A Dragon's Heart

20.

BILAL.

“I do not take it lightly when my wife is being disrespected.” I wasn't sure who I was addressing, but I was past caring right now. No one has the right to disrespect her that way.

Absolutely no one! Not even the sultana!

I loved the way she responded to the sultana, and she was absolutely right. I was well taken care of and that's without the full mate bond intact. But I'd be toast before I stood by and let anyone disrespect her any further.

‘EXACTLY! But can you imagine how much better we will be taken care of when we have the mate bond fully intact? You're even more of a goner...heck, I'm already a goner. I mean, since SHE brought up her physique, Mate did look…’

‘Not NOW SAMEER.’ I snapped.

"Respect is earned, Qa'id, not threatened," Sadrazam Abu Habil, the Grand Vizier and my least favorite member of the majlis, voiced his opinion. “You have the power, not her. She needs to command it, to earn it.”

I turned to face him, my fists balled tightly beside me as Sameer huffed. “Do not take that tone with me, Sadrazam.”

It may be the tone I used, or perhaps the fury he could sense emanating from me, but he moved, settling back in his chair.

“Need I remind you all here, that excluding the sultan, I hold enough power to ruin you if you tamper with what is mine. In this case, my wife,” I said, keeping my voice quiet, yet loud enough to make emphasis on what I was saying. “I hope that for your sake, you choose your words carefully next time before you say them to my wife. This is the one and only warning I am giving.”

“Bilal…”

The sultan raised his hand, cutting off the sultana from speaking. More than anyone, her words towards Nurayn had hurt the most, especially because I’d always held her in high regards, only to have her try to insult my wife. What had everyone taken this morning?

‘I could do with a bite of fresh meat. Just say the word and I’ll have an arm off for starters,’ Sameer growled.

‘I am hoping my words are enough. Because the next time they try something like this, my fist and your fire would do the talking.’

‘Damn right! Do you think she’s okay?’

Okay? How could anyone be okay after something like this? I only stayed back because it looked like she needed space, and moreso, because I wanted to make my stance clear when it came to my wife. I would take nothing less than the respect she deserved. Be her a dragon or wolf. Whatever the case may be, she’s mine. My wife.

My Nurayn.

‘I think so?’

'Here's what we are going to do. I’ll be leaving you here, while I go after her and take care of her before your return. That way…’

‘Keep your ass right there, Sameer. We have an empire to serve.’

‘Come on!,’ he whined. ‘I was merely trying to help so…’

The sultan’s loud booming laughter cut through my thoughts and Sameer’s unfathomable idea.

“This is why you are my Qa’id,” he smiled fondly. “Our women are an important part of our power dynamics,” he continued, “and once a man knows how to value his woman, then he can conquer everything and everyone. Our women are a part of us,” he took the sultana’s hand in his and smiled again, “and regardless of what power we hold, they hold equal amounts of it, too. You have every right to be pissed at the welcoming she got, which is why I am going to ask you for a favor.”

“There are no favors between us, Sultan. All you have to do is command and I shall obey,” I answered, keeping my head down as I felt the rage slowly slipping away.

“I know, but this is a favor I need. Let me properly welcome your wife to the sultanate. Whether she is a wolf or a dragon, she is a part of us now that she is your wife, and she deserves a fitting welcome.”

Wasn't there supposed to be a ceremony tomorrow already?

“Do I have your permission?”

Confused, I asked. “My permission?”

Unless…

“Yes. Your permission to make your wife part of the women majlis with the sultana.”

Sultan Abdu Khalyd bn Fodio was nothing but a calculating, wise sultan. If he’s offering Nurayn a seat in the women's majlis, it meant one thing. He is telling me it is not time yet. It is not time to show my cards openly to others. My reaction to how she was treated was enough slip for the hawks watching to find my weakness. To slip in.

Damn!

What had I done?

I swallowed, and for the first time since I got to the majlis, I locked eyes with the sultan, and I saw it all. The mistake of openly showing my card.

You see, I did not care for people to know how much I wanted my wife. How much she meant to me. What I did care about was making her an easy target for those waiting to get to me.

‘I don't care what card we show by protecting her dignity. It can be a gaping hole for anyone waiting to attack, but whoever messes with her gets my fire. I swear it.’ Sameer seethed, and from the sultan’s expression, I was sure he heard it.

But this wasn't the right place or time to enforce my belief, so I did what a good leader is supposed to when ambushed. I re-strategize.

“Laa, Sultan. She prefers to stay back home. I appreciate the gesture, and I apologize for overstepping my boundaries as well. Ana asef jiddan.”

I was not about to throw her to the hungry hawks. Not until she was ready. And not until she's familiar with everything around.

The sultan watched me for a few minutes before nodding with a wide smile, then turned his head away, waved his hand as the majlis scroll man appeared.

“Gift the Qa’id’s wife five dirhams of gold and three camels. Accept this as an apology from the majlis, my sultana, and I as well, Qa’id.”

“Shukraan, Sultan.”

“Now, let's proceed with the official duties,” he commanded, that royal aura returning in mere seconds.

I took my seat in the middle of the two majlis divisions, with Sameer’s towering figure behind me. One division followed everything the sadrazam wanted. While the other opposed anything he said. Even when he was right.

The majlis was divided into two fractions, each with an agenda of their own. And each tried to persuade me to join them, but I refused. I am a qa’id, and that is all I wanted. I had no interest in any of their political shenanigans.

