A Dragon's Heart

15.

BILAL.

“The offensive line is even worse than the defense. What have you all been doing these past few weeks?” I snapped, looking from one lieutenant to another. Both men had solemn looks on their faces as they ducked their heads down, hands clasped behind their backs, legs shoulder-width apart.

Having just arrived at the caliphate a few hours ago, I met briefly with the caliph to discuss a few things and finally went down to the training grounds. Only to be disappointed. Sounds filtered through the flaps of the tent from the soldiers training outside, while I, Aamir, and Khalild, along with the two lieutenants overseeing the Santorian army were inside.

And I had spent the last six hours watching them make a mess of themselves in the name of training.

“Afuwan, Sayyadi.”

“Afuwan? Afuwan?!” I thundered, hitting the table before me angrily. “I left my home for this? Was this what you wanted to show me?” I was getting agitated, I knew it. But what else was I supposed to do when the new recruits were falling behind on training, and had only two days left to report to the sultan. Was I supposed to report that the training of the recruits failed because the lieutenants were imbeciles?

“How many trained soldiers do we have here?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Less than five hundred, Sayyadi,” Lieutenant Daud replied.

Not good. Totally not good.

After the clash with the faeries a few years back, we suffered a great loss, and we still hadn’t gotten back on our feet. A lot of men were refusing to join mostly because of how many lives were lost during the clash. But that wasn’t the worst part. What made everything worse was the fact that we suffered even more loss when the dark elves attacked. They were supposed to be the minority. The species without much power and population, and so, we underestimated them. Just like the wendigos, goblins, Kaylis and trolls. Even more so was the fact that until a few decades ago, these species didn’t cross into our realm. They were the dark species, created from a clash between three guardian clans.

Now the dark elves carried the vengeance of wanting to belong. Wanting a land of their own instead of hiding in the shadows alongside the other creatures. They wanted to make their empire, and they wanted the dragon empire for that.

Fortunately, we managed to contain them, but the damage had already been done. Suffering two great attacks even for an empire as big as ours was nothing simple, especially when one of the attacks was a surprise.

There hadn’t been new reports of the elves anywhere, however, I had a feeling that they were hiding and planning their next attack, and we needed to be prepared for that.

However, not with the current state of our military.

“A total of three thousand plus soldiers all around,” Aamir murmured, looking down at the scroll before him. “That won’t make a single dent if the elves were to attack again, considering how dedicated they were when they attacked last time. Besides, they’ve learnt our weaknesses just like we learnt theirs, which means we have to strategize all over and change tactics.”

“Dar Ma’al has the weakest link of soldiers,” Khalid said, his index finger tapping at the mark of the caliphate on the map. Khalid was my general. Unlike Aamir who always went where I went, Khalid stayed back at the weakest location and oversaw their training. Aamir sometimes acted more like my personal guard than my second. “This means that while we do know you just got married and needed a few weeks off with your wife, it can’t be. We need you. Because until you take over and show everyone how serious this is, they’ll keep lagging behind.” he finished.

Like Aamir, he had on a green thobe with loose fitting sirwal and a caftan with breastplates. Head wrapped in a checkered keffiyeh, and wore leather sandals. His waist was cinched with a belt holding a large sword, with a helmet protecting his head. The only difference with my dressing was the full golden armor I wore above my caftan.

“What can you give me in two weeks before I get back here?” I asked, shifting my attention back to the lieutenants. “I need to check all the caliphates now to be sure the soldiers aren’t a mess as they are here. So what can I expect to see in two weeks?”

Lieutenant Ashir cleared his throat before he began speaking. “We can only try, Sayyadi. But maybe a competition might help in flushing out new recruits and motivating others to try harder.”

“A competition?”

“Na’am, Sayyadi. You are yet to choose a Master of Sword after the death of the last one,” Daud joined, wincing a bit probably at the expression on my face. I still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he was gone. Dead by the sword of an elf. It was why I still hadn’t chosen one.

“I will not be choosing…”

“I think they are right,” Aamir cut in before I could finish. “Having an end goal is enough motivation. Plus everyone knows that you personally train the master, which is the wish of every soldier that has joined. The chosen soldier is also by your side all the time, which is another privilege.”

“Or a death mission,” I grumbled, clasping my hands tighter as my agitation increased. I wished Nurayn was here. I needed her. Wanted her comfort. Wanted her warmth. Sameer growled softly in my head, and I relished in the comfort of having him for a moment. I missed her. I missed her so much, and it hurt to know that she was hurting but wasn’t ready to share why with me yet. I didn’t like it. Not one bit. “I don’t want anyone to sign up for their death for some silly game.”

“It’s not silly though,” Khalid said quietly, his gaze pinned on me. “It is one of the greatest honors you have brought to us. Serving you, serving the sultan and the empire is something we do with great honor, just like you do. So let go of your guilt and embrace the uniqueness of your leadership, because no commander has done the things you have done, things you still do.”

See, I was not a big fan of sentimental speeches. I avoided them, unless, of course, we were going for a fight. It was why Khalid’s little speech took me by surprise.

But I knew he was right. And he knew that too, as well as the others around the table. We serve and fight for the empire with honor. And even though Master of the Sword was a position I made up a few years back as a form of motivation, it had become something every new recruit looked forward to becoming some day.

The idea of choosing one person for such a role had stemmed from my childhood memories.

“How about we do things a little bit differently this time?” I asked, relaxing a bit in the chair. “We have a master from each of the caliphates. Each acting like a representative of mine and the last one to stay by my side. That way, a lot of people will join since there are spaces to fill.”

They were all nodding by the time I was done speaking. “That is a great idea, Sayyadi. We chose a winner from all the caliphates, and the best will be your master, while the rest will act as representatives.” Aamir said.

“When shall it start?” Daud asked

“I need to ask the sultan for permission first. We proceed once it has been granted. I’ll also need to discuss it with the other lieutenants. But I want something tangible by the time the competition starts.”

“Na’am, Sayyadi,” both Daud and Ashir chorused, hands on their chests now. “We…”

Their words zoned out as a loud soulful growl came from Sameer outside. The tent wasn’t large enough for him and shrinking wasn’t a solution so he stayed outside.

‘I think something is wrong,’ he hissed.

‘What? Where? What is going on?’

‘Wife, Bilal. I think something happened. Since the bond is not fully formed, it is impossible to confirm what has happened but I felt it. Something is wrong…’

I was outside before he was done talking. Already mounting him by the time Aamir and the rest followed me.

“I need to go home,” I told them urgently. “I will be going to see the sultan in two days. I will send for a meeting with everyone once I have the go-ahead from him.”

Sameer had already leapt into the air as I heard their answering chorus.

I just hoped whatever it was wasn’t serious.