Say Walah

2: Parley

The ancient ruins of Filin Kasa stood silent and imposing in the moonlit desert night. Once a grand structure, now weathered by centuries of sand and wind, its crumbling pillars and fallen stones created a silhouette against the star-studded sky. The ruins occupied the center of a vast, open expanse that stretched for miles in every direction - a natural arena that offered no hiding places for ambush or archers.

Near the ruins, a small oasis defied the harsh desert climate. A solitary coconut tree stood sentinel over a patch of lush carpet grass, surrounded by bushes laden with wild berries. This hidden gem of life amidst the barren landscape had been a sanctuary for the Emir and the Waziri since their boyhood days.

As they approached on horseback, the familiar sight of Filin Kasa brought a flood of memories to both men. They slowed their mounts, the soft sound of hooves on sand the only noise breaking the desert's silence. Dismounting with the ease of experienced riders, they took a moment to secure their horses before turning to face each other.

Abdullahi spoke first, his voice low and tinged with nostalgia, "Ah, Usman, how many times did we sneak away to this place as boys? It seems a lifetime ago."

Usman nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, my brother. Though I fear our worries then were far simpler than those we face tonight."

Abdullahi chuckled softly. "True. Our greatest concern was avoiding my sister's watchful eye when we stole sweets from the kitchen."

"And now we come to negotiate the fate of our people," Usman said, his tone growing serious. "Allah has a way of elevating our challenges as we age."

The Emir's face sobered. He placed a hand on Usman's shoulder. "I thank Him every day for bringing you into my life, my friend. Your counsel has been invaluable, especially in these dark times."

Usman bowed his head slightly. "I owe everything to your family, Abdullahi. Your father lifted me from the streets, gave me a home, an education... and a brother." He glanced up, meeting the Emir's eyes. "Whatever comes of this meeting, know that I stand with you, as I always have."

Abdullahi's grip on Usman's shoulder tightened. "I know, my friend. And that gives me strength. But tell me truthfully - do you believe we can find a peaceful resolution with Mahmoud?"

Usman was quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. "The Sultan is ambitious and ruthless, yes. But he is also a man who understands the value of stability. If we can convince him that a mutually beneficial arrangement would serve his interests better than a costly occupation..."

"Then perhaps we can save our people without sacrificing our autonomy," Abdullahi finished the thought.

"It's a delicate balance," Usman cautioned. "We must be prepared to make concessions, but not so many that we become mere puppets."

The Emir nodded gravely. "And if he refuses any reasonable terms? If he demands complete submission?"

Usman's eyes hardened. "Then we will have lost nothing but a night's ride, and we'll return to defend Garin Gabas to our last breath."

A moment of understanding passed between them, born of years of shared experiences and mutual trust.

Abdullahi broke the silence, gesturing towards the oasis. "Come, let us refresh ourselves before the Sultan arrives. Who knows when we'll next have a moment of peace?"

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As the moon passed its zenith, four figures emerged from the desert.

The Sultan, Mahmoud al-Ghazi, loomed even from a distance, his features sharpening as he approached in the moonlight. Handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline, his beauty carried a terrifying edge. His left eye was sealed shut by a long, jagged scar that ran from his forehead to his cheek, giving him a perpetually menacing expression. His right eye, dark and piercing, seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it. A meticulously groomed black beard tapered to a point at his chest, adding to his regal yet ominous appearance.

Draped in crimson and gold robes with intricate patterns, the Sultan's curved scimitar glinted at his side. A single black pearl adorned his magnificent turban.

Beside him stood his son, Prince Rashid, lean and predatory, eyes hungry. Dressed in black, a silver dagger gleamed at his belt, his hand never far from its hilt.

On the Sultan's left loomed his general - a giant of a man. Standing nearly seven feet tall, with shoulders as broad as an ox, he dwarfed everyone present. His face was a map of battle scars, and his armor clinked softly with each step. A massive two-handed sword was strapped to his back, its hilt rising above his head.

Scurrying ahead of the group was the Sultan's mouthpiece - a small, round man with a nervous energy about him. His eyes darted between the Emir and Waziri, then back to his master, as if seeking constant approval.

The Emir and Waziri exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the unexpected size of the Sultan's party. Before they could speak, the mouthpiece stepped forward, his voice high and reedy.

"His Most Exalted and Merciful Highness, Sultan Mahmoud al-Ghazi, Conqueror of a Thousand Lands, Shadow of Allah on Earth, has deigned to grant you this audience. State your purpose quickly, for the Sultan's time is precious."

Abdullahi straightened. "We come to negotiate terms to end this costly siege and bring peace to our lands."

"Peace?" scoffed the mouthpiece. "Garin Gabas will kneel before the true Shadow of Allah, or there is no peace. What terms can you offer?"

The Waziri stepped forward. "We propose a mutually beneficial arrangement. Garin Gabas would acknowledge the Sultan's overlordship and pay a reasonable tribute, but maintain autonomy in internal affairs."

Prince Rashid laughed, a harsh sound in the quiet desert night. "Autonomy? You speak as if you have leverage, old man."

The Sultan raised a hand, silencing his son. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and smooth as silk. "Continue. What else do you offer?"

The Emir nodded. "We would open our markets to your traders, offer military support when called upon, and share our knowledge of the southern trade routes."

The mouthpiece turned to the Sultan, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "And in return?" the small man asked.

"In return," said the Emir, "you lift the siege, guarantee our borders against other invaders, and allow us to maintain our laws and customs."

A tense silence fell over the gathering. The Sultan's general shifted, his armor creaking ominously.

Finally, the Sultan spoke directly. "You offer me trinkets and ask me to leave a fortress unconquered at my back? Do you take me for a fool?"

The Waziri quickly interjected, "Great Sultan, consider the cost of taking Garin Gabas by force. How many men would you lose? How much treasure spent? And even if you succeed, you'll be left with a ruined city and a resentful population."

Prince Rashid sneered. "We have taken stronger cities than yours, old man. Your walls crumble as we speak."

The Emir stood his ground. "Yet we still stand, after three moons of siege. Imagine the cost of three more."

The Sultan's gaze intensified, his single eye boring into the Emir. "You overestimate your position, Emir. Perhaps I should simply take your head now and end this charade."

Tension spiked as hands moved to weapons. The Waziri spoke quickly, "Violence here would solve nothing, Great Sultan. Surely there is room for negotiation?"

The night wore wore on, marked by tense exchanges and fleeting moments of hope. The Sultan demanded full submission, the disbanding of Garin Gabas' army, and the installation of his own governors. The Emir and Waziri fought for every concession, offering increased tributes, military service, even royal hostages in exchange for autonomy.

But for every step forward, there were two steps back. The Prince's aggressive interruptions and the General's ominous presence served as constant reminders of the threat looming over Garin Gabas.

As the eastern sky began to lighten, both parties were frustrated and no closer to an agreement. The Sultan's patience was clearly wearing thin, and the Emir and Waziri exchanged worried glances, aware that they were running out of both time and options.

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