The Lost Way To Misrost by Ehab Shawky - HTML preview
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spread in both directions, dividing themselves into three severed forces. Our spearmen held their grounds until their cavalry were ten feet away, and then they raised their spears higher nailing the front line of their cavalry and blocking the attack. The Five hundred Misrostian spearmen blocked the attack of the middle Nastorian force. Their comrades at the Shamalian and Magharbian wings blocked the attack of the other two forces. At that moment, ‘attack’ was shouted from behind the lines, and our army’s horsemen came out running in two diagonal directions, penetrating the Nastorian cavalry. Meanwhile, the spearmen began to attack. Two brave men were leading our horsemen, Uncle Nooraddeen, and General Fareed. I still remember their bravery as they penetrated the enemy’s cavalry, and I’ll never forget the fear that showed on the Nastorians’ faces.
The two old men kept on advancing until they flanked the middle force, and attacked it from both sides, leaving the remaining Nastorian cavalry at the wings for the archers and spearmen to neutralise. The central force was still the largest relatively. The battle against them was fierce to the furthest extent. The spearmen kept on blocking any trial from the Nastorian cavalry to penetrate our lines, and then Orabio issued his order for the army to move forward maintaining its formation. While the spearmen squeezed the Cavalry backwards, our horsemen were penetrating their lines unstoppably forcing them to scatter and fall in chaos.
The plan followed by my uncle and General Fareed was brilliant. They divided their men into centuries, which advanced in eight lines until they reached behind the Nastorian cavalry. Seeing this, I shouted for the archers to release their arrows at medium range to avoid hitting our horsemen. After this, the tables turned. Instead of being on the offensive side, the Nastorians found themselves flanked between our horsemen from one side, and our archers and spearmen from the other. They had already lost over half their force, and now they were trying desperately to defend
themselves. Our horsemen reformed their lines, and attacked again but as a single force. Consequently, the escape route of the Nastorian cavalry was blocked.
They had no way out but to either surrender or fight till the last man.
As the battle got tenser, the Nastorian horn was sounded once more. I understood that the second wave of attack was on its way. We had men stationed at higher positions, atop the mountains, to keep an eye on the enemy’s moves and signal us of what was happening. I looked towards their location, and I saw them raising a black banner, which meant that foot soldiers were on the move. They waved it five times, indicating that the attack force included five legions. This meant that over twenty thousand men were advancing towards our lines. I ordered the horn carrier to warn our horsemen. Knowing that help was on the way, the Nastorian cavalry’s attacks became fiercer. I noticed that our horsemen were outnumbered, and barely able to hold on. “Archers, advance,” I shouted. Within a blink of an eye, the swordsmen in the Misrostian legion opened a gap in between, and Salamio came forth leading two hundred of the elite archers. Our spearmen kneeled on one knee bringing their shields together, while the archers stood right behind them and started hunting down as much Nastorians as possible. It wasn’t long before we seized control of over two hundred horses with the least losses. I pulled out my sword and raised it signalling a certain group of my men.
We split towards the wings of our legion, mounted the horses, and attacked the Nastorian cavalry from both sides in the same diagonal formation. I led the men from one side, while Amr led them from the other. I let out a battle cry forcing many of the Nastorians to turn and face my force.
The purpose was to decrease the pressure on our horsemen behind the enemy lines, and it worked. As I advanced, I pulled out another sword, blocked and struck with both swords interchangeably letting go of the horse’s rein.
The skill and vigour of my men frightened the Nastorian cavalry, and I saw it in their eyes as we moved forward.
When we ram their front lines, the Nastorians realised that their mission had failed. Our horsemen reduced the pressure at the middle, opening a gap intentionally. They wanted to give the remaining cavalry a chance to escape back towards their troops. It was a tactical move, we knew very well the dissenting effect this would have on the spirits of their comrades marching towards us, and we didn’t want to exhaust our men before the real battle started. I ordered my men to carry our wounded back hurriedly and return to formation. While they carried out their orders, I took Amr and looked for my uncle and General Fareed. We found them among the wounded. I pushed my swords back into their scabbards, and hurried towards my uncle, while Amr carried General Fareed with another man. As I tried to move the old man, he groaned in pain and looked at me.
“Hold on, uncle. I will take care of you,” I said as I called for help, but he said with a faint voice, “You already have.
Now it’s time to attend to your duty. Lead the men.”
Two men carried him towards the nursing tents behind our lines, while I obeyed his order, and returned to my position. The Nastorian foot soldiers were approaching rapidly, and with them approached the sound of death.
“Prepare for battle,” I screamed, and the men pulled out their swords, raised their shields, and assumed the standby position.
“Archers, on my mark,” I shouted raising my hand with my sword. When the Nastorian forces were less than twenty feet away, I screamed, “Release.” While our spearmen blocked the attack of the Nastorian front lines, their middle lines were falling like autumn leaves with our archers’
arrows. We had about fifteen hundred archers in the front three legions. Every one of them released on average ten arrows. Assuming a thirty percent hit rate, I knew that at least four thousand Nastorians were neutralised. I looked up
towards our scouts, and they were waving a green banner.
This was a signal that the Nastorian rear lines were in chaos and we should attack. I squeezed my swords tightly, and shouted, “Orabio… now.”
Orabio and his men pushed forward with their shields, and intensified their attack stabbing with their spears. This forced the Nastorian front lines to retreat a few feet. Seeing this, I screamed, “Swordsmen, attack.” The spearmen opened a gap amidst their lines, and I came out leading my men in a thunderous attack on the Nastorian lines. The other two legions did the same. As I advanced towards the Nastorian soldiers, I unleashed all the anger I had suppressed within my soul throughout the previous months.
I ran unstoppably blocking the hits of those I encountered, and I hit when I got the chance. I was trying to advance as much as possible and break through the Nastorian lines, forcing them to lose their formation. I dodged and jumped, I leapt and manoeuvered by side moves, I turned around myself in continuous tactical motions, which bewildered the Nastorians and drove them crazy. I had already wounded over twenty soldiers when I saw the Nastorian leader. Unlike our formation in which the leader advances in front of his men, they kept their leader secured in the middle lines, surrounded by strong guards. When they saw me advancing towards him, two of them attacked me at the same time. I dodged turning around myself, evading a deadly strike from the first, and stabbing the arm with which he landed his blow. I reversed my turn towards his comrade and slashed his thighs deeply, forcing him to groan and retreat in pain. I jumped up kneeing the first one in his face and landed my elbow on his head. Another two guards attacked me trying to finish the job their comrades failed in, but I attacked first. I landed strike after strike with both swords, changing the spot I targeted every time. The two men were stunned by this attack. I seized the opportunity and rammed my foot with full force into the lower abdomen
of the one on my left. Then I turned towards the right evading a stab from the other man and landed my first sword on his shoulder, and slashed his fist with the other sword forcing him to drop his weapon. The Nastorian leader pulled out his sword saying, “I shall enjoy killing you, Shamalian.”
I smiled at his idiotic words and said, “No you shall not.”
I feinted with my left; as he blocked my fake stab, I landed my second sword on his, and then turned my arms in the opposite direction to his move forcing him to bend down.
I stepped on his sword with one leg, and rammed my knee viciously into his nose breaking it. Three soldiers attacked me from the right side, so I wounded their leader’s arms and turned to face them. Before the confrontation began, Amr was standing next to me from one side and Orabio from the other. I shouted, “They are yours, lads,” and continued to move forward with my men tearing the enemy’s lines apart.
The Nastorian horn was blown for the third time. Six of my men advanced covering me while I looked for our scouts’ signal. They were waving black and red banners rapidly. This meant that the Nastorians are attacking with all their remaining forces. It was going to be a full force attack including cavalry. Our army held its formation as it advanced. We were moving forward through the valley in three piercing forces, breaking the Nastorian lines, flanking their men amidst ours, and finishing them off.
The Shamalians were fine soldiers; like us, they spared lives if they were able to do so. The Magharbians were extremely brave and strong, but they were violent, and they fought like madmen. I ordered our horn bearer to await my signals, and I returned to the front. Orabio and Amr were fighting magnificently. I jumped in, attacking the men flanking them from the left side, and resumed what I do best. I kept an eye on the dust cloud that was getting closer. When it was amidst the valley, I gave my first signal. Two forces appeared from behind our lines, advancing fast towards the
spaces between our front legions. The men made way for the new force. It was a weapon we kept for such a moment.
Four hundred men on camels advanced at full speed towards the Nastorians. The remainder of our horsemen followed them. On seeing the camels, the foot soldiers panicked and looked horrified. Many of them started retreating seeking refuge amidst the reinforcements, but to no avail. When the Nastorian cavalry saw camel riders approaching—some shooting their arrows, and others stabbing with their spears—they tried to escape the battlefield themselves, except for a few hundred riders who attacked with full force evading the camels’ charge.
Our remaining horsemen engaged with them in a fierce battle, while the camel riders continued to move forward raiding at the advancing footmen. I signalled the horn bearer again, and he blew his horn the second time.
The camel riders turned around and joined our horsemen.
Together, they forced the remaining Nastorian cavalry to surrender. They drove them towards our back lines and took them as prisoners of war.
The remaining enemy forces were those on the way.
I looked at our scouts, and they were signalling us that two legions were on the move. “Reform the lines,” I shouted.
While the men returned to their positions, I inspected their condition. The majority were wounded, but they held on showing no signs of fatigue. I ordered the men in the front lines to exchange positions with their comrades at the back lines. I sent a man to inform the Afraconian legion to prepare themselves. Knowing this was the end of it; my friends advanced and stood by my side. I looked at the men and shouted, “Brothers in arms, you have fought magnificently so far. The Nastorians have already learned that our countries still have true men, able and willing to fight for their freedom. Our enemy has gathered its remaining forces for one last attack. It’s going to be the fiercest and most dangerous. If we don’t break that attack,
all of our efforts will be in vain, but if we break it, this day shall stand as the first step on the path of true freedom for our countries. Will you break it or not?”
“We will break it,” the men responded as one.
“For our families, for our children; will you break it or not?”
“We will break it,” they responded with a louder voice.
“For our fallen friends, kith, and kin; will you break it or not?”
“We will break it,” was shouted the third time like thunder, and its echo filled the valley.
I said, “May Alaha be my witness, sharing this day with you is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. If it’s time for me to die here today, I will depart the happiest of all men, and I will ask Alaha to send my soul back over and over again, to fight alongside the bravest men I ever knew.”
With that said, I turned around and charged the Nastorians with my friends at my sides, and the men followed.
The last of our riders hurled a suicide attack as we advanced towards our enemy. By the time we reached them, the riders had already broken through their lines.
We followed their lead penetrating the lines, and breaking the Nastorians’ will to fight. The Afraconian legion engaged in the combat. They were not skilled fighters, but they were well organised, extremely strong, and lionhearted. The whole valley transferred into a huge battlefield. The battle was almost equivalent, but we managed to make the circumstances more convenient for us than for our enemy. When chaos controlled the situation, my men remained focused. They fought in groups as they were trained to do. With Orabio, Salamio, and Amr around me, we were invincible. The Nastorian soldiers showed hesitation before attacking our group, and we were the ones to attack them. When I noticed their fear, I signalled the horn bearer to blow his horn. Marwan, along with five
hundred other soldiers rose from beneath the valley’s sand as he did before during our training. They were two groups hiding at the sides of the valley next to the mountains. Their location was carefully chosen so that their presence would not be compromised during the battle. Consequently, their appearance would give the Nastorian soldiers the surprise of their life. They rose up, and charged the Nastorians from both sides, tearing the remainder of their tenacity apart. The young man’s attack was the end of it. The remaining Nastorian forces either surrendered or escaped. Some of the men wanted to chase after them, but I said, “Let them go.
Let them inform their comrades of what happened here today. Let them transfer their fear to all traitors and their allies.”
The battle was over, and we were victorious, but the cost was so big, bigger than expected. My uncle died of his wounds just after he received news of our victory. I felt like he was only waiting to hear it. General Fareed followed later on that same night. We lost about eight hundred Shamalian men, seven hundred Misrostians, four hundred Magharbians, and half that number from the Afraconian legion. The Pharanians never engaged in the battle, but they remained on standby to lead us if we needed to retreat into their lands. We attended to the fallen unable to rejoice with our victory, not even a bit. It’s our tradition to bury martyrs in the same clothes they die wearing without cleansing their bodies or clothes. We believe that there is nothing purer than a martyr’s body, and no outfit is more honourable to meet our creator wearing than the one in which a martyr receives his martyrdom.
On learning that my uncle passed away, the Shamalian leader broke into tears. His men assisted him as he approached the old man’s body. He bent down and kissed his forehead, then turned towards Orabio, but failed to speak. Although wounded himself, he insisted on carrying Uncle Nooraddeen’s body with us as we buried him along
with the other martyrs beside the Shamalian entrance of the valley. During the burial ceremony, we all heard a pounding sound. When we looked at the source, one of the men was using a chisel and a hammer to engrave a memorial on the mountain rocks facing the graves. When we finished, we stood reading what he engraved.
“Here lie the bravest men of their generations. Here lie the lions of their nations. Here lie their bodies, but their souls stand in guard forever protecting the freedom of this land. May Alaha bless their souls, and join us with them, Amen.”
Above these words, our banner’s symbol was engraved big and clear.
We ordered that the wounded from both sides would receive similar treatment. The departed Nastorian soldiers were given proper burials as well. In the next day, a rider came carrying a message to General Hodrog, the Shamalian leader. After he read it, he told us that the Nastorians had withdrawn their soldiers from all Shamalian cities, and retreated towards Falastia, the western region in Shamalia.
It lies by the seacoasts, and it leads to Misrost through the narrow passage of Gazonia.
“They must have sent word asking for reinforcements from Misrost, and Magharbia,” General Hodrog said.
“How many men can they gather, and in what period?”
I asked.
The man brooded for a long moment, and then said,
“They will need at least six to eight weeks to raise a stronger army, and reach Falastia, that’s if they depended on their troops in Misrost alone.”
“What about Magharbia?” I asked.
“The only one who can answer this question is General Kalil of the Magharbian legion,” he responded pointing towards the man.
General Kalil said, “The problem is that the Nastorian barracks in Magharbia lie by the seashores. The Nastorians
have fifteen thousand strong soldiers in Magharbia alone.
It won’t be hard to dispatch half this force by sea within the same period General Hodrog specified. With our ships here, they will sail with no resistance whatsoever.”
“Our ships can stop them,” Orabio said.
“No, they can’t,” I responded.
Shocked by my answer, he asked, “Why not?”
“Because the ships coming from Magharbia will be heavily guarded, and much more than to be taken by the few ships we have. If the Magharbian ships here sail towards the Misrostian shores and join arms with our ships against the Nastorian fleet, we will divide our forces and lose one of our main legions. The Nastorian army residing in Falastia will seize the opportunity and attack us. To beat the Nastorians, we have to remain united as one army. If we divide our forces, we’ll lose. We have to think of another way.”
“Let’s attack the Nastorians at Falastia. We have already beaten them here, and we can surely do it again,” Amr said.
“I wish it could have been that easy, Amr. Things don’t happen the same way twice. The Nastorians know very well what they are doing. They wouldn’t have withdrawn their soldiers towards Falastia if they had the slightest doubt that they would be able to defend it against our army. This will be walking into a death trap,” I explained.
“That’s right,” General Hodrog said pointing at me with his pipe, “If we attack Falastia now, we will lose the war even if we win the battle. The Nastorians will make sure to destroy our army before they surrender so that their reinforcements can take us easily in the next battle. Qotazio is right in what he said.”
“I agree. Eventually, we will have to face the Nastorian reinforcements, and if we divide our forces, we will lose.
We have gathered a true army here, and we must maintain its unity,” General Kalil added.
A moment of silence passed by before Orabio said,
“The Nastorians are getting stronger as we speak, and we cannot stop this from happening. There must be something we can do, or else, all of our efforts, and the sacrifice of our martyrs, will be in vain.”
I responded politely, “My uncle’s last order to me was not to rest till all of Shamalia is freed. He told me that Shamalia’s freedom is the doorway to Misrost’s freedom.
We have won a battle, but not the war. I suggest that we seize the opportunity and preach our cause amidst the people. If the Nastorians are raising a stronger army, then we should do the same thing. We need to spread word about Jar-Shamir battle. Fear from the Nastorians must end once and for all. People all over the region must wake up, and join us in defence of their countries. If the people join our cause in multitudes, then the Nastorians had already lost, even if they raise the mightiest army on earth.”
“This plan is a double-edged sword, what if no one comes to our aid? We will end up outnumbered facing a much bigger army than the one we have barely beaten.
We will be slaughtered, and our cause will be lost forever,”
Orabio replied.
I looked at him and said, “If we stick together and lose, our cause will never be lost. At the darkest moments, people will find hope in our example. They will remember the outnumbered army that won at Jar-Shamir, the army that forced the Nastorians to retreat and withdraw their larger forces from all Shamalia. People will find light in the sacrifice of our martyrs, and our cause shall be resurrected repeatedly until what’s right prevails.”
Salamio’s face exulted. He winked at me and spoke for the first time in the meeting, he said, “I agree with that.
It resembles what our late king said when his counsellors told him that Misrost would be lost with his death, and he was right.”
General Kalil looked at him in astonishment and said,
“Finally, the secret envoy spoke. What exactly did King Saifuddeen say, lad?”
Salamio looked around, and answered raising his hands towards the attendants, “He said, ‘Nations don’t die.’ ”
344 THE LOST WAY TO MISROST
PART VIII
THE SPARK SPREADS
81
Back at Ar-Rashedeen, near an isolated small cottage, Fatamia was carrying a heavy basket for an old fisherman.
She walked with it towards the door while the old man pulled his small boat away from the water, and then followed her into the house. Two young men approached the cottage and knocked on the door.
“I’ll get it, girls,” the old man’s voice sounded from inside. He opened the door, and looked in doubt at the two men he never saw before. “Can I help you, lads?” he said.
“Master Sennary, we are your late cousin’s sons from Eskandora,” one of them replied.
“Mina’s sons! Welcome lads. Come on in,” the old man said pulling the young men inside, and then he closed the door.
“Father has returned… father has returned,” young Salamio yelled as he ran towards one of the two men, then his brother followed. The man, who was only Orabio, got down on his knees and hugged them both.
“O Lord,” Ramla said as she ran out of the kitchen and threw herself into Orabio’s arms.
Fatamia came out right after her and stood there looking at me. Although there was a distance between us, it was enough for our eyes to meet so that our souls would hold one another. I felt her hug in my heart.
“You can run to him if you want,” Orabio said interrupting our spiritual conversation.
Fatamia looked at him angrily, so he smiled and continued, “I know… father told me.”
She looked at me hesitantly, so I nodded in understanding and said, “She already has my word. I shall fulfil her dowry first. It’s enough that you know my uncle wedded us himself.”
“Where is father?” Fatamia asked. “Hasn’t he come with you?”
I was unable to respond. Orabio faked a smile and said,
“Father had to stay in Shamalia for coordination…”
“I know,” Fatamia interrupted. “You have always been a horrible liar.”
“You know what?” he asked.
Fatamia’s eyes shone with tears, and Ramla said dolefully, “Fatamia dreamed of him falling off his horse.
After that, she saw him rise again but younger than she can remember. He smiled at her, and pointed towards a group of handsome people. Amidst them was uncle Mohab.
Ever since that night, she knew it in her heart that he received his martyrdom at battle.”
