(Part 1)

Mustafa listened patiently as his true brother related the new and unexpected turn of events with some excitement: that Razin had 'paid a visit', and that this time around, the 'blasted scorpion' had proven willing to confess provided half the chance. Would 'the lion prince' please consider it?

At the end of such narration, where even the vocal Zalea did not dare interrupt, Mu sighed.

"Goodness me," he moaned, "this must have been part of the reasons why it had taken us so damn-long to just acquire the reinforcements we'd so badly needed: second guesses and dallying at the same court we are supposed to be safeguarding! I want Razin dead, sooner the better; which part of such an order did you not dig, Azu?!"

"Hold on, Akhi, don't just dump it all on him!" Rashid interrupted, aghast. "Are we to pay no mind to what Razin might have to say in his own defense, then..?"

"And why do you think I'd need to waste my breath on that, little brother? To begin with, the right way and place for Razin to be relating said 'defense' would have been in a proper courtroom where everyone could witness; not alone in some ill-lit corner before a bed-wetting, snot-nosed princeling! Hey, I know you're damn-fortunate to have gotten out of said encounter in one piece, and that we should at least be grateful for it-"

"But what?" Rashid retorted. "Will you leave me nothing to put my own mark here, Akhi? Am I to always nod to what my elders are saying, no matter how foul--is that what being a prince really means? Heck, Azalea did that to me once when she had the chance to meet her friend... Zena, I think that's the name. Our beloved sister threatened a basira patrolman before my very eyes for a paupress's sake, and I did not get to do a single darn-thing to help, you know that?! She even relished on your extended absence!"

Zal winced. "Gosh dang it, Pipsqueak, just when I thought you'd dropped that one..."

Rashid glared back. "You wish! And now you dare expect Akhi to save your mom's sorry neck, when you've gotten so close to sever another's... Who are we kidding here?!"

"Enough!" Mu barked. "Are you two competing to wear my brain the heck out? Hmm? My dear siblings!" He got out of bed, casting a side glare on Azumi.

"I'm about to show these rugrats just what I think 'being a prince' could be like," he pointed out. "By all means, stay out of this."

The aide nodded, even retreating a few steps.

"Azalea," the 'lion prince' began. He did not shout but she began to tremble with muddied conscience.

"Yes..?" she squeaked.

"Is what my brother said, true?"

Damn-no use tryin' to skirt it. "Yes, Akhi..."

"What did you threaten him for?"

"Uh... Think it was to show the way in gettin' some loaves of bread. Honest!"

"And have you been properly punished for this?"

"Got away with it..."

She did not dare meet his stare by now, so he held her chin and made her look into his face.

"Your mom did worse, but you said she doesn't deserve what's coming for her. For love. Did you show any trace of that to one of our subjects, dear sister? He may even have tried to apologize-"

"He had," Rashid testified.

"But..." Zalea gasped, "are ya really gonna condemn my mom over... what, freakin'-loaves of bread? Those were already paid, I'll have ya know, and with Zena's own earnings! I'll just apologize to that basira bumpkin, make an end of it!"

"His name was Idenara," Rashid observed crisply, "and you better use that when addressing him next time, Zal."

"Gotcha..."

Mu considered this as he again stared at his sibling. "Does sound like you've had particularly wild times when I was away, sister... though Brista's whims would've made you appear graceful by comparison, I daresay. But, so be it: apologize, and make damn-sure you do it properly. No fuss."

"'Kay."

"Rashid!"

"Yes!"

"That still changes nothing of the fact about Razin having been an actual murderer. I appreciate your courage, I really do... but you've been at the wrong end of his blade thrice, and I wouldn't want a fourth if I can help it. Got me?"

"Told you he asked me..." the 'bed-wetting' princeling sighed. "But, he is a full-blown murderer... be it so. Promise me there'll be another chance, then, Akhi."

"Ras-"

"Say it!"

"...Alright, I promise. Now, can we at last get to the raw meat, please? You both seem to want me to forgive Mira but not Razin..."

