what I was saying. He didn’t even read my uncle’s letter. He sufficed with holding it in his hand disrespectfully and nodded as if he cared about what I was trying to explain. Anyway, he was kind enough to give us some food and water, but none of his men joined our small army.
We crossed the river at its narrowest span, a few miles north of the town. On the way back to the northern territories, we passed by the oasis I passed by when I was returning to Misrost months earlier. It was getting dark, so I informed the men that we would spend the night there,
and ordered them to get enough supplies of dates and water.
After that, I accompanied Amr and Marwan for a walk seeking to speak with them privately.
“Time is passing by, and we haven’t been able to gather half the number of men needed for the mission. Do you have any suggestions?”
“How many camps do we still have on our list?” Amr asked.
“We still have four more camps to visit. The way things are going, we won’t find enough men there either.”
I noticed the devastation on my comrades’ faces, but I couldn’t help saying, “I’m afraid you were right Amr.
Misrostians are too afraid… too afraid to fight for the future of their own children. This only proves that my analysis has come to pass, but much earlier than I expected.”
I looked down unable to bear the shame of being a Misrostian myself. I was unable to watch the sincerity of my friends and the young men who have joined us being betrayed by our people.
Marwan broke the silence saying, “My father can help.
He has some men under his command in the North.”
I pitied his enthusiastic heart and big hopes. I hesitated before I spoke, but I’ve always been a direct person, so I replied, “Your father is outnumbered, Marwan. If we take the men he has, this means that we are giving up our position in the North. This will surely cripple the resistance operations.”
Marwan was about to say something, but Amr grabbed his shoulder and said, “I’m afraid he’s right, lad. Besides, we have to stick to the skipper’s plan.”
“But he said that we will find more fighters than the number we need,” Marwan said refusing to give up.
“It’s obvious that the information he has isn’t true, lad.
It’s not his fault,” I said.
“No. I refuse to believe that. You’re both wrong.
My father always told me to trust the resistance decisions.
He told me that when we rescued you from Sasan’s dungeons. I didn’t believe him at first and said, ‘what can one man do?’ But he turned out to be right. Saving you has undoubtedly renewed our hopes to retrieve our country from the hands of those traitors. Soon you will come to realise this yourself.” Marwan said those words in an honest burst of anger and walked away.
Amr looked at me, and asked worriedly, “What are we going to do?”
I was frustrated by the outcome of our journey, but my words were solid enough when I answered, “We shall meet our enemies with the men we have. Battles are not won by the number of soldiers, they are won by faith in a just cause, and our cause is surely just and worthy of all sacrifices.”
Amr understood my feelings as I spoke. He patted my shoulder and said, “I’m with you brother till the end. I have always hoped to die striving for a righteous cause, and there couldn’t be a more righteous one than this.”
I liked his reply, and he noticed this on my face. As we started walking back to the men, he said, “Battles are won by faith, but numbers sure help!” and we both burst in laughter.
72
Before dawn, I woke up all sweaty, breathing heavily.
It was the same old dream as usual. I got up, walked towards the water, washed my face, and wiped away my sweat.
While I sat there drying myself with the lower part of my shirt, I saw a shadow walking in the dark amidst the palm trees. I got up hurriedly, pulled my sword, and ran after it.
I was afraid it would be one of Sasan’s scouts. I moved as quietly as possible trying to take the uninvited guest by surprise. Just when I was coming out from behind the trunk of a big palm tree, a face was there staring at me. My heart almost stopped in shock. It was the same crazy old man
I met months ago. I bent down trying to catch my breath, holding my chest in pain. When I regained my composure, I looked at him and said, “It’s you again. What are you doing… trying to scare me to death?”
His face remained expressionless, and he stared at me silently. I cannot deny that I really felt afraid at that moment. The man seemed possessed with some evil spirit.
I asked him, “Are you alright old timer?” but he never answered. “Do you need any help?” I asked again trying to make him speak but to no avail. It was one of the most awkward moments in my life. I didn’t know what to do until finally, his tongue’s seal broke, he said, “Follow me, lad.”
I hesitated to do that. My mind urged me not to follow him, but I didn’t listen to it. I followed the man until we reached the far bushy end of the oasis. There, he whistled a particular tone, and all of a sudden, many shadows started to appear from behind the surrounding palm trees.
I assumed the combat position at first, but then I noticed that there were women and children among those who appeared. I lowered my sword and looked around unable to believe what I saw. There was a whole community of people living there, men, women, teens, and children. There were hundreds of people in the place. Usually, those who pass by the oasis do not approach that part. Why would they! The water and fruitful palm trees are at the other side.
Nonetheless, I was shocked that neither I, nor any of my men, saw those people, or noticed their presence in the place.
“Who are you guys?” I asked.
The old man looked at me and said, “I heard your conversation with your friends earlier. After I consulted my people, we decided to help you with all the men we have.”
The moment I heard those words was—and still is—one of the happiest moments in my life. I looked at the congregation around me and said, “Your generous offer is
more than appreciated, uncle, but what we’re about to face is way beyond your capabilities.”