Master Sennary broke the silence that followed Ramla’s words saying, “Martyrs should be celebrated, not mourned.” Then he continued with a shaky voice, “None is more honoured by Alaha than a martyr. Go now girls, prepare lunch for your husbands, they must be starving.”
The girls went to help Master Sennary’s wife who stood all that time at the kitchen’s door without uttering a word.
She just wiped her tears silently.
“Come on lads, I’m the fisherman here, but you smell worse than I do. I’ll get you a clean change of clothes while you clean up.”
Master Sennary led us into an isolated corner at the back of his cottage where we took turns bathing. We put on the clothes he gave us. The man was destitute, but he never held back a thing from us. After we dined, the children rushed towards us. Orabio and I seated them on our laps; then we started narrating what happened ever since we left the last time. We told them about Uncle Nooraddeen’s important role in the battle and his unforgettable attack on the Nastorian cavalry. The more we spoke about his chivalry and bravery, the more I noticed relief in Fatamia’s eyes.
Was it relief, faith, or patience? That was something I was unable to tell. It was a look of content and acceptance.
The more I think of her reaction, I come to believe it was a
combination of all the previous. Knowing that her adoption father fulfilled his debt towards his country—like her birth father had done before—must have comforted her heart a bit. Why I am referring to Uncle Nooraddeen, as Fatamia’s adoption father while she’s not supposed to know anything about that, is something I shall answer within the next few lines. You will have to be patient, and follow the story as I narrate it.
“We have already met General Obadiah and Lady Rashida. Salamio is with them right now. He’s writing a detailed account of Jar-Shamir battle so that they can make copies of it, and distribute it all over the country. May more people join our army, and help us defeat the Nastorians,”
Orabio said.
“What about the Misrostian legion at Shamalia?”
Fatamia asked.
“Don’t worry. We left it under the command of Amr Gad and Marwan Ad-Danaf. They are the best to train and look after the men until we return,” I replied.
“You seem to trust them very much.”
“I never met more sincere men than those two,” I replied to her comment.
“That hurts,” Orabio interrupted.
I smiled and said, “Your sincerity is far esteemed beyond my testimony! Don’t be naïve.”
“Oh, a compliment from the piercing ray himself,”
Orabio said theatrically.
“Not a compliment, but the truth my friend… only the truth,” I replied.
Orabio smiled silently in understanding.
The children had already fallen asleep between our arms.
Ramla carried young Qotazio off my lap, while Orabio got up carrying young Salamio and said, “It’s time to get some sleep. We shall leave at dawn. Let’s go, lad.”
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” I said looking at Fatamia.
Master Sennary and his wife got up as well, granting us some measure of privacy.
I moved closer and held her hands near my heart.
She looked at me with her beautiful dark brown eyes.
Her yearning overflowed her looks.
“So you accepted me even though you knew who you were,” I whispered.
She looked at me in shock.
“I know. Uncle Noor told me everything the night of the battle,” I said explaining.
She brooded without uttering a word.
“If I’m destined to survive this, I will return to fulfil my wish of becoming a farmer and reclaim my family’s land.
If you wish, you can marry someone of a higher rank.”
She looked up, hit me on my shoulder, and said,
“You dumb fool! I will never marry any man but you, even if I wait a hundred years… even if I spend the rest of my life ploughing… I will do it with you, only with you.”
I wanted to kiss her so much when she said that, but I controlled myself and said teasing, “Well, let’s hope it wouldn’t take that long, your highness.”
She hit me again and said, “Don’t ever call me that again.”
I smiled and responded teasing, “Know what… I’m not surprised. You have always been haughty and stiff.”
She stared at me angrily for a moment then responded,
“And you have always been a stubborn ignoble boy.”
She tried to pull her hands out of mine, but I held them tight and looked into her eyes trying to fill my heart with their appearance. I kissed her hands and said gently,
“Highness or not, you will always be that little girl I have always loved and will always do, no matter what destiny holds.”
She calmed down as she always does when I speak to her nicely. She placed her palm on my cheek and said tenderly,
“No matter what destiny holds, I’ll be only yours.”
82
At dawn, in one of Fastotia’s alleys, a man opened the door of his house to go to work, that was when he saw a paper pinned to his door front. He pulled it off and moved closer to the nearest light. The note had the king’s banner drawn on top, and under it, the following was written, In his Majesty’s Name, King Saifuddeen, May Alaha Bless his soul. This is the first letter from the Misrostian resistance to the beloved people of Misrost. We hereby inform you all that we have declared a state of war against the Nastorians and their allies. We won’t stop until we retrieve our countries from the grasp of those traitors. They are stealing our country’s riches and transferring them to their Romestian allies. They seek to weaken the region, and force its inhabitants to live like slaves. Enough what they have stolen during the past years. Now is the time to fight for our freedom, and for our children’s future.
We faced them in battle at Jar-Shamir valley, and we succeeded in driving them out from all Shamalian cities towards Falastia. This is a call upon all sincere Misrostians to join our cause and fight against the Nastorians.
Our army is camping in the Shamalian territories near the Eastern borders of Falastia. The Nastorians are gathering troops from all over the region. They think they can force us to surrender, but we will never do that. We will stand and fight till the last man. We will never give up until we free our countries from this ignominy. If you are willing to tell those traitors that you shall not be enslaved anymore, join us. Your country needs you.
The Misrostian Resistance High Council.
When the man finished reading, he looked around.
Many people were holding similar notes and reading the same words.
83
At midday, in front of the city hall, a young boy, barely ten years old, ran around the square in front of the building screaming, “Make way for the piercing ray… Make way for the piercing ray…”
One of the guards standing in front of the gate shouted at him to shut up, but the child ignored him. The guard pulled out his whip and advanced towards the kid swearing.
Suddenly, a rock hit the guard in the face bleeding his nose and shutting him up. He fell on his butt in a funny manner.
After that, a bunch of kids ran into the square from different directions. They repeated the same words for a moment, and then disappeared amidst Fastotia’s alleys. The guards’
comrades rushed to help him. When they assisted him up, one of them noticed that a paper was tied to the rock that hit the man. He pulled the paper out and unfolded it. It had the king’s banner on top and under it written, With Regards of the Piercing Ray
84
A couple of troopers were walking down the streets of Tenata when a teenager passed by. He was wearing a green cloak like those of the king’s army uniform. One of the troopers shouted, “Hold it right there.”
The boy stopped, turned around, and said in surprise,
“Are you talking to me, sir?”
The soldier pushed him roughly and said, “What are you wearing, lad?”
The boy answered quizzically, “Clothing sir.”
The soldier snarled like a dog, pulled out his whip, and said, “I’m going to teach you manners boy.”
“Why don’t you leave him alone,” a passerby said.
“Hey, mind your own business,” the soldier replied roughly.
“Let the boy go,” another said.
“Why don’t you attend to your jobs instead of persecuting us,” a woman shouted.
A fourth person spoke, and then a fifth. Then the unexpected happened. Many people attacked the soldiers and pushed them away from the boy.
85
Sasan was riding his heavily guarded carriage on his way to the city hall. He covered his forehead with his turban in a weird manner, and powdered his cheeks like women.
One mile away from his palace, he noticed the king’s old banner raised at the side of the road. He must have thought he was mistaken in what he saw. He ordered the carriage to stop and looked out of the window. There it was, the king’s green banner raised high and clear. He screamed at the guards to remove it and find out who did this. Moments later, they resumed their journey towards the city hall.
The carriage ascended the steeping road, then when it started descending it, Sasan saw the banner again.
He ordered the carriage to stop once more, got out himself, and looked forward. The banner was raised at equal distances all the way towards the heart of Fastotia.
86
Similar incidents started spreading all over Misrost.
That was all part of Salamio’s plan for spreading awareness.
He wanted to revive the people’s love for their country, and urge them to join us. Our men distributed the resistance notes on daily bases everywhere. Even women and children contributed in passing the notes. They pinned them to people’s doors, pushed them from under their doorsteps, or threw them randomly amidst the crowds. People were reading them in the streets, the anchorage, and the markets.
Word was passed, and every day our strife gained more support among the masses. They raised the king’s banner again in all Misrostian cities. Wherever the soldiers tore one, two more took its place. More and more people started wearing the green cloak as a sign of solidarity with the resistance. An actual wind of change was widely spreading, and nothing could stop it.
After we finished our quick mission in Misrost, we returned to Shamalia by sea as we came. We sailed day and night. The whole trip—there and back—took six days.
On the seventh day morning, we were standing amidst our men narrating to them what happened. The resistance men followed similar procedures in the other countries of the region. Shamalian men from all ages were the first to reach our camp in multitudes. Their country was on the verge of being entirely freed, and their hope for a new future was renewed. Their spirits were sky-high.
After ten long days, we received the first glad tidings when a small group of eight Misrostians arrived. They were starving, dirty, and exhausted, but they were strong.
Later on, more men arrived from Magharbia and Afraconia.
All new comers needed a lot of training, and their numbers were not enough. The thing that struck me the most was that the majority of those who came were under thirty years of age. Most of them were between eighteen and twenty-five.
Youths have purer hearts. They were able to hear our call, and they responded to it more than others did.
Time was passing by, and our numbers barely reached fifteen thousand soldiers. The number of the Nastorians expected to arrive was no less than four times that figure.
They were all well-equipped, trained soldiers.
We continued to train our men and help them enhance their fighting capabilities. The newcomers trained with their older comrades. We were trying to develop from the men we have trained instructors and mentors. That was what we were taught to do in the king’s camps. An army is like a
building. You must build it brick by brick. The more fitly you place each brick, the stronger shall your army be.
In the fifth week, I convened with our army leaders, and we discussed our situation.
“What about the Pharanians? They didn’t have any true contribution at Jar-Shamir. Won’t they join us this time?”
General Idris of the Afraconian legion asked.
“A lot is going on in Pharania,” General Hodrog answered. “The Pharanian resistance is on the verge of eliminating the Nastorian presence from their lands.
After Jar-Shamir battle, the Nastorians evicted their forces from most Pharanian cities. They deported all troops to Falastia through Qalzam Sea. Consequently, the Pharanian resistance decided to seize the opportunity, and direct a fatal blow to their barracks. The Nastorians have always had a fading presence in this mountainous country.”
“Who is the leader of the Pharanian resistance?” I asked.
“All I know is that he’s a man of great posture and noble ancestry among his people. They nickname him ‘the devout’ in reference to his excellent leadership and solemn attitude. His real name is Esmel Hashm.”
“Has anyone met him before?” I asked but received no answer. “Let me travel to meet him. I will try to convince him join us with his men.”
The leaders exchanged a worried look, then General Kalil said, “This will not be an easy trip, lad. You will be walking in a field of thorns. Pharanians don’t like strangers; they usually treat them as hostiles. Nastorian scouts are scattered all over the way there. No one has ever travelled through this area without a Pharanian guide. All we have is a map of the old pilgrimage roads, which lead to the ancient valley of Safa.”
“We have to try. Time is running out, and this is our last chance. If he agrees to join us, his forces could arrive here within ten days,” I responded.
Again, the elders exchanged a worried look, and then General Hodrog said, “I’ll come with you, lad.”
“With all due respect general, the men need you here now more than ever. You are the Shamalian leader, and this is your country. You of all must stay here all the time, and supervise over all preparations. If we were in Misrost, you would have said the same thing to me, and you know that.
All generals must stay here, and continue to prepare for our next battle,” I responded.
“You can’t go alone,” General Idris said.
“I won’t, sir. Orabio and Marwan shall come with me.”
“What about your men?” General Kalil asked.
“I shall leave them under the command of Salamio As-Shamaly and Amr Gad. If anything goes wrong, they are both fit to lead the men,” I answered.
After a moment of silence, General Hodrog said,
“When do you intend to leave?”
I looked at Orabio, and he nodded silently. “Right now, sir,” I responded.
87
“Do you feel that we’re watched all the time, or is it just me?” Marwan asked as we rode our horses after sunset through the deserts of Pharania.
“Of course we do, lad. They say that there are eyes everywhere in these forsaken deserts,” Orabio responded.
Marwan advanced towards Orabio, looked at his face in the fading light attentively, and said, “You’re mocking me, right!”
Orabio smiled calmly and said, “No, I’m serious.”
Marwan looked around unable to see past a few feet from his position. “What eyes, whose eyes?” he asked nervously.
“Eyes of jinn, lad. Haven’t you heard of the old stories about this place?”
“No. What jinn?”
Orabio stared at him in an intimidating manner then responded, “It is said that before humans came to exist, there used to dwell a special species all over the earth, jinn was their name. When humans were created, and their numbers increased vastly, jinn withdrew from all lands to the only place humans refused to live in, that’s the deserted lands of Pharania, the same very desert we’re travelling through at the moment.”
Marwan looked around again saying, “But I can’t see anyone.”
Orabio gazed at him shortly then replied, “Jinn are invisible to us, lad. They were created from fire. They can see you, but you can’t see them.”
Marwan thought for a moment then said, “How come they are created from fire, and we can’t see them? Fire amidst the night could be detected miles away.”
“Lad, we were created from dust, do you see us scatter in the wind as dust does?”
“No.”
“So are jinn, they were created from fire, but they don’t light up like a torch.”
“Have you seen one before?”
“No, but a friend of mine told me that jinn usually appear to those who do not keep quiet in their presence. They don’t like to be disturbed.”
Marwan went mute for a while. I was laughing my lungs out, but I tried to do this as quiet as possible.
“What is that noise?” Marwan asked with a hunted look on his face.
Orabio looked back at me and said, “That’s probably the sound of Qotazio laughing back there.” Then he rode forward trying to cut more distance before complete darkness surrounded us.
Marwan looked back at me with the same hunted look and said, “That wasn’t funny.”
“Tell this to the guy riding behind you,” I replied trying to catch up with Orabio.
Marwan turned with the speed of lightening, and looked behind. I laughed loudly and said, “Come on, that was damn funny.”
“How can you joke and laugh at times like these?”
“Lad, you worry too much, and that isn’t healthy. Train yourself to accept whatever destiny holds, and deal with it accordingly. This way, you will live longer, and find gratitude even in the worst situations,” I replied. “Besides, this helped keep you quiet for a while back there,”
I continued teasing him and laughed loudly with Orabio.
What we never knew at that moment was that we were watched attentively. Not only that, but we were even spied upon, and every word we uttered was listened to.
88
We rode for three days almost continuously. We were exhausted, and so were the horses. We hadn’t taken a real rest or slept properly trying to reach Safa valley as soon as we can.
“We cannot be far,” I said looking at the map we had.
“True, but where are the houses and people’s dwelling places?” Orabio responded.
“The well back there is a sign that we’re close. From the tracks around it, it has been recently used.”
“I will ascend that hill over there and look around.
Maybe I will find something,” Marwan said as he rode forward without consulting with us first.
“Be careful, lad,” I said.
“He’s a reckless chatty young man, isn’t he?” Orabio said as we watched him riding his horse up the hill.
“Absolutely. You can’t but love him, right!”
Orabio nodded saying, “Yeah.”
Marwan reached the top and looked around. He changed location trying to get a better view. Then he started descending the hill towards the other side where we couldn’t see him. We waited for his return for a while.
When it took him so long, we rode forward to catch up with him. On approaching the top of the hill, I got off my horse and handed its rein to Orabio. I crawled towards the edge of the hill and looked carefully towards the valley. Half a dozen men were surrounding Marwan. I crawled back, signalled Orabio to stay behind and use his bow when necessary. I then mounted my horse and rode forward slowly. On approaching the men surrounding Marwan, I raised my hands as a proof that I meant no harm. When they saw me, three rode towards me, and one of them asked roughly, “Who are you, and what brought you here?”
“Calm down, sir. We are pilgrims seeking the sacred valley of Safa. We mean no harm at all,” I answered.
“Don’t lie,” the man said hitting me with his whip on my arm.
I remained calm and responded, “Sir, I’m the one who came forward and surrendered to you. Why would I be lying?”
He hit me again and shouted, “Stop lying and tell the truth. What brought you here?”
I gave Marwan a look, which he understood, and then I repeated the same answer. The man raised his hand for the third time, but before his whip landed on me, I grabbed his arm, twisted it in the opposite direction, pulled out a hidden dagger from my belt, and placed it on his neck. One of his comrades pulled out his sword and was about to attack me, but an arrow penetrated the sands in front of his horse, then another in front of his comrade. Marwan also got up, jumped on the closest man to his position, and knocked him off his horse. He pulled a similar dagger from his sleeve, squeezed the man’s neck from behind with one arm, and placed the blade on his neck.
“As I said, we mean no harm. We have come seeking Safa valley for pilgrimage. You can either tell us how to reach it, and we will go our way, or you can make peace with your lord before you meet him,” I said in a dead serious tone.
“You won’t kill anyone,” a voice said from behind.
I peeked at the direction from which the voice came and saw an unarmed man standing in front of a secret shelter at the hill’s foot. He was holding a piece of bread with one hand, and a cup with the other.
“As I said, Qotazio Al-Misrosty, you will kill no one,”
he said approaching me while he sipped from his mud cup.
“Calm down lads, these are not enemies,” he said to his men. They lowered their weapons, and we did the same.
“Come with me, Qotazio, we can talk while we have breakfast. Oh, and tell your friend up the hill to come down as well. Our archers would’ve hit him if I hadn’t interfered at the proper moment,” he added pointing towards two locations amidst the mountains surrounding the valley.
I glanced at where he pointed, and his archers revealed themselves confirming what their leader said.
I signalled Orabio to approach, mounted down my horse, and followed the man who seemed to be in his late thirties.
“If I may ask, sir, how do you know who I am?” I said.
“That’s simple, lad. I was among the Pharanian force dispatched to secure your retreat in case you lost at Jar-Shamir. All praises be to Alaha, that didn’t happen.”
I anticipated that answer, so I said, “In this case, you must know why I’m here.”
He poured some milk in a cup similar to his, and handed it over saying, “Yes, I can imagine the reason for your visit.”
“Can you order one of your men to lead us to your leader, Esmel Hashm?”
He looked me in the eyes and said, “If you were to meet him, how would you convince him to join you at Falastia?
You are outnumbered, and far away from the Pharanian borders. If you lose, not one of your men will survive.
Moreover, the Nastorians have already left Pharania. Can you give me one logical reason that would make him sacrifice the lives of his men, and waste the last hope his people have to live freely in their homeland?”
I nodded in understanding and said, “The reason is simple, sir. Pharania will never be truly free as long as its neighbouring countries continue to live under occupation.
You will never be able to secure your homeland as long as your neighbours live enslaved by the Nastorians. It won’t be long before the Nastorians return to occupy Pharania again. If Esmel Hashm seeks to establish a real future for his people, he should not let them dwell amidst occupied nations.”
My words seemed to have touched a chord. The man looked down and brooded silently. I gave him a moment then continued, “That was the logical reason, sir. But there is another reason that is much more important, although according to your measures, it might be illogical.”
“What is that?” he asked without raising his head.
“The obvious, sir. You live in the holy lands. You are the closest to the sacred valley. People travel for weeks to come here and seek guidance from Alaha. You of all should know better,” I responded.
The man looked at me and asked, “What do you mean?”
I was the one to look him deeply in the eyes this time.
I said, “It’s the right thing to do.”
The man’s face stiffened, and he didn’t utter a word.
I placed the cup down, got up, and said to my friends who were standing behind listening to our conversation, “Let’s go, lads. Our mission here is done.”
