"One must never forget that you are not the only one in the world seeking to change things in their favor."
-Unknown-
*Somewhere beyond the North Western border of Ilah*
Fires raged out of control in the village filling the air with a low hanging and dense smoke that made the soldiers cough now and then despite the damp cloths that covered their faces. They were not there to save the village from the fire however, they were the cause of it.
The complete and utter lack of wind to push the smoke away made it hang low in the air, this made it nearly impossible to see what they were doing as they made one last pass through the streets to make certain everything and everyone was either dead or rounded up. One other was somewhere in the burning inferno, their prince.
Prince Halim emerged from the smoke walking leisurely while examining the bonfires that used to be huts or buildings. Soot covered his hardened leather armor and chainmail as well as his helmet, shield and royal trappings. His eyes continued to scan the smoke looking for any movement that was not his own soldiers.
One of the soldiers saw movement and went to shout a warning but was too slow as a terrified local bolted through the smoke having been finally chased out of hiding by either the fires or smoke. Halim heard the hoof-steps first, turning towards them and with a quick flick of the arm slammed them to the ground with his shield and then stared.
It was just another dirty, soot covered peasant that had managed to hide somehow. Staring up at him they began mumbling something quickly but they had already been given their chance before the battle even began: either join his fathers growing nation or die.
They chose to resist and hid behind their flimsy walls which were hardly enough to keep soldiers from just climbing over them. He had ordered that any who fought be killed immediately and the rest rounded up to be sold but this one had continued to hide even after the final call had gone out. Mercy would have been shown to any who came out of hiding and surrendered when the last order was given, they would be sold of course but in his good graces they would be sold as a family.
Halim looked down patiently then shook his head before slamming his hoof into the skull of the Arabian stallion caving in the skull and then stepping over the body he moved towards his waiting soldiers.
As he half listened to the officers report he continued to stare off into the smoke with a bored expression hidden under his helmet. His father was a good leader and general but too old and feeble to command, so now it fell to the crown prince to carry out these duties.
Why not just send one of the generals he had asked a hundred times before, because he needs the experience no matter how great or small was always the response. Besides, with the mercenaries on the loose somewhere out there his presence would prove to them he was not above getting his hands dirty.
Not that he was not anyway but it was just beneath him to bother with each and every little hamlet and village. This was exactly why officers and generals existed, to deal with the petty nonsense that could be taken care of by a mere sergeant.
His father was not immortal though and his time was rapidly running out. It would be a sad day when he died but also a happy one for Halim as he would finally be in a position to bring about his own plans for the nation.
The king had paved the way for him and now he would see that it bore the fruit of an empire, one that would span Zebrica.
"Sergeant... Where is the mercenary companies I brought, any word?"
"No word from the Sebanwi, they should be to the far West. The Rwasa and Tebasi are on the Eastern edge of the village flushing out any stragglers from the bush."
"A thousand Sebanwi to deal with a worthless hamlet..." He stared off and wondered what his father was thinking by engaging in such a useless waste of resources. Perhaps fear? "Round up the slaves and let us be off, there is nothing else worth taking here."
He watched the soldiers race off through the smoke for the nearest high ground to escape the choking haze and before long the sound of a horn filled the air recalling the various forces arrayed.
Halim walked after them shaking his head but understanding the deal his father had struck with the king Sibusiso. It was a grand deal as well... Sibusiso was stretched to breaking with his own expansion far beyond to the south and was in desperate need of money. Or was it his greed? Madness?
Either way it did not matter as it meant he sold his own forces piecemeal to the highest bidder in exchange for cold hard coin. His father had capitalized on this long ago and even managed to form a semi-permanent alliance with Sibusiso by getting one of his daughters out of it. A daughter who had been in turn given to Halim as his second wife to solidify the alliance though it had born nothing yet.
Sibusiso was all to happy with the arrangement however as he lacked any sons of his own and with Halim, the crown prince no less, now being his son in law it meant his empire would stretch even further one day. Then again he could always pass on leadership to one of his daughters but as to why he had not no one knew.