Suddenly, the old man assumed a combat position, span his staff with quick swift moves a few times, and then held it in front of my face. “I’m Fareed Ud-deen Dorgham, general of the eastern legions of the Misrostian army. After the demise of King Saifuddeen, I withdrew my men and their families from all Misrostian cities. Ever since, we have been living in this abandoned oasis. We built our own community away from the Nastorians’ corruption. We tried to live as we did before those traitors rose to power.
My men and I took care of the place. We decided to cultivate more palm trees and pastures for our herds.
Those men you see might be peasants in your eyes, but they are well-trained soldiers as well. I have a cohort of five hundred men, all experienced combatants, armed, and ready to fight for Misrost at any time. So not you, your men, or anyone else will stop us from attending to our duty towards Misrost. Do you understand you little twit?”
I was shocked, I was thrilled, I was overwhelmingly happy, and a bit offended to hear all this. A wide smile filled my face, and I said, “Then I won’t try to stop you old…
I mean general, but this army shall operate under my command by orders of the supreme resistance council.
Are you ready to accept me as your leader on the battlefield?”
General Fareed Dorgham lowered his staff and replied,
“It’s the one who chooses to strive when others decline, and insists on fighting against all odds that deserves to lead, lad.
My men and I have been hiding here for too long. We never had any hope that Misrostians will fight for their country again until you came with your men. By all means, it would be an honour to follow you, and obey your orders.”
I jumped at the man and hugged him tightly. He patted my back saying, “All right, lad, I understand. You can let go now.”
I let him go and looked at him in appreciation, so he smiled and said, “What do your men call you, young man?”
“My name is Qotazio Mohab Al-Misrosty,” I answered.
This time, it was his turn to be shocked, and to hug me tightly.
73
A while after sunrise, many of my men were roaming around the oasis searching for me. Suddenly, they heard voices approaching and noticed movement amidst the palm trees. They pulled out their swords and prepared for battle, but then they saw me walking beside General Fareed speaking naturally. Behind us, there appeared gradually five hundred men holding their shields and having their sheathed swords fixed to their waistbands. Amr and Marwan were standing at the front watching in awe, unable to understand how this happened. When I reached them, I said, “General Fareed, these are my comrades…”
“I know, lad. Haven’t I told you that I was listening to your conversation!” he looked at them and said, “From your ages, I can tell that you are Amr, and this makes you Marwan.” Then he stretched his hand saying, “I’m General Fareed Dorgham.”
They were oblivious to what was going on. Amr hemmed trying to force himself to speak and said,
“It’s an honour, sir.”
General Fareed smiled shaking their hands and said,
“The honour is all mine, lad.”
He then issued his orders to his men, “From this moment on, Qotazio Al-Misrosty shall be our leader. We shall all answer to his commands and follow him on the battlefield even if it meant our deaths. Do you understand men?”
“Yes sir,” shook the oasis as his men uttered it.
He continued, “You shall help your comrades develop their combat skills based on his instructions. If any of you wishes
to live, he better does a good job training his brothers.
They will be the ones to protect him on the battlefield.
From this moment, I never want to hear you referring to your younger brothers as they or them; it’s only we or us.
Do you understand?”
“Sir, yes sir,” again rattled our brains as they uttered it.
General Fareed looked at me and said, “Lead the way, lad, and your men shall always follow.”
When we started moving, Amr and Marwan asked me how this had happened, and I recounted to them everything.
Marwan said, “What did I tell you? I knew it.”
“Are you kidding? That was totally out of anyone’s ability to anticipate or know,” I said responding to Marwan’s comment.
Marwan raised his eyebrows in astonishment and said,
“The skipper’s last words to you were clear. He told you
‘always remember how a true leader is identified.’ It was because you showed persistence to do this that General Fareed decided to help.”
I didn’t know how to respond to the far logic in his words, so I said teasing, “What do you know, you’re still too young.”
Other men were watching our argument unable to understand the nature of our friendship. Noticing this, Amr smiled in embarrassment and said, “Alaha surely helps those who do their best to make what’s right prevail.
You were right, Qotazio. It’s one’s faith in a just cause, and persistence to strive for it that grants us victory.”
74
Through our journey, I trained with Amr and Marwan on daily basis enhancing their combat skills. I knew they were talented and brave, but they needed to learn more moves and tricks. They also needed to improve their physical capabilities in order to move faster and be more evasive.
Swordfight is a mind game; it’s the science of anticipation, and it must be treated as such. I didn’t only teach them the moves, but I also taught them the science behind them.
The outcome of our training sessions was efficient.
They asked me about the best attack techniques, but I always said, “It differs from one person to another. It is something you have to find out on your own.”
The three of us also contributed to training the other men. Whenever we camped for rest, we organised combat games and training battles. As ex-soldiers, General Fareed’s men were of great help. Watching my skill as a swordsman triggered their appetite to challenge me in duels. I was keen on winning them all to earn their trust and respect. Nonetheless, I never won any duel in such a manner that would cause the challenger any humiliation.
This helped stabilise my authority over older men who never knew me before. Within three weeks, we succeeded in gathering fifteen hundred men. We were continuously improving their combat skills. Even while marching, I made them hold their swords and keep on practising.