Marwan raised his brows in shock and asked, “Aren’t we going to meet Esmel Hashm?”
I looked back at the man and said, “I believe we just did.”
89
“How on earth did you know that the man you were speaking with was Esmel Hashm?” Marwan asked as we rode back towards Falastia.
“What did I tell you before, Marwan? Always try to think of all logical answers before you ask your question,”
I replied.
“I did, and nothing seems to make any sense. Even the resistance leaders never saw the man before. You just saw him for a moment; thereafter you knew who he was.
What are you, a sorcerer?”
I looked at Orabio and said, “Do you care to educate the lad?”
He shook his head in boredom and answered, “Only if it will shut his mouth.”
Marwan looked at Orabio and said, “You know how he knew that the man back there was the man we were seeking!”
Orabio and I looked at each other unable to understand what the boy was saying.
“I shall put you out of your misery before it does more damage to your brain,” Orabio said. He sighed then continued, “When the man introduced himself, he made it clear that he was among the Pharanian forces sent to secure our retreat at Jar-Shamir. That meant he was among the close trusted officers of Esmel Hashm. Leaders do not send on such dangerous missions but their most trusted men.
Then when he asked Qotazio about the reason that could make Esmel Hashm join us at Falastia, I started to have doubts. That question could only be asked by one of the Pharanian leaders, one close enough to know how Esmel Hashm thinks. Finally, he revealed his identity when he pondered deeply over Qotazio’s first response. If that were one of Esmel Hashm’s counsellors, he would have debated with Qotazio in defence of his commander’s
position. This is what any counsellor would have done.
Nevertheless, this man didn’t utter a word. Only Esmel Hashm himself would react this way.”
Marwan was looking at Orabio with unblinking eyes.
When Orabio finished, Marwan looked at me and asked,
“Is this really what happened back there?”
“That’s a big part of it,” I answered nodding.
“What! Are you saying that there is something else that this calculating man missed?” Marwan asked in denial.
I smiled playfully and responded, “Actually there is.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be a snob,” Orabio objected.
“What, Qotazio? What did he miss?” Marwan asked curiously.
I took a deep breath and explained, “When the generals told me that they know nothing about the Pharanian leader, I couldn’t but wonder why, and the question didn’t bother me for long. If you know Pharania’s history well, you will know that there hadn’t been one honest Pharanian leader except that he was betrayed and killed. This is the reason why Esmel Hashm’s identity is kept a secret, except—of course—from his close counsellors and trusted men. It wasn’t hard to deduce that the Pharanians would never introduce us to their true leader. I imagined they would let us meet one of his deputies who would pretend to be Esmel Hashm. That false Esmel would then keep on asking questions to an irritating extent to perfect his act.
Meanwhile, the real Esmel would pretend to be a normal officer among the attendants. The previous analysis was what our mentors called ‘the necessary preliminary interpretation…’ ”
“The what?” Marwan asked in shock.
“It’s the thinking that one must do when he’s about to wade into something vague or unclear. It helps build up some basic ideas upon which one can depend in his endeavour. The remainder, Orabio has already explained to you moments ago.”
Marwan’s lower jaw dropped as I spoke. When I finished, he said, “The name was easier than the explanation.” Orabio and I laughed, so he continued,
“Did you learn all that in the king’s training camps?”
“Yes, we were well trained and educated,” I responded.
“Didn’t it bother you to learn all this at such a young age?”
“No, never. The methods followed by our mentors were so interesting for our age back then. It made us what we are today.”
“Can you teach me like you have been taught?”
I looked at the young man and said, “Trust me, my friend. We are doing that, but you won’t realise it in our presence.”
Two days later, we arrived at our camp in Shamalia.
There was something wrong. It was evident on the men’s faces. On spotting us, Amr approached hurriedly.
“What’s wrong, Amr?” I asked.
He hesitated for a moment then answered in obvious distress, “Sasan has undertaken some extreme measures back home. He declared the possession of arms illegal.
His men are searching houses all over Misrost. They are arresting the families of the absent men. They take anyone with the least doubts that he knows anything about the resistance. They spare no one, even women and children.
A torture campaign has been initiated against those arrested until they give the information they have. If they refuse to speak, they are hanged in the main square of the city where they live as an example for others.”
90
“The men want to go home and protect their families.”
“Their return will make things worse. Sasan will succeed in proving to Misrostians that he is stronger than they all are. He will break the people’s will, and they will never rise against him again. They will curse us for resisting, and will become his slaves by choice.”
“Our problem is not Sasan; it’s the Nastorians. Sasan is just one of their puppets. We must not let Sasan or anyone else distract us from our main cause. If we beat the Nastorians, there will be no more Sasans.”
“But what about the men who want to return to Misrost.
If they do that, the remaining men will lose heart.”
“No, they won’t. Whoever wants to leave, let him go.
This army was built upon those who came by choice.
We never forced anyone to join us. Surely we don’t need soldiers who believe that their families are more important than our cause.”
“Would you have said that if it was your wife and children in Sasan’s dungeons right now?”
Silence hovered over the place when a man asked this question. We all hesitated to answer, and we knew what that meant.
“Our enemies aren’t like us. Our enemies have no ethics or morals. They don’t hesitate to do anything if it was going to help them achieve their objectives. Any resistance from our side will only result in our slaughter.”
“Are you suggesting that we give in to their schemes, and accept to be enslaved inside our own countries?”
“I cannot see that we have another choice if we want our families to live. We must learn to accept the Nastorians’
authority and deal with their presence as a fact. Otherwise, we will perish and seize to exist.”
“This won’t be living. This will be dying every moment, and killing the generations to come as well.”
After another moment of silence, the spiritless man said,
“Maybe, but there will be generations to come. Let’s hope that one day they will succeed in what we failed to do.
The Nastorians won’t remain strong forever.”
“What you’re suggesting is centuries of slavery.”
“Centuries in the life of nations is a blink of an eye,” the same man replied. He then turned around and walked away.
“This is what Sasan wants. He drowned us in debates, and distracted us from our true objective.”
“True. He’s transforming our rage against the Nastorians into rage against one another. Soon we will start fighting amongst ourselves, and he will be the one to benefit from all this.”
“He is trying to force us to stop resisting and even give up the idea as a whole. If we don’t give in, he will burn our houses and lands, kill our families, and ruin our lives.
He won’t hesitate to do that and more. His ruffians are already spread all over Fastotia and the other cities.”
“The price of freedom is high. What did you think, Sasan will submit to your wills, and ask you to go and replace his corrupt regime? Everybody, return to your senses.
Our battle is not an easy one.”
“Yes, but we were way better when we resisted secretly.
When we decided to make this a direct war, it turned into a massacre, and we are the ones losing. I say we go home.”
I didn’t utter a word as the men discussed our situation.
After the previous opinion was stated, I said calmly, “Listen everyone. I know that the situation at hand isn’t easy.
No one can turn a blind eye to the safety of his family and beloved ones. No man can endure the pain of knowing that his family is tortured inside Sasan’s dungeons, and do nothing about it. Take the night to think about what has been said. Tomorrow morning, let there be no shame upon those who decide to return to their families. There is nothing wrong with going home.”
I said that then left. I lied down and pretended to sleep.
Thousands of thoughts were storming my mind. What would I do if many men left? With what’s happening in Misrost, General Obadiah would never be able to raise another force and join us in our battle. Esmel Hashm didn’t respond to our request either. With the Nastorians less than six weeks away, and our choices running out, what was I supposed to do? I felt so helpless and frustrated, and I remembered how I felt when Karma sunk in front of my eyes. I wasn’t able to do anything but to yell at the sailors, Jump ship. How could I forsake the other legions when I was the reason behind their gathering? The question that knocked me out that night was: what would I do if Fatamia was arrested. I don’t know for how long I stayed awake drowning in my worries. I could never explain my state of mind that night; but when I fell asleep, I dreamed of my father. His face wasn’t clear, nor did he look at me. He just stood praying and reciting that verse, the one Amr recited the night before Jar-Shamir’s battle.
“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.”
He kept on repeating it until he disappeared, but his voice continued echoing and getting louder, then suddenly I woke up. I was all sweaty, breathing heavily, and my heart was pounding to a painful extent. I got up partially and held my chest in pain. After a moment, I looked around. Most men were asleep except for the camp guards. It was still dark, so I lied back again, closed my eyes, and kept on pondering over the verse’s meaning. Before dawn, I had already decided what to do, and it wasn’t easy… not a bit.
366 THE LOST WAY TO MISROST
PART IX
STANDING FAST
91
“Traitors…”
“Misrostians are leaving…”
“Misrostian traitors…”
These shouts woke me up with sunrise. I got up hurriedly and ran towards the noise. Hundreds of Misrostians were leaving. General Hodrog shouted at his men to shut up, and they all held their tongues, but their eyes said it all.
I approached my men and said, “I see you have decided to leave.”
“Yes, and so should you. We have fought to free Shamalia, and look at what those ungrateful scum are calling us,” one of the men responded.
I looked at him and replied, “Don’t lie to yourself.
We came here to fight for the whole region. It was Shamalia’s location that forced us to begin with it.
If Misrost lied at the region’s border, we would have started from there. Our Shamalian brethren wouldn’t have hesitated to fight at our side as they have always done.
Our intertwined history shall always stand as a proof on their loyalty.”
“Save your words young leader. We’ve already made up our minds,” a middle-aged man said.
“Can I ask you a question, master?” I asked him.
He glared at me in disgust. I said raising my voice,
“What would you do if you returned to Misrost, and found your families hanged in public squares?” The men seemed shocked when I asked that, so I continued, “If you want to go, then go, no one will stop you; but be careful… your return will not make your lives any better; it will make it worse. The only chance you have to save your families is right here. If we succeed in ending the Nastorian occupation, we won’t need to worry what Sasan might do.
On the contrary, he will be the one to worry about what we will do to him. He will be the one escaping for his life.
If you are willing to waste that chance and go home, then know that whatever you do when you return will never save your families from Sasan’s revenge. You will only be submitting yourselves into his hands, and this is what he wants. He will accuse you of treason and kill you.
Thereafter, he will force your families to suffer the same very fate you want to protect them from.”
“We will go back and remove Sasan from authority.”
I looked at the man who uttered those stupid words and said, “Let’s assume that you succeed, the Nastorians will ram Misrost with their army. They will kill all those who would dare resist, and instate another traitor in Sasan’s place. Our only chance is to stay together as one army.”
“No man can forsake his family knowing that they suffer in his stead,” a man shouted.
I nodded saying, “True, and no man can protect his family from whatever destiny holds. All a man can do is make victorious what’s right, and entrust his beloved ones to Alaha’s care. He is the disposer of all affairs. In our situation, He is the only one we can trust. Nonetheless we must also remember that His divine destiny, no man can evade.”
I said this, walked back towards General Hodrog, and stood beside the man without uttering a word.
One of the men said, “Let’s go, lads. Our job here is done. It’s time to take care of our own families,” and he walked away. Many men followed him, but some hesitated.
They stood still for a while looking at the numbers leaving.
Their predicament was obvious, they felt it in their hearts that what I said was right, but their love for their families resisted it, and created a struggle that’s never easy for any man to endure.
I looked at General Hodrog, and said apologising,
“General, kindly forgive them. They are not traitors, they just can’t see things the same way we do.”
The man never showed any sign of resentment. He was extremely polite and said, “I’m the one who should apologise for my men’s attitude. Their misconduct won’t pass without punishment.”
“No, I beg you, sir. Let’s just calm the men down. I shall count the number of the men who remained, and then report to you the Misrostian legion’s condition. We must study the new situation and place our plan accordingly.”
He nodded and patted my shoulder in a kind manner.
He was keen on letting his men see this. I understood his kind gesture.
As I walked back, a ruddy middle-aged man from among those who hesitated to leave called my name.
He approached me and said, “Tell me the truth, if you knew that your wife and kids are tortured inside Sasan’s dungeons, would you have stayed?”
I responded saying, “Listen to me, brother. All I’m sure of is that going back won’t save those arrested; it will only make things worse. Sasan will think that his plan is successful, and he will continue to follow those extreme measures unstoppably. The only thing that can force him to stop is what we are doing right here. So in answer to your question, yes, I would stay here, and make sure that the Nastorians lose at Falastia. I would make them lose in a way that would strike fear inside Sasan and every traitor. Sasan’s extreme measures are nothing but a sign that fear from our resistance has truly found its way to his heart.”
After I answered the man, I walked back to the Misrostians who decided to stay. When I approached our location, I saw the men standing in ranks, facing one another, and training to fight with two swords. Amr and Marwan were showing them some of my moves. Orabio and Salamio stood watching in amusement. When I stood beside them, Salamio said, “Your training seems to have worked. The men decided to fight with two swords and compensate for those who left.”
“Fighting with two swords needs a lot of training.
The time we have is not enough,” I responded.
Orabio shook his head in agreement and said, “You’re right, but give them a chance and watch their progress though. The persistence in their eyes is different from what I have ever seen before.”
“I agree,” Salamio said. “Maybe those who left did us a favour after all. They took with them those who were hesitant and left us with those who would never surrender.
All praises be to Alaha.”
Their words were filled with hope although we have lost almost one-third of our forces. We were short of men, but rich with will. We also had plenty of weapons, which the men collected from Jar-Shamir valley after the battle.
I grabbed two of the swords and said, “So what are you waiting for? Let’s join them.”
My friends pulled out the swords they liked, and we started training the way we did when we were young.
Although these were hard times, we were able to find a small measure of hope in them. We were able to remember our childhood games, education, and training; and pass them to others. If I try to describe the outcome, I will fail for it was not something we planned, but it was something out of our capacity as humans. If I can say anything about it, I would say that it was a divine bliss.
As we trained and instructed the men, I saw the ruddy man who stopped me moments ago training amidst the men.
After a while, I noticed that some of the men from the other legions stood and watched in admiration. Later on, the generals of our army came too. When they saw us, General Hodrog said to his men, “Are these the ones you called traitors a while ago? It’s not by numbers that battles are won, but by the sincerity of the few who never surrender.”
92
At sunset, I was sitting with my four friends sharing half a roasted rabbit, barley bread, and some camels’ milk.
“Tell me the truth Marwan, didn’t you ever think of leaving with those who returned to Misrost?”
Marwan shook his head and said, “Of course I did.”
Orabio looked at the boy in shock and said, “You are frank, aren’t you!”
“I have nothing to be ashamed of. Even the bravest of all men experience fear once or twice in their lives.
Our situation isn’t exactly boding well. Besides, I stayed, haven’t I?”
“Ah, the boy is developing his wisdom,” Orabio said patting Marwan’s head.
“What made you stay?” Salamio asked.
Marwan pointed at Amr and said, “He did. When I joined the resistance, my father entrusted me to Amr. He told me,
‘From now on, this is your brother. Stay with him, and never leave his side.’ ”
Salamio looked at Amr and said, “What about you Amr, why didn’t you think of leaving like others have done?
Aren’t you afraid?”
Amr brooded for a moment then answered, “I’m always afraid, but I took an oath a long time ago to resist my fears…
Though, this was not the main reason.”
“Then what was?” Orabio asked.
“You are soaked up with what you learned from your mentors, so it shouldn’t be hard for you to understand. The man who raised me was a sheikh. He taught me that one of the main principles of our faith is that one must endure any personal harm for the greater good of all people.
The decision to stay had been rooted inside me since I was nine. Even if my family were inside Sasan’s dungeons, I would stay. Our cause is not personal. We are here for the future of the whole nation.”
We admired what our friend said. Salamio’s eyes shined, and he said, “I’ve been watching you Amr. Sometimes I can hear you reciting poetry verses when you sit alone. Do you like poetry?”
“Absolutely. My sheikh used to teach us poetry as he taught us the Holy Scriptures,” Amr responded.
Salamio nodded and said in a longing voice, “If the times were different, you and I could have opened the perfect diner amidst Fastotia. We could’ve given some intellectual sermons, presented literary works, organised poetry competitions. We could’ve invited scholars, writers, and critics. We could’ve contributed to managing the place, and renewed part of the long lost Misrostian legacy.”
A sad smile appeared on Amr’s face. He said,
“Who knows… maybe someday we could do that, my friend. It would be a great pleasure.”
“All right, we have two guys interested in spreading knowledge amidst laymen. Orabio and I want to take care of our family’s farms. What about you, Marwan, what do you intend to do when you return to Misrost?” I asked.
Marwan hesitated for a moment then said, “I don’t know, I’m not sure. Unlike you guys, I never received any proper education, nor did I ever learn anything other than fighting against the Nastorians.”
Orabio looked at the lad sympathetically and said, “You must have a dream for your life, lad. You are too young.
We won’t fight forever.”
“I know, but I never got the chance to think about such matters. The way I see it is that I’m older than to start learning at camps or with sheikhs like you did. I’m not that smart anyway, so I guess I will try to become a craftsman.”
“Who told you that you’re not smart?” I asked in denial.
Marwan remained silent for a moment then responded in a low tone, “It’s among the merits of men to know their true stature. I’m eighteen, Qotazio, I’m not a child.”
Orabio put down his cup and said, “Listen to me, lad, if I’m ever asked to describe you, I would say unhesitantly that you are one of the smartest, bravest, and most boding well young men I’ve ever met. Never underestimate yourself like this again. You can learn what we all have learned if you willed it. Don’t think that when we make fun of your persistent attitude in asking questions, we are belittling you, it’s absolutely the opposite of that. What did you think… that we would waste our time with someone of mediocre abilities? We’ve all recognised your qualities ever since we met you. If it weren’t so, would the supreme council have chosen you to join this team! Would they have entrusted you with secrets that even our high ranking officers know nothing about?”
Marwan stared at Orabio silently for a moment. His face became radiant as he listened to what Orabio was saying.
“That sounded great coming from you.” He said getting up.
He pointed at us and continued, “If any of you ever mock me or make fun of my questions again, I shall remind you of what this honest man just said.” He gave every one of us a threatening look, and then sat back down.
Amr smiled and winked at Marwan.
Salamio hemmed and said directing his words to Orabio,
“I guess you just made a big mistake, lad.”
We laughed loudly. Our voice made the men turn and look at us in astonishment. I guess they were probably wondering what could possibly make us laugh like this!
Our situation was unenviable, not even a bit.
93
While we continued to train the men, a messenger from Pharania arrived. He delivered a message to General Hodrog. After he left, the general invited his peers for a meeting. Later on, he summoned me to his tent.
“This message just arrived from Pharania,” he said in a worried tone.
“What does it say, sir?”
“It’s directed to you, Qotazio. You can read it,” General Hodrog said stretching his arm with the small scroll.
I took it and read,
To Qotazio Al-Misrosty,
I gave what you said a lot of thinking. Meet me at the castle of Derduth tomorrow. We must discuss some matters before the next battle.
Esmel Hashm.
I looked at General Hodrog, and asked, “That’s good news, general. Why do you seem unhappy?”
“Something is wrong here, Qotazio. The resistance affairs are never dealt with this way.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“The man wants you to go to Derduth castle!”
“Yes, what’s wrong with that?”
“It’s a ruined castle inside a border town between Pharania and Shamalia. The place was abandoned decades ago. Why would he choose such an isolated, dangerous place! This calls for distrust.”
I responded saying, “The man is living like nomad Bedouins amidst the desert, general. He is targeted to be killed by his enemies and probably many of his countrymen. The location is perfect as a hideout, and his men can easily guard it against surprise attacks. There is no better place to hold a secret meeting. The man sent us a message holding his signature and seal. I think this should be reason enough for trust.”
