Recap
"You see, I am a hundred of these and more but most importantly, I am no one."
_________
Partings are as hard as punishment for they bring grief,
And death destroys peace of mind.
Sonnore Bingil
Nana Asma'u bint danFodiyo
1270 A.H, 1853 A.D
It was a show of regalias, Abu deemed, for he had seen the likes of such clothing that one night of which he had never seen the the sum of his entire life. A surprisingly many amount of people had graced the event, nobles and commoners alike. The King's liberality showing how truly pleased with the Prince he was. A task Abu's conscience checked off as a done task out of the many hundreds on his mind.
The atmosphere was open, a roofless clearing with multiple bonfires burning at short intervals and accompanying the moon to light up the dark. The wind was still, making the night so unlike one of the harmattan season that had domiciled in Indarari. Perhaps it too was in anticipation of this event and thus resfrained itself from flapping open cloaks and robes of guests and blowing harsh grains of sand on meals.
Abu was stunned at the pretense of the guests. They were chattering animatedly, drinking and dancing to the songs of music men and Abu wondered if it was pretense or were they really in all truth unaware of the war brewing outside the borders. He couldn't tell for them but no doubt, their king was surely fully aware and the hypocritical bastard was displaying his art of conciet. But no matter, Abu thought, Kallam was no match for the Foulah.
Music men joined the noise of the indistinct chatter and frenzied the night with the sound of the tune of blown horns and the beat of talking drums and piercing pitch of pesky praise singers who'll only leave once they've ensured you have a bloated head and empty pockets.
They especially hurdled around Muhammad Ala who stood as the cynosure of eyes; dressed impeccably in an ivory robe that gleamed with the stars, an exquisite sword that adorned the cummerbund around his waist and an ashen headpiece crowning his head and matching his majestic gait. Definitely worth the cause of the function.
"Your Highness."
"My Prince." Ala greeted and returned Abu's gesture, bowing likewise. "Your presence has flattered me, my Father as well."
Ala motioned to his father and Abu observed the King from the corner of his eyes. Kallam was a considerable distance away from them on a makeshift mud throne bedecked with plush cushions. He sat occupied by the Vizier and several other royal hands but still had his eyes on the two princes. Observing their exchange as if gawking his preys.
Abu bowed to the King from where he stood with Ala as courteously as he could muster, sure Kallam could spot him and witness him honouring the invite.
I am here. So now what next?
The depth of viridity in Abu's eyes seemed to have flashed at the King, scorning his smugness. Fear wasn't for people of Abu's build Kallam should have known that by now.
Owing to his tardiness, Abu hadn't witnessed much of the event which he was very grateful for, he had missed the nonsense of their pagan ramblings. Now all there was left to do was eat, which in all truth, he wasn't eager to either.
"I see your hands are empty? You haven't been served?" Ala immediately signalled to a maid who came rushing with a heavy tray in hand.
Abu took the calabash mug in his hands, weary of how he was to consume it since he couldn't expose his face and more so, weary of its milky contents. It might be a fermented drink. Alcohol. Impure. Forbidden.
"Drink My Prince, it is only a beverage of camel's milk and dates." Ala must've noticed the apprehension on Abu's face.
"Yes, Your Highness, it is but you see..." Abu trailed off and dropped the mug back unto the tray hoping Ala would understand the unsaid rest. "...I'm afraid I do not possess the appetite."
He couldn't eat nor drink in anyone's presence since he had to untie his turban and reveal his face for that. The last time anyone had seen his face uncovered was when he was only a boy of fifteen summers; before his ritual of passage, before he was a man.
"Very well." Ala had caught on to Abu and probed on the matter no longer and signalled the maid to leave.
He led Abu on a stroll, ignoring the ministers and nobles and wealthy merchants he was to host instead. They had to talk. It was his last night here. A pivotal moment for the both of them, Ala thought, this was it.
A look of skepticism had settled on Abu's face as he walked silently with the Prince. He had noticed Kallam's stare waver from them for moment so who was he to protest, perhaps Ala could tell when his father was too lax with his sorroundings to be suspicious of their wandering off.
"This may be the last time I see Father you know." Ala said after inhaling a deep breath. His tone wasn't at all grievous but in fact, relieved.
Abu but only nods, still apprehensive of the environment it seems. They had stopped where the noise of chatter had faded and become that of the stillness of the night and the light from the bonfire into the dark of night. But to Abu this wasn't enough cover to talk a matter of such covert magnitude.
"I pray it is." Ala adds.
"It will be Muhammad. I'll make sure of it, I give you my word." Abu finally spoke but in a whisper.
"And I do believe you but I fear demons do not perish so easily."
"Then you my friend, have a greater task at hand than I do." Abu squeezed Ala's shoulder as if prepping him to face the said monster; Ibrah.
"I can hardly believe there's anyone worse than my father but it seems I have no choice but to find out."