“Your sword is part of your life. When facing the enemy, knowing how to wield the sword shall be your main strength. You must learn how to hold it, tame it, use it, and preserve it in the best manner possible.” I always repeated those words. I wanted to root in my men’s minds the importance of knowing how to handle their swords with complete mastery.
The last night before the appointed time, somewhere near the Northeastern coast of Misrost, I was sitting with General Fareed, Amr, Marwan, and some of the men we had tested and instated by unanimous agreement as squad commanders. The men were expressing their opinions in our struggle against the Nastorians:
“I believe the real problem is in the people’s inclination towards believing whatever they are told without any true investigation. Convincing them to join our cause is almost
impossible. Even if they did, at the first collision with what they must endure for their will to prevail, they will declare their surrender. They will find it easier to throw themselves back into the Nastorians’ arms.”
“That’s true. Moreover, there is also the problem of those opportunists who worship power. They are always lurking to jump in at the proper time and seize control of the country’s treasures as Sasan did. Sasan was an army officer, he took an oath to defend Misrost, but with the first chance to ascend to a higher position, he wasted his oath, his comrades’ lives, and his people’s future.”
“Power slaves have always existed. The antidote against their greed is to scandalise their schemes, and let all people see them for what they really are. This should be enough to limit their influence. What I fear the most is the aftermath.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the side effects which overthrowing the current corrupt regimes will entail. The Nastorians are not the only traitors existing in Misrost or the region. They have managed to infiltrate all categories of people. It’s enough to walk amidst the markets listening to what people say, and you will immediately know that most Misrostians have forsaken their original ethics and morals. They have embraced the Nastorian creed, and they are willingly supporting it.”
“I don’t quite agree with that. The people are supporting the Nastorians, but they are doing it out of fear for their lives, and their families’ as well. What if a new honest power rises in defiance of what the Nastorians have done!
I think the people are waiting for this to happen. I believe they will give aid to such power, and join its strife.”
“Don’t be so sure of that. The people did nothing when the Nastorians rose to power through treason. They surely did nothing when the Nastorians enslaved them inside their own countries. The people won’t help. The people are gone.
Those you see are nothing but hay, with the first wind blow, they will be scattered in all directions.”
Amr, Marwan, and I remained silent throughout the conversation. The men continued debating like this for a while, then one of them asked me, “What do you think, Qotazio?”
I looked at my two silent friends. They nodded in a way I understood, so I said, “I think Misrost will always have those willing to give their lives for the welfare of their nation. They don’t think much of politics and its debates, and they surely don’t want anything in return. Their highest hope is to achieve freedom for the countries in our region, and then return to live normal lives: work to earn a living, find love, and raise good families. They want to live, but as free honourable men, not slaves. This is why they postpone their personal dreams and accept to live like strangers and outcasts. Regardless of all debates, opinions, political analysis, and empty talks, those persons will always form the cornerstone upon which all traitors break. They are the stone that shall grind the reasons behind your fears and concerns to dust. That’s because such persons never stop until they make what’s right prevail or die trying.
Unlike what their enemies think, their death is never the end, but it’s always the beginning of something bigger, something stronger. Their legacy is like a candlewick, it dies, but the candle’s light remains. Otherwise, why do you think we are all here at this moment?”
The men’s facial expressions varied, and I was unable to tell whether they hated or liked what I said. General Fareed was the one who broke the silence. He took his pipe out of his mouth, gazed at me shortly, and then said, “Blessed be the strangers, lad.”
“Amen,” was our response.
General Fareed then got up and said, “Tomorrow morning we shall reach the Northern coast. Within a few more days, we shall face our enemy on the battlefield.
Let’s deliver to them this exact message. They may have succeeded in killing our king, his chief of staff, and many of our comrades. They may have succeeded in seizing control of our land and forced us to live in exile. They may have even succeeded in enslaving our people for the past eight years. Nevertheless, here we are, the sons of Misrost, gathered to fight back. Verily, the Misrostian legacy will never be lost as long as Misrostians fight to preserve it, and preserving it, we will.”
75
The next morning, four hundred horsemen, and twelve hundred foot soldiers were approaching the meeting location of the Misrostian forces.
“You must arrive amidst the morning of the twenty-first day of the next month. Let the men wear clean clothes, shine their swords, and arrive showing no signs of fatigue. Let them approach the place running in military formations with their backs straight, and their heads raised,” my uncle stressed before my comrades and I left. There we were arriving at that exact timing.
As we approached the place from the south, another force approached from the west. The first thing that appeared as they came from beyond the hills was the shining tips of their long spears. My men were alerted on spotting them. Then, as the spearmen came closer, I rode forward towards their leader, mounted down my horse, and hugged him. The expressions on his men’s faces were memorable. It was a combination of renewed hope and pride. I knew that this was the same with my men. The two forces hailed each other with cheers and words of praise.
After that, a third force approached from the East.