General Hodrog brooded shortly then said, “Don’t go.
If he wants to meet, let him come to us.”
I didn’t understand why General Hodrog seemed intent on wasting this chance. My comrades and I were waiting for such a message on pins and needles. I thought for a moment then said, “General, we need the man more than he needs us. We sought his help, and thankfully, he responded.
Obviously, he is moving towards Falastia. We can’t just turn our backs to his stretched hand. It will be like cutting off our own hands.”
“Like hell we can,” the old man said in a wild burst of anger. “We fought without him at Jar-Shamir, and we can fight without him at Falastia.”
I remained silent for a moment giving him a chance to calm down then said, “Sir, I have met the man, and I saw it in his eyes. Esmel wants to come to our aid. If he has his concerns and wishes to discuss them, we should give him a chance. The castle is less than one-day journey from here.
This is a quick, one man’s mission that might save the whole nation. If we waste it, then we have betrayed our trust.”
General Hodrog frowned and seemed offended by my words. He remained silent for a moment then said,
“Son, listen to me, I have been involved in such matters for decades. There is something wrong with this message.
Don’t go.”
I wasn’t able to understand the reasons behind General Hodrog’s worries. I said, “General, look at us. Look at the men. They are trying to move heaven and earth out there, and they never complained. We know that every one of them has a family. Every one of them has his aspirations, and plans for a true life after this is over. If there is anything we can do to end this and help them return to their normal lives, and I was the means of getting it done, I won’t hesitate to do it. With all due respect, sir, this is my choice, not yours.”
The man looked me in the eyes, but it wasn’t anger I saw, it was fear… a fear I never understood at that moment; and admittedly, I wish I did.
General Kalil looked at him and said, “The young leader has a point. I think that our duty ends with explaining to him the dangers of the situation. He must be the one to decide whether he accepts to go on this mission or not.” Then he looked at me, and continued, “Either way, he will have our support.”
“If this message was a forgery, there won’t be much to do,” General Hodrog replied.
“But general… how could it be! No one knows of my meeting with Esmel Hashm but him and us. No one even knows the man’s real identity. If we assume that we were watched, then the Nastorian scouts saw nothing but some Shamalian and Pharanian men meeting for a short while, shorter than to discuss anything that could be related to the war at hand. Thereafter, they departed, and every group went on their way. The most they could make out of this would be that we were envoys delivering a message to the Pharanian resistance, and that happens a lot.”
The general didn’t seem convinced, so I continued,
“I will go alone. If I get arrested, forget about me.
The Misrostian legion is the smallest among all legions, and they already have enough leaders. If I don’t return, it won’t make any difference. On the other hand, if this mission was successful, it could change the whole course of the coming battle. The men deserve this chance.”
“I’m afraid Qotazio is right,” General Idris said directing his words to his old friend.
General Hodrog remained silent for a long moment then responded, “In this case, you won’t go alone…”
I tried to object but I never got the chance to say a thing.
General Hodrog hit the table violently with his hand, and interrupted my sentence shouting, “Silence young man.
This is an order. I’m the highest-ranking officer in this army, and you shall do as I say. Do you understand?”
I was shocked from the harsh way he uttered the words.
It was the first time for him to speak to me like this.
“Damn it, young man, answer the question. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” I replied sadly.
As I write this account, I can’t but remember how sincere that man was. He gave me every chance and tried persistently to make me change my mind, but I was too stubborn to understand his concerns. I was utterly convinced that I was making the right thing and that it was for the common good of our army. At that moment, I thought General Hodrog was different from my uncle.
All I saw was an ex-officer in the Shamalian army, and as such, he was used to giving orders, and his men followed without any opposition. Now, all I can say is how foolish and blind I was to think of that man this way. He never did anything to signify such attitude ever since I first met him.
His concerns were justified, as this was his area of expertise. I should have listened to what he said. If I had any excuse, it would be that I didn’t know him well enough.
I based my opinion on what I had seen other officers do when they seize control of any matter. Most sadly, my analogy in this man’s case was wrong.
“The castle lies behind the Northern gates of the town.
They will expect you to go directly towards that gate, but you won’t. You shall not approach the town before midnight, and you shall enter it from the southern side.
A squad of fifteen Shamalian men will escort you. Three of them shall enter with you, while the others hide outside the city walls. Their presence must remain unknown.
They shall only interfere when necessary. You shall enter the town secretly and inspect what’s going on inside before you reveal your presence to anyone.”
“But the message said tomorrow,” I said.
The general looked at me angrily and said, “Are you telling me that if you arrive early, Esmel Hashm will be offended?”
I didn’t answer, so the old man continued, “With the least doubts, don’t take any risks. Leave as quietly and as quickly as possible. Do you understand, lad?”
I nodded saying, “Yes general.”
The man stared at a map of the Shamalian borderlands.
He said harshly, “Go prepare yourself then. You shall leave right away,” and he never looked up as I walked out of his tent.
94
At midnight, a squad of fifteen Shamalian soldiers and I were hiding amidst the mountain rocks outside the southern skirts of the border town in which Derduth castle resides.
We were watching the guard walking forth and back atop the city wall. At the right moment, I signalled the men, and we started running towards the wall. We were carrying a thirty feet long wooden pole having handles staggered at both sides, one every two feet. When I reached the wall, I held on tight to the top two handles, and walked on the wall with my feet, while my comrades continued to push the pole until I reached the top edge of the wall. I jumped behind the guard, and knocked him out with a couple of solid punches on his nap. I tied a rope around one of the walls’ pillars and threw it down. Three of the men climbed up. One man took the guard’s place, while the other two followed me.
We sneaked through the old city’s alleys and side streets until we reached the yard facing the castle. The map General Hodrog gave us was highly accurate. It granted us a complicated but safe access to the yard. We took shelter behind an old rock wall surrounding the premises and watched the place for a while. Everything seemed normal at the beginning, but then I heard a door squeak. A man walked out from the castle. It was dark, and I was unable to
see his face. He took a few steps into the yard, picked up something from the ground, and walked towards a torch.
It was a straw that he picked. He was trying to light his pipe.
Pharanians do not smoke pipes like us, I said to myself.
When the man brought down the lighted straw and started lighting his pipe, I saw his face. It was Hazeem, captain of Fastotia’s army forces and Sasan’s right arm.
I ordered my comrades to return to the point from which we entered the city. “This is an ambush,” I said.
When we started moving, there appeared tens of soldiers from the buildings near the yard, and they attacked.
We pulled out our swords and moved back through the narrow alleys. We were running as fast as we could through the winding route. The arrows of the soldiers were missing us by few inches every time. Before we reached the wall, I received an arrow in my left thigh. I knew that when we reach the wall, we would still need some time to ascend it and escape. Since that I was injured, I was going to be nothing but a burden. It took me a moment to realise that I have to stop the Nastorians at the narrow side streets. This would help me face a few bunch at a time. I hid behind a nearby cart, broke the arrow, pulled out my second sword, and charged the soldiers approaching. It was a surprise attack, which they didn’t anticipate. Before they knew it, I had already struck away the bows the first two were holding and stabbed the third. Then I started striking with both swords as fast as I could. One of my comrades called my name, so I shouted, “Go, I’m right behind you,” and I continued to fight the soldiers in the narrow alley. They were fierce, but so was I. My body was aching with pain from the wounds I received, but the soldiers’ losses were bigger than mine. After a quick fierce battle, they were starting to show fear. Their comrades’ bodies were right there between us. This made them hesitate before attacking again. They decided to retreat and release their arrows at me. There was nothing to do at that moment but to face my
fate with pride. I just stood there smiling, awaiting their arrows. Then suddenly, I heard a loud thunderous cry from behind. Before I turned, a man tripped me to the ground, while another charged the soldiers pushing the handcart in front of him. He ran on top of the soldiers lying on the ground, and advanced hitting the soldiers about to shoot.
He pulled out his sword and struck at the soldiers with one hand, while he continued to push the cart forward with the other. Two more of my comrades appeared and started shooting their arrows back at the Nastorians forcing them to take shelter. By the time we got up, my rescuer was running back towards us shouting, “Go…go.” That was when I saw that man’s face. It was Orabio.
We reached the wall, and our comrades threw us three ropes. We grabbed the ropes, and some of the men pulled us up, while others released their arrows at the Nastorians.
We reached the top and threw the ropes towards the other side. As we climbed down trying to leave that death trap, more arrows were shot at us. I looked down and saw a Nastorian century advancing from the western gates of the city. Two of my comrades fell by the Nastorians’ arrows.
I knew that if we tried to escape, they would hunt us down one by one. The men formed a line and used their light shields in intercepting the arrows shot at us. One of our men lighted an arrow and shot it upwards towards the Nastorian forces. At first, I didn’t understand why he did that, but then I understood. It was a sign for another force of our men to shoot night arrows in that same direction. It became evident that General Hodrog had placed an emergency plan, which he never informed me of. The Nastorians were shocked when many of them fell under that unexpected attack.
I seized the opportunity and shouted at the men to attack.
We charged with full force from two directions. As the battle aggravated, more of my comrades fell. Seeing this, I lost all temper and struck to kill. I had a lot of anger raging inside me against those traitors, and I was unable to tame
myself. Hazeem came out of the western gate leading a force of about fifty men. The moment I saw him, I shouted his name challenging him, but the coward ordered his soldiers to kill me instead of facing me himself. Over twenty of his men advanced towards me, and I noticed that my comrades were still far behind. I wanted Hazeem, and nothing could have stopped me. I kicked sand in the face of the closest two men, leapt striking their legs, and rose up stabbing two more soldiers. I kicked a fifth soldier, and landed my right sword on his collarbone. I blocked a blade strike from the left, bound another from the right, and pressed my opponents’ swords towards the ground. I kicked a third attacker coming from behind, and turned around striking the two men with one blow. I jumped rightwards evading a couple of blows, and stabbed a man attacking from that direction. Then I turned towards the left pressing a blade with one sword, and striking with the other. As I did that last move, I received a stab in my trunk. It was that coward, Hazeem. I retreated a couple of steps in pain. When the remaining of Hazeem’s men saw that I was wounded, they advanced towards me howling while the coward stayed back. My wounds weren’t fatal, but I was bleeding profusely. At that moment, I heard the same thunderous cry again, and Orabio ran past me like the wind. There wasn’t one critical moment that night except that Orabio was somewhere around me fighting like a lion. He held two big swords in his hands and fought like never before. His strong strikes and fearful cries struck fear into the hearts of the soldiers. I joined his attack advancing towards Hazeem.
I dealt with three soldiers in the way, and then landed my first strike at the coward. He blocked it retreating a couple of steps. His looks were filled with hatred. I provocatively stared at him urging him to attack if he would dare. He screamed and lunged forward raising his shield in front of his trunk and preparing to strike with his sword. At the right moment, I turned to the right dropping on my left knee and
hampered him with my calf. He lost balance and fell on his face. As I got up, he was crawling away reaching for another sword.
“You wish to fight as real men do,” I said, and then I attacked landing quick strikes with both swords, changing my aim every time. Hazeem blocked as many strikes as he could, and tried to counter-attack, but he was not as good as he thought. When he tried to strike at my neck, I dodged and placed my right-hand sword in his way. He stared at me in disbelief then fell joining his kind of traitors in hell.
“Return to the city… Retreat,” screamed one of the Nastorian soldiers when he saw Hazeem falling.
I looked around searching for Orabio, and I saw my friend lying down on the ground twenty feet away. I ran towards him and noticed he was holding his right side.
I dropped my swords and kneeled beside his body trying to check his wound. When I tried to remove his hand, he told me to stop.
“I have to pull up your clothes to check on your wound,”
I said.
“Let me be, lad. I know I’m passing to the other side,”
he said calmly. When I heard that, I felt like dying myself.
“I can stop the bleeding, let me check…”
“It’s alright, Qotazio. Everything is going to be all right.
Don’t worry about me,” he said faintly then closed his eyes losing conscious.
I covered the wound with my hands, and ordered a man standing nearby to heat a dagger with one of the torches lying on the ground. I removed Orabio’s garment. Blood was covering his body. He had over ten wounds, the most dangerous of which was the one he held. I cauterised that wound. When I did that, he groaned in pain, but he didn’t wake up. I tore my cloak, folded a piece twice, and tied it around his trunk pressing the remaining wounds closed.
“Carry him immediately to the nearest healer,” I said this and collapsed beside my friend.
95
When I woke up, I was lying down inside a tent.
My wound was bandaged, and some of the scratches on my body had already formed scabs. I must have been unconscious for at least two days, I thought. I was able to hear the voices of the men training, so I realised I was back at our camp. I got up, wrapped my body in the sheet I was covered with, and walked out.
General Hodrog was standing amidst some of his men.
When he saw me, he approached quickly and said,
“All praises be to Alaha…”
“How is Orabio, general?” I interrupted.
His grim expression said it all. From its location, I knew Orabio’s wound was fatal, but I had some hope he would make it.
“I’m sorry, lad. He died in his wounds at dawn.”
96
Amr and Marwan were digging the grave, while Salamio and I stood beside our friend’s shrouded body. In the earth flying out of the hole, I saw Orabio and I playing as children, fighting with our wooden swords, chasing into the fields, hiding amidst the trees, eating together, laughing together, and training together… Many memories passed in front of my eyes tearing my heart to pieces. After they finished digging the hole, Amr signalled us to bring in the body. I kneeled and placed my palm on Orabio’s chest one last time then kissed it. Salamio and I carried the body.
Marwan was choking with his silent tears. Even the young lad who only knew Orabio for a short while was unable to bear the burden of his departure. On seeing his condition, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. I knew that our lives would never be complete again. A huge part of me died as I carried my friend’s body with Salamio,
and we placed it inside the grave. I took a hand full of earth, poured it gently on his face saying, “From dust, you were created.” Salamio did the same saying, “To dust, you return.” Then Amr signalled Marwan to finish the ceremony, and the young man poured the last handful of dust saying, “And from it, you shall be resurrected.”
My love for life, for happiness, and for the future was buried with Orabio as we filled his grave with earth. For the first time, I knew how it is to be filled with hate and spite towards someone, not towards his deeds. I took an oath that I would never spare a Nastorian life again until they leave our countries and never return. Traitors have no place amongst us, nor could we ever have a real future while they continue to dwell in the region.
We buried Orabio along with the other martyrs in one of Falastia’s old cemeteries. It was one mile away from its eastern borders.
“They died so that we may retrieve Falastia from the Nastorians, and this is the closest cemetery to the region.
May their souls be resurrected to fight at our side over and over again,” were General Hodrog’s words.
We stood at the graves for a while, and then the men started leaving. My friends and I stayed behind until it was almost sunset, and then we returned to the camp.
97
“Where have you been?”
“I was discussing our situation with the generals.
I needed to send a message to General Obadiah informing him of the new developments. He is the Misrostian resistance leader now. He must know everything.”
“Did you inform him about Orabio?”
“Yes lad, they must know.”
This conversation occurred between Amr and Salamio at night while we sat outside the camp. I wanted to sit alone,
but Amr and Marwan insisted on coming with me. I listened to them silently, unable to imagine Ramla’s condition when she learns about Orabio’s martyrdom. What hurt the most was the children who had lost their father, the man who died to save a worthless cousin, and a stubborn, reckless friend.
Salamio approached and sat on the ground beside me.
He remained silent for a while then said, “How are you, my friend?”
The word landed on my heart like a hammer. I didn’t believe that I was worthy of having friends anymore.
“I’m fine,” I replied coldly trying to drive him away.
“Good,” he said.
Another silent moment passed by, then Salamio asked,
“What are we going to do next?”
“Why are you asking me?”
“You are the Misrostian field leader, there is no one else to ask,” he responded putting his hand on my shoulder.
I pushed his hand away, got up, and snarled, “I’m not your leader anymore. From now on, I’m only a soldier among the men. So you better start dealing with me as such.
Do you understand?”
“Qotazio, Calm down. Don’t let Orabio’s martyrdom distract you from the bigger cause…”
“Bigger cause… what bigger cause! Orabio’s death opened my eyes to the biggest cause there is in this damn war. Do you know what that is? It is not to think about anything except killing as much Nastorians as possible until we kill them all, or die trying. There is no bigger cause than this. All the rest and all of what we have been doing was nothing but pure nonsense.”
He got up and responded angrily, “Do you call our nation’s legacy nonsense? Your own parents’, and theirs as well! Wake up. Don’t let your grief drive you insane.”
“Go to hell,” I said pushing him away and walked towards the camp.
He chased after me saying, “Do you remember when Johan died? I felt the same way you feel right now.
Remember what you told me as we sat alone amidst that old house back in Fastotia. You said, ‘we must concentrate on our mission in order to avenge Johan and all the fallen.’
Have you forgotten your own words?”
I ignored him and continued to walk, so he grabbed me by my shoulder and pulled me screaming, “Look at me.”
When I turned, I saw tears in his eyes. He continued,
“Wake up you stupid coward. You are not the only one who has lost a friend here. We are all suffering the same pain, but we’re still holding on to the same chord that brought us all here. If you let go now, then you are no better than the Nastorian traitors…”
“Shut up… shut up,” I screamed. I didn’t realise that I was grabbing Salamio by his clothes and pushing him back except when Amr and Marwan stopped me.
He wiped away a tear that escaped his eyes and said,
“Do you know what Orabio’s last words were?”
I looked at him in shock, so he said, “Yes, that’s right.
You were not the last one to see him alive. I was.”
“You’re a damn liar,” I shouted, “You’re nothing but a damn liar.”
“No, he’s not. We were there too,” Amr said.
I stared at them not knowing what to believe anymore.
“He said, ‘Tell Qotazio that his friendship was my life’s greatest joy. Tell him that fighting along his side was my life’s greatest honour.’ ” Salamio stopped wiping more of his tears away, and then continued, “I wonder if he were looking down upon us now, would he still think the same way.”
When I heard all that, my heart was about to burst with pain, and I wished it did. I was shaking unable to breathe, and my chest bone was about to fracture from the pressure.
The pain was spreading rapidly to every inch of my body.
I turned around and walked away hurriedly until I reached an isolated place, far away from the camp. Unable to hold on anymore, I fell on my knees and cried my heart out.
98
For how long I cried, I cannot tell, but I did so until there were no more tears in my eyes. I was lying on the ground amidst nowhere. With the first light of dawn, I tried to push my aching body into a sitting position. My wound was seeping blood, and I felt dizzy. An overwhelming desire called upon me to just lie there till I die, and I did surrender to that idea for a moment, but then…
“Dear Lord! What are you doing here, lad?”
I looked up, and I saw the same ruddy man who didn’t leave with his fellow Misrostians and decided to stay.
He was staring down at me and drying his face and arms with his turban’s tail. At first, I thought I was imagining his presence. He kneeled and tried to pull me into a sitting position.
“O Lord, you’re bleeding,” he said staring at his palm.
He pulled a waterskin off his neck, uncoiled his turban quickly, and poured some water on it. He uncovered my abdomen, wiped the blood, and looked under my bandage.
“Your stitches are loose, lad. You could have bled to death. Don’t worry. I will fix you. I used to work as a healer in Fastotia’s infirmary.”
I looked at his reddish-brown beard and freckled ruddy face, and then asked faintly, “Is your name Shamum?”
“How did you know that?” he replied.
