Yousif said nothing for several minutes. Then, "I'm going to concede the initiative again. We'll keep up the patrols and ambushes, but avoid contact most of the time. We'll stall. Concentrate on surviving. Try to lure them into a debilitating siege of the Eastern Fortress. Aboud is old. He's got the gout. He can't live forever. I talked to Farid. He's on our side. He'll be less sedentary. He can see the shape of things. He'd give us what we need if he wore the Crown."
But neither fate nor Nassef would play the game according to Yousif's wishes. In the year after Wadi el Kuf Yousif's men seldom saw their enemies. They could not be found even when hunted. Nassef seemed to have forgotten that el Aswad existed. With the exception of the patrolled zone immediately before the mouth of Sebil el Selib, security and peace reigned in the Wahligate.
The quiet drove Yousif and Fuad to distraction. They worried constantly. What did the silence mean?
Haroun and Radetic went on their first fieldtrip in almost two years. Megelin wanted to look for rare wildflowers. His search took them into a canyon which meandered deep into Jebal al Alf Dhulquarneni.
Haroun worried about offending the Hidden Ones. He tried to mask his nervousness behind uncharacteristic chatter. That generally took the form of trying to get Radetic to illuminate the enemy's behavior.
Exasperated, Radetic finally growled, "I don't know, Haroun. The Sword rules the Word these days. And Nassef is a big unknown. I can't begin to guess his motives, let alone predict his moves. One minute he looks like El Murid's most devoted follower, the next like a bandit looting the desert, and a second after that he seems to be a man quietly finagling himself an empire. All I can say is wait. He'll make everything painfully clear someday."
One painful piece of news had sullied a restful winter. El Murid had appointed Nassef commander of the Invincibles for a period of five years. Spies said that the Scourge of God had launched an immediate purge, that Nassef was redesigning the bodyguard to his own specifications.
The Sword apparently mastered the Word completely now.
Nassef's campaign plans became less murky once Haroun and Radetic returned to el Aswad. They were given no chance to recuperate from the hardships of the trail. Guards hustled them directly to the Wahlig.
"Well, he's finally made a move, Megelin," Yousif declared as they approached. "He's shown his hand. And it was the last thing anybody expected."
Radetic dropped gingerly to a cushion. "What did he do?"
"All that strength he's been gathering? That's been piling up so fast our spies figured he was going to take a stab at us this summer? He used it to attack to the east."
"The east? But—"
"Souk el Arba has fallen already. He's besieging Es Souanna. His riders have reached Ras al Jan. Souk el Arba didn't resist. They sent a committee to welcome him. Our agents say our cousins on the coast are tripping over each other they're so eager to join him. He's promising everybody the loot of Al Rhemish and the Inner Provinces."
"In other words, the east has decided its future lies with El Murid."
"They've had a lot of time to preach there. And to make deals. Aboud hasn't done much to hold their loyalties. In fact, I expect Throyes to cut us off completely now."
The only way Al Rhemish could reach its eastern supporters was by using the same narrow, northern pass which gave desert merchants access to Throyes. The Throyens were racially and linguistically akin to the Children of Hammad al Nakir, but had not recognized an external suzerainty since the Fall. The city had been founded as a naval and mercantile port by Ilkazar.
There had been no fighting for years, but the city still claimed territories on the northern shores of the east coast. Since Sebil el Selib Throyes had been nibbling away at the lands Aboud had reconquered in his youth. The Royal lines of communication now had to pass through areas patrolled by unfriendly troops.
"I imagine they'll occupy in earnest as soon as they hear what's happened," Radetic agreed. "How strong a garrison did Nassef leave? Did El Murid go with him?"
"Fuad's checking it now."
Fuad was doing more than checking. He was conducting el Aswad's first assault on the pass in years. His initial progress report arrived early next day.
Haroun came to drag Radetic out of his quarters. "Come on, Megelin! Uncle Fuad took them by surprise. Get up! Father needs you."
Radetic rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Fuad did what?" He began to dress, donning desert-style clothing. The last of his own western garb had gone to rags years earlier. "Never going to get used to this women's wear," he muttered. "Maybe I should have something sent out. Bah. That would make it too easy for assassins to find their target."
"Come on!" Haroun bubbled. "He surprised them. He got through their picket lines and cut them off so nobody knew he was coming. He caught them working in their fields and killed a whole lot. Come on. Father needs to know what you think we should do."
Haroun could not stop jabbering. He revealed most of Yousif's surprise before he and Radetic located the Wahlig in the parapet of the tower on the north wall. Yousif was staring northward, toward Sebil el Selib.
With a mixture of luck, planning and cunning, Fuad had outmaneuvered El Murid's patrols and had broken into Sebil el Selib. He had killed or captured hundreds before the survivors could seal up the two fortresses, and had killed and captured hundreds more afterward, because in their panic the gatekeepers had locked them out. Fuad and the survivors were trading stares over the walls of the castles. Fuad did not have the strength to storm either. While he awaited advice from home he was destroying everything he could. He expected Nassef to send help soon. He wanted to leave the enemy nothing when he withdrew.
"What do you think we should do, Megelin?" Yousif asked.
"Send for help. Especially to Prince Farid. Explain the situation. Tell him that if he hurries we have a chance to cut them off on the coast. That might be as good as killing them."
"I've done that. I was thinking in more direct terms. What can we do up there? While we're waiting for Farid and Nassef?"
Radetic considered. "I'd have to see the fortresses myself. I might notice a weakness you've overlooked."
The western style of warfare was more given to castles and siegework than that of Hammad al Nakir. The men of the desert were inclined to run away when outnumbered rather than to retreat into a fortress. Most of the extant fortifications were Imperial hand-me-downs weak from long neglect.
"You can join me, then. I'm leaving in an hour. Taking every man who can hoist himself onto a horse."
"Father?"
Yousif eyed his son. He knew what the boy wanted, but made him ask anyway. "What, Haroun?"
"Can I go? If Megelin does?"
The Wahlig glanced at Radetic, who said, "It's all right with me if it's all right with you."
"Go get your things, son."
Haroun left with the excitement of a small whirlwind. Radetic observed, "It's time he got a glimpse of the realities."
"That's why I told him he could go. He accused me of letting Ali have all the fun this morning. I want him to see that Ali isn't enjoying himself."
"How much more muscle can you give Fuad?"
"Not much. Maybe three hundred men."
"Hardly enough."
"Then hope that my messengers get lucky."
Two days later Megelin saw Sebil el Selib for the first time. He was surprised. He had been hearing about it for eight years. He had built a mental picture that only vaguely resembled reality.
"How easy it is to destroy," he told Haroun. "You see what your uncle has done? In a few days he's undone the labor of years."