Kion was a warrior of the Wanugha tribe. In the 12th century, he won a crushing victory over the Almohads. But it was all too short-lived, even before the Caliphate had sent more troops. So, to save his tribe from misfortune, he exiled himself to Eg...
Author's note: At last! I've finished this chapter. But... I ended up with 25 word pages. So I've decided to divide this chapter into two parts, I hope you don't mind.
Thanks again to @Madg201 for voting for this story, I invite you to do the same and to comment.
Also, if the use of Thou/thee, thy and thine instead of You, your, yours makes it hard for you to read and understand the story, let me know and I'll correct myself. And on that note, happy reading!...
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During the week following the triumphal entry of Kabyle & Turkish troops into Tighra, a number of events took place. The following day, or the day after, the Djemâa of Tighra asked the soldiers to withdraw the title of Emir from Abu Abbas Kion, lest he upset traditional institutions or try to declare himself Caliph in the Caliph's stead. The soldiers threatened to put the region to fire and blood if the oldmen decided to take the young ones too far. Bunga first, who came back from Melala at triple gallop especially to face the elders to defend the honor of his best friend, in the absence of the latter and the rest of the Guard, on pilgrimage to Timezrit des Immel.
–"So! He's bringing back the honor lost through decades of humiliation, and this is how you repay him!" barked Bunga at them.
–"Dat's not de point!" retorted old Rafiki, village imam and head of the local sufi brotherhood. "Kion, son of Si Mbarek, is transgressing de laws of de ancestors."
–"But in what way? These laws are no longer valid. On the contrary, Kion has become the most valiant man in the tribe, so he should be appointed Headman, shouldn't he?"
–"His father has already been Headman for twenty years; to appoint him would be to give him too much power. Especially as he doesn't have the allegiance of faction leaders." Makuu, leader of Tahar's clan, retorted.
–"He's in truth. What's more, we're at our wits' end. Another simple expedition by the Earl and we're dead. To recognize another Emir would be to challenge his authority very strongly, and thereby, the authority of the Caliph of Marrakech OR the cousins of the former king. This risks hampering trade and peace in the region." Repeated the old Hadithi merchant.
–"So you only saw through politics! ARGH!!! It's obvious yous have lost all sense of honor. Y'all saw what we were capable of at the Iron Gates. ISN'T IT!!! Well, let them come back, and they'll see if they don't become chewed straw." Bunga always retorted.
–"Don't be so optimistic, young Bunga." Declared a fourth old man lying on the Djemââ carpet, his head resting on the palm of his hand. "We're just one Sanhadja nation's tribe among many facing the almighty power of all the Maghreb."
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