When he didn’t receive an answer, he pulled the pin that held his garment closed neatly, and cleaned it. He then took off the garment, and cut his shirt at the shoulder with his teeth. He pulled out a thread saying, “That should do.”
After he joined the thread to the pin, he started giving me new stitches and said, “You’re lucky I have to wear this silk
shirt under my garment. I caught an itchy infection back at Fastotia, and the best way to ease its sting is wearing silk above the infection location.”
I was in extreme pain as he penetrated my abdominal flesh with his pin, but I asked, “How did you catch that infection?”
He answered, “It’s a long, sad story, lad. If I ever catch the person responsible for that, I will beat him till he begs me to stop, then I’ll beat him some more.” He pushed the pin hard as he said that forcing me to groan in pain.
“Sorry lad, you’re the one who reminded me of that idiot.”
I groaned again for he pushed the pin harder.
“Don’t worry, maybe Alaha is punishing him for what he has done,” I said.
He pushed his pin one last time and said, “I hope so, lad.
He deserves it.”
He helped me into a half sitting position, poured some water in my mouth, and asked, “Now, what were you doing here? Why aren’t you sleeping inside the camp?”
I thought of a quick answer and said, “I wanted to sit alone and think. It seems that I fell asleep.” Then I asked him, “What were you doing here?”
He nodded in a silly manner and answered, “I always get away from the camp when I want to relief myself. It’s not healthy to use the same place everyone else is using.”
I looked at his hands in disgust, but he said, “Oh no, lad.
I’m a healer; do you think I would have been one if I didn’t know how to take care of my personal cleanliness?”
He helped me up and continued, “Don’t worry, you will be all right.”
As we walked back towards the camp, I asked him,
“What brought a healer here? Don’t you think you are far away from your area of proficiency?”
He sighed and said, “A long time ago, I received my education at the hands of the best physicians in Misrost.
Back at that time, it was enough for people anywhere to know that you are a Misrostian healer, and they would show you all the respect in the world. They would invite you to stay amidst them, and treat their ill ones. Anything you ask for was provided. Any advice you give was followed.
We were always welcomed, and our students came from everywhere. They learned at our infirmaries; and later on, they returned to their countries, and spread our knowledge.
We received students from Romestia in the North to Pharania in the south… from Shamalia in the east to Magharbia in the west. Now look at us, today we are treated like rubbish. No one respects knowledge anymore. Rarely do we receive any students. Never do we receive any support to travel and do more researches. Things aren’t the same as they were when the king was still in power. The Nastorians stepped upon the progress of our predecessors and all their efforts. Neither us nor the next generations will have any chance to rise again if this continues.”
When I was listening to the man, I felt as if I was listening to a voice coming from deep within my soul. He continued, “Then it happened that one day morning, I opened my house’s door to go to work, and I found a note under my feet. I picked it up, read what it said, and decided to come here instead of going to the infirmary. I bade my wife farewell, kissed my children, and here I am... walking side by side with one of the Misrostian leaders. It’s truly an honour.”
I looked at him and said, “The honour is all mine, master healer.”
He smiled faintly and said, “My condolences for your loss. I heard of your cousin’s martyrdom last night.”
I nodded silently, so he continued, “I guess what you told me when I was about to leave would make the perfect consolation.”
I had no clue what he meant, so he continued,
“Remember when I was about to leave, you told me,
‘No man can protect his family from whatever destiny holds. All a man can do is make victorious what’s right, and entrust his beloved ones to Alaha’s care. He is the disposer of all affairs, He is the only one we can trust, and His divine destiny, no man can evade.’ Such wise words coming from a young man like you, they still echo inside my mind since that day.”
I couldn’t but stop and look at the man unable to utter a word.
“Master Shamum,” I said after a long moment.
He looked at me unable to understand my weird expression, or why I stopped.
“What is it, lad? Are you constipated? If you are, I have some medicine which I developed myself…”
“Thank you, sir,” I grabbed his hand and shook it then walked back hurriedly towards the camp.
“Hey lad, wait for me,” the healer yelled.
The least I can say is that, this man didn’t only treat my loosened stitches, he treated my spirit as well. I shall never forget his favour upon me.
99
When I reached the camp, I told a couple of men to summon everyone to the training field hurriedly. One of them offered me a piece of bread and a cup of milk shyly saying, “It’s not much.”
I accepted his offering and said, “Thank you brother, I was starving. May Alaha feed you from paradise and quench your thirst on a hot day.”
I swigged the milk, handed him back his cup, and ate as I walked ahead. I chose two swords from the ones piled and stood waiting amidst the empty field. The men started coming a bunch at a time. When their numbers increased, I said, “A real warrior defends what’s right and worthy.
Soldiers are not real warriors. They are labourers who get
paid to hold a weapon and fight. There is no greater honour for a warrior than to grip his sword and raise it in the face of evildoers. How be it with a warrior who raises two swords! A warrior who uses two swords on the battlefield is like an eagle… never easy to catch, and never easy to dodge. From this day on, I shall teach you how to use two swords, and how to be invincible when you face our enemies.”
I started playing with my swords as I spoke giving the men examples of different moves.
“Fighting with two swords is all about unity. You can’t fight with two swords unless you believe it’s not swords you’re holding, but an unbreakable shield that revolves around your body, blocking and striking in harmonious motions that complete one another.”
I intensified my speed as I spoke, and then started moving around and turning as I do in real battle.
“And to reach such state, you must find unity between your mind, your heart, and your soul. I promise that when you do that, you will be able to unleash the magnificent warriors enclosed inside your bodies.”
I stopped observing the men’s faces then said, “Soldiers fight because they are ordered to do so by their superior officers. On the other hand, warriors never stop fighting, even if they do nothing but reclaim dead lands. The majority of this army might not be soldiers. We are farmers, teachers, labourers, craftsmen, healers, and scholars, but real worriers, we shall forever be.”
The men’s voices were rising with approval comments as I spoke, so I continued, “From this day on, we will train like never before. We will train until every one of you unleashes the real warrior enclosed inside of him. It doesn’t matter whether it was our destiny to die here or live a hundred years. Only as real worriers, we shall live, and as real worriers, we shall die.”
The men hailed with heartiness, so I said, “What are you waiting for? Pull out your swords and let’s get started.”
I chose a tall, muscular man and asked him to attack me with full force. I gave him a chance to deliver a couple of strikes, and then counter-attacked until he was unable to block mine.
“Again, but change your tactic,” I yelled. He tried once more, but the results were similar.
I asked him, “What did you notice in the previous two trials?”
The man nodded and said, “That your attack was unstoppable.”
The men standing nearby approved, so I asked,
“And what made it unstoppable?”
“It was random. I was never able to tell where the next strike will land.”
“You’re wrong my friend. There was absolutely nothing random about my attack.”
I stood beside the man and said, “Imitate my moves, and try to feel the stream therein.”
I repeated one of my previous attacks slowly, and the man followed every move with the same steps. After I finished, I asked him, “Can you do this again but faster?”
He closed his eyes taking a deep breath then repeated the attack faster.
“Again but faster,” I said, and he complied.
“Now tell me, my friend, was that random?”
He seemed thrilled and answered, “No, it was as if every move produced the next with the least effort… as if my arms followed the same order, but did separate tasks.”
“Exactly,” I replied. “Can you teach this to another ten men and train with them on blocking this attack?”
“I can do that,” he replied excitedly.
“The nearest ten men shall train with their comrade here,” I said patting his shoulder.
I moved to another group and showed them different moves. I continued to move from one group to the next.
With every group, I changed my tactic.
While I trained the men, I saw my three friends standing outside the training field and watching. I walked over towards them and asked, “Where the hell have you been?”
Amr signalled Marwan. They pulled out their swords and started training immediately. Salamio didn’t move an inch. He stared at me silently for a moment then asked,
“What the hell happened to you over the night?”
“Are we going to train the men, or are we going to talk?”
He pulled out his swords and said, “We are going to train, and I’m going to kick your butt for once.”
It was then that I realised I had lost a friend, but I still had three others at my side. As I conversed with Salamio, I couldn’t help imagining Orabio standing nearby and smiling. I thanked Alaha for this blessing and continued to train my brothers in arms.
100
For three weeks, we trained day and night. The only time we were not training was when we slept or prayed. We even ate our meals in the training field. Most of our food was nothing but some dried dates, milk, and bread.
Occasionally, small pieces of roasted meat were distributed.
When every group of men had attained special attack skills, I made them face another group from their comrades, and battle with moderate speed.
“Give your comrade a chance to study your moves while you study his. Try to feel the stream in your opponent’s moves, and use them against him,” I told the men.
With time, I noticed that their speed was developing.
Their ability to anticipate their opponents’ moves was getting better. I organised duel contests among them.
I developed the duels into small group battles then into large
group battles. I made every man face two of his comrades, and then three, then four, and I didn’t stop until they were able to fight for long times, and none would lose his swords.
By the end of the third week, the men had lost a lot of weight, their muscles were more developed, their arms were stronger, and their palms were harder. The most important thing I noticed was that their faces reflected more serenity than ever before. When I saw that, I knew they had found unity within their souls.
One morning, they were training, and I didn’t show up, so they dispatched a young man to look for me. He found me sitting quietly outside the camp meditating, so he said calmly, “Master Qotazio, the men are waiting for you.
Why didn’t you come to the training field today? You were always the first to arrive and start training. Are you feeling well?”
I looked at the young man who wasn’t any older than Marwan and said, “I’m perfectly well, my friend, but my work is done. You don’t need me anymore. From now on, you shall be the ones to train yourselves, and even develop new methods that I never taught. This is your duty now, not mine. From now on, I’m no more than your comrade and friend. Whenever and wherever you call upon me as such, I shall answer, but I’m no longer your mentor.”
He frowned and asked, “Have we done something wrong? Did any of us offend you in any way?”
I smiled and said, “You did nothing but bring happiness to my heart, but a time must come when students become mentors themselves, and now is your time.”
“But we still need to learn a lot,” he said.
“We all do. You should never stop learning as long as you shall live, but you have already learned what you can from me. You should now continue to train, and develop your skills unstoppably until your last breath, even if you grow old. I learned this from my uncle and General Fareed.
Although they were the oldest among the resistance leaders, they were the ones who led our horsemen at Jar-Shamir battle, and there, they received their martyrdom.”
He brooded shortly then asked, “Can I tell you a secret, Master Qotazio?”
“Only if you stop calling me master… I’m just Qotazio.”
He hesitated before he said, “Sometimes I feel embarrassed from my countrymen, and I feel embarrassed to be a Misrostian. Many of our men have left. Those remaining are no more than half the original force that attended Jar-Shamir battle. Am I a traitor to feel this way?”
“No you’re not, you’re just angry at them. That’s normal as long as you don’t allow this anger to change into a harmful act against anyone. With time, you will learn to forgive and find excuses for those who left. They haven’t done anything against the human nature. They just left to protect their families. According to their convictions, that was the best thing to do.”
“Do you forgive them?”
“Yes, I do.”
“But they have left us outnumbered and on the verge of a fierce battle!”
“They did, but Alaha didn’t. Look at yourself and your comrades. Look at what you’ve become. I guess it was Alaha’s plan from the beginning that the Misrostian force remaining here would not be big. Otherwise, how would Salamio and I have succeeded to train you all as we were trained during our youth? How would you all have attained such magnificent persistency to endure the past weeks?
Actually, those who left did us a favour.”
After a moment of silence, he said, “I’m afraid Master…
I mean Qotazio.”
“I’m afraid too, my friend. We are only human.”
“How do you deal with your fears, if I may ask?”
“You can ask all you want. I usually extinguish my fear by training, praying, and meditation. It all depends on the situation at hand.”
“How can I be sure that I’m ready?” he asked.
I got up, pulled out my swords, and ordered him to do the same. “Defend yourself,” I said then attacked with full force. The young man blocked six of my strikes then he counter-attacked. Our duel continued for a while until I said, “Enough.” I shook my head and continued catching my breath, “You’re ready.”
He smiled in excitement and said, “I can’t wait to tell my comrades what just happened. What do you order me to tell the men?”
After a moment of thinking, I answered the young man saying, “Tell them that a time shall come when they will be the ones to save Misrost and the entire region. This is their duty and burden. Only when they fulfil it, they shall find their long lost pride, and retrieve their honour.”
101
“Welcome lad,” General Hodrog said when I entered the command tent. He was discussing the battle plan with the other generals.
“At your service, general,” I said.
“We have been following what you were doing the past weeks, Qotazio, or shall I say, Master Qotazio?” he said in a proud fatherly manner.
“Qotazio is fine, sir,” I responded.
“I want you to look at this map before we begin to discuss our plan.”
I pondered over the map spread on the table for a while.
After some thinking, I said, “You want to drag them into Naqom deserts?”
“Exactly,” the general replied looking at his comrades.
“Why would you want to meet them in an open field, sir?
Based on the numbers, this will be to their advantage!”
I said unable to understand the generals’ point of view.
His eyes narrowed, and he asked, “When your uncle dispatched you and your comrades to gather the Misrostian forces, he stipulated upon something, can you remember what it was?”
“Yes sir, I do. He ordered us to choose men who master the usage of swords beside the other weapons. He wanted us to find those who form teams and complete one another.”
“Why do you think he did that?”
“It must have been related to the battle plan,” I replied.
The general shook his head and said, “No lad. Your uncle’s purpose from the very beginning was to prepare a swordsmen force unlike any other. It has always been his conviction that swordsmen are the ones who win the battles, not the cavalry. Your uncle had always been planning to declare you the high commander of a united force of swordsmen in our army. This is why we summoned you here tonight, Master Qotazio.”
General Kalil then said, “We want you to lead a joined force of swordsmen from all countries in the next battle, Qotazio. You and your men shall make the forefront of this force. Our men are all skilled and brave. You saw them fighting, and you know. Nevertheless, the next battle is going to need more than skill and courage. It needs a miracle. We believe that you can make this miracle happen.”
“And what might that miracle be, general?” I asked.
They exchanged a look that worried me.
General Hodrog said, “We want you to lead the men and win the battle against the Nastorian swordsmen. This means that you shall face a force ten times your current number.”
“You want us to fight fifteen thousand Nastorian swordsmen?” I asked. Again, I didn’t like the look on their faces.
General Hodrog replied, “No lad. Thirty-five hundred men shall join your force and operate under your command.” He paused shortly then continued, “Your combined force shall face fifty thousand Nastorian swordsmen.”
I was shocked by the number, “Fifty thousand swordsmen! The whole Nastorian force was not supposed to reach that number. How many men do they have as cavalry, archers, and spearmen then?” I asked in anger.
General Kalil looked at General Idris signalling him to join the conversation. The man said, “Listen, Qotazio, my men intercepted a messenger three days ago. The message we found with him was ciphered. One of our spies helped us decipher it…”
“Salamio?” I said interrupting.
The look on their faces confirmed it. I couldn’t help but laugh at that moment.
“What makes you laugh, lad?” General Kalil asked.
“Maybe the fact that you hide things from me as if I’m the threat here,” I said roguishly.
“Who said we’re hiding anything?” he asked in denial.
“What difference would it make as to the identity of the person who deciphered the message? That is irrelevant,”
he said angrily.
“Qotazio, don’t let the side information distract you.
Concentrate on what General Idris was saying,” General Hodrog added.
They were right. I looked at the man waiting for him to finish what he started. He continued, “The message was conveying some orders from Safin An-Nastory himself to Sasan. He ordered him to dispatch his southern forces to Falastia, not through the narrow passage of Gazonia, but from the south. They are going to cross Qalzam Sea, into Pharania. In short, he wants to flank us from both directions—west and south—in the open fields of Shamalia.”
The general hushed for a moment then said, “Moreover, our scouts in the other countries confirmed that vast movements for the Nastorians in Magharbia and Afraconia was taking place. Putting the previous together, we came to one conclusion. The Nastorian southern force isn’t only going to comprise foot soldiers from Misrost, but from Magharbia and Afraconia as well. Their estimated numbers shall reach twenty thousand soldiers. They shall arrive within two weeks.”
General Hodrog added, “Safin obviously wants to wipe his loss at Jar-Shamir along with our army from existence.”
Of course, this explained why the generals wanted to drag the Nastorians into Naqom deserts. They wanted to keep them away from the Shamalian cities. I pondered over the map, and then asked, “But how shall you force them to change their destination towards Naqom deserts?”
“We will wait till they reach northern Pharania then we shall withdraw our forces from Shamalia towards southern Falastia…”
“They will think we’re escaping,” I interrupted.
“Yes, and they will try to cut our escape route by changing the destination of their southern forces from Shamalia to Naqom deserts,” General Hodrog replied.
“This way they will travel for days on foot amidst the burning sands of Pharania. By the time they reach Naqom deserts, they will be exhausted,” I commented.
“Exactly, lad. If Pharanians won’t join the fight, we will make Pharania fight for them,” General Kalil responded.
I liked the idea, but there remained the fact that we would still be flanked from the north and south at Naqom deserts.
When I asked the generals about that, they started explaining their plan, and the more they explained, the more my admiration for their expertise grew.
102
“Why did the generals summon you to the command tent?” Salamio asked.
“Are you trying to convince me that you don’t know?”
He seemed nervous as he spoke, he said, “What did they order you to do?”
I didn’t answer, so he continued, “Whatever it is that they asked you to do, know that you have the right to refuse if you felt it in your heart that it couldn’t be accomplished.”
“So you do know what they summoned me for,”
I responded angrily.
He raised his hands in tiredness saying, “From the information we received, and what’s going on amidst the other legions, obviously, they are placing an insane plan.”
“You can’t help it, can you?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You can’t stop thinking like a spy,” I replied.
“You can’t forget how to use the sword, can you?
Having an eye on what’s going on around me, and analysing every detail is my sword. You should deal with that normally.”
His answer was eloquent and logical as usual, so I said,
“They want me to lead a combined force of five thousand swordsmen…”
“Good, they shall give you more men,” he interrupted in excitement.
“Against a ten times bigger force,” I continued.
Salamio hushed for a while then asked, “What was your answer?”
“They gave me a chance to think about what they said, and give them my response tomorrow morning.”
We both hushed trying to think of our chances to survive this battle. After a while, I asked Salamio, “What do you think, should I accept this insane mission and lead the men into this unbalanced battle?”
He shook his head saying, “You must decide this yourself, my friend. This is your burden. All I can say is whether you accept, or suggest a different plan, you will find me beside you, even if it meant my own doom.”
“What about the men, do you think they will follow us?
The risks are much bigger than ever before,” I said urging him to think things over.
He smiled and replied, “That’s normal. The bigger the risks, the bigger the gain.”
“And the bigger the loss as well,” I said, but he seemed to hate that. After a quiet moment, I continued, “I’m afraid that if I accept this mission, neither I, nor most of the men who’d follow me shall see home again. Meanwhile, if I refuse, our options won’t be as equally good.”
He looked me in the eyes and said, “Who are you trying to deceive here: me or yourself? You have already decided to accept the mission.”
My friend was right. I wanted to accept this mission, but I had to think of the men I was going to lead; their safety was my responsibility. I looked around searching for Amr and Marwan. When I was unable to spot them, I asked Salamio, and he told me that they were trying to fetch us some dinner. When they arrived, I briefed them about the situation at hand and asked for their opinions.
Amr said, “ ‘Many outnumbered groups, by Alaha’s will, have prevailed against larger groups. Alaha is indeed with those who remain steadfast.’ With well-placed plans and sincere men, numbers could be overcome.”