They were the archers’ force. The first thing we all noticed was the huge green banner their leader was raising as he marched in front of them. It was the same old banner with
the white crescent at its upper right corner, emitting light rays towards five stars. That was the old flag of Misrost’s training camps. The crescent was a symbol of hope.
Its shape was considered a call for the observer to look forward and await the light of the full moon. The shining rays were a symbol of learning and spreading knowledge.
Finally, the five stars were the five countries of our region, Magharbia, Afraconia, Misrost, Shamalia, and Pharania.
The nations of these five countries have always shared the same history, customs, language, and problems. They were also united through thousands of marriages that had produced many generations of combined origins. Salamio was half Shamalian, half Misrostian. My mother was of a Pharanian descent, and my great paternal grandmother was Afraconian.
Orabio and I approached Salamio. We looked at the banner we hadn’t seen for a long time. “That’s an excellent idea. The Nastorians hate this banner,” Orabio said.
Salamio smiled and replied, “I was unable to resist. If I could, I would shove it all the way through Sasan’s heart.”
“Don’t worry, when he learns that it has been raised again, he will probably piss himself. Now, we have to report to Uncle Nooraddeen,” I said.
“That’s right. Order your men to reform their lines.
He will be here any moment now. The Misrostian leaders will probably come with him,” Orabio replied.
I returned to my men who assumed the attention position as I approached. It was the first time for me to see them do that. General Fareed nodded at me in a gesture that I understood. He had ordered his men to teach this to their brothers in arms.
“The archers and the spearmen are here. Skipper Nooraddeen shall arrive any moment. He shall summon us for a meeting and brief us of our mission in details,” I said to General Fareed.
“That’s your uncle, right lad?”
“Yes General. Have you met him before?”
He smiled and said, “Your father introduced us once, but we never got the chance to know one another. I’d be honoured to meet him again.”
As we stood there, Amr and Marwan approached us.
“What banner is this? It’s the first time for me to see it,”
Marwan asked.
“Well lad, this is the banner of all banners. When the king wanted to fight against the spread of the Nastorians’
false teachings, he ordered the establishments of training camps all over the country. In these camps, all youths received education about all sorts of things, from Algebra to Alchemy, and from combat to poetry. The main target was to raise a well-educated generation capable of defending all countries in the region, not just Misrost.
The king understood that Misrost’s safety doesn’t end at its borders, but at the borders of all neighbouring countries.
Hence, the king informed his brethren of the situation at hand, and similar camps were established all over the region. They all agreed to unite the banners of those camps, and make it a symbol of our united strife. That banner you see is it.”
“Behold,” a man shouted pointing towards the North.
We turned, and there was a century approaching. My uncle was leading them. He was wearing a green cloak over a light grey outfit. The green colour of his cloak matched that of our banner, and his turban was coiled over a shining helmet with a pointy tip. His men were dressed in similar clothes, and some of them were driving a hundred loaded camels and a couple hundred horses. I mounted my horse and rode forward to receive him.
“Welcome, uncle. What’s all of this?” I said.
“Welcome, lad. I hope your journey was successful,”
he said neglecting my question.
“We faced a few problems, but with time things got better, a lot better than we expected.”
“Brief me about the force you have gathered.”
I briefed the old man of my journey, how I met General Fareed and his men, the complete number of my forces, their equipment, the number of rides we had, even the dominant type of clothes among them and its colour.
He nodded in understanding and rode forward towards my men. He mounted down his horse, approached General Fareed, and said, “General, it’s an honour to have you and your men here on this day.”
“The honour is all ours, Master Nooraddeen. We are all glad to serve as part of a true Misrostian army once more.”
My uncle asked the general, “Are you all ready to operate under Qotazio’s command, General? Are you ready to follow him and give what it takes to achieve victory on the battlefield?”
“Don’t worry, Master Nooraddeen. We won’t let him down, you’ll see,” General Fareed responded firmly.
My uncle nodded respectfully, then he turned towards me and said, “Ride along towards my men. Find Yassin, and tell him who you are. Inform him of the number of men under your command, and ask him for enough uniform.
If some of them need clothes or footwear, Yassin will help.
He’s responsible for all supplies.”
“Enough uniform for sixteen hundred men!” I said doubtfully.
My uncle replied sarcastically, “What did you expect, lad, that we will gather an army, and then go to war without a uniform! We represent Misrost.”
When he turned around to leave, Amr and Marwan were standing beside his horse, holding its rein. My uncle expressed his gratitude for their safe return, mounted his ride, and rode forward towards the other forces.
My comrades helped me find out what the men needed.
Yassin and some of my uncle’s men unloaded some of the camels. They supplied us with green cloaks, grey shirts, shining helmets, and the body armours my men needed.
My uncle then summoned my comrades and me, along with General Fareed, for a quick meeting. He briefed the general of our real mission and explained the urge behind keeping this information a secret while we gathered our forces.
He informed us of a deception plan General Obadiah was carrying out near the western borders. It was designed to distract Sasan’s scouts from the routes we took until we reached our meeting location.