"Maybe his choices are too limited..." Halim pondered this as he moved along quietly.
Whatever the reasons were it mattered not one bit as they got along well enough. Well, so long as there was loot to be had and today there would be plenty to go around for his tiny forces. That still left the Sebanwi out there with next to nothing for their take but that had been his fathers decision to send them the other way... Perhaps he could make an offering to them from the profits made from the slaves to placate them... No, that would be unwise if she were there when he made it.
Sibusiso's tribal armies had their share of problems as of late and the Sebanwi were at the top of the pile and not for lack of resources but because of infighting. Well it all worked in his favor either way in the end, for if the problem grew too big they would tear each other apart or be dealt with by their own king.
Halim watched the prisoners lined up and marched off back towards Paje where they would be sold or distributed as the king demanded if he cared to bother. Wherever and whatever the Sebanwi were doing no longer mattered as they had their orders and if it came to blows it would rest on their own heads not his own.
Then again if the Tebasi and Sebanwi unified that could cause a whole new world of problems as neither supported their king much anymore. His hypothesis was that the only reason they did not revolt was because their king held the biggest stick.
*Former hamlet of Ra'Tutsa, North West of Halim*
"Explain to me again fathah what the point of dis is."
Nyah looked at Khada with a glare as the tiny, defenseless hamlet was overwhelmed by the swarm of Sebanwi that had descended on them. There had been no battle nor even a struggle. Not one blow had been thrown by the terrified locals as they fled to their huts or ran for their lives across the fields.
She also doubted strongly they even had a single warrior among them let alone many weapons not used more commonly to keep bandits or most likely... To keep the wildlife away in their desolate and forgotten location.
However, a scout sent by someone had found this long forgotten little place and put it on a map and now that is was on a map that meant it had to burn.
Just because.
Buildings began to burn as the locals were harassed out of hiding before being stampeded off into a box of waiting soldiers. Their glorious king had long ago set down the rules for looting but it was highly doubtful they would get anything from this desolate place.
"Because the king says so and also because the Sebanwi were sold to Halim."
"We are not-ting more than whores. Dere is no honor in dis nor anyting we have done. Why are we even here? To scare fifty zebra?"
Khada glanced at his daughter a moment before looking back at the hamlet. "It is over anyway Nyah, we leave soon."
"Answer question."
"Learn to control your tongue Nyah. If one of Sibusiso's spies hears you talk that way he do worse than cut out tongue. You my daughter and will be chief after I die, remember that."
"Chief of tribe that has no honor anymore. Tribe that burns little hamlets and villages because some other king says so, because we sold to him and ordered to do bidding. This not even conquest this madness. Conquest honorable. Conquest we keep what we take and use it, this not even raid, this stupid."
"It not our place to question, we ordered to attack, we attack. Halim say we burn hamlet we burn it. Do not worry, no reason to attack again till next harvest. Until then grumble and mope all you want."
"You really believe that? We attack months before harvest this time."
Khada let out a sigh and closed his eyes. "What you want me to do? Rebel? Say no? I say no Sebanwi called traitors and other tribes attack, kill us all or sell us. Flee? Where. Nowhere to go unless we sell ourselves as mercenaries again far away but who hire six thousand Sebanwi? Whole villages must go or be destroyed. How. Explain to me."
Her father was right. To their west were enemies, to the north more enemies. East? Ilah. Beyond that? More enemies. They had been made enemies of all and allies of none save those few who had the coin to bribe the king but even that was temporary. Now that Zwali-Land and Ilah had formally allied themselves with marriage their future looked bleak. Very bleak.
"What about Tebasi? Ally and make own nation."
"If Sebanwi and Tebasi ally and rebel Ilah and Zwali send all their armies against us. We fight yes but what about our farmers and crafters? Crops will burn and food destroyed."
Nyah let out a strangled growl at the situation they had put themselves in. Long ago their ancestors had come here to "get away" from the internal politics only for those politics to move north. Sibusiso had even moved the capital north then declared Umfula Ugewebe the provincial capital thus bringing them back into the fold.