Marwan seemed worried, so I asked him about his opinion. He nodded saying, “I hope Orabio was here now.”
Salamio stopped chewing the morsel in his mouth, and Amr stared at Marwan blaming him for saying that. The young man continued in embarrassment, “He was the wisest among you. He always tried to hold you back from dangerous plans, and talk some sense into your heads.”
“So you think he would have urged us to refuse this mission?” I asked calmly.
Marwan nodded saying, “Yes, he would’ve tried to do that.”
Salamio got up and said nervously, “Who are you to think you knew him better than we did?”
Marwan frowned and objected, “I never said that, I only spoke my heart. You two could be his lifetime friends, but for a while, I was his friend too… and his student. If I knew him at all, I would say that he was always trying to protect you from all dangers, even from yourselves. Nonetheless, whenever danger became imminent, he was the first to jump in, and defend you all.” He hushed for a moment trying to control his emotions, and then continued, “His presence always made me feel safer.”
Amr’s face reddened. Salamio tried desperately to prevent his tears from spurting out of his eyes. Marwan’s words were most truthful, and we knew it. I guess our grief was more for ourselves than for Orabio. He earned his martyrdom and won an eternal abode among the brave and the pious, while we were the ones who lost the privilege of his companionship. We were the ones left behind.
The four of us sat silently pondering over our situation without uttering one word. While we sat there, General Hodrog approached, and beside him walked a man we knew. Zein was in horrible shape, and exhaustion appeared horribly on his face as he staggered towards us. We got up and hurried to receive him. A couple of steps away, he collapsed down on his knees and broke out in tears.
The view of that took my heart away.
We kneeled around him and tried to calm him down.
“Zein, what’s wrong, brother?” Salamio asked, but Zein didn’t respond.
“In Alaha’s name, Zein, tell us what happened,” I added nervously.
He raised his face in shame barely able to speak and said,
“Sasan’s men… they executed Lady Ramla.”
103
Dead silence is all I can remember. Extending dark shadows surrounded me, and a fire—unlike any other—
filled my heart and soul.
General Hodrog and the men standing nearby were looking at my comrades and me pitifully.
I struggled against an overwhelming desire to shut up for good, and asked, “What about the children and Fatamia?”
Zein raised his head and responded with difficulty,
“No one knows. We searched everywhere. Our eyes all over Misrost are still looking for them. There is no trace for them whatsoever.”
I grabbed him by his shoulders and asked, “Did Sasan’s men arrest them?”
“No, they are searching for them too,” he replied.
“How do you know that?”
“They are leading a torture campaign against the families of the resistance men, and asking about them everywhere. Sasan has sworn to destroy the lineage of Al-Misrosty’s family. He’s sparing no effort to achieve this aim.”
“Where were you when this happened?” I asked.
He looked at me with weary eyes and said, “A lot is going on in Misrost, much more than you know here.”
“Tell us everything, Zein… everything,” Salamio said.
The man wiped his tears and started to speak. “After the news about Jar-Shamir battle started spreading among Misrostians and many men left to join the resistance here in Shamalia, Sasan declared those who left traitors.
He ordered his men to stop this at any price. Vast arresting campaigns were led. Hundreds of families were held in prison until their men return and surrender themselves to
the authorities. When many men returned and found their families in prison, they organised attacks on the soldiers’
barracks, and captivated many of Sasan’s high-ranking officers and soldiers. After that, they took shelter amidst the northern mountains. They thought they could bargain for their families’ return. When Sasan received their messenger, he had him executed in front of the city hall.
Then that traitor declared he would execute one complete family every day till his men return safely, and those who left give themselves up. On receiving the news, General Obadiah ordered his men to prepare for a surprise attack on Fastotia. He sent word for the resistance hideouts near Fastotia ordering the men there to join this attack two days from receiving his message…”
Zein held his chest in pain, trying to grasp his breath.
After a moment he continued, “The next day, we received news that Sasan ordered the hanging of one of the families under arrest. When this happened, many men were unable to wait until our forces come together. Consequently, they attacked Fastotia disobeying General Obadiah’s orders.
Sasan’s men killed many of them in the battle. Those who were captivated were given a quick public trial the next morning, and they were declared traitors along with their families. All parents were executed publicly in Fastotia’s main square. Their children were sent to serve Sasan’s men.
This prevented us from attacking the barracks out of fear for the children’s safety. A few days later, Sasan ordered a group of his men to spread all over Fastotia secretly and set fire in the old city at night. When the people woke up on fire eating their homes, soldiers appeared from everywhere and started putting off the fires. They claimed that we did this in revenge for our fallen.”
“And the people believed that?” Salamio asked unable to imagine what Zein was saying.
“The people don’t know what to believe anymore.
All they care about is their safety. The safety which Sasan
has captivated till they submit to his rule,” Zein replied.
He continued with a stressed voice, “When the news of Orabio’s martyrdom reached Lady Ramla, she swore to avenge her husband. For two weeks, she went to the village every day and carried out her investigation. She marked the soldiers who were arresting those doubted to support the resistance, and placed her plan secretly. One night, she got dressed as a man, tied her late brother’s sword around her waist, rode into the village, and attacked those soldiers.
She wounded four of them fatally, before getting wounded herself, but she managed to get away, and returned to the safe house. The next day, captain of the forces operating in the northern villages issued a starvation order. His men prevented all sorts of market transactions until the person who attacked the four soldiers turns himself in. Lady Ramla was bedridden by her wound. Lady Fatamia was intent not to let her know what was happening so that she wouldn’t turn herself in. It was the children’s crying from hunger that made her notice something was wrong. It seems that she heard Master Sennary’s conversation with his wife one night, and was able to deduce the whole matter. She waited till they all slept, and turned herself in without informing anyone that she was going to do that…”
Zein was crying as he continued, “The soldiers pulled her veil off, kept on beating her while they dragged her towards the village’s main square. They hanged her in front of all people after…” He hesitated for a moment.
“Speak Zein, what did they do?” I asked, and I wish I didn’t.
He looked at me unable to utter the words, but I shouted at him to speak, so he said, “After tearing her dress open.”
Hearing this, silence fell upon all listeners. I believe we would have killed ourselves if suicide wasn’t one of the gravest sins, but it was, it still is, and so it shall continue to be.
Zein then continued, “When her absence was noticed, Master Sennary gathered some of the men and hurried to rescue her. When they arrived, the soldiers had already hanged her. On seeing her like that, they attacked the soldiers, and killed many of them. Meanwhile, Lady Fatamia untied the rope, and covered Lady Ramla’s body.
Our men were outnumbered, but they fought till the last one of them. The remaining soldiers were about to attack Lady Fatamia. She was sitting on the ground holding Lady Ramla’s body between her arms. Before they were able to do that, many boys from the village attacked the soldiers with stones and sticks, and their folks joined them.
When the soldiers saw that an uprising was occurring, they escaped and left the village. The people carried Lady Ramla’s body to the closest house. They shrouded her body, and prayed upon her, then buried her in the village’s cemetery.”
With that said, the faces of the listeners reflected the fire blazing within their hearts. I was barely able to control my feelings, yet I asked again, “What happened to Fatamia and the children after that, Zein?”
He looked at me in distress and answered, “Ever since that day, Lady Fatamia disappeared with the children, and no one knows their whereabouts.”
“There is always a price for resisting traitors, but the price of not resisting is worse and much higher,” my uncle told me that once. At that moment, his words echoed inside my mind. I turned towards General Hodrog and said,
“General, I accept the mission.”
104
As strange as it may sound coming from someone like me, that night, I asked Amr to lead the men in prayers.
There wasn’t going to be any sleeping anyway, so I asked him to recite extended portions from the divine revelations.
That night, all men from all legions joined in and prayed with us. We prayed in absentia for Ramla and asked Alaha to let her join Orabio in heaven. Amr was weepy. I heard many men cry affected by his recitation of the holy verses.
I remember some of those verses. I recite them every night in remembrance of all our fallen.
“If you are suffering, then know that your enemies are suffering too. Those are the days, the good, and the bad, We give them to men by turns that We may test the faithful, and take martyrs from among you. Verily, Alaha loves not the evildoers. Think not of those who were martyred as dead. Nay, they are alive rejoicing with their lord’s blessings. They rejoice in a grace unlike any other, and await happily those who haven’t yet joined them, but remained behind. They call from heaven, ‘Have no fear, and do not grieve, verily Alaha waists not the reward of those who remain steadfast.’ ”
“Do not fear the pursuit of the enemy; if you are suffering, then surely, they are suffering too, but you have hope for the reward of the hereafter, and they do not. Alaha is Ever All-Knowing, All-Wise.”
“If there are twenty of you who remain steadfast, they will overcome two hundred, and if there are a hundred of you, they will overcome a thousand of those who defy what’s right, for they are devoid of understanding.”
“Those outnumbered few unto whom the cowardly say,
‘The enemy has gathered a great army against you, so fear them,’ but this only increased their faith, and they responded, ‘Alaha is sufficient for us, He is the disposer of all affairs.’ So they returned with grace from their Lord; verily, Alaha is the munificent giver. Satan could only frighten the evil-doers, so fear them not, and follow my righteous path.”
We prayed that night almost until dawn. We prayed until exhaustion forced us to sleep the short time remaining before sunrise. Amazingly, I dreamed of my parents,
my uncle and his wife, Orabio and Ramla, even Johan was playing amidst them. They were all happy, happier than I can ever remember, but they were unable to sense my presence. When I turned to leave, I saw Fatamia and the children in a place that seemed familiar, but I was unable to tell where that was. I called Fatamia’s name, but she didn’t hear my voice. I called and called but to no avail. Then a voice responded, “They are under my care now. Attend to your duty and look after those under yours. I waste not those who seek my refuge.”
I woke up before sunrise. Many of the men were still asleep. I walked over to the training field, and there I saw two young men training alone. They were imitating some of my moves. I was grateful to see them training by themselves. This was what I wanted them to do.
I approached them and said, “Good morning, lads. Allow me to show you the easiest way of doing this.”
One of them stretched his arms with the two swords he was holding. I grabbed them, started explaining how the move was best done, and resumed my duty.
105
Ten days later, we received news that the Nastorian reinforcements coming through the northern sea had landed on Falastia’s shores. Twenty thousand soldiers was their estimated number. Meanwhile, another force landed on the eastern coast of Qalzam sea as expected. On receiving the news, our army started moving towards Naqom deserts.
Our scouts confirmed that over fifteen thousand Nastorians were marching through Jar-Shamir. When the leaders of these forces learned that we were racing towards Southern Falastia, they took the bait, and changed their direction towards the south-west, trying to flank us from the south.
Their primary concern was to prevent us from escaping into Pharania. This force was divided into three legions.
They were moving in separate formations, each having its own commander. The biggest legion was the Misrostian one. It was moving amidst the other two forces, while the Magharbians took the lead. When I learned that, I said to myself, Cowards always hide amidst others even if they were stronger. I saw this information as glad tidings, and I became sure that these forces would break and scatter under pressure.
After two more days, the Nastorian southern forces were approaching the south entrance of Naqom deserts. The Nastorians residing in Falastia joined forces with the Northern reinforcements. They exited the city and started moving towards the same region from the north. The estimated number of the northern forces was thirty thousand soldiers. All the Nastorian reinforcements came by sea; as such, they were foot soldiers. The only rides they brought along were for their leaders and high-ranking officers.
Hence, the only cavalry force they had was that residing in Falastia. Based on our numbers, it was more than enough.
The Nastorian force residing in Falastia alone was estimated to be twenty thousand men. Half of them were riders.
On the other hand, our forces witnessed a lot of change.
The Misrostian force decreased, while the Magharbian and Shamalian forces increased in number. The Afraconians received a small number of volunteers. The total number of men in our army was fifteen thousand. One third were operating under my direct command. We unified our banners and uniform. The bright green colour shone amidst Naqom deserts. The Shamalians were the ones to make that happen. When the uniform and banners were brought in by the people of Shamalia, General Hodrog told me, “That was your king’s dream, and so was it your father’s dream. You helped make it come true. Be proud of that.”
Salamio held one of the banners tightly, filled his chest with its scent, and then said, “May the traitors realise their mistake, and may it be the last thing they ever realise.”
“Soon,” I responded, “soon with Alaha’s will.”
There we stood on the battle day a real army. I organised my men in ranks facing the Nastorian forces approaching from the south, while General Hodrog and General Idris led two forces comprising about eight thousand men, facing the Nastorian forces approaching from the north. Naqom desert is like an inverted triangle. Mountains surround it from both sides. Its south entrance was narrow, and as you move northwards, it gets wider. The generals’ forces had a typical formation for blocking attacks: spearmen in the front lines, archers in the rear, and swordsmen in the middle. My force only comprised swordsmen, but not ordinary swordsmen.
Salamio was at my right side, Amr at my left, and Marwan was next to Amr. The front lines of my force comprised the remaining numbers of the Misrostian legion. Behind them stood the elite swordsmen from the other legions equipped with swords and light shields. The sound of drums was the first indication of the enemy’s arrival. As the Nastorian forces started to appear on the horizon, I marched a few steps forward, and shouted, “Brothers in arms. Training with you the past weeks has been one of my life’s greatest joys. What I have learned from you during those weeks surpassed what I have learned throughout my life so far. I have seen ordinary men sacrificing everything to make victorious what’s right. I have seen ordinary men turn into magnificent warriors. Now is the moment when we show our enemies who we are. Now is the moment when our faith shall be tested to the maximum limit. We will never know whether we shall get another chance to make victorious what’s right after this or not. It might be our generation’s destiny not to grow old. Nonetheless, know by heart that it’s a bliss to die young for a righteous cause than to live and see what’s right being stepped upon by the feet of traitors.
No matter what, remain steadfast, and fight as you have never fought before. No man can evade his destiny; all a man can do is make victorious what’s right. Then, whatever happens is up to Alaha alone.”
The men hailed in approval, so I pulled out my swords, and continued, “It’s my life’s greatest honour to stand here amidst you all today. I hope the Nastorians have brought their best. The army I see standing in front of me is surely an invincible one.”
With that said, the men pulled out their swords assuming standby position, and their eyes shined with heartiness.
No words can describe the calmness and serenity I felt on that day. I knew that no matter what happens after that, our cause would be victorious. It was as if I could see victory with my own eyes, and amazingly, I was not afraid, not even a bit.
The Nastorians blew their horns, and the first wave of their southern forces attacked. Their front line comprised spearmen. Behind them followed swordsmen at a distance.
It was an attack force prepared for one purpose: breaking our lines and allowing the vast numbers of their swordsmen to end our presence from existence. The spearmen were increasing their speed as they advanced. About three hundred feet away, I raised my arm with one sword and shouted, “Attack.” I led my men towards the Nastorian forces. Less than thirty feet away, I signaled my men. In a sudden move, they pulled ropes connected to bundles of stakes we had hidden beneath the sands at staggered locations. When the pointed tips were raised towards the advancing Nastorians, they were shocked. That was enough to break their advancement. Within a glance, our lines were ascending the stakes, and jumping above the spearmen.
Thereupon, we charged the swordsmen without looking back. Truthful was the one who said, “War is a trick.”
On seeing what had happened, fear showed on the Nastorians’ faces. We flipped their condition over its head.
Instead of being the attackers, they found themselves under heavy attack. Then the most magnificent battle I have ever witnessed in my whole life began. My men were advancing in all directions. Every group was like an entire army.
The front lines in every group were the men I trained myself. They were followed by men from the other legions.
I told the Misrostians that their main task was to break through the enemy’s lines neutralising as much Nastorians as they can till they reach the other side. Meanwhile, their comrades’ task was to protect their backs and engage with those the frontlines skip. Within no time, we pervaded and scotched the Nastorians’ attack. That was when their horns were blown a second time. I ordered the men to reform their lines, and they complied immediately. The second wave of the Nastorians’ attack comprised all of their remaining southern forces. That’s what appeared to us at first, but then...
“Why won’t they attack?” Salamio asked me nervously.
“Soon we will find out,” I replied.
“If we don’t end this quick, our mission shall fail.
Shouldn’t we attack?” he asked again.
“No, we’ll wait,” I responded.
Suddenly appeared camels advancing fast from between the Nastorians’ lines. They had a surprise for us too.
I ordered my men to retreat behind the wooden stakes.
They split into lines and retreated hurriedly.
“These stakes were not prepared to stop camels.
The most they will do is slow down the attack. If we don’t stop them, they will penetrate our lines, and attack our forces facing the north from behind,” Amr said.
I looked around nervously then shouted, “The front two lines, to spears immediately.”
I placed my swords back into their scabbards and ran forward towards the nearest spear lying on the ground, and the men did the same. We returned to our locations, and prepared to stop the camel riders.
“Attack the man above the camel, not the camel itself,”
I shouted.
Suddenly one of our back lines advanced, and their Magharbian leader said, “We shall kneel down behind the stakes and hold our shields. When they slow down to pass the stakes, run forward and use our shields as a prop to jump higher and nail their riders. After that, we shall follow in with our swords, and so shall the remaining men.”
It was a brilliant, brave idea. Dangerous, but brilliant.
“Let’s do it, brother,” I said to the heroic leader.
“Kneel behind the stakes, and hold your shields for your brothers,” the man shouted.
When the camel riders slowed down at the wooden stakes, I shouted at my comrades, “Now.”
The front two lines ran forward and took the shields held by their fellow Magharbians as leverage. We jumped up close to the level of the camel riders and pierced them with the spears. When we landed, we immediately pulled out our swords, charged the remaining riders, and started our counter-attack. I was overwhelmed by what the men around me were doing. I always thought I was brave, but on that day, I learned a new meaning for bravery. I saw young men kneeling down for their comrades to give them a chance use their backs as leverages, and nail the remaining camel riders. I saw swordsmen attacking spearmen on camel backs without any fear. The only fear I saw that day was in the eyes of the Nastorians.
When the camel riders’ attack was defeated, I shouted at the men, “Finish them off,” and we charged the Remaining Nastorian swordsmen advancing towards us.
The persistence of the men was doubled in the second attack. Their skill and speed were enhanced by self-confidence. Although the force we were charging was double ours, I was sure we would be able to defeat them.
The men’s swords were shining everywhere, like the water’s surface sparkle in sun’s light. Their arms were
moving fast, blocking and striking synonymously in perfect harmony. Their moves were masterful. Seeing this, the men from the other legions unleashed the fearless warriors inside their souls. They fought as if they had a death wish. There was no chance for the Nastorians to prevail whatsoever.
They had been defeated the moment we decided to stay in Shamalia and train day and night. The liberation of our countries started when we liberated our spirits from all fears, even the fear for our own families. All for one single purpose, to make victorious what’s right and worthy.
On the other hand, our legions facing north were under heavy attack from the Nastorians’ main force. Our plan from the beginning was to strike out the forces trying to flank us from the south, and then join forces with the other two legions in their battle against the forty thousand Nastorians attacking from the north. In order to stand a chance against the larger forces until we succeed in our mission, the generals ordered their men to dig a trench between their location, and the north. They filled it with dead leaves and bushes. It took them several days to accomplish this secret mission. They finished it on the day we arrived. General Hodrog ordered some of the men to prepare torches, and when they see the Nastorian cavalry advancing, they light the trench. This forced the cavalry cluster towards a narrow path left on purpose in the middle.