"And sadly, you must." Abu said with an image of his own father in his conscience, surely Ibrah was the demon Kallam could never be. Ala had to face him and infiltrate Razf like he himself has now infiltrated Indarari. "You must find out."
"Just like I must ask something of you Abubakar. I beg you to give me your word you will grant it." Ala said gravely, his expression pleading.
"I am sorry but I cannot give you my word if I do not know what it is." Abu answered after contemplating a while.
"What I want to ask, I fear you might not give me but I have no choice but to ask either ways and pray you will. Abubakar, I entrust her to you. She is the only jewel in my life, she is my sister Khadija. I will not be here during the siege, I will not be able to protect her, I beg you to do so on my behalf."
Abu was taken aback and it showed in the swift move he made towards Ala to make sure he heard what had been said right. Surely he was wrong, Ala couldn't ask of such a thing. It was treason. Well more treason than they were already involved in. Treason to those they were both truly serving, the Foulahs.
This sister Ala had mentioned Abu didn't have trouble identifying. He already knew she was the falling girl with flowing robe, the girl with the horse and the necklace. But he didn't know her name was Khadija, he only now discovered it for his conscience had since that encounter named her Green Oasis.
"What are you trying to say Muhammad?" Abu spoke up, hoping he had truly heard it wrong.
Ala breathed heavily, he too felt the gravity of what he asked dragging down his feet but his emotions had the better of him. They had been throwing tantrums in want of Khadija's safety ever since he was assigned this task and today, being the last day he could assure that, he had failed to supress them.
"Gobir, you are to ensure that Khadija does not get sent there." Ala said.
"And how am I to do that?" Abu was still in disbelief.
He thought if there was one person who understood his struggle to get to where he was today, to get to the impossible status of being a Tuareg prince trusted by the Foulahs and being used as a spy in a plot to conquer Indarari, it would be Ala since he was subjected to the exact same situation except he was to do so in Razf. But here Ala was, requesting that he throw all that away so easily.
"I myself am not sure but I beg of you to at least prolong her stay here, I'll handle everything myself from when I come back. I just need her to be here when I do." Ala's pleas grew relentless.
"And again Muhammad, I'll have to ask, how am I to do that? You very well know how it was hard enough to make those Foulahs agree to exile our family to Gobir instead of execute them so how am I to make them-"
Ala was swift to interrupt, teeth clenched in determination. "Listen Abubakar, I will not go on with this if I do not have guarantee of her safety. And you know the complications of that on us both."
Ala had clearly resorted to threats, he knew all along that Abu wasn't going to agree so easily. He as always was too adamant on sticking to Madu's safe side but that wasn't to say that Abu was cowardly for he was the most fearless man Ala had ever known, Abu was just cautious and thorough on making everything go as it should. This was after all the first mission he was ever tasked with.
He was proving to be too loyal to the people who, if Abu had only known, had only granted him this task not for their trust in him but for the assurance that when and if he fails and turns out to be a traitor, they wouldn't have to deal with him, the Hausas would do it for them since he was now helplessly in their midst.
Abu couldn't see any of that for he was too blinded by the high this honor, as he termed it, had brought to him. They who he had night and day toiled to acquire an iota of their trust had granted him of such a massive opportunity and thus finally accepted his oath of allegiance to them and their cause. The whole of the Sudan would fall under the Foulahs, under one Caliph's command, under one Faith's rule, under the reign of Islam and only Islam.
Abu had been lost not long ago, his spirit battered by his brothers and father and despairing in darkness contemplating the possibilities of him survivng three more suns without ending his misery by ending his own life. It was then that the Foulah Revolt had sprouted. Abu figured he was going to die soon and it was inevitably by his own hands so why not die in the course of this instead and make the very people he had long awaited to end fall with him?
He had already forsaken that land and his people eons ago and was only residing their in body but never in soul so he would and would do it a hundred times over, sell his Kingdom to the Foulahs. But as payment, he had asked something to him that was more precious than money. A safe passage to Timbuktu. Where a younger him had once lived and discovered there that he could never be what was sought after in a son of Ibrah. He was but only a ghost meant to live in the shadows forever. At eighteen summers, he had left that great city but left his spirit there. Now, all he wanted was to after it and claim it again. The best moments of his life await him there.
But Ala's reck of emotions knew not and cared not of all that and threatened to ruin his only chance at that. They had just placed him between a rock and a hard place and Abu knew then, accepting Ala's request was a much softer rock than the hard place Ala's threat would put them in.
Though, unwilling, Abu had made his decision. "I'll see what I can do to ensure your sister does not get sent there Muhammad. You will come back victorius from claiming Razf and meet her here."
"I want you to promise me, give me your word Abubakar." Ala had perceived it too good to be true. If it had only taken one threat to break Abu, he needed a promise to believe him.
"I give you my word."
The stars and the moon, the wind and the sands as well all witnessed a vow sealed that night and a promise etched on the stone that was Abu's heart.