by Evan Winter
“Our war with the Xiddeen nears its climax at a time when our queendom has been sundered,” Mirembe said. “Our existence depends on the choices we make these next few days.”
The general nodded.
“Your Majesty,” Mirembe said, “we’re at war and war should not be the business of queens or ruling councils. We have our people to consider, which is why general Ade Otobong has been asked to lead our new Guardian Council and your military.”
“So, you’ve selected and seek to raise to power the man who will act as the third balancing force in our queendom?” Tsiora asked in a way that reminded Tau of how he might stab at an opponent.
“We have and he will,” Mirembe said, voice trembling as she swept her arm out in Otobong’s direction. She sounded earnest to the point of being fearful, but her eyes told a different story. They were bright, sharp, and bold as bronze. “My queen, to end this civil strife, regain Palm City and the faith of all our Noble people, we need to be strong enough to show Odili that the cost of war is too great to bear. We need to present Abasi Odili with an opponent he has no choice but to respect, and this council, servants to you, one and all, have that person in General Otobong.”
“In just one rainy night, you’ve decided all that?” the queen asked.
She was too far away to do so, but Mirembe reached out as if she would hold Tsiora, if only she could. “We have, my queen. My dear, we have. Tell her, General.”
“The council has voted to give me authority over all the Ihagu, Ihashe, and Indlovu who remain loyal to Your Majesty,” General Otobong said. “The path ahead will not be an easy one, but with the Goddess’s blessing, I believe we can reunite our people and retain hold of the peninsula when the Xiddeen attack.”
“With the Goddess’s blessing …” Tsiora seemed to be speaking to herself.
Oblivious to her tone, Otobong charged ahead. “We believe Odili has the equivalent of one and a half dragons of fighting men with him in Palm City. He has five scales of Indlovu and thirty-something Lesser scales that are pretty evenly split between Ihashe and Ihagu. In this city, we have one military dragon made up of a scale and a third of Indlovu and twenty-eight scales of Lessers.
“The numbers make it clear that we can’t take the capital before the Xiddeen return, so our first step will be to open talks with Palm City. I’m confident this will go well because Odili knows me. He knows my record and that I’m good to my word.” Otobong clapped a fist to his chest three times. “He knows he’s better off avoiding the fight I’d give him, and once he’s offered a full pardon, we’ll be able to negotiate reasonable terms with him and Queen Esi.”
At the word “pardon,” Tau’s lips curled back over his teeth and his hands dropped to the hilts of his swords. The movement wasn’t subtle, and the general’s heavy brows pulled together as his eyes dipped to Tau’s sheathed weapons. He was about to say something when the queen spoke.
“Queen Esi?” she asked, her words so quiet they were hard to hear.
“Ah … Your Majesty,” Otobong began, “it is your sister’s current styling, and with no offense meant, I simply—”
“Queen Esi?” Tsiora said, louder this time.
“Queen Tsiora,” Mirembe said, emphasizing her name, “I believe the general only meant to suggest that, once talks begin, it will be prudent to extend every courtesy to the other side. Isn’t that right, General?”
“As you wish, Chairwoman.”
“Yes,” Mirembe said, dipping her head low to the queen.
“Enough,” Tsiora said. “Save such scheming for another day. We won’t allow—”
“Scheming?” Mirembe said, voice high. “My queen, that’s not a fair—”
“Your queen is speaking!” Nyah said.
Mirembe stood, feigning no subservience, and, instead of showing a lowered head or lipless smile, she flexed her hands into claws. “Vizier, you overstep.”
“We said enough,” Tsiora said. “This meeting rests on the mistaken belief that we cannot retake our capital and throne.”
Keeping his hands on his hilts, Tau looked to the queen. He’d chosen her side and that was where he’d stay. She’d promised him Odili. But even without having laid eyes on it, he knew enough about Palm City, which had tall, thick walls and stood between the forks of the Amanzi River, to know that General Otobong was telling the truth.
They didn’t have the strength of arms to wrest the capital from Odili’s grasp and wouldn’t without bolstering the number of soldiers they already had. To do that, they’d have to call up most of the Ihagu and Ihashe left in the peninsula.