The generals’ main target was to decrease the numbers of cavalry attacking our forces at once. Of course, this trench wasn’t going to remain on fire for a long time, but it would suffice until we all join forces, then continue our plan.
When the fire started going out, the remaining Nastorian cavalry started advancing from a wider front. It was then that General Kalil attacked with two thousand horsemen from the east. General Kalil stayed back with this force awaiting the right moment to attack the cavalry from a different direction as planned. While this occurred, my legion was still engaging the Nastorian southern forces.
When we were triumphant, I ordered the men to reform their lines, and prepare to join the bigger battle. It was then when I saw a man I know very well lying on the ground amidst the injured and the dead. I ran towards him and checked his wound, but he said, “No need, lad. I’m a healer, remember!”
I faked a smile trying to ease his pain, and he said,
“Qotazio, I knew who you were from the beginning.”
I looked at him unable to understand, so he said,
“Do you know why I came here?”
“Yes, my friend, you told me, remember!” I replied.
“I lied,” he said, “I came here to kill you.”
I thought he was hallucinating, but he continued,
“After Sasan’s men found me, they arrested my family.
They tortured us for information thinking that we helped you in what you did back at Fastotia. They killed my children, then my wife, and left me alive to suffer. Sasan told me that you were the one responsible for their death.
For days I planned to kill you, but when I heard your words and saw your suffering with my eyes, I believed that Sasan was the one who must die along with all traitors…”
He coughed blood as he spoke. I tried to make him stop, but he grabbed my hand and continued, “I watched you cry that night for your cousin. I knew you were suffering like me…”
He coughed again and squeezed my hand tighter saying,
“I see them, Qotazio… I see them. They are waving their hands and calling upon me to join them.”
He then smiled and said, “Oh… that’s beautiful,” and his grip loosened.
I wiped away a tear that escaped my eye, bent down, and kissed the man’s forehead. I grabbed his swords and said, “Rejoice with your Lord’s bounty my friend.
We shall continue your strife.”
I got up. My friends were standing behind me with dull, gloomy faces. Marwan’s tears were falling silently.
“It’s time to end this, my friends. Let’s go,” I said with a wild desire to attack the Nastorians with no further delay.
When the men saw our faces, they understood that the man lying dead was a close friend. This made them feel like we did. I pointed towards our remaining forces and said,
“We have lost many of our brothers, but we still have more brothers fighting over there. They are outnumbered, and they need our help. I won’t order you to follow me on the next attack. That is something you have to do by choice.
I will wade into this Nastorian death trap, and fight till we achieve victory, or I inhale my last breath and join our fallen if Alaha found me worthy.”
I wiped my eyes before any tears fell out then continued,
“There will be no shame if you won’t follow me in this suicide attack. You can join our remaining forces and fight by their side. As for me, I already know what I want to do.
I shall advance, and I won’t look back again till this is over.”
I tried to smile and said with a shaky voice, “Brothers, it has been my life’s greatest honour to fight by your side.”
Without adding one more word, I turned around, and advanced at full speed not knowing how many men were following me. When I approached, the two generals shouted, “Make way… make way,” and their forces opened a wide space in between. It was then that I realised what the men have chosen, and this increased the strength in my heart. The Nastorian cavalry had already split themselves into two forces fighting on two fronts. I led my men through the gap amidst them and continued to advance towards the thirty thousand swordsmen waiting to attack. When they saw us charging them, their facial expressions signified disbelief. Noticing this, I let out a battle cry that took away the soldiers’ hearts. Then my men’s cries thundered through Naqom deserts and echoed through the surrounding mountains.
The battle was fierce to the furthest extent. I advanced with my men through the Nastorian lines. We were trying to reach as deep as possible into their midst. Following the same tactic, we pervaded their lines by advancing in all directions with organised groups. We knew that if we attacked as a single force, the casualties on our side would decrease, but our enemy’s would decrease even more.
Splitting the Nastorians into separate forces and relying on our sword skills was our only chance to win. We were outnumbered by over six to one, and our comrades thwarting the Nastorian cavalry were losing many men.
Their situation was already critical. Many of my men were falling, and entire groups were martyred. I received many flesh wounds myself, and my old wound was already on fire. Salamio received a hard stab in his right side and fell on one knee momentarily, but he got up and continued to fight. The Nastorians sounded their horn from behind.
I looked and saw their cavalry uniting their forces against the remnants of our legions. I understood that General Kalil and his men were martyred. At that moment, I lost all hope to win that battle, and all I had left was my anger. I checked on Salamio and saw he was barely able to hold on. He was fighting with one sword. His left arm was severely wounded. I rushed towards him, but I received a stab in my right shoulder, then another in my left thigh. I struck one of the men who stabbed me, then blocked a strike from the other and returned the favour. I stabbed another two men with both swords at once, and pushed them in front of me.
When I reached Salamio, I pulled my swords out and struck the two men down. I jumped beside my friend before some soldiers attacked him and thwarted their attack.
“No…” I heard Salamio shouting.
When I turned, I saw him blocking a strike that was about to land on my neck from behind, but another soldier stabbed him through the heart. You never believe it at once when you see a person so dear to your heart die in front of
your eyes. I attacked those soldiers and killed them both.
Then Amr and Marwan appeared from nowhere and started fighting the remaining soldiers back. I turned and kneeled beside Salamio’s body. When I held him, he was already gone, and so was another part of my heart and soul. I closed his eyes, got up, threw down my helmet, struck my cloak and body armour down, and then started advancing alone, striking to kill instantly.
When Amr and Marwan saw that, they did the same and followed me. Then so did the remaining men in my force.
We were advancing faster than the wind. How many men I killed on that day is something I never want to know.
Our enemies left us no other way to protect those who were innocent. I fought until my strength was all drained out, and I was unable to stand anymore. The few hundreds remaining from my men gathered around me fighting the Nastorians back. I was semi-conscious at that moment.
I heard the sounds of drums and horns, but I was unable to understand what was happening. Then I saw the Nastorian soldiers retreating in fear. They were running around in all directions like lunatics. At that point, I thought I was hallucinating.
“Pharanians are here… Pharanians have come.”
Amr kneeled beside me and said, “The Pharanians have come with huge forces. They have destroyed the Nastorians’ army. We won. We have victory.”
“Bury me beside Salamio and the rest of my men,” I told Amr then I lost consciousness.
106
Beautiful long trees and a small wooden house. A forest echoing with laughter, singing, and playing. Stories about huge imaginary ships and endless sea adventures. A bright orange sun, a laughing moon, and the silver stars around it.
A dreamy beautiful nature and a bunch of kids playing in its vicinity. Living the best times of our lives, enjoying that small piece of heaven amidst earth. Chasing after one another like birds. From beyond the winding stream, we appeared, and into the green fields, we disappeared.
Young and pure, wild and stubborn, having no fear from what the days might bring. The same old view, the same old smell. The light from beyond the hills was mysterious and fearful, but still, beautiful and attractive. We always felt that reaching it would set our spirits free. Every detail, every moment, every smile, every story, every song, and every game I once shared with my friends visited my dreams.
When I woke up, I was lying inside a room. I passed my hands over my body; my wounds were stitched and bandaged; some of them were cauterized. My body was a mess. A hand touched my right shoulder. I tilted my head and saw Esmel Hashm smiling.
“Welcome back, my friend,” he said.
Amr, Marwan, and some of the young men I trained were all inside the big room. I looked at them unable to understand what happened. Amr wiped over my head and said, “King Esmel treated your wounds himself. He never left your side the past three days.”
I looked at the man in a blaming manner, so he said,
“I had to make sure that the Nastorians will never raise an army again. I needed to flank them as they did to you.
Half my forces had to travel for days until they reached northern Falastia from the Shamalian side. They engaged the legion guarding the shores and destroyed the Nastorian fleet. The other half remained under my command.
We attacked the legion guarding the Nastorian ships at Qalzam shores and destroyed the other half of their fleet.
After that, we had to wait for our northern forces to attack before we do. Otherwise, the Nastorian cavalry would have retreated towards you and your men, and destroy your force within moments.”
“But why didn’t you join forces with us from the beginning? We could have placed a better plan and saved more lives,” I asked in denial.
“My men and I were watched, Qotazio. More than four attempts to kill me occurred after your visit. It seems that you and your comrades were watched, and the Nastorian scouts heard you identify me as Esmel Hashm. This complicated things. I had to place a tricky plan that could convince the Nastorians we were not going to join the battle of Falastia. That was the only way to make them neglect us, and neglect the Pharanian front as a whole,” he responded calmly. After a silent moment, he added, “Besides, you had your orders, and I had mine.” He said that and raised a letter in front of me holding my uncle’s signature and seal, it said, Dear Esmel,
When the time comes, you and your men must destroy the Nastorian fleet in both, Northern and Qalzam seas.
You must not draw any attention or join the battle before that. The Nastorians already think you won’t, and they must continue to do so.
Nooraddeen Al-Misrosty.
I looked at the man and said, “If I may ask, sir, how did my uncle know your true identity when no one else did.
How did this message reach you?”
“Your uncle knew my true identity because I was the one to contact him first many years ago. Ever since that time, our correspondence was always carried by the same man.”
He pointed towards the other corner of the room and continued, “Zein, your uncle’s assistant.”
I was shocked to know all that. I said, “Now I understand. Thank you, sir.”
He shook his head and said, “No my friend… thank you.
If it weren’t for you, Shamalia wouldn’t have been freed…”
“Shamalia was freed by those who gave their lives for its freedom, sir, not me.”
I saw tears in his eyes. He patted my shoulder and said,
“I will leave you to rest now.”
He looked at Amr and said, “Make him eat something.”
“We will, sir,” Amr replied.
After he left, I asked Amr, “Salamio, did you…”
“Yes. We buried him on the same day along with the other martyrs in Naqom deserts. The place is one mile away from Falastia’s southern gates.”
I was unable to hold my tears when he said that. He tried to calm me down, but I hated the fact that I still lived. For a few days, depression ate my soul, until one night, I dreamed of Fatamia. She was reaching out to me, and repeatedly pleaded, “Come home.”
The next morning, I got out of bed, barely able to bear my pains. I put on the clean outfit placed by my bed and walked out of the room. Amr and Marwan were resting beside the door. When they saw me, they got up and said,
“What are you doing out of bed? Your wounds need time to heal.” They tried to make me return to bed, but I said,
“Take me to Esmel Hashm.”
“Rest and we will bring him to you.”
“No, I must go to him.”
When I entered the man’s room, he was standing in front of a big map for the Northern Sea and pondering over it.
When he saw me, he approached hurriedly and helped me sit down. “Why are you out of bed?” he asked.
I answered him, and after a long private conversation, he agreed to let me return home.
“Amr, Marwan, and Zein shall accompany me as agreed,” I said.
He nodded and replied, “You can take the men you want with you, my friend. If you wish, I will gladly accompany you myself, that would be an honour.”
“Thank you, sir.”
When I turned to leave, he called my name, so I looked back. He said, “I have lived in the holy lands all my life, Qotazio. Never did I meet anyone like you. Rest assured that Alaha won’t waste your beloved ones.”
I nodded in respect and closed the door.
107
Shamalia was freed, but at what cost. We lost all of our army generals and more than two-thirds of our forces.
The only regional resistance leader remaining was Esmel Hashm. I felt it in my heart that he was a good man. I saw it in his eyes. Could he continue our strife alone? Could he finish off the remaining Nastorians scattered in the region?
Could he face the Romestians when the time comes? I know this won’t happen overnight. We succeeded in destroying the Nastorian fleet. This means that the Romestians will think a thousand times before they wage into a direct open war against the region. Still, they won’t allow the people of the region to enjoy this victory for long. Soon they will return, but this time it won’t be through the Nastorians who have been defeated more than once. The Romestians won’t see them a match for the resistance men anymore. I guess the Romestians will soon try to buy new allies… probably army officers thirsty for power, such as Sasan and his likes.
This is going to happen, but a confrontation of this magnitude will take years of preparation and collecting information. Therefore, we must prepare too. If we don’t, our region with all its countries shall be lost forever.
Before I left Falastia, I visited the graves of our martyrs at Naqom deserts. They were facing the city gates like guardians, and so shall the souls of their inhabitants remain forever. Amr showed me Salamio’s grave. I stood there for as long as I could, and then bade my friend farewell till we meet again. As we walked away, we passed by three graves in front of which our banner was raised. They were the three generals who carried the legacy of their predecessors.
Never did any of them waver, or deviate from that path.
I sailed with my comrades back to Ar-Rashedeen.
When we entered the small village, people seemed happier than they usually do. There were no soldiers, Sasan’s officers had withdrawn their men towards the barracks, and news that Sasan escaped to Romestia was spreading among the people. We went to Master Sennary’s cottage and knocked on the door. After a long period, his old wife opened. When she saw me, she burst into tears. I extended my sympathy to her and praised her late husband saying,
“You should be grateful that Alaha chose him to join the pious and martyrs at a better place… a much better place.
This life, no matter how long it may be, is short. Soon we will be with him, but we must show patience and remain steadfast.”
The old woman wiped her tears and said, “He really did what he could to save the children’s mother…”
“I know everything Ma’am,” I interrupted, “I’m here to ask you whether you know anything that may help us find the children and their aunt.”
She looked at us sorrowfully, so I understood. I then said, “Can you tell us where Ramla was buried, Ma’am?”
She nodded saying, “Come with me, I’ll show you.”
She locked the door and led the way.
When we reached Ramla’s grave, Lady Rashida was there sitting beside the tomb. I approached, and put my palm on her shoulder gently. She turned looking at me with
red eyes, then got up, stared at my face, and said, “You have finished your missions successfully.”
What success? I thought without speaking. The pain I felt was ineffable. I was barely able to stand the fire in my heart as I stood in front of Ramla’s grave. I was unable to imagine the children’s loss. The boys who had lost the parents any child could ever dream to have. My body pains were aching, but the one that was unbearable was that in my heart. It was the first time for me to feel such pain, but I hoped it would bring me closer to my beloved ones.
She leaned forward, grabbed me by my garment, and said, “I still have one more mission for you.”
I nodded and said, “Anything Ma’am.”
“Make sure that my grandchildren are safe. Make sure they grow up to become strong men and continue their parents’ strife.”
“I promise I will Ma’am,” I responded.
She shook her head silently and left.
I stood at Ramla’s grave for a moment, then turned towards my comrades and said to Amr and Marwan,
“My friends, I need to ask you for something that no one else can do.”
They expressed their acceptance to do anything, but I stopped them and continued, “This won’t be easy. If it were, I wouldn’t be asking you to do it. You must know that it could mean the destruction of your dreams and hopes for a normal life.”
“Our lives seized to be normal a long time ago. There is nothing to be lost here,” Amr replied.
I looked at Marwan. He said, “You know me, I know nothing but what we have been doing the past months.”
I nodded in understanding and said, “I want you to start roaming about all over Misrost and gather true men.
I want you to train them yourselves. Make sure they reach the apex of skill and speed before the next battle comes.”
They exchanged a look signifying worry and lack of understanding, so I continued, “I must leave you here, my friends.”
“What! No, we will come with you, and after we find the children, we will train the men together…” Marwan shouted, but I held his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, Marwan, but I must attend to this mission alone.”
“No, I won’t allow you to do this…”
“Let him be, lad,” Amr interrupted.
Marwan looked at him in shock. At his age, he was unable to understand this, but Amr did. The tears shining in his eyes said it all. Marwan took a side, sat on the ground, and held his head between his palms.
I patted Amr’s shoulder and said, “Till we meet again, brother.”
He tried to smile and said, “Till we meet again with Alaha’s will.”
“Take care of Marwan.”
“I will,” he replied.
I walked over to where Marwan sat wiping his tears in anger. I sat beside him and said, “Are you a warrior or a boy?”
He didn’t respond, and tears escaped his eyes.
I took him in my arms saying, “I promise you that we will meet again. Just take care of yourself and don’t leave Amr’s side. Do you understand, lad?”
He was unable to respond choking with his tears.
I patted his shoulder one last time and got up. I looked at Amr. He nodded silently, and I responded similarly.
Then, I walked away with Zein forcing myself not to look back.
“Till we meet again sons of Misrost,” I whispered wiping away a hot tear.
108
We entered Fastotia the next day at night. We used the secret underground passage amidst the western forest.
“Take me to the safe house we stayed in during our last operation here, Zein,” I said.
The loyal man didn’t utter a word. He just led the way with tearful eyes. The last time he was leading five men, but now he was only leading one. When we reached the room, everything was still in place as if we never left. Even Shamum’s fake nose was still in the position I put it when I took it off. Master Emodeen’s potions were still where Salamio left them. Orabio’s clothes as Farcen, the Romestian from Nomanota, were lying on the straw mat where he slept. I collapsed on the ground crying, unable to control myself anymore. Zein approached and sat beside me without uttering a word. He patted my back and wiped his tears silently.
Before sunrise, I was following the same escape route I took with my family when we escaped Fastotia. This time, I wasn’t escaping, I was going back home.
“Meet me at my parents’ house three months from now, Zein. It’s highly important that you don’t miss that date or tell anyone about it,” I said to the man before I left.
When I reached the tunnel leading into the family’s cemetery, I saw some fading light shining at the end, and I knew I was on the right tracks. I entered the underground space where Salamio hid after Sasan’s men arrested me at the beginning of the events. Fatamia was standing there, raising a sword towards me, and guarding the children with her body. When my face came into the light, she quivered stepping back. The sword fell from her grip on the ground.
She pulled the children in her hands and ran towards me.
I kneeled in front of my nephews and hugged them tightly.
I was hugging my lifetime friend in them. After a moment, I got up and took my wife into my arms. The children
grabbed hold to our legs happily, and then Salamio asked,
“Can we go home now, uncle?”
I squatted in front of the boys and said, “Soon we will, but for now, we have to stay here just a little while longer.”
“Will our parents be there?” Qotazio asked.
I wiped over his head and said, “They are waiting for you at a much better place, lad. Your parents are the guests of Alaha now. You will see them again one day, after many years from now.”
“Why won’t Alaha accept us as guests too? Does he hate us?”
“Oh no, no, he doesn’t hate you. He just wants you to grow up, become strong men, and accomplish wonderful things before he invites you to join your parents and ancestors.”
Fatamia was crying as I answered the children’s questions. When Qotazio noticed, he bent down on my ear and said, “Why is aunt Fatamia always crying, uncle?
She wasn’t like this before.”
I kissed the boy’s forehead and said in a loud voice,
“From now on, she won’t cry again. She has a lot of work to do, and we have no time.”
Fatamia wiped her tears and looked at me wondering what I meant, so I continued smiling, “She has two wonderful young nephews to educate, and raise. And I’m sure you won’t make it easy for her, will you, lads?”
The children smiled shaking their heads in a naughty manner.
I laughed at their expression and hugged them saying,
“These are my boys.”
“Children, you have been playing all night. Time to sleep now,” Fatamia said.
The boys bade me good night then lied down on the small mat placed on the ground. Fatamia covered them both and sat beside them until they slept, then she came and sat beside me.
“Have you been hiding here all that time?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How did you sustain yourselves?”
“At night, I take the children out to play, while I gather enough food from the surrounding fields, and fill the waterskin.”
“At night!” I said in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t this frighten the children?”
“At first it did, but then they liked it. They found it more interesting.”
What she said reminded me of my own childhood.
Their father and I did the same thing when we were young.
“Tonight, we will move to my parents’ house. I want the kids to live a normal life… at least for a while,” I said.