“While we travel to Shamalia by land, the Magharbian forces shall travel by sea. We have the strongest three ships in the Misrostian fleet in our possession. Accordingly, our men shall help secure the Magharbians’ journey against any attacks from Sasan’s fleet. Meanwhile, General Obadiah shall continue distracting Sasan by carrying out false attacks in the west. This will make him think that our true destination is Magharbia,” my uncle explained.
“What about the Afraconians?” I asked.
“They decided to take a different path. They shall cross Qalzam Sea towards Pharania. There, they will join forces with their Pharanian brothers. Both forces shall arrive at Shamalia from the south.”
“Excellent plan,” General Fareed said. “This grants all forces a bigger chance to reach the battlefield with the least losses, if any at all. The Nastorians won’t be able to move in all directions.”
“Exactly,” my uncle replied.
“What about the men?” I asked.
“What about them?” my uncle responded.
“They have been travelling and training for weeks without any rest. Won’t they need to rest before the battle?”
“The journey to Shamalia takes about five days. We still have a week before the appointed time. This shall grant the men enough time to rest. Meanwhile, we shall place our battle plan, divide the men according to its requirements, and communicate with our brothers.”
“Which route are we going to take, the coastal one, or the mountainous?” General Fareed asked.
“Neither,” my uncle said mysteriously, “we shall follow a secret passage through the mountains of Sainatica. It shall save us time, and hide our forces from the eyes of Sasan’s scouts.”
“A secret passage through the mountains? I never heard of any secret passage through Sainatica’s mountains,”
General Fareed said.
“That’s part of the preparations we have been taking care of the past years, general. My late brother found this passage on an ancient Misrostian map, but its entrance was lost with time. He ordered a squad of ten trustworthy men to find that entrance and make sure that the passage can lead to Shamalia. They succeeded in finding it and hid its entrance so that no one else would realise its existence.
Mohab told me about it himself. He informed me that its map was hidden in his house, and now we have that map.”
After a moment of silence, I asked, “When shall we start moving?”
My uncle took a deep breath and said, “Today, after sunset.”
76
When the sun started to rise, we were still following my father’s map, marching through the narrow passage amidst Sainatica’s mountains. We spent part of the night removing the rocks blocking the entrance designated on the map.
A cavern took us all the way through the mountain to the beginning of the passage. We had to remove the rocks blocking the outlet as well. Since that we were moving in a narrow route, half of our forces passed on foot, while the other half drove the camels and horses forward towards the men at the other side. Of course, we blocked both entrances of the secret passage once more. It took us a long tiring time
to reach the end of the narrow path and the beginning of the way to Shamalia. It was past midday when we reached the other side of the mountain series extending through Sainatica. We were exhausted, hungry, and barely able to walk. I looked for my uncle, and amazingly, the old man was holding on just fine. He even looked tougher than most of the much younger men. I knew he couldn’t show any signs of fatigue in front of them. I approached him and said,
“Uncle, we all need to eat and rest. The men haven’t slept for almost two days now. I suggest that we rest here till the afternoon, and then resume our journey.”
“We can’t rest here, we must move along towards the water spring designated on the map. If we continue, we shall reach it before sunset. Then we can rest till dawn.”
“But the men need to eat.”
“Don’t worry. Dates and bread shall be distributed as we move along. Return to your men immediately, lad.
Don’t leave them unless I summon you,” he responded in a dull tone.
I obeyed his orders and urged the men to show perseverance. I ordered them to share the remaining food and water in their possession, and encouraged those who were strong to endure until we reach our next stop.
Of course, I didn’t tell them that food would be distributed as we move along. I wanted them to move faster and be eager to reach our destination for the day. I rode ahead, mounted down my horse, passed it to another man, and walked in front of the foot soldiers. Orabio, Salamio, Amr, and Marwan soon joined me one after the other, and this paid back well. Our forces shook off their tiredness and moved faster. We were able to reach the designated location sometime before sunset. On that day, I learned a lot about what my mentors in the training camps called “the imaginary fatigue boundary.” This boundary—as its name implies—does not exist. It’s just something that your mind creates when your body feels tired. If you give up
and surrender to its delusion, it will always affect your will negatively. If you succeed to neglect it and fight against its false calls, you will achieve what may have seemed impossible. Our mentors always urged us to fight against that boundary and conquer it.
We rested with the men for a while and dined. Then my uncle summoned my four comrades and me for a meeting in his tent. He was standing in front of a map for southern Shamalia. General Fareed was already there when we arrived.
“Hope you’ve had enough rest, lads,” my uncle said.
I looked at my comrades waiting for any of them to respond, we were exhausted, but Amr answered, “We’re at your service, skipper.”
Uncle Noor looked at the rest of us waiting for our answer, so we responded similarly. He said, “Good. Now concentrate. This is the location where we intend to face the Nastorians. It’s the valley of Jar-Shamir at the southern Shamalian borders. It was chosen and agreed upon by the supreme council. Our choice fell on it because of its nature and location. It is the furthest away from the quarters of the Nastorian forces in Shamalia, and the closest to the Pharanian borders. This will make it harder for our enemies to receive reinforcements. Meanwhile, it makes it easier for us to drag them into the Pharanian desert in case we needed to retreat. Our Pharanian brothers know their land best.