"Forgive them both, for all I care! You have the authority to, you know it, we know it. That's why we are even here!"

"Well I'll be- you sure are so persistent today, little brother. That said, let's not overgeneralize. Mira had committed a crime; she can't be let off the hook with a simple apology from myself, nor yours!"

"Akhi," Ras went on, his tone remarkably more modest this time. "Our own mother once told me... we should always pray to Allah to Regard us more with His Mercy than Justice in the Hereafter--because, in the latter case, none of us would've escaped Hell for the sheer weight of our sins. Even then many would be Forgiven as He Wills.

"We cannot presume to emulate His Wisdom, I know that..." the boy continued, "but here we are being provided the chance to practice just a tiny drop of it: be merciful, and believe me, it could go a long way. Was it not also from Allah's Infinite Mercy, that we could still breathe freely today? Takes fortitude of sorts to be able to forgive too; more so when you realize you've been wronged. Are you such a man?"

At that moment Zal could swear she was experiencing seeds of respect and admiration for this 'pipsqueak'--one of the lives her own mother had once aspired to take, actually taking a stand for his would-have-been felon.

"Well, but the hard fact is," Mu pressed on, "there are families out there clamoring for her blood too; do you know that?"

"And ya wouldn't have known that, Mu, 'less ya've done some private rounds in town before that takedown," Zal cut in, a twirled finger on her chin. "I'd wager, at least one of said families had not wanted Mom's blood for its own sake; therefore, my mom does not really need to end up kickin' the bucket! Huh?"

"Come to think of it, Princess," Azu rejoined, "you may have a point. The prince was indeed on the verge of proposing entirely new solutions prior to said takedown, I could vouch for this. He might have forgotten that course, somehow, in the events that followed."

"There!" Zal spread her hands out matter-of-factly, now sporting a wide grin. "So, the question now would be: just what 'new' measures were you planning to undertake, Mu? Know, meanwhile, that I am banking on that--anything to have my reformed mom by our side for just a bit longer, okay? Love ya too, Akhi, darn you. For now... Ras, let's give him some space. Azu, walk with us."

"As you will, Princess-"

"He stays," Mu growled. "The rest of you, out."

As he complied, Rashid found time to glance back at his true brother with a good luck smile before going after his fiery sibling's trail.

In the span of time immediately following Rashid's egress and the door being properly closed, Mu found himself mulling over one of Brista's more to-the-point quips:

'Justice? Let's see...' the even-younger Dragoness had pointed out with her signature candor while adeptly keeping a dagger spinning between her fingers. 'Freakin'-funny business, that, if you ask me. Darn-easier for us to fling so-called 'verdicts' 'round to outsiders surmised to be at fault. The truer test, though, would be with insiders. Best o' luck there, my dear Dragontamer.' At this point she had stabbed said dagger lightly into his campaign map, right onto the depicted position of their central keep, while smirking. 'Oh, claim not to take faith in it all ya will, but ya might gonna need pinches of it all the same, let's not deny it~'

I wonder, he presently thought, which of such differing views I ought to pay more credence to here...

***

"Any truth to that, Azu?" the 'lion prince' wanted to know once he was sure they were alone. "Had I really been considering something entirely new for Mira?"

"Why, yes, my prince. Sadly I could not recall the precise wording, but you did promise to settle this matter 'for the benefit of all'..."

"Can you at least bring to mind just who it had been that I'd talked to?"

"I think it was... Zaheer, sir. Your deceased maid Zahra's only son."

"Ah yes, that clever brat!" Mu slapped his own temples. "Now what was it that I had promised him..? Unless I can remember that, we might not get to progress at all with this case! How long before Bri's envoys shall arrive?"

