The Lone Call, vol. 1 [under revision]

(S1) Move 8: Bloodlines

[D-3]

No sooner did Lord Hospodia leave the prayer room that midday, that a courtier approached him and whispered something, to which the amir nodded. The courtier was then silently dismissed, and Ingeras resumed on his way to the throne room.

As he did so, the amir began again to recall the day of his departure from Arenda to, in his own words, "be at the head of the greatest fath in a lifetime".

He also remembered marching at the head of his top field commanders through Arenda Palace's main passageway that led to the inner courtyard--all the while passing between double rows of advisors and ministers--before a little figure made him halt all of a sudden.

No words had as yet been exchanged. Ingeras and the figure stood face to face, one briefly looking down at the other.

'Have you nothing to say to me, son?' he had asked. The little figure had shaken his head, smiling.

'Go freely, Dad, and return safely. May your dreams be fulfilled. Our prayers are with you.'

'Amen. How thoughtful of you.'

Ingi had then offered his right hand; the boy had taken it and put his nose on to it with deference. The same hand had then been used to pat the kid's head--he who had promised to show the amir "something bright" if and when the latter should return--whereupon Lord Hospodia's gaze had met that of his lady wife.

'I entrust you with him,' he had said.

'I entrust you to Allah,' had come the sweet reply. 'Go, dear husband, and may your ventures be allowed to succeed.'

Thus assured, the amir had resumed his walking again, stopping next on the steps to the courtyard while surveying his arrayed land forces and siege equipment. He took a moment to gaze up at the sky in silent prayer.

Now, slightly over fifty days later, he was master of two cities, preparing to attempt two simultaneous trade agreements at his brother's instigation. How people back home had wondered! How rumors must have abounded!

At the head of attempts to cope with such thrill and rumors, Lord Hospodia mused, was a lad of eight years and his lady mother; surrounded by a bunch of advisors who, in the absence of a strong leading figure, might well have a go towards the unthinkable.

Not until the amir was properly done with the ceremonies here, that he could begin to safeguard those closer to his heart and mind.

***

"Gracious, Ingeras, you really should try to do something with these daydreaming tendencies! Make sure to get some treatment before darting back to that wench, will you?"

"Eh... what? Urdin, when did you--"

It was then that the amir realized he hadn't yet reached the throne room; instead he was going through the wrong corridor, the one heading to his brother's study.

Urdin sighed with a touch of frustration.

"Good thing I'm finished with the reports. Might as well hear them out here, sir, if you wish."

"No, no... I'm fine. Let's just head back to the throne room, you lead the way."

"Seriously..."

Retracing their steps, the two brothers now began to head to their proper destination.

"Do take my advice on that treatment bit, Ingeras. If this goes on, it'd only be a matter of time before you are shunned for incompetence, when you're not! Think of your kid as well."