"Arabian Nights"
Part 7
by Beryll
The lines of worry and a deep tiredness were etched deeply into the face of Caliph Hugo, when he quietly closed the door behind him. His two most trusted advisors felt his pain as if it were their own, when he faced them.
"How are they?" Karl asked, keeping his voice low, not to disturb the occupants of the room the Caliph had just left.
The Caliph sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. Such a gesture of open distress was seldom seen with him, and Karl and Ian exchanged worried glances.
"They are asleep now." the Caliph said. "There nurse managed to lull them into slumber. And my presence seemed to reassure them as well." He started walking in the direction of his private chambers and his two advisors fell into step behind him.
"They had to witness poor Alin die." the Caliph continued. "He held back the last two assassins right in their nursery. His courage and will to sacrifice himself are a great honor to your guard, Karl. His soul will be welcomed with much respect in the afterlife."
Karl knew the Caliph was trying to console him on his loss of yet another of the guards, but Karl's whole worry was with the Caliph himself. And with the children.
It was Ian who asked the question that was on Karl's mind. "So what do you think, my Lord? Dare we wait any longer?"
The Caliph stopped abruptly and turned to look at the two men, who had accompanied him through the years of his reign over Aqaba. They were not only advisors but also friends to him. They had stayed with him in good and bad times but never before had their peril been so intangible and yet so great.
"There is no doubt in my mind, that he is suited for this role." he said, "the only question is, if he will accept, what I wish to offer." He looked at Karl questioningly, but the Captain of his guard shrugged.
"I am not sure either." he answered. "He is still tired. And you, my Lord, have spoken to him at much greater length then I have. But he does not strike me as a man, who would shun a difficult task or shy away from responsibility."
"He did run away from his father, though." Ian commented. "Does that not qualify as running from responsibility as well?"
Caliph Hugo slowly shook his head. "No. From what he has told me, the only thing he feels really sorry for is deserting his people. But he felt they would be well cared for by his brothers. There was no responsibility for him there. Except maybe to dutifully marry the woman his father had picked for him. We can all see why a vigorous young man would want to do something useful with his life instead of being an unimportant husband in some minor province."
Ian bowed his head in consent and to hide the small smile on his lips. He remembered as well as the Caliph, that he himself had run away, many, many years ago from his own father, to find adventure. He had served with the guards of Caliph Hugo's father and later as a general in the army of the Sultan. But in the end, he had returned to Aqaba, the only place he truly called home.
"So you really want to make him your heir, my Lord?" Karl asked. "Is it right to take the throne from your own son to give it to a man who is still almost a stranger to us?"
"I would rather have my son alive than dead and with a throne that will likely bring him more grief than joy," the Caliph answered, a note of fierceness creeping into his voice. "Our friend Viggo craves something important to do. If I make him my heir, that will not only shift the focus of whoever is after us from my children to him. He will also be able to share with me the duties of reigning over Aqaba. Maybe he, in his youthful enthusiasm, will be able to deal with those nomads I never got around to getting rid of."
At that remark, Karl smiled. Those nomads were almost proverbial in the region for unpleasant things that just had to be endured. He seriously doubted that Viggo would be able to help the Caliph in that regard but he did understand why his Lord brought them up. It was true that since their last conquest, it had gotten difficult to keep the lands of Aqaba under control. Even a Caliph as skilled as Hugo could only keep his eyes on so many things. And trustworthy men were rare.
"Also the Sultan will not object to my naming him heir, as he is of royal blood. It is the best solution I can think of and we do not have the time to find a better one," the Caliph concluded and his advisors nodded their assent.
*****
Viggo watched the two children in silence. The little girl
looked like she was about four years old. Her thick black hair was carefully
braided. Her delicate face made her look like a little fairy. Her tiny hands
were carefully sorting through colored stones, arranging them in a circle.
Her younger brother was as noisy as she was quiet. He was sitting in another
corner, brandishing a small wooden sword, yelling commands at the toy soldiers
his nurse had arranged in a little army in front of him.
Both of them reminded him of his own siblings. To think that anybody would
threaten these innocent children was... horrifying. But he knew from experience
that the greed of some people knew no boundaries.
He turned around to face his host. Now the lines on his face and the tired circles under the Caliph's eyes made a new kind of sense. It was not the abundance of work that weighed this gracious man down, but worry for the two things that were most precious to him. His children.
Honor demanded he accept his offer, but even had it not been so, his heart would have clamored for him to do the thing that would make the lives of these beautiful children safe again. Already part of his mind was occupied with finding ways to distract their enemies from them. And to find those enemies and eradicate them.
The smile the Caliph showed was tired but filled with deep love for the children, when he again looked at them and then at Viggo.
"What do you say, Viggo?" he asked. "Will you help me?"
There was only one proper answer to that. Viggo went down on one knee and bowed his head deeply. "My Lord, you honor me beyond measure with your offer. In no way am I deserving of so much kindness, when you have already granted me your hospitality and friendship. But I do see that this is the only way to protect your children. Whatever is in my power I will do to protect them and serve you in any way I can. I pledge to you my loyalty, my sword and my life. I accept your offer. I will be your son."
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
go to PART 8