"Two days, sir, give or take..." The aide paused. The takedown had been as painful as it was sudden: a few helping nudges would not hurt. "If I might be so bold, my prince... Would it really be in your best interests to... ahem... get Queen Mirani out of the way?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, sir, what follows is just my personal opinion; however, given that we are about to deal with people whose culture we barely figured too much about, not to mention their beliefs... I do think we'd need to have some learned advice at the ready, especially regarding the northern subtleties. Queen Mirani is just the proper candidate for that, I would think: she hails from a powerhouse that used to have regular contacts--for better or worse--with Lady Brista's domains."

"And her verdict?"

"My prince, you hinted that said verdict might be deferred until after the conclusion of our negotiations with the northerners; a wise step, I say. Might Queen Mirani not be allowed a chance to test her hand at dealing with them once again in the meantime? Such a move would have given Princess Azalea something to ponder on in the art of negotiations--supposing, of course, that she'd be allowed to take part in the proceedings. Not to mention, the queen's performance might then serve as an indication of whether or not you ought to proceed with her condemnation. Razin's fate, before you ask, shall be of secondary importance here."

"Hmm... You do have a point, though it might look as if I'm only keeping my stepmom alive to help achieve my own ends. I'd be lying if I say that wouldn't leave a mark."

"In my humble opinion, sir, it's merely a matter of interpretation. We ought to be focusing more on the bigger picture."

Mu had not pondered on this kind of solution for very long before three more knocks again occurred on his door.

"Darn it, just no end to them, is there... Come in!"

Another familiar figure made their entrance. "Peace be to you, Mustafa, darling. Haven't really visited you here since you're back, have I?"

The prince's expression softened a tad. "And to you, Mother. About right, yes."

"Shall I retire, my queen?"

"Do stay, Azu; I heard how my son holds no secrets with you. So, Mu..." Vestra moved to stand in front of her firstborn. "Met Zal and Rashid on my way; the latter appearing to have been crying. What happened here?"

A few more minutes was spent explaining the intertwined nature between the two 'convicts', ending with, "Do you think they are worth sparing, Mother?"

"Personally, why not," came the reply. "You know they have talents of use, even when they'd not be in ways you'd like. Either way, you were one of the victims, not me... and in making the final decision 'tis always a good idea to appear self-reliant; doubly so for future rulers. Before getting to decision-making, however, you must first determine whether you would in principle condemn them or acquit them--and in doing so you must be impartial, in that said principle must apply for both Mira and Razin. Only then might we get to the actual verdicts, that is, determining just how severely they ought to be punished. So, have you decided on said principle?"

"Just moments ago I have had quite a few advice on how that should be done. Still pondering over them now."

"Well, best make up your mind soon. You don't want to be caught napping by the time Idris and that Dragoness lass get here."

"On it, Mother. This visit is appreciated."

"Glad to see my lion up and clawing again," Vestra replied with a smile, about to leave. "How soon before you could resume normal work, Mu, I wonder? So much else awaits your attention-"

"I'm bloody aware of that, Your Grace. I'll be at court as early as tomorrow, insha Allah."

"Be it so. Azu?"

"My queen."

"Do look after him."

Azumi punched his own breast. "To my utmost."

Behind them, Mu momentarily closed his eyes. Good to know I still have ones I might depend on, at least. Such scrutiny could really be a thorn in the backside...

"Azu!"

"Sir."

The prince was massaging his own temples. "Been thinking. For all the power we have on hand and could muster, figured I'd prefer that maid-wrecker to turn in on his own account. Possible lighter verdict, dangle that out as part of the offer. Sniff out anyone near his innermost circle, get them working on him soon as can be. Trials are quite the expense in themselves, while affording the chance to make him look like a martyr when he's not even half that. Final last shot at clemency for him, you could say."

"Begging pardons, sir... would approaching him by the back ways not help establish just such a notion, as well?"

"He tried doing the same to my brother, as you've heard, and that had been made quite the argument! Two can play that sorta game, no buts. Clear?"

"Sir! But in case he'd resist-"

"Put him six feet under. I have evidence and shall present that if pressed, though I doubt anyone would. Now get out of my sight."