They can guide us easily through its routes. This shall grant us a chance to rearrange our forces.”
My uncle paused for a moment. Exhaustion was evident in his voice and on his face. He overburdened himself and continued, “Our Combined forces is estimated to comprise a total of ten thousand soldiers. The number of our horsemen is not going to exceed one thousand. The remaining are all foot soldiers. Our enemy’s forces comprise over three thousand horsemen and thirty thousand foot soldiers. We are outnumbered by at least three to one.
Our enemy is very well equipped. They are all professional soldiers, so don’t underestimate their capabilities.”
He looked at me stressing on those last words as he uttered them, and I understood the message. “Our foot soldiers shall be divided into four legions: the Misrostian, the Shamalian, the Magharbian, and the Afraconian. Qotazio shall lead the Misrostian legion, and his force shall lead the attack at the heart of our army. The Shamalian legion shall attack from the right wing, while the Magharbian attacks from the left.
The Afraconian legion shall not engage at the beginning.
They shall stay behind as backup forces and deployed according to the developments on the battlefield.
The formation we agreed on has never been used before.
This plan was designed to bewilder the enemy and prevent its leaders from realising the real number of our forces.
Every legion shall assume the shape of a rhombus.
The Misrostian and Afraconian legions shall have the long diagonal of their formation pointed towards the enemy, while the Shamalian and Magharbian forces shall have theirs facing the enemy. The valley is plain, surrounded by mountains from both sides. This will limit the numbers our enemy attacks with, and will keep our real numbers unknown…”
“Excuse me, skipper. What about the horsemen?”
Marwan asked.
“I will get to that shortly, lad. Be patient,” my uncle replied as he pulled out a drawing of equal scale to that of the map. He placed it on top, and continued, “This shall be the shape of our formation. The two forces you see near the centre—behind the front three legions—are the horsemen.
Their presence shall be well concealed. They shall stand beside their horses, and await the order to attack. Our enemy mustn’t realise their presence. Meanwhile, the front two sides in the rhombus formation of every legion shall form the vanguard of our army. These fifteen hundred men shall be responsible for breaking the first attack.
322 THE LOST WAY TO MISROST
When the Nastorian cavalry attack, our spearmen will thwart their advance. They shall force them to cluster towards the middle spaces between the front three legions.
At this moment, our horsemen shall mount their horses, and carry out a counterattack. They shall advance in two diagonal directions, piercing through the Nastorian cavalry, and forcing them to fall in chaos. The Nastorians will find themselves divided and under attack from six directions.
This will grant us a chance to defeat our enemy’s biggest and most dangerous force. After this, the battle could only be decided by the swordsmen.”
“What about our archers, skipper?” Amr asked.
“They will form the backsides in the rhombus formation of our legions. Their task at the first phase of the battle will be to snipe as many riders as possible. Nonetheless, they will not engage in direct combat until their comrades succeed in destroying the Nastorian cavalry. When our enemy’s foot soldiers attack, they will release their arrows at full range based on their leaders’ command. Afterwards, they will engage in the battle like their fellow foot soldiers.
Salamio has already brought highly skilled men. They are the elite in all Misrost. The archers’ force shall operate based on Qotazio’s instructions.”
General Fareed said, “I served in his majesty’s army for twenty-five years, never have I witnessed such a formation.
I don’t even know any defence plan that could be compared to what you just explained, skipper. That’s a brilliantly designed plan. Is this one of General Mohab’s ideas?”
My uncle looked at me smiling and said, “Actually that’s his son’s plan.”
77
“When on earth did you plan all this?” Orabio asked as we walked back towards our men.
I smiled provocatively and said, “What difference would it make?”
He stared at me threateningly and replied, “Are you kidding now? You never told us anything about this before.
Since when did you start hiding things from us?”
I stopped, stared at him in similar anger, and replied,
“Maybe since you started hiding things from me, too.”
He grabbed me by my arm with his stupidly strong hand and said, “We were trying to protect you, you idiot. That was different.”
I pushed his hand away and said, “You don’t have the right to ask anything. You have your orders, and I have mine. If you don’t like it, then quit.”
I knew I was driving him crazy with my responses, but I enjoyed getting back at him for all the time he spent hiding the truth from me. Although I knew he did it for the right reasons, I was unable to waste that opportunity. I really enjoyed having known something related to the resistance’s secret plans, while he didn’t.
Salamio seemed to understand what I was doing.
He interfered saying, “Really, Qotazio, this doesn’t make any sense! When did you place such a complicated plan, and when did you explain it to the skipper? You must have done this before he met the members of the supreme council. It must have preceded the meeting in which they decided to confront the Nastorians in a direct war. No way you could have got the chance to do this. The information stated about the Nastorian forces was collected and sent by our spies while we were gathering our forces. The plan itself was discussed and approved by the council members during that same period. How come that it was you who placed this plan?”
I looked at them both, and smiled widely enjoying the mental torment they were going through at that moment.
“Knowledge is according to one’s need, and you don’t need to know this,” I replied then walked away.