Long ago they had enjoyed sitting on the frontier and riding out most of the disputes and only being called to war now and then but now they were on the front line of every little skirmish and two bit war being waged. One week they were sold to Ilah, the next someone else and all in the name of coin so the coffers would not run dry for one more season.
Everything was in shambles. Last season they had been sold off to some small city-state to attack a rebelling group of small tribes only to find the lands abandoned and barren of crops. As to where they had gone no one knew and not for lack of trying, they had simply packed up and wandered off.
It was sickening the way they were used over and over again, passed around like common whores to solve someone elese's problems be they great or petty. Whatever pride they had one held was almost gone, forgotten along with their honor and dignity as a tribe. The Tebasi were much the same and it was well known that rumblings existed in several tribes but the fear of reprisal from the better paid and more loyal ones kept them all in check.
Then there was the problem of those from within who believed strongly they were to simply do as they were told.
As Nyah studied her fathers face she could see a part of him did not really believe any of it but so many lives hinged on his decisions there was little to no room for movement.
"So we damned to this fate?"
"Until we find another solution, yes."
"If I find answer you listen?"
Khada nodded.
*Alzamard*
An Arabian mare walked down the palace hallway, she had a light purple coat and darker mane. Turquoise eyes scanned the hallway quietly as she walked towards the throne room while her chainmail made soft scuffing noises. From the corner of her eye something black and rising caught her eye causing her to pause for a moment.
Ismat stopped to stare out the window at the distant tendrils of smoke rising from the slums beyond the city walls. It had started all over again as it did every year when the fever came, the great cleansing had begun and by evening some two thousand would be slain or burned alive by the mercenaries. Minimum.
As always it was in the name of health but in truth it was blood sport to keep themselves occupied. Then again it also served other purposes as it furnished the mercenary captains with a small amount of coin but also bodies. Flesh offered to keep them away and spare their little section of the slums. It mattered not how young the flesh was so long as it was sufficient to keep them away but thankfully few stooped so low.
Unfortunately those who refused got the brunt of the attacks and would eventually either be killed off till they bowed to the demands or fled to the countryside.
There was nowhere for them to go. Death from starvation and exposure or eat but take the yearly chance of being burned alive by mercenaries.
"Is something the matter?"
Ismat turned towards the voice and shifted to attention quickly. "No General."
"You will be late if you continue to gawk at things we have no control over."
The old stallion looked past her and out the window, his eyes were empty and nearly dead from a lifetime of serving Fareed's every whim. His coat had grayed so heavily it made him look ancient and indeed he was considering how much he had survived.
General Adil had out lived three sultans and his entire family except for one: his grand-daughter Ismat. Her father and brothers had all been slain in the various wars while her mother died from the stress after her last son was killed. It did not help Ismat had been declared dead either but by the time she returned it was too late to correct the mistake.
Her grandfather was a fine general despite his advanced age and still quite capable of fighting but as to why was still in question. Long ago she had been raised to believe in their sultan, to never allow doubt to cloud her mind. As nobles and officers in his army it was their absolute sworn duty to carry out his orders but as time wore on doubts arose.
Doubts that festered and grew the longer she lived and served but also included a strong doubt as to how one of her brothers had supposedly died. Adil on the other hand outwardly kept up a strong facade (or at least she hoped it was a facade) that everything was as it should be. Fareed was their rightful ruler and what they did was honorable and just.
Perhaps that was why he was so gray and worn down now after a lifetime of telling himself over and over again he was doing right no matter how wrong it was. Any time she had hinted at doubting things he was quick to correct and remind her that the reason they had kept the family mansion was because of their service to Fareed. Tax free, exempt from almost every law and they were even paid well.
But at what price?
The thought of becoming a mercenary had crossed her mind many a time. To simply find like minded soldiers and resign her commission then wander far away from Alzamard while hoping to find some other city that would take her on.
Perhaps Labrad would be a good start...
"Ismat?"
She jumped slightly as her thoughts were scrambled by her grandfathers voice, he never called her by name like that openly unless he was genuinely concerned.
