The evening wind carried with it the faint sound of whispers, as if the desert itself conspired to share its secrets. Rashid sat in the grand tent of Sheikh Malik, the relic resting on the wooden table between them. It glowed faintly, its light pulsing in rhythm with Rashid's heartbeat.
Malik poured steaming tea into two small cups, his weathered hands steady despite the tension in the air. Around them, the sounds of the Khari camp filled the space clinking armor, murmured conversations, and the soft cries of camels in the distance.
"This relic," Malik began, his voice low and reflective, "is more than a mere artifact. It is a symbol of our unity, yes, but it is also a beacon. Mansa Musa will know you possess it, and he will not allow it to remain in your hands for long."
Rashid sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him like a calming balm. "Let him come," he said, his tone resolute. "We are no longer scattered tribes or factions. Together, we are a force he will not underestimate."
Malik studied him for a moment, his piercing gaze searching for any trace of doubt. "You speak with the confidence of a leader, Rashid. But leadership is not just about courage it is about sacrifice. The Khari tribes will fight for you, but their lives are now tied to your decisions. Do not take this burden lightly."
Rashid nodded, the weight of Malik's words settling over him like a heavy cloak. "I understand, Sheikh Malik. Every choice I make carries a cost. But I will not waver."
Before Malik could respond, the tent flap was pulled aside, and Faruk entered, his expression grim. "Rashid, we've received word from our scouts. There's movement near the eastern border. A small detachment of Mansa Musa's forces is advancing."
Rashid's grip tightened around the teacup, his mind racing. "How many?"
"Fifty, maybe sixty men," Faruk replied. "It's a small force, likely a reconnaissance team. But their presence so close to the Khari lands is troubling."
Malik rose from his seat, his jaw set. "Mansa Musa is testing us. He wants to see how we respond whether we will scatter like grains of sand or stand firm."
Rashid stood as well, his posture firm. "We cannot let them gain a foothold here. If we allow them to linger, they will send word back to Mansa Musa, and he will bring his full force upon us."
Faruk nodded. "What are your orders?"
Rashid's mind worked quickly, piecing together a plan. "We'll confront them, but not with brute force. If they're a scouting party, they'll be expecting a direct attack. Instead, we'll use the desert to our advantage."
He turned to Malik. "Your tribes know this land better than anyone. Can we set traps along their path?"
Malik's lips curved into a faint smile. "You think like a warrior of the sands, Rashid. Yes, we can lay ambushes. The dunes will conceal our movements."
Rashid placed a hand on Faruk's shoulder. "Gather a small team of our best soldiers. This is not a battle it's a message. We need to show Mansa Musa's forces that they are not welcome here."
Faruk saluted and left the tent, his footsteps brisk and purposeful.
The Ambush
The desert night was eerily quiet, the stars above casting a cold, silver light over the dunes. Rashid crouched behind a ridge, his sword at his side and his eyes fixed on the faint glow of torches in the distance.
The enemy forces moved slowly, their formation tight as they navigated the treacherous sands. Rashid's small team was spread out across the ridge, hidden beneath camouflage crafted from desert shrubs and cloth.
Malik was beside him, his spear resting lightly in his hand. "They're cautious," the sheikh murmured. "But caution will not save them."
Rashid signaled to the others, and the ambush began.
A sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by a volley of arrows from the Khari archers. The enemy soldiers shouted in confusion, their formation breaking as they scrambled for cover.
Rashid sprang into action, leading a small group down the ridge to engage the enemy directly. The sand shifted beneath his feet as he charged, his sword flashing in the moonlight.
The enemy was unprepared for the ferocity of the attack. Rashid's team moved like shadows, striking swiftly and retreating before the soldiers could regroup. Malik's tribesmen emerged from the dunes, their spears cutting through the chaos with precision.
Within minutes, the enemy force was in disarray. Those who weren't captured or killed fled into the night, their torches extinguished as they vanished into the sands.
Rashid stood in the center of the battlefield, his chest heaving as he surveyed the aftermath. The Khari tribesmen were gathering the surviving enemy soldiers, binding their hands and feet.
Malik approached, his expression one of approval. "You've sent a clear message tonight, Rashid. Mansa Musa will think twice before sending his men into our lands again."
Rashid sheathed his sword, the weight of the moment settling over him. "This was just a skirmish," he said quietly. "The real battle is still ahead."
The Interrogation
Back at the camp, the captured soldiers were brought before Rashid and Malik. They knelt in the sand, their faces marked with exhaustion and fear.
One of them, a young man with a defiant gaze, lifted his head to meet Rashid's eyes. "You think you've won something here?" he spat. "Mansa Musa's army will crush you like insects."
Rashid crouched in front of him, his expression calm but firm. "And yet, here you are, defeated and bound. Tell me, soldier, what is Mansa Musa planning? Why did he send you here?"
The man hesitated, his defiance faltering under Rashid's unwavering gaze. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "We were sent to scout the Khari lands… to assess your numbers and your defenses. Mansa Musa knows you've been gathering allies."
Rashid exchanged a glance with Malik, whose jaw tightened.
The soldier continued, his tone bitter. "But it doesn't matter. He has resources you can't even imagine. You'll never defeat him."
Rashid rose to his feet, his resolve hardening. "We'll see about that."
As the soldiers were led away, Rashid turned to Malik. "We need to act quickly. If Mansa Musa knows about our alliance with the Khari tribes, he'll strike sooner than we anticipated."
Malik nodded. "Then we must strengthen our defenses and reach out to the other clans. The time for preparation is over, Rashid. The war has begun."
Rashid looked out at the horizon, where the first hints of dawn were beginning to appear. The battle ahead would be the greatest challenge of his life, but he would face it head-on.
For his father. For his people. For the future of Oracle City.