Words of Swords

2 . 2

In the dark of night, bare feet splattered into potholes as they ran across them. It was raining torrents and thunder rumbled after lightning struck somewhere far away sparing his sight with a flash of light that only lasted a fraction of a second. It wasn't enough, he still could barely make out his way but he just had to keep going and not waste time on caution. He was running for dear life after all, his dear brother's life.

He slammed into wooden doors and shoved them open, rendering the locks and bolts broken. Every step of his left puddles of water in its wake as he hurried to the bed that looked to contain a figure sprawled in peaceful slumber.

He let out a sigh, Hali was only asleep. The letter and his suspicions had all been false. No harm was looming over his brother and certainly no danger was on his life.

Relieved and stunned by his sporadic actions and baseless paranoia, he turned quietly, careful not to disturb Hali's sleep and walked to the bursted doors. But just as he reached the thresholds, something stopped him and he could feel it tugging at his tunic as well as his heart. It only released him when he brought himself to a stop and walked back to his brother's bed.

"Halidu?" he gently nudged Hali's shoulder wanting to wake him up.

"Halidu!" gentle nudges had transformed to violent shakes and whispers amplified into screams but Hali remained unmoving until finally, Hali's head slumped over to reveal an almost dry, white residue of something that looked to have bubbled out from his mouth.

"Halidu!" thunder rumbled but this time from the depth of the roar that came out of his lips and lightning struck but this time it shot through the veins that squeezed at his heart as he was startled to a jolt and his brain shocked his whole body to arise in cold sweat.

It was only a dream.

A nightmare of the past rather, Muhammad Ala corrected his thoughts as he propped himself up unto the headboard of his bed and tried to steady the uneven breaths caused by the waves of spasm that had overtaken him.

A headache was hacking his brain into pieces and neither his throbbing back nor parched throat were of help. He stretched his hand and reached for the jug of water on the cupboard. He gulped down half of its contents in no time and poured the remaining on his face wishing for it to calm his quaking nerves.

But nothing could.

It was in moments like this that he realised joining with the Foulah wasn't a risk of much magnitude, living like this was a much more greater risk. Even if he would end up suffering the same fate as his brother, it was better that he stake his life on a stick courageously instead of living in royal comfort and cowering before his father. He had done that for far too long now.

Kallam had ruled his life and dominated him for the whole of his life. What he would do once he figures his own son, his Muhammad was behind the siege -- when Abu inevitably carries it out -- Ala would done anything to witness. He wanted to see what other names the King would curse at him instead of his ususal "worthless" or "disgrace". He wanted to see how he would react knowing, even if it had been with stealth and betrayal, that same son had had the heart to battle his own father and overthrow his own kingdom.

But perhaps he couldn't. Perhaps he won't be able to do it once he was face to face with his father which was what made the Foulah's plan perfect. To prevent any second thoughts, any change in priorities and emotions that could sway them from their purpose, a swap in position was proposed. Ala would take Razf while Abu would take Indarari.

"Simple" Madu had exclaimed in light of his eureka moment.

"But Sire, I see not how that is remotely possible." Ala countered.