She looked at me wondering what I meant, so I continued, “I want their last memory about Misrost to be one of the family houses, not graves.”
“Are we going to leave Misrost?” she asked in denial.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Did we lose our battle against the Nastorians?”
“No, we won.”
“Then why do you want us to leave?”
“We have to leave for a while, and then return.”
I explained to her the situation then said, “I promised Lady Rashida that the children would grow up to become strong men and continue their parents’ strife. Here won’t be safe.”
She nodded in understanding and said, “That’s alright, as long as we remain together.”
I took her in my arms, and we just sat there for a while allowing our hearts to speak. She raised her head off my chest, looked into my eyes, and said, “Qotazio.”
“Yes darling,” I answered passing my fingers through her hair, and caressing her tender cheek.
“If we are moving to the house, then I want to consummate our marriage.”
Her words, as usual, were like a dream.
“Are you sure you want to do that under these circumstances?” I asked.
She shook her head smiling childishly, and replied,
“More than anything.”
“But my body is marred by battle wounds.”
“I don’t care.”
I smiled at her persistence, the quality I have always admired in her the most.
“As you wish your highness. Tonight shall be your wedding.”
I thanked Alaha for granting me this bliss after a long, arduous struggle. A struggle in which I almost lost everything. I thanked him for granting me the ability to find my wife and my beloved nephews. I was grateful for his endowments after what I have lost.
430 THE LOST WAY TO MISROST
PART X
THE LEGACY LIVES ON
109
My name is Fatamia Saifuddeen Al-Kamel. I’m the daughter and rightful heir of late King Saifuddeen of Misrost. I’m the adopted daughter of Nooraddeen Al-Misrosty, the late leader of the Misrostian resistance. I’m the widow of Qotazio Mohab Al-Misrosty, the late leader of the striking swordsmen force in the resistance army, the man commonly known among the people of Misrost and the region as the piercing ray. On his deathbed, my husband asked me to read what he had written, and complete it according to the development of the events.
“This is not a simple record for what I saw happening since my return to Misrost,” he said, “this is the way... the lost way to Misrost. Raise the children on what I have written in there. Let them know who their parents were.
Let them learn how their predecessors preserved their legacy. Teach them to carry it forward and never let it fall at the hands of traitors.”
These were his last words and will, and now I’m writing to fulfil that will. I’m writing to preserve his legacy and that of his friends, comrades, and those who followed their path.
For years, I wondered if I would ever be able to do that…
if I would ever be able to grab the quill, the same quill, and write as he did. From where should I start, had always been an irritating question. After giving it some thinking, I decided to start from where he stopped. Maybe he thought the last few weeks of his life were irrelevant to what happens next. The least I can say is that he was wrong.
The last few weeks of his life shaped the next two decades and the future of the whole region; may cowards never sleep.
On that day, we slept were we sat side by side inside the cemetery’s secret room. When I woke up, I was leaning my head on his chest, and he was holding me in his arms protectively. He was even trying to protect me while he
slept. I didn’t move an inch out of fear that I would wake him. I knew he was tired, but I never imagined how much tired he was, except after I read his record for the events.
I looked at his face. I have always loved his ruddy cheeks, his black handsome beard and mustaches, his dark bushy hair, his softly arched thick brows, his big wide eyes and long eyelashes. I have always loved the fact that his dark brown iris matched mine, and so did his boyish dimples when he smiled. His locks were dangling down towards his smooth cheeks, reaching his earlobes. I still remember how I liked caressing his face, and playing with his locks until he wakes up. That day was the first time for me to do this instead of ringing the bell; and until his departure, I always woke him up the same way. When he was the one to wake me up, he would pass his hand gently on my arm, and kiss my cheek softly several times. This always made me wake up with a smile. Sometimes I dream of him doing that, and it feels so real that I get up looking around, thinking I will find him there, but I never do.
When he woke up, he kissed my forehead, so I said,
“Good morning.”
He smiled with sleepy eyes and replied, “May all mornings be as good as this,” and kissed me again.
“Ready for the big night highness?” he asked teasing me.
I blushed not knowing what to say. He laughed loudly as he always did when his words embarrassed me.
“What did you do to the bold girl who was here yesterday?”
I pushed him and got up, but he held my hand and pulled me back into his arms. He looked into my eyes, rubbed my back, and said, “What a beautiful face that is…”
I looked away pretending to be angry.
“Do you think I don’t know you are pretending?”
he said, “I know you more than you think. I never knew or understood anyone more than you, Fatamia. One day, you will realise that.”
“What makes you think I’m pretending you snob?”
I asked still pretending to be angry.
“Perhaps the fact that you only look away without trying to move or even remove your palms off my chest.”
Shocked by the truthfulness of what he said, I tried to step back, but he held me tight, and continued, “You know me better than all. I never tease but those whom I really love, and you are my most beloved. The day I stop teasing you will be the day I die…”
Startled by his words, I placed my fingers over his lips and said, “May this never happen. Never say that again.”
He kissed my fingers gently and said, “What have I told you! I know you better than you think.”
After a passionate moment, we approached the children and woke them up. They were thrilled that Qotazio was waking them up with me. He played with them while I placed the food and water we had on the ground. Qotazio fed them both with his hand. It had been a while since I had last seen the boys eat with such an appetite. He turned his hand towards my mouth with the third bite every time.
“It’s your turn, won’t you eat?” I asked, but he insisted that we eat first, and he ate nothing but one dried date.
This was his attitude until he passed away. He always fed us first and ate the few bites remaining happily. Once I pretended to have eaten my full, but his face reddened in anger, and he told me never to do that again, signifying that he knew I was pretending.
“I only want you to eat,” I said patting his shoulder.
He looked at me and said, “It’s my duty to take care of you, not the opposite,” and he got up refusing to eat.
I had to swear that I wouldn’t eat unless he fed me with his hand. Only then, he forgave me and forgot my silly trial.
This could sound irrelevant, but it’s not. If you do not know the man, you won’t understand his legacy. Qotazio was a drifter… a stranger to this world. His dreams were so simple and modest. He never wanted big things in this life.
He only appeared when needed the most, accomplished what others thought impossible, and then disappeared again. As painful as this may sound, when he returned, he was everything Misrost needed, but not what it deserved.
That night, he went out for inspection. After a long disturbing while, he returned and led us to his parents’
house. He told me that he had to make sure the place was not watched and that the house was empty. When we entered, the door’s lock was broken, and the place was a mess. He closed the broken door, and I helped him place a heavy cupboard behind it.
“We’re lucky it’s a full moon night. We won’t need to block all windows or light the candles.” He looked at me and continued, “My parents’ room is ready, you go ahead, and I will take care of the boys.”
When I entered the room, it was well organised and neat.
Qotazio had prepared it well. There was water beside the tub at the corner, and there was an old sheet spread on the bed. I opened the closet. It was empty except from one dress that belonged to his late mother. I took it out, got prepared, and then went out of the room. He was standing at the other end of the corridor with the children. He had given the children a bath and dressed them some of his old clothes.
They were of a bigger size, but the children still looked beautiful. He was wearing one of his father’s outfits, the same one I had always kept clean inside the closet. He looked very handsome in it. He walked over to where I was standing, took my hand, and put on my finger a beautiful ring. It was his mother’s ring. I looked at his face in wonder.
“She left it for me… for such a day,” he said raising my hand and kissing it tenderly. We went down to the dining room. There weren’t much on the table, only some fruits, and water. We ate and sat there enjoying the feeling of having a real life. When the children seemed sleepy, we carried them to Qotazio’s old room, tucked them in bed, and sat on the ground recalling our memories of the place
until they fell asleep. We kissed them, went to our room, and against all odds, this was the happiest night in my life.
110
Our life was eccentric to the furthest extent, but when had it ever been any different! During those few weeks, I got the chance to experience something different, something I have always dreamed of having. I had a family of my own. A husband, two beautiful children, and a house.
Everything felt so perfect even though we were all targeted to be killed. At that period, the traitors and their puppets were occupied with their own predicament and their loss.
This granted us some measure of peace.
Every day Qotazio played with the boys and taught them games, which I didn’t quite understand. He was always building mazes with the furniture and holding contests between them. Sometimes it would be hitting a target, other times it would be knocking down an object. When I asked him about that, he said, “Did you think that was a game?
No, my love. That was Algebra and trigonometry.”
He made four wooden swords, and every day he made the boys practise for extended periods. With every new move he taught them, they became more excited and learned faster. They once asked me to play with them, and I accepted. I grabbed one of their swords, pointed it towards Qotazio, and said smiling, “Would you help me teach the boys how real duels are like?”
He got up, grabbed another sword, and we started a swordplay that made the boys radiant. They were both bug-eyed, watching us and cheering for me to block, turn, and strike as he taught them to do. This continued for a while until I had Qotazio cornered, and my stick’s edge was on his neck.
He raised his hands smiling and said, “Touché.”
The children cheered happily, ran over, and hugged me.
He looked at them faking an angry look and said,
“You ungrateful chaps.” The boys just giggled louder expressing their content that I won. He knew how to make those around him happy and satisfied with the least effort, like faking a loss in a swordplay with his wife.
He taught the boys some poetry and verses from the Holy Scripture. Sometimes I felt him get out of bed thinking I was asleep. He would perform ablution and stand praying for long times in the corridor between our room and the children’s room. Though he never knew I did that, but I always sneaked and listened to his recitation. I knew he was in pain, especially when he wept. When I read his memoirs, I understood that the verses reminded him of all those we lost.
I once asked him why he remains wakeful most times.
He said, “Dreams wake me up.”
“What dreams darling?” I asked caressing his face.
He hesitated to answer, then said with a sad smile,
“Do you think I was worthy of their trust?”
“Who do you mean?”
“All of them, your fathers, my family and friends, the men who operated under my command…”
I stopped him saying, “You accomplished what none of them thought could happen. You accomplished your missions successfully.”
“But at what cost?” he said angrily holding his tears.
“At the cost Alaha willed. We do not control our destiny, Qotazio. We can only choose to be righteous as we walk along its path.”
When I said that, he calmed down, kissed my forehead, and hugged me tightly.
I remember that the next day to that incident he started to write his memoirs. He embarked on them every night after we all slept, and attended to his duties towards us when we were awake.
The children became extremely attached to him. They were extremely fond of his games and became eager to learn new things every day. Many times, I saw him speaking with the boys, and they listened attentively, but whenever they saw me approaching, they pretended to be studying. I knew they were hiding something, but I gave them enough space to have their secrets and memories with the closest person they ever had after their father. I knew this would affect their future positively. Days have proven that I was never more correct about anything related to the boys than this.
After a while, I started noticing that Qotazio was losing weight. Besides the body that was all worn out by wounds, he suffered some seizures but irregularly. Sometimes I saw him grabbing his left shoulder, or holding the left side of his chest in pain. When I asked him about that, he said, “Don’t worry, it’s just fatigue,” but I knew he was lying. His heart was getting weaker, and I felt it. The most painful feeling one may experience is to watch a person you love so much in pain, and stand unable to take that pain away. I prayed to Alaha day and night, may he cure Qotazio and give me his sufferings, but my supplications were never accepted.
One night, he returned from his father’s office where he used to write down his memoirs. He hugged me happily and said, “I have finished writing my account of what had happened ever since I returned to Misrost.”
I asked him with a shaky voice, “Why did you write it down in the first place?”
He passed his fingers through my hair and said, “So that they would know.”
“So that who knows, and knows what exactly?” I asked unable to understand, but he didn’t give me an answer.
He just said, “from now on, all my time shall be yours and the kids’.”
I looked into his eyes and said, “You said you knew me best of all, do you think that I don’t know about your pains?”
He flickered, and sorrow filled his eyes, but he controlled his emotions and replied, “No soul knows what it shall earn tomorrow, and no man knows at which land his life would end.”
When he said this, I burst into tears. He hugged me and tried to calm me down.
“Fatamia, listen to me carefully. What I’m going to say now is extremely important. If anything happens to me, I want you to take the children to Pharania. There is a just king there, he is a good man, and he awaits your arrival.
He will take care of you and the children until they grow up and be able to strive as their ancestors had done. I want you to teach them everything you know. I want them to grow up among the most knowledgeable in their generation.
Knowledge is the solution for all problems. I became sure of that during my missions more than any time before.
They must learn different sorts of things, but the thing they must excel in is mastering the art of using swords.
Knowledge without true combat skills stands vulnerable and perishes with time. A war is coming soon, and then, they will be among the generation that will stand defending our region and its inhabitants.”
By the time he finished, my face was drenched with tears, and I was unable to stand anymore. He carried me to bed and hugged me while I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, he was not in bed, I got up, and walked out of the room like a mad woman, but I saw him playing with the children, and they looked happy, happier than ever. I stood there watching them silently. When he noticed me, he smiled widely, and said bowing down, “Good morning your highness.”
The children then approached, bowed in front of me, and repeated the same words imitating him. I couldn’t but laugh when they did that. They grabbed my hands and led me to the dining room. A nice breakfast was waiting. There was bread, fig and grapes, milk and honey, and cheese.
I was unable to believe my eyes. I looked at him and said,
“From where did all this come?”
He smiled and said, “I have been planning this for over a month.” He pulled a chair for me, and I sat down. Then he did the same for the children, and they giggled every time he bowed for them. I watched him as he fed the children and me. He was laughing, joking, and smiling, but I knew it in my heart that this was no more than his way of saying goodbye. I kept this in my heart, laughed and smiled with him, tried to ignore this feeling, but to no avail.
The next few days were filled with games, jokes, and laughter. He spared no effort to see us happy.
This continued until one night, he woke up, got out of bed, and prepared to pray as he always did when his dreams kept him awake. I sneaked behind him and listened to his prayers. When he prostrated, I heard him saying in a gentle weepy voice, “O Alaha, through all of what had happened, you have kept me alive for a purpose only you know. I hope I have fulfilled whatever it is that you wish of me. I beg your pardon for whatever negligence or shortcoming. If my time has come, let me join my companions. O Alaha, take care of my wife and the children, I leave them for your care, you are our sustainer, and you are the disposer of all affairs.”
When I heard that, I knew it was time. I broke down in tears hugging his body after he finished praying. He turned, held my face between his hands, and said, “I dreamed of them Fatamia, all of them. I saw my parents, Uncle Nooraddeen and Aunt Mary, Orabio and Ramla, Salamio and Johan, Shamum and his family… I saw them all.
But unlike the previous times, this night they saw me and replied when I called their names…”
He stopped for a moment pitying my condition, and then continued, “They said, ‘Welcome home Qotazio.’ ”
“No, no, you’re already home. You’re here with me.
Why are you so eager to leave when you have just returned?”
He pulled me into his arms and said, “Oh, Fatamia, please forgive me. I wanted to live with you here more than anything else in this bewildering life, but destiny has other plans for us.”
Both our faces were soaked with tears. He grabbed my head between his palms and continued, “You must be strong now, you must be strong for the children and what’s yet to come. Believe me; nothing of what has happened so far was ever of my choice.”
I was trembling unable to speak, but I managed to ask,
“What shall we do without you?”
He hushed for a moment, and then said with a faint smile, “You will never be without me. I will be with you in every step you take. Rest assured of that.”
111
The next three days, Qotazio stayed in bed. His condition worsened in a sudden quick manner, and his colour turned pale. I tried to feed him as he had always fed us, but he was unable to eat anything except for a few dates, which I had to soften with my teeth so that he can swallow them.
The third day, this deterioration reached its peak.
The children were shocked to see him like this, but he said,
“What have we agreed upon boys? You will take care of your aunt, and give her aid with all your strength. Right?”
They shook their heads in agreement.
“Good boys, very good. Now go and attend to your duties, you have studying to do, don’t you?”
The boys obeyed him and went to their room.
“Has the sun set yet?” he asked me.
“It’s about to, darling,” I replied wiping his sweat.
“Zein shall come any moment at night. When he arrives, bring him to me without any delay,” he said holding my hand firmly, so I nodded in understanding and told him to rest, and I will take care of this.
When Zein arrived like he anticipated, he entered the house from a secret tunnel we knew nothing about. I told him everything, and he followed me to Qotazio’s room hurriedly. When he saw him, he was stunned, and his face turned white. He approached the bed and touched Qotazio’s shoulder gently. Qotazio opened his eyes, when he saw Zein, he tried to smile and said, “Welcome faithful friend,”
then he signalled him to approach, and whispered some sentences in his ear. After he finished, the man held his hand tightly with tears falling down his face. He looked at him silently for a moment, then got up and left. I knew Zein for three decades; never did I see him crying except that once.
After he left, I closed the room’s door and sat beside Qotazio.
He said with a faint voice, “Zein will escort you and the children to Pharania. He will never leave your side.
Uncle Nooraddeen trusted him, and so should you…”
As he spoke, I just nodded not knowing what was going to happen. There was nothing left in me. My heart was aching with intolerable pain. I listened to his words and wills, and then stretched my body at his side and hugged him tightly.
Before sunrise, I felt something. I raised my head and looked at him… that was when I knew he was gone.
I got up pulled the water bucket placed beside the tub closer, tucked up my sleeves, and started the rituals. I cleaned his body, shrouded him with an old sheet, which he asked me to prepare. I didn’t shed one tear as I did that. I checked on the boys; they were sleeping. When I saw them lying in his
bed, I was unable to hold on anymore. It was then that I really realised he was gone. How I stayed alive that night is still something I can’t understand or explain, but as he said, Destiny had other plans for us. I sat there crying until I heard Zein return. I walked over to the room and saw him standing beside the shrouded body. When he noticed me, he said, “My lady, you better bring the children, they should attend their uncle’s burial. Besides, we won’t return here again.”
I grabbed Qotazio’s clothes and swords, and walked over to another room. I got dressed, coiled his turban the way he always did. I went to the children’s room, woke them up, and helped them get dressed. When they asked me why I was wearing their uncle’s clothes, I was unable to respond.
Young Qotazio said to his brother, “Aunt Fatamia shall defend us now like he foretold she would. She needs his magical shield and swords.”
I helped Zein carry my husband into the cemetery.
He had already prepared the grave. We placed Qotazio next to his parents. I brought the children closer and told them to repeat the words I shall say. I took a handful of earth, poured it gently over Qotazio’s face saying, “From dust, you were created.” I held young Qotazio’s hand as he took a handful of earth, and poured it repeating, “To dust, you return.”
Then I held Salamio’s hand, and he did the same repeating with me, “And from it, you shall be resurrected once more.”
After that, I started filling the grave with earth. I was not burying the body; I was burying my heart. The boys helped me like their uncle told them to do. Together we finished the rituals and stood beside the grave for a while. When I turned, Zein was carving something with his knife on the cemetery’s wooden board. The sun was rising already, and its rays were just reaching the board. I looked at what was carved, it said,
THE LEGACY 443
“For those who died so that their people may live, May your souls be resurrected to fight at our side till the end of times.”
Zein then got down. He walked over towards a wagon he had prepared and connected to his horse. He stood there respectfully waiting for me. When I approached, he helped me carry the children and put them in the wagon.
Afterwards he took a knee and looked away, allowing me to step on his thigh and get in myself. He took his place on the driver’s seat and drove away silently.
As we started our journey towards Pharania, I looked back at the cemetery one last time and said,
“Till we meet again, son of Misrost… soon with Alaha’s will… I’m coming.”
End of part one - The Legacy
The Lost Way to Misrost
Ehab Shawky