As far as Tau knew, it was within the queen’s rights to do so. She could order the fiefs to send their fighters to her, but if the other umbusi were anything like Jabari’s mother, they wouldn’t take kindly to orders that stripped them of their soldiers and left them defenseless. Worst of all, if they decided they were better off disobeying, it would weaken Tsiora. A leader whose orders aren’t followed does not remain a leader for long.
“My queen, I’m afraid I haven’t laid out our position clearly enough,” Otobong said. “Please allow me to explain.”
“Would you, General?” Tsiora asked, offering him a dead smile. “There are so many details.”
If Otobong kept talking about pardoning Odili, Tau would be the first to gut the general, but given the queen’s tone, his sense that the man was in danger was so strong, he almost wanted to warn him to shut up.
“Of course, my queen,” Otobong said, nodding hard enough to make his jowls shake. “You see, we can’t take the capital by siege. We don’t have the numbers, and even if we did, we don’t have the time. There’s less than a moon cycle before our truce with the hedeni ends, and if the totality of our forces are not aligned by then, we’ll be wiped out.”
“Thank you, General. That’s very helpful,” Tsiora said. “Helpful, but wrong.”
“Wrong? Uh … how’s that … Your Majesty?”
“We don’t need to siege the capital,” she said. “When we go to take it, the gates will be opened for us.”
Otobong narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what the queen was getting at. “If I may be bold, Your Majesty, I do not think Odili will surrender his life and the city to you, no matter how many times you order him to do it.”
“We do not care what Odili will or won’t do. We have agents in Palm City. They’ll open the gates when we come.”
Tau’s grip tightened on his hilts when she said it. The queen had a way into the city and that meant they were going to take the fight to Odili.
Otobong shook his head, and the general began to speak even more slowly, enunciating each word as if Empiric wasn’t the queen’s first language. “My queen, I must take you at your word about these agents, but even so, you’re asking us to take too great a risk. What we have are a smattering of Ihagu, some Ihashe, a few initiates from the citadel, and several loyal Indlovu who survived the invasion. Together they’re a military dragon, but they just came out of a bitter battle. We can’t expect to mobilize them, march to Palm, and win that fight, even if the gates are opened.”
“You began this boasting of your capabilities,” Tsiora said. “We’ve told you the gates will be open. Where is your faith, General?”
“They weren’t boasts and I do have faith, my queen. I have faith that if we do the right thing, we can reunite our people and survive, but it isn’t right to face Odili in combat, not as we are,” he said. “He has too many Indlovu and Ingonyama. He has at least as many Gifted as we do, and Goddess knows, the Ihashe and Ihagu in Palm City won’t understand our conflict and are likely to keep fighting for him too.” Otobong turned his body to include Mirembe and the other councilwomen in the discussion. “To win this fight we need more soldiers but don’t have the time to gather them. I’m telling you, if we wish to see another season, we have days to end this rebellion. Days.”
Mirembe clapped her hands together, drawing the room’s attention. “What can we do, then, General
?” she asked. “What can we do to survive?”
“It’s as I’ve said. We must compromise with Odili and … uh … and Princess Esi.”
“This is your decision?” Mirembe asked. “The decision of the Guardian Council?”
“It is,” Otobong said.
“No. Abasi Odili betrayed us,” Queen Tsiora said. “He tried to kill us.”
Mirembe nodded, put a hand to her chest, and closed her eyes as if in prayer. “His actions hurt us all. They are a stain on his honor and a blight on the history of our people.” She opened her eyes, fixing them on Tsiora. “But that does nothing to change the facts the general described, the decision he’s made, and the decision that we on the Ruling Council must also make.”
“This is what you want?” Tsiora asked. “You wish us to forgive and forget treachery?”
“My queen, we’re responsible for more than ourselves in this,” Mirembe said, “and to carry out the duty we owe to those we lead, we have to forgive and forget, or everyone dies.”