“I’m going to kick his butt,” Orabio said stepping towards me. Salamio stopped him saying, “The men are starting to notice our conversation, calm down.”
A moment later, Amr and Marwan approached the place where I was resting. Marwan said, “Have I ever hidden anything from you?”
I smiled knowing what he meant. “Why do you all want to know?” I said.
“If you don’t tell me, I won’t be able to sleep or think properly till the morning, and verily I need to rest. If this isn’t a top secret, then please tell me, when did you place this plan?”
Amr remained silent, so I asked him, “What do you think, Amr? Should I tell them?”
Amr shrugged shaking his head and said, “I can’t see why this is so important at the moment, but I can imagine the mental torment they are going through right now.”
“But aren’t you eager to know the truth?” I asked.
“You hadn’t left our eyesight for months now, so I can only imagine that you placed this plan back in the past, probably before you returned to Misrost. I guess it could have been one of the plans you designed during your service years on Karma, or something of that sort.”
I admired his logic, but his answer was still incorrect, so I said, “I placed that plan when I was a teenager. It was part of our training, something like chess games. We were asked to design a plan in which we can fight against larger forces.
Our mentors granted us two days to search in the military sciences’ books for an answer. After I did my regular research, I wasn’t convinced that any of the plans described could help defeat a larger force with the least losses.
Consequently, I thought of a more efficient plan.
Amazingly, I dreamed of this formation during my sleep.
As soon as I woke up, I pulled out a paper and drew it.
When my mentor saw it, he seemed thrilled. He praised it and awarded me a prize for the unusual idea. That was the last time I saw this plan until today when my uncle opened its drawing. Naturally, my mentor raised it to the king and his counsellors, and this was how it reached Uncle Noor.”
Amr laughed, while Marwan got up saying, “This cannot wait until the morning.” He ran towards Orabio and Salamio to tell them everything.
78
The next morning, the five of us were riding our horses ahead of the army.
“Who will lead the horsemen?” Marwan asked.
I looked at him wondering why none of us asked this question during the meeting.
“Orabio, do you know who will lead the horsemen?”
I asked.
He looked at me angrily and didn’t answer.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked Salamio. He smiled and said, “He’s angry because you refused to tell him about your plan yesterday.”
“But Marwan told you everything,” I objected, “and that’s totally irrelevant to the current question.”
Orabio looked at me, and shouted, “Shut up, don’t you dare speak to me till we reach Shamalia. I swear I will beat you in front of your men.”
“Calm down you stupid rhinoceros,” I shouted back at him.
He rode forward and blocked my way with his horse.
His face was red, about to burst with anger. Amr and Marwan interfered before Orabio completely loses control of his tempers. Salamio tried to calm him down saying,
“What’s gotten into you? You know Qotazio better than to be provoked by whatever he says.”
“What do you mean, you little wimp,” I replied blustering.
“Shut the hell up. That’s enough,” Salamio responded seriously.
“Let me pass, lads,” Orabio growled. I knew he was crazy enough to knock me off my horse, but Amr and Marwan calmed him down as I expected.
“Know what! One day you won’t get that lucky,”
Salamio said sardonically as we moved along.
Orabio was always a combination of many opposites.
He was the kindest person I ever knew, and the easiest to be provoked; the strongest physically, and the most tender with those who couldn’t defend themselves; the most courageous, but most careful. When I think about it, I don’t find any person more truthful with himself than Orabio.
I have always loved my friend, and will always do. If I were ever asked to describe him, I would suffice with saying,
“He was the best man I ever knew. By far, he was all I’ve always wanted to be.”
79
As we marched towards the valley of Jar-Shamir, I made the men practise, and enhance their sword skills. It was a three days journey, and I didn’t want them to turn lazy.
Meanwhile, Orabio’s men competed among themselves in some power show-off games. At any other time, I would’ve thought this to be something silly. However, as we marched for battle, it filled the men with confidence to know that their front lines were strong and sturdy. The archers practised with both teams, and showed-off with their skills in using both: bows and swords. Some of them were highly skilled knife throwers as well. I enjoyed watching them compete and show us their talents.
When we reached the valley, the Shamalians, Pharanians, and Afraconians were already there.
The Shamalian leader rode forward and welcomed my uncle. The old man introduced General Fareed, and then he called my comrades and me, and introduced us as well.
The man gave us a warm welcome. He invited the Shamalian legion’s commanders and introduce them.
The Pharanian force comprised a few hundred men.
Their leader was a handsome muscular man in his mid-forties. When we approached him, he greeted us, shook our hands firmly, and then returned to his work. Pharanians were not talented people, but among them were those who are extremely devout.
As we turned to visit the Afraconians, their leader approached my uncle hurriedly and hugged him. He was the same man I saw back at our coastal hideout in Misrost.
He told my uncle that his men were ready to operate under his command. My uncle expressed his gratitude for the man’s gentle gesture and said, “You are the worthiest of their obedience my friend.”
We camped beyond the southern skirts of the valley.
