The Sandstorm King

by PioneeringAuthor

Chapter 9: Relief and Rethinking

Author's Note:

Dear Reader,

Do colored links and text distract you in this story?

I was going to see if using black-colored links would be better, but when I put the story to nighttime mode I couldn't even read it.

I do apologize if it's distracting, but as you can see I have very little colored text overall. If I made it with no color, it would be a default blue link. If I make it black, you can't see it on some format settings, like night mode.
Not all my stories will have background music like this because it is truly a lot of work to find fitting music as well as draw pictures, so I do hope you can overlook the colored text and enjoy the story.

--Turquoise Dreamer, the dreamer with a heart for others and a thousand stories to write ~+~

“Long live Afzal the Tactician! Long live Heydar the Great! Long live King Karam!” The citizens shouted as Afzal and Heydar returned a few weeks later.

“Look at them all… praising Afzal, Heydar, and King Karam…” Zahir noted from a balcony, watching the parade pass through the streets.

“Indeed, Zahir. It seems all is well,” Jinan sighed in relief.

“...Afzal and Heydar seem especially pleased with themselves,” Zahir remarked, closely watching Afzal and Heydar as they led the procession.

“What is wrong with that? They just saved the kingdom!” Qadir retorted, flapping his wings with a “snap”.

“...I was simply making a statement,” Zahir calmly replied.

“I should go to the stables--the troops will be coming in soon, and I must ensure they are all healthy,” Jinan remarked as he quickly trotted away.

“Afzal and Heydar always work so well together, don’t you think, Zahir?” Qadir added as Jinan walked away.

“Indeed, they do,” Zahir agreed, “... indeed…. They do.”

Later, Afzal and Heydar entered the throne room and bowed to Karam.

“We have crushed the rebels, and restored the sacred Halter of Fire to its proper shrine, Malik Karam,” Afzal declared with his grey Pony wings spread wide.

“It was nothing for us!” Heydar added, “And we are pleased to return home to serve you, My Malik.”

“Excellent,” Karam sighed, relieved it was over, “I… suppose you may… rest now.”

What exactly was one supposed to say after one’s troops returned home from crushing a rebellion? Karam certainly did not know.

“Malik Karam, if ever such an event happens again, do not hesitate to send us to the front lines once more!” Afzal suggested as he straightened up.

“Indeed, My Liege! All the soldiers I asked noted how skilled they both were-- ha ha! Those rebels did not stand a chance! We should have a feast to celebrate!” Ghayth guffawed in glee as he shook his scarred head in a pleased motion.

“Oh, we… yes, we should!” Karam agreed after a moment, attempting to relax while his wings fidgeted nervously.

“A small feast, yes? We did spend a bit more money than we wanted to on the fighting, after all, Sire,” Kalil suggested with a nervous chuckle.

“And we must clean the stables! The troops brought in so much sand--and some of their weapons still have dried blood on them! It’s horrific! Please, I beseech you, let us clean first!” Kamal begged, dusting off one of his white hooves as he spoke, shivering at the thought of all the grime and blood--oh how terrifying!

“Oh, well, of course! Do all that first, and then we can feast, in the evening, yes!” Karam declared, trying to sound sure of his own opinion.

That's what Father would do, right?
He was always certain of his own opinions.

Kalil and Kamal bowed and backed out of the room quickly to prepare everything.

“Ah, My Liege! If only you had been there! Ah, the fighting was so invigorating!” Ghayth laughed, standing a bit closer to Karam’s throne as he spoke, “Would you like to hear?”

Karam swallowed hard, afraid to hear but trying to sound like a rightful malik as he answered, “Oh… of course!”

Afzal cleared his throat and asked, “Do you have any tasks for Heydar and I before we leave, King Karam?”

“Oh.. no, not really--please do get plenty of rest,” Karam answered after thinking about it for a moment.

“In that case, Afzal and I shall take my leave and check on the troops once more, My Lord,” Heydar proposed as he straightened his war tack with his magic aura.

“Oh, go ahead! Certainly!” Karam allowed with a nod.

Heydar bowed and then politely backed out of the room, with Afzal following.

“Ghayth, please do not embellish the story too much now,” Afzal chuckled before the doors closed.

“Oh My Liege, it was thrilling!” Ghayth began, “Afzal sent a messenger giving the rebels three days to surrender--of course they did NOT surrender-- and we all met in the Sand Dragon Valley, our forces lined up, staring each other down….
Oh, one could hear a single gnat buzzing if one listened closely, there was such a quiet.
Afzal flew into the air, demanding the rebels surrender or face the consequences, and that leader of theirs-- Alborz-- walked a few paces forward and shouted, ‘Never! Aseb will be free once more!’ Of course all the rebels cheered at that, and seeing they would not surrender, Afzal gave the signal to attack!
“After that, our forces rushed at one another, and oh the fighting!
The fighting!
The shouting,
the stabbing,
the kicking,
the sand in the air,
the heat!
The sweat!
Oh it was so marvelous, My Liege!
Marvelous, and all the time there were Afzal and Heydar in the midst of it all, giving their enemies a thousand deaths, screaming “IN THE NAME OF THE TRUE KING” over and over! Oh, if only you had been there….”

Ghayth went on to tell all the details of the battles they endured, and how they found the Halter of Fire… but all Karam could think of was “oh the fighting,
the fighting!
The blood,
the death!
The screams!”

Noting how pale Karam looked, Ghayth stopped after a while and looked down at the ground.
His brown, scarred face twisted a bit in guilt as he realized the king he was talking to was really just… a teenager.