"Do not allow what the mercenaries do to disturb your thoughts as we have no control over it. If Fareed says the fever must be burned out it will be but that blood will not be on our hands. We must hurry though lest we be late."
"Does it make a difference? We allow it to happen."
"Then who? The guards? They are not under the command of the army. Perhaps you wish to use the army itself and expose them to the fever..."
"No. After you general."
Ismat bowed and forced her real thoughts to the back of her mind as a heavy, scarred hand patted her shoulder once.
"In time you will learn to accept these things."
The idea of becoming an old, jaded and pessimistic general like her grandfather sent a cold twinge down her spine. He had so convinced himself of his duty and the righteousness of it that nothing would convince him otherwise.
Too many had died for him to believe otherwise.
Ismat followed him down the hallway as they wove their way to a side door allowing access to the throne room. Everyone had already gathered for the day and fights were already breaking out between the usual parties.
As always Zahir and Alim were arguing with the other advisors while Basir kept his distance from them all. She listened in on them as they took their usual post with the other officers and mercenary captains, the topic today was one which was bothering her: the fever.
Fareed sat quietly as always perfectly amused at seeing them bicker back and forth but never with him nor the mercenaries. The last one who had done that was Zahir and he had been whipped for challenging Xerin's decision.
Xerin and Fareed... A match made in hell itself. They were like estranged brothers who had at long last finally rejoined in an unholy union. It was rumored that Xerin would be offering up a daughter to Fareed but with certain precautions in place. Ismat had no doubt that if it were true it would make their problems explode if the rumors were true and worse, bore an heir.
Fareed for a father and Xerin for an uncle to train them in the art of being a mercenary... The thought made her shudder.
Alim and Zahir continued to do everything but spit and claw at the other advisors that the fever should not be burned out but allowed to run its course or better yet... Open up the coffers to treat the illness since the cure did exist.
"It would cost too much and we are already summoning the army to send it on campaign! We need that money to fight the war!"
"Then postpone the war! Harvest season is already a ways off!"
"If we start preparations now they will be finished just in time for the harvest."
Heads turned to Xerin who gave them all a bemused grin. This was a plan born of both Fareed and Xerin after all so if he declared it so then it was indisputable fact.
Zahir turned to Adil. "General Adil, I thought you commanded the army not Xerin."
"General Xerin."
Zahir twitched at Xerin's correction and gave a slow, forced bow before looking to Adil again.
"With our lack of wagons and oxen it will take as much time to organize yes, maybe longer with the fever being burned out... The workers will be in hiding and chaos will reign for a time slowing things down."
"It can not be helped, the fever must be burned out after all..."
Adil did not acknowledge Xerin's statement but continued to bore a hole in Zahir with his gaze till the advisor turned away.
"Sultan, I am still curious to know why we will be going to war with Salai. They are nearly in the mountains, well defended and the last time the army was sent-"
"That will be General Adil's problem not yours. My reasons are my own." Fareed waved a hand at Zahir causing the room to become deathly silent. "I see you brought your grand-daughter today Adil."
"Yes sire."
Ismat felt the combined eyes of the room take unwanted notice of her and especially those of the mercenaries.
"I trust she is performing well in her duties?"
"Well enough that I pray she replaces me one day."
"We shall see..." Fareed looked her over before loosing interest but Ismat swore he could see her thinking. "Time shall tell general. Now on to more important matters."
Clerks were ushered in bearing documents and began to unravel them as servants carried a large table over which they set it up so all could see the map laid out. Tokens were quickly arrayed showing where every force should be in garrison or actively in motion. Ismat stared to the south and noted the growing numbers of forces gathering along the Zwali-Ilah border.
Something was happening and Fareed knew exactly what it was so why send the army the other way? Was this expansion to take advantage of future chaos? Or was it something else? Whatever it was she would be neck deep in it along with her grandfather when the war was officially declared.
Fareed would never expose himself to attack however. Therefor whatever he had planned meant the southern problem would not move north for the time being. So why attack such a fortified target as Salai when better targets presented themselves?