(Part 2)

"Say, Pipsqueak," Azalea blurted as they walked, having put quite some distance from their eldest sibling's chambers, "wanna visit yer mom's gardens again? Figured we could use some fresh air, and that was where I first got my first proper present--that namesake flower."

The princeling nodded. "Whatever works. Didn't know you could be a flower-lover, I'll say that much."

"Screw ya; 'tis still a far-better pastime than shopwrecking!"

"Not a job?" Rashid grinned, soon sidestepping a mock-slap. "Had this kinda talk with Big Sis Lei quite a few times, you see: seems like she's gonna try a shot at being a book-keeper. So beneficial for so many, she maintains."

"Eh, think I'd rather go 'round leading blades for hire: pay worth the damn-risks. Mistress-at-arms, at worst, turnin' snot-nosed sloths to tigers if they learn at all; some just won't. Yaself?"

"Dunno yet... But, seeing how we've got a navy, and how Akhi's already excelling on land--serves him right, he can't swim--think I'd be a sailor. Maybe even a captain, bringing presents from regions you'd not have dreamt to witness!"

"A sailor with a bow during a melee? Darn-swifter end, if anything."

"We'll have to see. Haven't found myself a proper ship to serve on, anyway."

At this moment they paused, noticing someone already seated on one of the stone benches some distance away, their face currently hidden behind a wooden tablet.

"Who goes?!" Zal called out.

The figure looked up--it was Dastra--and he waved back.

"The heck're ya doin' there, runt?!"

"Could ask the same! C'mere, you two, gonna show ya somethin'!"

They obliged, and was soon shown a painted sketch of the gardens. The colors were as yet lacking, nor did it look like it was going to be finished anytime soon, but the outline impressed Azalea enough to whistle to herself.

"Gonna try sell that or what?" she rested an elbow lightly on her true brother's shoulder.

Das chuckled back. "Never gonna come near those damn-fine artists' paintings in circulation, if that's what ya're getting at."

"Why not? Once ya came runnin' to me babbling on tax cuts-"

Rashid smiled. "Not wanting to confuse you further, Das... but I also think you could rake it big in almost one swoop."

"You do, huh, Big Bro? How?"

"Hey, don't ignore me, ya twerps..!"

"You might recall," Rashid went on, ignoring her anyway, "how Akhi's gonna host some of the Dragoness's lot pretty soon, right? Well, negotiations aside, why not try to make some good impressions on her? Paint a dragon or something you're almost certain she'd take, do your best, and present that as a souvenir. No immediate return there just yet for you, but such a gesture is bound to be noticed... Plus, it might help the northerners appreciate our goodwill better, and if so, we might end up earning better deals for both sides; don't you think?"

"Hum!" Zal pounded on her own left palm with her right fist. "Darn good point there, Pipsqueak! Why hadn't I thought of that..."

"But..." Dastra blinked in wonder. "Turnin' up one of my first works for a total stranger? Ya sure?"

"I mean, what's the harm? Being a stranger, the Dragoness wouldn't dare mock you too harshly... let's hope. Heck, she's worked with Akhi before, and you're his brother... well, not directly, but that ought to bring some leverage. Just try it, okay? Please?"

The younger prince narrowed his eyes. "Kinda sudden, this. Let's say I agree... how long do ya think I'd have 'fore she gets here?"

"Sir Azumi would know," Zal replied. "Heck, runt, we can get to him like, now, to find out! But suppose I do go talk to him, will ya still do yer part?"

"Depends, Big Sis... but ya're welcome to try. Gee, I better start gettin' my hands on some dragon-y pics, then; back to the library."

(Part 3)

"Attention! His Grace the Amir, the Pathfinder, Urdin the Third Husniris!"

Having been so chastised by his firstborn, and equally curious to learn whether his stream of field campaigns might still be well-regarded among the rank-and-file, Mu's father now found himself gazing around at a sea of mubarizun elite warriors in their leaf-green uniforms.