“... Perhaps… I was… a bit over-enthusastic, My Liege… Nevermind, please--I believe you get the picture in your mind perfectly well already,” Ghayth quietly added, sensing that Karam was getting nervously sick.

“gulp No, I… I thank you. It does sound… quite… exciting. I am glad you, Afzal and Heydar survived, and… we did not suffer… too many losses,” Karam replied, clearing his throat a few times.

For a moment, Ghayth’s mature war-scarred face studied Karam’s younger, accident-scarred face. Although Ghayth loved a battle, he also knew that Karam was young, and had a soft heart. In the harsh environment of the desert it was easy to lose one’s soft heart, but Karam still had his.
Knowing how challenging things were for Karam, Ghayth wanted to protect his king, and help keep his king’s heart soft…
for as long as Ghayth could.

“... My Liege, some, such as myself, were made for war.
We cannot help but love the thrill of battle.
Some, however, were not made for such gruesome adventures, and that is perfectly all right. Someone has to stay home and guard the throne and comfort those left behind, after all,” Ghayth soothed as his eyebrows furrowed in a fatherly way, “Your father did not enjoy fighting much either, from what I gathered.
I understand, My Liege. I won’t bore you with details of war anymore.”

“I--no, wait, I… well… thank you for understanding,” Karam sighed, unsure if he should feel guilty or relieved as his wings twitched nervously.

Ghayth smiled and nodded calmly. The understanding look on Ghayth’s features comforted Karam, assuring him it was perfectly all right to not enjoy death.

“I guess we should go greet the troops,” Karam noted, stepping out of the throne.

“I shall gladly accompany you, My Liege,” Ghayth piped up.

As Karam thanked the returning soldiers, and ensured that the wounded were recovering, he wondered if he was being a good king or not.
What Ghayth said rang true--somebeast had to stay behind while the troops left… and yet… maybe Karam should have been there with them. He had to grow up already and face the worst situations head-on, right?
That’s what a good king did, right?
Oh, what would his father do?
Karam wondered if his father would be pleased with him or not. Through the day, Karam replayed the various scenes in his mind--Ghayth’s words; the faces of the exhausted, yet jubilant troops; all his advisors; and wondered if he was responding properly. Perhaps he should practice not getting so queasy over battle stories--yes, he really should. That should make him more king-like.
After all… if he was going to rule Saddle-Arabia… he was going to be brave… and strong… like his father…
like his brother… yes.

Meanwhile…

“Afzal, you brought the troops home safely--excellent work,” Zahir congratulated the Pegasus with a smile.

“Why, thank you! It is my pleasure to eliminate our enemies and bring the troops home,” Afzal thanked with a small bow.

“The citizens were certainly enthusiastic, and King Karam seemed pleased,” Zahir added as he adjusted his formal, black tack that hung on his chubby, short Unicorn Pony frame.

“Indeed, they were. Of course, magnificent work demands magnificent praise, does it not? And I am glad that King Karam’s throne is safe and secure,” Afzal agreed, smoothly folding his wings after a stretch, “If you don’t mind, I have some things to attend to at the moment,” He excused himself.

Zahir nodded and watched him leave, studying every movement Afzal made.

“...hmmm…” Zahir mused, noted something in Afzal’s eyes.

“Zahir? Why do you have that look?” Jinan probed as he entered the hall after making some rounds.

“Afzal was just here… I have… thoughts…” Zahir half-explained out loud.

“...thoughts? Well whatever it is, you are probably worrying too much,” Jinan soothed, “Come, it is almost time to feast.”

Zahir nodded, quietly pondering.

He’s lying… but what exactly is he lying about?

---

"Heydar I still cannot believe you banished Daud instead of killing him!” Afzal hissed as they wandered late at night in the palace gardens.

“Well he wouldn’t die, and my mute spells weren’t working, so what else was I going to do?” Heydar snapped back as the moonlight highlighted his brown mane and tail, which almost blended in with his red-brown pelt, which looked almost black in the darkness.

“If Daud ever does return, you know what he’ll do, right? Kill us all! Or fight against his brother--and a civil war between two Alicorns would be far too much for the nation to survive! Then what will I rule, Heydar?”

“I told you: the last thing I told him was that Karam wanted him dead. If he doesn’t die in the desert, he’ll eventually convince himself it’s true--as for a civil war, I think we can survive it--Karam is far weaker than his brother and if poison took Khayri it can take Daud as well.”

“If it can do that… why did you not poison Daud too?” Afzal snapped, his wings flaring out angrily in the darkness, turning silver beneath the moon.

“I told you--the poison was hard to make, and I did not have enough left after killing Khayri! Did you not notice how tall that beast was? Killing him took almost the whole vial!” Heydar groaned with a roll of his golden eyes.

“What did you do with that vial, anyway?” Afzal whispered as he held up a wing to conceal their heads.

“I… am still uncertain,” Heydar hesitated as his ears folded down nervously.

“...STILL? I thought you found it by now!” Afzal stared at him in shock.

“Small vials can easily be lost,” Heydar attempted to defend himself but was cut off by Afzal with,
“ENOUGH… enough… let us calmly follow our plan. Already Karam is trusting us much more--that rebellion was a blessing for our favor. We showed how worthy we are of his confidence… but I feel that Avram knows something.”

“Do you suppose?” Heydar whispered back, “Or is he just being an old, worried, beast?”

“He always seems a bit tense around us these days--have you not noticed? I think he knows something,” Afzal explained while folding his wings down at his sides.

“Perhaps you are right…perhaps his God is telling him something... should I kill him too?” Heydar asked.

“No… not yet… not yet,” Afzal cautioned, “But be wary of him--him and Zahir.”