The Endless Golden Dunes

Chapter 27: What Happens in War

HAMZA

  
The inevitable meeting with Walid had come.
  
Hamza and him sat on opposite ends of the table. On the table itself, there were wooden carved squares that Hamza guessed were supposed to be representatives of soldiers. A mock battlefield.
  
‘Are you ready for these responsibilities?’ Walid asked, his watchful gaze on Hamza.
  
‘I … I am not sure.’ Hamza hesitantly replied.
  
‘I was expecting that answer. Because of that, I wanted to give you a bit of a test; questions. It will shape you into someone that might be fit to be a captain.’
  
‘With respect, if I am not fit to be a captain, then why have you made me one?’
  
‘Because you simply have potential. Captains that are existent with us are scarce and not very good. They have no room to improve, you do. I am going to be asking the first question. Be prepared.’
  
Walid cleared his throat and looked Hamza in the eyes.
  
‘Two hundred prisoners of war are brought to you,’ he began. ‘They have surrendered their arms and beg for forgiveness. What do you do?’
  
‘Pardon them.’ Hamza immediately replied.
  
Walid nodded and continued.
  
‘Now, some men have refused to surrender in the city you plan to conquer. They are trying to kill your men. Do you kill them?’
  
‘I will not. I will try to stop them.’
  
When Walid heard the answer, he frowned.
  
‘Why would you refuse to kill them? They are killing your own men.’
  
‘They just need another chance. They will turn out to be good in the end.’
  
‘All right, what if they refuse to stop despite your pleas.’
  
‘I will simply imprison them.’
  
‘Then?’
  
‘I will wait for them to be redeemed.’
  
‘No execution?’
  
‘None.’
  
Walid massaged his temples, irritated.
  
‘Are you aware that they are your enemy?’
  
‘Quite so, yes.’
  
‘Are you even willing to kill a person?’
  
‘If I take one life, it is as if I have taken the life of the entirety of mankind.’
  
Walid stared at Hamza for an uncomfortably long, silent time. His glare was suggesting dissatisfaction, but something else, deep down. Was that pity, or was it guilt? Or was it both?
  
‘I do not know what your view of the world is,’ he said. ‘But what you imagine is false. In war, there is always bloodshed. Before you know it, the flesh of your friend is hung upon trees, before you could began to recite a surah, you see the body of your brother impaled, his limbs cut off. War makes saints killers, Hamza. It will only be a matter of time before that blade of yours is stained with the blood of someone whom you do not even know.’
  
Every word of Walid sounded as if they were huge rocks that Walid was throwing out. There was also that familiarity to them.

‘You need to kill in war, Hamza. They aren’t just tales of tragedy, they are real. Grief is real, suffering is real. I – I do not want to see you die.’
  
Walid’s warning was so much similar to what Zainab had told him. Killing. Can’t Hamza go to war without spilling a single drop of blood? Was it really as impossible as others put it?
  
‘You do not know what hole you have put yourself in,’ Walid said. ‘In war, either you kill, or be killed.’
  
‘It is not a necessity to kill, is it?’
  
‘I am afraid it is, Hamza. You are being delusional with how you see battles. If a captain does not kill when it is necessary, then he is not fit to be a captain. I can send you back to the camp right away if you want to, but I have not. You know why? Because I can see you taking a life.’
  
‘Outrageous! I have forbidden myself from ever taking a life. If there is one sin that I truly hate, it is the theft of a life. If you take a life, you take a person’s right to live. Once you take away that right, you have also taken the right for him to see himself change. They would have been men of God.’
  
Walid sighed. It wasn’t the sort of sigh that one would expect from an exhausted person, or one that is fed up by another’s stubbornness, it was the sort that one gave out when he would see someone so similar to him. Walid looked at Hamza as one looked at a mirror, seeing the reflection of oneself.
  
‘To live in war, one must kill,’ he said. ‘That is the just truth. If you do not accept it, then you will do so soon. Think about your family, Hamza–’
  
‘Do not tempt me, Walid sayed.’
  
‘–They are waiting for you–’
  
‘Walid, for the last time–’
  
‘Those who did not have the courage to kill did not see their parents, Hamza! Can you not understand?’
  
Walid had raised his voice to such an extent that Hamza wasn’t able to differentiate it from thunder itself.
  
‘Do you have any idea how many young men I had to see pass away. Most of them had wives and children! I still remember one of their words: “Until God says it to me Himself, I will not kill.” That man was given to the wild dogs alive. The ones I have seen alive have all killed. They had it in their hearts. Hamza, I have no option but to never see my wife and children ever again.’
  
Hamza was taken back a bit.
  
‘Y-you have a family?’ he asked, albeit timidly.
  
‘I do,’ Walid replied softly. ‘They are somewhere near the Euphrates. I have not seen them in ten years. My son, I have not carried him ever since he was born. He’s a boy now; a strong one, I hope. Do you know how hard it is to bear that truth? Even if I live after this, I will not be able to see them, I will never see them. You, meanwhile’ – he pointed at Hamza with his pointer finger – ‘You can see your family again. If you live, you will be able to touch their faces again. But to live, you need to kill.’
  
Hamza allowed the words to sink into him. They pierced into his flesh and twisted his stomach. The mental pain was awful. It seemed to tear off pieces of his brain and even soul.
  
He sighed.
  
‘I am afraid I will not be able to do such a thing,’ he flatly said. ‘Walid, sir, I respect you. You are one of the greatest leaders I have met. But I do not have the strength to do as you tell me to do. I am sorry. You might as well send me back.’
  
Walid thoughtfully looked at the table, at the mock battlefield as if he was strategizing his way of attack. Then he nodded in calm defeat.
  
‘I understand. I will not overrule your choice, but I will also not allow you to leave for the training camp. I think you will still work well as a leader, when you lack the war enthusiasm of a general. You are allowed to go.’
  
Hamza nodded. As politely as he could, he stood up and shook Walid’s hand. But when he went towards the exit, Walid spoke again.
  
‘Fate makes us do things that we never wanted to. Usually, they are never for good.’
  
‘What are you talking about?’
  
‘You will soon see.’
  
Hamza wanted to speak something, perhaps another question, but his tongue didn’t allow it, as if the world wanted him to just end the conversation here and now. He nodded.
  
‘Allah hafiz.’ He said.
  
And he left.