Someone behind Tau cleared his throat. It was Hadith, and although he looked uncomfortable when the faces in the room turned to him, he didn’t wither beneath the gaze of his betters.
Tau was beside Nyah and saw her signal Tsiora. The vizier didn’t want her to let Hadith speak, but Nyah’s want wasn’t enough. In the matter of Guardian Councillor Abasi Odili, Tau and the queen were cut from the same stone. They could not forget and they would never forgive.
“Ihashe,” Queen Tsiora said to Hadith. “You have something to say?”
LEADERSHIP
There may be a way to delay the Xiddeen attack long enough to gather the forces needed to take Palm City,” Hadith said, “but if we fail, the Xiddeen will send their full might against us immediately.”
Otobong sucked his teeth and stepped farther away from Hadith, like the Ihashe’s smell offended him. “You offer self-destruction?” he asked, before turning to the councilwomen. “I wonder, council, should we not bring in a few of the stabled horses to present their opinions as well?”
“General,” Queen Tsiora said, “we have given this Ihashe leave to speak.”
Otobong seemed to be waiting for Mirembe to do or say something. When she didn’t, he frowned. “Of course, my queen. Why not listen? We have nothing if not time.”
Tsiora looked ready to respond to that, but her next words were gentle, and they were for Hadith. “Go on, Ihashe. Describe the path as you see it.”
“They haven’t left yet,” Hadith said. “The Xiddeen must wait out this storm before sailing, and that means they’re still on our shores.” A thunderclap boomed, as if to support his point. “There are only three beaches beyond the Fist where the Xiddeen could have landed as many raiders as they did. If we split our men into prongs, we can—”
“My queen,” said Otobong, “I apologize, but must we listen to more of this madness? With no humor, I’d rather hear from the horses.”
“General …,” Tsiora said.
“The Lesser is going to suggest we attack the hedeni,” the general said. “He thinks to void our truce by ambushing a force that outnumbers us. Why begin that journey when we can cut to the end of this path by slitting our own throats now?”
“Ihashe?” Tsiora said to Hadith.
She wanted an answer to the problems the general had raised. Tau worried there wasn’t one.
“We don’t need to kill everyone,” Hadith said.
Otobong laughed. “That helps, since we can’t.”
“We just need to kill the warlord.”
“Good thinking, Lesser,” Otobong said. “We won’t fight the other hedeni. We’ll walk past them and only attack the warlord.”
Hadith was becoming angry. His expression hadn’t changed, but Tau had known him long enough to see it.
“We can wait until most of the Xiddeen have left our shores before we attack,” Hadith said.
“Of course we can,” Otobong said. “We have enough fighters to outnumber a single ship’s complement. Our men can swim the Roar, blades held in their teeth, to attack Warlord Achak on his boat.” He grinned at the Indlovu around him. “I see it better now.”
“No, you don’t,” Hadith said, earning himself a sharp look from the Greater Noble. “The warlord is the Xiddeen’s military leader, and by all accounts, he’s a good one. He’ll remain onshore as the majority of his raiders embark. We can attack when the Xiddeen remaining on our land are too few to stop us.”
“Why in the Goddess’s name would the warlord remain onshore while the strength of his force sails?”
“For much the same reason the Xiddeen fight women alongside their men,” Hadith told the general.
Otobong waved away the explanation. “That’s done because it’s the only way they can field enough bodies to overwhelm us.”
“They do it because they view one another as equals,” Hadith said. “Women, men, soldiers, and leaders, for the most part each life is considered to hold equal value and ability.”
Otobong squinted at Hadith. “What are you, Governor caste?” he asked, his eyes flickering to Tau. “Are you trying to tell me that a simple Low Common has equal worth in divining a fief’s finances as you would? Come, now, you’re grabbing a dull sword by its blade and naming it a hilt. The savages are unsophisticated, but even they know that a warlord’s life, with his knowledge of their numbers, strategies, and tactics, outweighs the life of one soldier. He’ll be protected.”
“You’re right on some counts,” Hadith said. “The Xiddeen will protect him, but I’m telling you that, in this, they’ll behave more like Lessers than Nobles.”
