The Lone Call: Fists of Union (Arc II) [First draft]

*Interlude #3*

*Mustafa*

"With all due respects, Sire... your father--to use his own words--demands your presence and that of Sir Vlos at the throne room."

So said a servant as he bowed.

The current Lord Hospodia and Vlos exchanged knowing glances.

"Any other attendants there?" the former asked, rather cautiously.

"Ladies Leia and Kynara, as well as Lord Rashid, have all been summoned."

"You may leave."

The attendant bowed again, retreated three steps, and, being a vampire, disappeared in a puff of bluish smoke.

"The inevitable showdown," Mustafa breathed. "Wish it could've come in a more pleasant manner."

"Then again," Vlos added as they began making their way to said room, "are you sure Rashid is the proper alternative? Male he might be, but taking seniority into account, there is still Leia--and she might well cite your wife's previous example of female rule."

"Let her. Good thing my own children are being seen to, as well; Brista can be very demanding. And what do you think, Cousin? You had some hand in uniting this empire, now help me preserve it--please!"

"Do you seriously think, Mustafa, that my say will have greater weight than that of Uncle's? He is, to be fair, the last of the generation that had seen Husnir alive. He might well cite some other succession rules that we all failed to notice, careful as we have been to preserve them."

Mustafa shook his head slowly. "Husnir brought us together--that was what he'd cared to say every time he was asked on that matter. Unspeakable things must have been done by this Husnir that my father is reluctant, even now, to make clear... and indeed, it's not like we can force him to, now, can we?"

Vlos recalled some of the passages in Husnir's journals that he had had the chance to peruse, and silently nodded. Mustafa took it for acceptance to his present question.

"It's no easy thing to be a ruler, huh?" Vlos tried again, to break the silence. "To think I was this eager to become ruler after my late father... I was of Dista's age then, I seem to recall."

"Oh, you've missed nothing, Cousin. Seriously." Mustafa halted, spreading his arms in a gesture of resignation. "Here now, just look at me. Look at what I have become, twenty-eight years into my rule. Overseer to a mighty empire, perhaps; united, respected, feared even... but with potential successors already bickering in my lifetime..."

Vlos patted his cousin on the shoulder. "Don't despair so. We might yet find a way out. If nothing else proves possible... well, perhaps my time to take the reins of this House has indeed come at last."

Mustafa looked up, hopeful. "To hand you the reins when everything has begun to go in flames, however... I wouldn't want that, under normal circumstances. Comes off as cowardly."

"Nonsense," Alista's only son assured. "You have done your best for this empire, and it had not been without challenges. Yet here you are, o Dragon Tamer, passing or eliminating whatever had stood in your way and now entrusting what you have believed and striven for to one with the right to bear it. As I have never betrayed your father, so I will not betray your trust."

"I pray so."

***

*Ishtar*

"Mama, please wait up!" the boy called with a touch of anxiety, but she refused to slow down. "Forgive me if I had it wrong, I just want you to reconsider making peace with Uncle... Mama!"

"What?" Kisara halted abruptly, but did not yet deign to turn and meet her son's pleading gaze. "'Making peace', did you say, Ish?"

"Yes... please. Forgive him. You're siblings, aren't you? You told me to do the same with Dista, and we don't quarrel... well, not too often..."

The princess exhaled, turned to face him, and lowered herself to his height while cupping his teary face in one hand.

"Have you perhaps forgotten my defeat, Ishtar, before and after which you and your father were forced into incessant hiding? Have you?"

"No, Mama, but... it was already three years ago, you see." A tear rolled down his face and on to her cupping hand. "Granddad Mustafa had seen it fit to pardon you anyway, so what's the harm?"

"The harm," she repeated in a flat tone, "was that realization that I could have won, had the provincial overseers' troops that had agreed to reinforce me, not gone to your uncle's side instead, just minutes before the actual battle. That gave the appearance of my being a traitor, facing off against my father's loyal mubarizuns! True, Lord Hospodia had pardoned me in the end--but the very fact that he'd sent that elite corps to back someone without a shred of knack in rule was simply... beyond my wildest expectations!"

"But... but please, can you just put such things behind you now, Mama? We are together again, and I hope not to see another clash between our relatives... Oh..."

Kisara realized that her son was crying with her. She let go of the boy's face and slowly wiped his tears, before standing and doing the same to herself.

"Alright, my dear Ishtar, point taken. So long as he does not provoke me, I shall reciprocate. Funny how you mentioned it, for that was exactly how your grandmother had lectured us just now..."

As he saw his mother going away through the spacious main corridor with an inscrutable expression, Ishtar Husniris could not help wondering if his own relations with Dista might not turn sour as adults... and if by then there would still be a Hospodia to fight for.