"We bid you welcome to our humble accommodations, sire," an officer, with plumed headgear, stroke his own breast with his right fist by way of salutary greeting. "Captain Kaigen Besnaris, at your service."

"How many of you are present here today?" Urdin inquired.

"Here, as in this part of the barracks, sire? We number three hundred. More if you include those on other parts, not to mention those still in training."

Urdin gazed about the room, to faces he might not see again after the next 'field trip'.

"Is there any here that were part of Mustafa's northern expedition?"

Some of the mubarizuns behind Kaigen exchanged glances.

"We had that honor, sire!" came a reply from the second-from-the-back end of the line.

"Step forth!"

The leaf-green sea parted to make way for a pair of their own. Having performed their gesture of salute, they stood to attention. The Amir did not fail to note that one of them had plumed headgear; he turned to this one first.

"Name and rank?"

"Sergeant Yusuf, sire... and this is Kashik, my last surviving squad member from that particular encounter. At your service."

"Tell me how it went."

"Bloody, sire, as all such operations are bound to be. Quite a few had also taken note of how our prince and that young fire-eating lady they refer to as 'Dragoness' seemed to have developed bonds of sorts. Appeared to have been quite strong too, for reasons yet to be disclosed..."

"Keep it professional, soldier!"

"Begging pardons, Your Grace.. but that has often been quoted as one of the reasons we even managed to ride out of that particular storm. Would you please imagine: we had been reduced to little more than an amalgam of troops simply fighting for the same cause as the months-long siege had progressed."

"That," Kashik added, "and perhaps an awfully-healthy dose of those fire-spitting beasts. Made bloody lanes of hostile flesh, they did. Shame there were too few working ones near the end to be useful."

"What beasts?" Urdin rejoined, astonished.

"He is talking of rifles, sire," Yusuf explained. "Those so-called 'barbarians' appeared to have produced quite a few of them as an integrated part of their arsenal, crude as it may seem. Rumors hinted of cannons, as well; shame we did not get to see them put to use."

"How could they have managed to pull that off, given the disparity of resources?"

"Our guess is as good as yours on that, sire. Thankfully we were allowed to take five of these rifles home as samples to study; the northerners were in awe of our long-standing proclivity in that field, to say the least, and are equally eager to see what might come out of them in our hands."

"Samples of study, are they?" Kashik quipped. "Many wondered on that, see. Might as well have been gifts from Lady Dragoness, for the sake of it."

Yusuf cleared his own throat. "In any case, sire, they are ready for your inspection. Right this way; we have preserved them per Prince Mustafa's instructions."

Curiosity prevailing, the Amir nodded and the leaf-green sea once again parted for him. This time he followed Yusuf almost to the back-end of the barracks where the so-called 'rifles' were stored side by side, on a separate rack from those used for spears. Taking hold of one of the former, Urdin lifted it and made a mental note on how lightweight this one-barreled contraption could be. He squinted as if to take aim.

"Have we also been given the munitions for this peculiar... weapon?" he wanted to know.

"As to that, sire, the Dragoness had been of the opinion that perhaps there too we might like to experiment... She certainly is more astute than meets the eye, for her tender years... Oh, which reminds me, she had also provided the recipe for gunpowder, to be handled with meticulous care. Would you deign to peruse it?"

"Before we get to such technicalities," the Amir remarked, putting the weapon back on to its rack, "how is the morale of our rank and file at present, Captain Kaigen? Even if we are being given such sophisticated weapons as these, they'll be of little use in the hands of cowards and ditherers."

Kaigen straightened up, clearing his own throat. "Well, sire, we have to admit, morale is a little drained following--and despite--the success of our prince's northern expedition... but that speaks nothing of the men's zeal for projected campaigns. In fact, some of us were just starting to discuss possibilities for finally getting to grips with the Sigistan marauders down south under my supervision.