I reported the situation with the troops, and their lack of morale

“We are at risk right now, especially if the dark elves choose to attack at this moment. They are getting closer to the border from the reports I’ve been getting. No idea if they plan to advance even closer just yet. But just in case, we need to remain prepared.”

“What can we do to help? We need the soldiers motivated, Qa’id.” the sultana said.

“I was thinking of choosing a new Master of the Sword. But I want to do things differently, with the sultan’s permission, of course.”

“What is it?”

“Instead of choosing a single sword master, I think I will choose one from each caliphate, and make one of them their leader. They will be like a special set of soldiers. As always, we will select them through a competition.”

“What is the point of choosing one from each caliphate?” the sadrazam asked.

“To boost the competition. A lot of men will sign up to join us for a chance to hold the title. Aside from new recruits, I plan to include the already recruited soldiers so they’ll have something to look forward to.”

The sultan nodded, visibly in support of my idea.

“Are we to choose a representative from each of our caliphates?” One of the men asked. “I mean, I can have my nephew represent…”

“The competition will be just and fair, Abu Maher. You already know me.”

The man, who was sitting close to the sadrazam, swallowed and nodded. He was a Gorian, just like me. A sleazy, scheming, power hungry man.

“Yes, yes. Of course. I just thought…”

“I will visit all the caliphates before I decide when the competition starts. Everyone that wishes to join can participate, and we drop people as we go until we come to the last six standing. One from each caliphate, Sultan,” I finished, cutting the man off. “I should have everything ready to kick off soon. I am to meet with the general in two weeks to get a report on the soldiers we have now, but now that we have this competition, I will go see him as soon as I leave the capital. We need to start the competition as soon as possible.”

The sultan sighed. “You have my permission. See to it that all costs for the betterment of our army is granted, Sadrazam.”

“Naa’am, Sultan.”

“I have a disturbing report from Dar Al Kinan,” Abu Salaf, one of the members of the sadrazam’s division suddenly said. He looked worried, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening.

“We’ve captured two men performing dum sihr,” he added, and the entire majlis went quiet.

Blood magic, I thought. Punishable by death when captured practicing. That was not all. Dum sihr was prohibited in the sultanate for a reason. To perform a magic like that, you needed to be in contact with an Ifrits. They are stronger than jinns. More powerful. More deadly. Being in contact with them meant you give a part of yourself in exchange for powers, sworn through blood. And the magic was effective, especially when looking to ruin someone.

“This is the third time we are capturing men attempting it,” the man added, scratching his keffiyah, as though itchy.

“And you are only reporting it now?” the sadrazam snapped.

“I thought the caliph had it under control. When I reported to him, he said he’d make sure it ends there. But in two days, we’ve captured two others.”

“Have any idea what they gave up to get the ifrits to help?” I asked.

“None of them have spoken yet. Before I left for the majlis this morning, a report came that the first man captured died.”

“What?” Different voices echoed. “How?”

Abu Salaf shook his head. “No idea for now. But he was being tortured to mention why he sought out the ifrits and what he gave. According to the report, he laughed, and told them they were wasting their time before he started to gag. He died before they could get the healer.”

This could only mean one thing. The man gave himself in exchange for whatever it was he needed the ifrits for.

“Any more reports on this in any of the caliphates?” The sultan asked.

“Laa, Ya Sultan,” all the rest chorused.

“I will see the royal guards once I leave here,” I said.

“Notify the other caliphates on what is going on, and have them report directly to the capital if anything of such happens,” the sultan commanded the sadrazam.

“Naa’am, Ya Sultan.”

“We’ll meet again tomorrow morning before the welcoming ceremony. Everyone is dismissed except for Qa’id,” he commanded again.

The sadrazam looked like he wanted to say something more, but decided not to. Instead, he locked eyes with me, and smiled one of those crooked smiles of his I hated before turning and leaving, his puppet officials following behind him as everyone filed out, and I remained in the majlis, with the sultan and sultana.

“Didn't you hear me say everyone, Sultana?”

“I have to leave too?”

“Yes. This is a discussion between my subject and I. I will see you soon as I am done here.”

She said nothing as she stood up and left through the back door, her maid flanking after her.

The sultan chuckled. “Women. They make us do things we can't fathom, don't they?” He asked quietly, “just like you did a while back.”

“Ya Sul…”

“That was a dangerous move, Bilal. I am a man, and a husband, and I understand exactly how you must have felt in that moment. But didn't you think it was a deliberate attempt to see if you’d slip? You never slip before any of them, because that is all they are looking for.”

He was right. I knew that. But then again, I couldn't stand and watch anyone disrespect my wife.

“I am not saying you shouldn't do your best to protect her. She is your wife, after all, and it is only valid that you do everything in your power to protect her. At all costs. But when you show all your cards, when you let them know how important she is to you, then it becomes easier to get you both.”

Again, I knew he was right. But like I said before, the c***k could get bigger for all I care.

“Would you have stayed still if the sultana was the one insulted?” He said nothing at that and simply regarded me.

After a while, he chuckled. “You got me there, Bilal,” then he stood up, and stepped down the dias. He stopped before me, tapped my shoulders, and smiled down at me. “But a leader always knows how to play his cards. Remember that the next time you let them under your skin. And I am sure the sultana didn't mean anything bad by her comments. You know she considers you like her son, and is probably just looking out for you in her own way. Don't let her words get to you.”

Too late, I thought as I watched him leave the majlis. The sultana is already in my dark book now.

No one messes with my wife. No matter how powerful they think they are.