We still had two more days to prepare. The Magharbians arrived the next day early in the morning. They were ugly dressed, tough, ill-tempered, haughty people, but their reputation in combat was outstanding. I noticed that the Misrostian soldiers mingled very easily and quickly with the Shamalians and Afraconians. They exchanged combat experiences and discussed their techniques. I was happy to see some of my men explaining their tactics the same way I had done in the previous weeks. This meant that my methods were successful. I spent most of my time supervising over the men’s progress, making sure that they were well prepared and ready.
My uncle convened with the other leaders for extended periods during those two days. The men continued to prepare their gear. They asked me whether they should keep
on training or not. I told them never to stop training, even at times of peace, but they should prepare themselves spiritually as well.
Orabio told me that the Shamalian resistance had passed information to the Nastorians that an army was gathering against them in Pharania. The purpose was to drag the Nastorian forces towards the borders away from the cities.
Later on, while we engage them in battle, the Shamalian resistance men would seize control of their country, and secure its cities. “Our scouts informed us that the Nastorian army will arrive by tomorrow, prepare yourself,” he added.
“What about the horsemen? Who will lead them?”
Orabio seemed worried. He said, “Father told me he had already taken care of that. He ordered me to concentrate on my own task. I suggest you do the same.”
I returned to my men and attended to my duties. At night, I was unable to sleep as usual. I got up and walked away from the men seeking to sit alone and meditate for a while.
When I was far enough, I saw a man standing alone amidst the desert and praying. His voice was low, but its tune was so soothing that it caught my attention. When I got closer, I found that it was Amr. That wasn’t surprising. Why not?
I said to myself as I walked back. I grabbed the first waterskin I laid eyes on, performed ablution, then returned and stood beside Amr. He raised his voice so that I can hear the verses he was reciting. I entered the prayers and listened to the verses attentively. They were speaking about Alaha’s help and support, which He grants to His pious servants and those who would defend what’s right. The verses that caught my attention the most were the ones that said,
“It wasn’t until our loyal servants lost all hope and thought that their message had been denied that Our help came to them: verily We save whoever We please, and Our punishment shall not be averted from the guilty. Indeed in their stories, there is a lesson for people of understanding.”
These words touched my heart in a way I could never explain. I will just suffice with saying that they repeatedly echo inside my mind all the time. We continued praying until midnight. When we finished and got up, we were both stunned. Hundreds of men had joined our prayers. Amidst the front line, my uncle was sitting. At his sides were General Fareed and Orabio. A beatific smile filled the old man’s face. When he noticed I was staring at him, he signalled me to approach, took me to his tent, and we had a private conversation.
80
After sunrise, our army was standing at the entrance of the valley from the Pharanian side. Every legion took its designated place as ordered by its leader. All cohorts and centuries stood behind their commanders. The spearmen—
as planned—formed the front lines of each legion. They were standing firmly, holding their strong, big iron shields, and long spears. The closest man in our army to the enemies’ lines was Orabio, and I stood in front of the swordsmen a few feet behind.
It wasn’t a long time before we heard the drums of the Nastorian army, then they began to appear at the other end of the valley. Their general ordered the cavalry to prepare themselves for the first attack as expected. While they formed their lines, I turned, and shouted in the loudest voice I was able to speak with, “Brothers in arms, it has been mentioned in our holy traditions, that those who make victorious what’s right, and remain steadfast, receive Alaha’s help. Our cause is a just cause and one of the holiest, if not the holiest of all. We are here to defend the future of our people… of our children, and retrieve our homelands. So stand fast, and fight as you have been trained to do. Do not be deceived by your enemy’s numbers.
Battles are not won but by faithful, well-trained, pious men; and verily, I can see those men with my eyes right now.”
After that, the Shamalian leader spoke, he said, “Faithful soldiers, raise your banners, follow your leaders, and fear not those traitors and thieves. They fight for money and fake positions, but we fight for freedom, and our people’s right to live and prosper. Rest assured that they are more afraid of you than you could ever be of them. Remember your ancestors and their strife. Do not waste their efforts.
Make them proud.”
Then the Magharbian leader spoke, from what he said,
“If it’s glory you seek, there is no bigger glory than to fight for your country. If it’s life you seek, there could never be any good-life under the governorship of traitors, and Romestian agents. Stay together, be at the aid of your brothers, and have no fear. Verily, Alaha’s kingdom is in the shadow of your enemy’s swords.”
The Afraconian leader shouted, “Alaha is greater than all. His word is real, and His promise is real. If He promised to admit those who strive to set things right into His kingdom, then it’s a great honour to stand here today, and fight with our brothers against tyranny. Be brave. Fight with all your power. May Alaha be our witness that we attended to our duty, and fulfilled our debt towards our nation.”
After this, the Nastorians started hitting their drums faster to intimidate our forces. Then, their cavalry blew their horns and started moving forward. The spearmen commanders shouted their orders for their men to assume the blocking position. The men kneeled on one knee behind their shields, and raised the pointed steel tips of their spears, securing the other ends in small holes they had dug underneath their feet. As the Nastorian horsemen approached, our archers released their arrows extensively towards the heart of their forces forcing them to cluster towards the wings. Noticing the open areas we left intentionally amidst our legions, many of them started to