Smiling, Otobong spread his arms wide. “Don’t they always?” he asked.
Hadith turned to Tau. “Champion,” he said, “a storm rages outside and no ships can sail the Roar for as long as it does. When the storm dies and the Xiddeen board their vessels, where would you, as their leader, be?”
Tau told the truth. “On the shore. If I lead men into danger, I must see them out of it as well.”
Letting his eyes slide past the general and to the queen, Hadith dipped his head, the gesture taking them both in. “At its essence, isn’t true leadership simply service?” he asked.
Tau didn’t see the queen’s reaction. He was too busy watching Otobong advance on Hadith.
“I’m right here, Lesser,” the general said. “If you have something to say to me, have the courage to do it openly.”
Hadith took a small step back while meeting Otobong’s eyes with his own. “When the storm ends and the Xiddeen begin to leave our shores, we know they’ll do it in several groupings. It’s the only way they can be sure to avoid having their entire fleet sunk by a rogue wave.” Hadith turned to the queen. “I think that the warlord will be among one of the final groups to take to the water, and that gives us our chance.”
“You think?” Otobong asked. “You think?”
“I know it as well as I can know anything that hasn’t yet happened,” Hadith said, pushing on, “and I’m not saying it’ll be easy to get to him. All the fighters in the warlord’s sailing group will still be onshore. It’s like you mentioned. The Xiddeen can’t deny that Achak is important, and he will be protected, but we won’t have to face the full strength of the raiding force.” The general didn’t seem convinced, and Hadith gave it one more swing. “Please, we’ll never have a better chance.”
Otobong closed the remaining distance between them. “You’re saying that you understand our enemy because you’re more like them than I am, and I won’t argue that. On the other hand, I find myself revolted by the fact that you’re using such base commonality as the foundation for your advice to our monarch. Goddess wept, you’re asking your queen to break her sworn word. Lesser, do you lack even a Drudge’s honor?”
Hadith drew himself up to his full height, coming just short of Otobong’s neck. “If you do as I ask, Warlord Achak will never leave our peninsula. He’ll die here and his death will throw the Xiddeen into disarray.”
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“I’ll do no such thing,” Otobong said. “I won’t listen to plans for backstabbing and promise breaking when we have Odili and Palm City to consider.”
“Odili stands behind the tall walls of a fortified city that is filled with Indlovu, Ihashe, and Gifted,” Hadith said. “We don’t have the strength to take him on without reinforcements from the fiefs, and we don’t have the time to reinforce before the Xiddeen return to wipe us out. That’s what you told us, right?”
Chairwoman Mirembe spoke then. “And that is why we must make amends with Odili.”
“There will be no amends.” The words were out of Tau’s mouth before he could stop them.
“Champion,” Nyah said, a warning in her tone.
“Champion…. ” Mirembe cocked her head to one side, saying the word as if she’d never found occasion to utter it before. “Is there something you wish to add?”
“Odili is a traitor. He’ll die a traitor’s death,” he said.
“Really? But isn’t that something your queen should decide?” Mirembe asked. “Doesn’t that decision fall under the purview of the one to whom you swore your oaths, and her councils?”
Tsiora answered and her words helped to calm Tau. “Abasi Odili attempted a coup and has thrown our queendom into a state of civil war. His crimes can have only one response.”
“And in better times, we would respond exactly as you’re suggesting,” Mirembe said. “But, Your Majesty, we do not have the luxury of better times. We must do as we Nobles have always done. We must settle our internal differences peacefully so that we can face our enemies with the full might of our bronze and fire.”
Tau couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Differences?” he said. “Odili tried to kill our queen and there are many others who no longer breathe because of him. He’s a murderer and there’s nothing but justice waiting for him.”
“How dare you,” Otobong said. “You’re talking about a Royal Noble.”
Tau could see where this was heading. They wouldn’t listen. They’d planned it out so they wouldn’t have to. The new Ruling and Guardian Councils intended to outvote the queen and welcome Odili back with open arms, and Odili would accept. He’d have to or he’d die like everyone else in the Xiddeen attack.
