ALFITYAN: GUARDIANS OF THE THRONE

The city of Zariya was made of dust and gold. Dust from the desert wind that blew every afternoon. Gold from the sun that set over the Sultan's palace, making the white walls look like they were on fire. Yaqub had walked for seven days to get here. His sandals were torn. His jalba was dusty. His stomach was empty. But his eyes were angry. "Where is my brother?" he asked a trader near the gate. "Yusuf. He came to Zariya last year to work. He did not return." The trader shrugged. "Many boys come to Zariya, my son. Many don't return. This is big city." Yaqub tightened his fist. His brother Yusuf was 10 years older. When their mother died, Yusuf said, "Stay here, Yaqub. I will go to Zariya and make money. I will send for you." That was one year ago. No letter. No money. Yaqub was 19 now. He could not wait anymore. He entered Zariya gate. The city was loud. Camels, horses, women selling kosai, men shouting, children running. It smelled of suya and perfume and sweat. He was looking at a tower when he bumped into someone. A girl. She fell down, and her books fell down. Her hijab slipped a little. She was maybe 18, with big eyes, and she was angry immediately. "Ya Allah! Are you blind? Can't you see?" she shouted, standing up, dusting her blue dress. Yaqub stared. "You are shouting at me? You were the one standing in middle of road!" "I was NOT standing in middle! You were walking like a lost goat!" She picked her books. "Look! My herbs book!" Yaqub picked one book and gave it to her. "Sorry, lost goat girl." She snatched it. "I am not lost goat girl! My name is Aisha! Daughter of Hakim Suleman, the palace healer! What is your name, bush boy?" "Yaqub. I am not bush boy." "You look like bush boy," she said, looking at his dusty clothes. "Where are you from?" "From beyond the hills. Village of Tarka." Aisha's eyes softened a little. "Tarka? That's far. Why did you come?" "To find my brother. Yusuf." Aisha shook her head. "Many brothers get lost here. Zariya eats poor boys." Just then, palace drums beat. Loud. DONG! DONG! DONG! Everyone stopped and looked at palace wall where a crier stood. "HEAR! HEAR! Sultana Hafsa decrees! To protect the future Sultan Idris, she will create AL-FITYAN! Six brave young men from noble families will live in palace, train together, become protectors of Zariya! Their families will be honored! Come tomorrow to palace gate if you are chosen!" People started gossiping loudly. "Al-Fityan... protectors..." Aisha rolled her eyes. "My father said about this. Sultana wants to control the sons of chiefs. Keep them close so they don't fight her son." Yaqub listened. "Al-Fityan... like warriors?" "Yes. Handsome, rich, stupid warriors," Aisha said. "Not for bush boys like you." Yaqub smiled for first time. "We will see." Aisha was about to insult him again when a guard ran past shouting, "Clear road! Clear road!" A horse came fast. On it was a boy, maybe 19, in simple clothes but with fine leather boots. He had a face like moon - too beautiful for a boy. Everyone stared. He was riding too fast and almost hit Aisha. Yaqub pulled Aisha back quickly. She fell into his chest. The boy on horse stopped, looked at them. His eyes met Aisha's. "Sorry," he said in soft voice. Then he rode away to palace. Aisha's heart beat fast, not from fear, but from something else. Yaqub felt it because she was still in his arms. He let go quickly. "You like handsome horse boys?" Yaqub teased. Aisha hit his arm with her book. "Shut up, bush boy! I don't like anyone!" She walked away fast, her blue hijab flying. Yaqub watched her go, then touched his chest where she fell. --- That night, Yaqub slept near mosque. He had no money for inn. The beautiful boy from horse, who was actually Sultan Idris in disguise, entered palace through secret back gate. His mother, Sultana Hafsa, waited. She was 40, beautiful but hard face. "Idris, where were you? You cannot ride alone! Someone can kill you!" she said. Idris - Sultan of Zariya, but no one knew his face because he had lived hidden in temple for 10 years for safety - took off his turban. "Mother, I wanted to see my city. People are poor. They don't know they have Sultan." "That is why I am creating Al-Fityan," Sultana said. "Six sons of chiefs will become your brothers, your swords. You will join them as 'Idris', not as Sultan. You will learn to be man and king." Idris frowned. "I don't want brothers who are sons of chiefs who tried to kill father." "They must be close to be controlled," Sultana said. "Tomorrow, they come." --- Next morning, palace gate was full of fine boys. Umar, son of Minister of Trade, handsome, with gold earrings. Khalid, son of Grand Vizier, cold face, eyes like ice. Faris, son of Chief of East, beautiful like girl, smiling always. Bilal, 17, son of Old Chief Ibrahim, shy, hiding behind his brother. And two more. Yaqub stood at back, dusty, watching. Guards tried to push him away. "This is for noble sons only! Go away, beggar!" "I want to join Al-Fityan," Yaqub said loud. Everyone laughed. Umar laughed loudest. "You? You have no family name. Al-Fityan is for sons of lions, not sons of goats!" Umar said. Hakim Suleman, the palace healer, was passing with Aisha. Aisha saw Yaqub and whispered to her father. Hakim looked at Yaqub's hands, his shoulders. "This boy has hunter hands. Strong." He went to the Captain. "Let him try," Hakim said. "Sultana said 'brave young men', not just 'rich young men'. Let Allah decide who is brave." The Captain grunted. "Fine. Fight test. If you beat one of them, you stay." Umar stepped forward, laughing. "I will fight bush boy." They fought in dust. Umar was strong but slow, trained with palace teachers. Yaqub was fast, trained by hunger and mountains. In three minutes, Yaqub put Umar on ground, with Umar's own sword at Umar's neck. Silence. Aisha clapped loudly. "He did it! Bush boy did it!" Hakim smiled. The Captain looked shocked, then shouted, "Yaqub of Tarka! You are sixth Al-Fityan!" Yaqub stood up, breathing hard. He looked at Khalid, Faris, Bilal, Umar who was now angry on ground. Then he looked at last person entering gate - the beautiful boy from yesterday, now in simple white jalba. "And this is Idris, son of a distant cousin," Sultana's servant announced. "He is sixth... no, seventh? Sultana adds one more." Idris looked at Yaqub and recognized him - the boy who saved the girl. Yaqub recognized him too - horse boy. They both stared. Aisha, watching from side, whispered to herself, "Ya Allah... now there are TWO troublesome boys in my city." From palace balcony, Sultana Hafsa watched all seven boys, and whispered, "Welcome to Zariya, my sons. Now protect my son, even if you don't know who he is." The drums beat again. Al-Fityan was born.