"Now, suppose we are to take the use of this novel weaponry into consideration..." he continued. "From what Yusuf had told me, sire, we shall be at a great disadvantage at present. We simply have not started to study its full potential, let alone harness it for any type of combat on any terrain, much less on our ships. The rifles also seem to suffer from slow reloading, certainly not a match for archers; plus, they are as susceptible to adverse weather as, say, bowstrings would be."

"Do you think we'd be better off integrating such weapons, though?"

"It does mark a new spark of genius, sire, something our faith-infused culture has long been renowned for... and as a part of a military corps that had scored one success after the next, I should like to think that it might give us an edge over our adversaries. All said, I dare not overstep my bounds of authority."

"Nor should you ever, good sir," Urdin asserted, his gaze straying again to the experimental rifles. "Might be someone to watch, this Dragoness lass... or to watch out for, if she's indeed gotten so far as to produce land-based cannons, never mind how crude. Have someone send that gunpowder recipe within the next hour to me personally. Good brief; I'm off."

Once more the mubarizuns pounded their chests as one. "Long may you reign!"

***

On his way out of the mubarizun barracks, the Amir found himself pondering as he walked.

"Good to see them still having the zest," he remarked. "Now, supposing we really could strike chords with the north in the upcoming days, we just might get more samples of these so-called 'rifles' and time to properly learn about them, what with the recipe for gunpowder already being thoroughly prepared... Then it'd only be a matter of time 'fore the southern raiders shall get to taste the sort of treatment they'd seen fit to dish out to so many before, at long last!"

***

Mu's presence at that same evening's family dinner, following about a week's incapacitation no thanks to the takedown, practically cheered both of the Amir's lines with the thought that at last things were beginning to 'look up' again. Even Dastra's plan to try to present a 'masterpiece' for the Dragoness was broached, and after some thought Mu agreed--much to the kid's delight. Vestra, meanwhile, looked up at this.

"Are you being earnest?" she interjected. "We shall be offering a child's painting against some of the finest weapons in their arsenal; might they not take that as an insult?"

"They might," her firstborn nodded, "but if they should choose to see it that way, Mother, the joke would not be on us."

"How so?" Mirani wanted to know.

"This will serve as more than simple negotiations of coexistence or trade, methinks; rather, it shall also be a chance to glimpse just how far each of our cultures have progressed. We shall have to hope Brista's going to be smart enough to comprehend that. A handmade painting by one of our royal family would do just fine."

"Are you sure you're not stretching your neck a tad too far there, Mustafa?"

"I don't think he is, dear Ves," Urdin joined from the head of the table. "Part of Mu's successful defense had been a handful of firearms; mubarizuns taking part in said defense even talked of cannons. Since they have such intriguing military wares, we naturally would like to figure out how the rest of northern culture had fared--and by that I mean outside warfare--before we should care to consider alliance with them."

Vestra rose. "You wish to what- consider heathens as allies?!"

"Think of it as a way to secure our borders. Irreligious they may be, but diplomatic stupidity is quite another matter. They shall welcome peace as well as the next man, and we'd be fools ourselves not to grasp it."

"Indeed," Mu rejoined. "With the north secured--and by Allah, we had seen enough bloodshed there--we might attend to other quarters of our defenses. Even the Prophet, peace be upon him, had seen fit to strike a truce with heathens when the time had been opportune; why should this one be any different, Mother?"

"That... was but ten years, if I remember-"

"Ves, you're really taking this much too seriously again," Mira reminded her. "Why not sit back and see how it shall roll, hmm? Times are changing and we should too. Not to mention, you'll also be welcoming your nephew Idris, no? Prepare accordingly, I suggest."

"I..." Ves sighed, resuming her seat. "Very well, if it must be so..."

On this notion things settled down and the dinner progressed. Near its end, Mustafa could not help but wonder how his soon-to-be guests must have been faring.

"Queen Mirani," he called as the latter was getting out of her decorated seat, "might we have a moment?"

Said queen paused to look at him, before resuming her seat with a wide grin.