Reconquer

-------- Same Day --------

--------------- Northern Frontier, Karshan Empire ---------------

Azlaan sat on his horse at the center of his forces. His commanders waited beside him in silence. They had moved into position under cover of night, surrounding Fort Barzan on all sides. The army stood ready, their black flags furled and waiting.

As the sun rose, Azlaan could see the Caballarius guards moving along the walls.

As they noticed the army in front of them, shouts rang out along the walls. The Caballarius garrison scrambled to their posts, figures rushing across the battlements in sudden chaos.

Even from this distance, Azlaan could see the panic spread.

"Emir," an envoy approached on horseback. "What message should I take?"

Azlaan looked at the fortress. "Tell them to surrender."

The envoy nodded and rode toward the gates.

The ride across the open ground felt slow. Azlaan watched as his envoy approached the walls, as guards were summoned, as officers appeared on the battlements. Even from this distance, he could see the panic spreading through the garrison as they took in the size of the army surrounding them.

After several minutes, the envoy turned his horse and began riding back. His pace was quick.

"Emir," he panted as he reached Azlaan's position. "They refuse to surrender. They say if we attack, they'll harm the villagers."

Azlaan's expression remained unchanged. He looked straight ahead at the fort, silent for a long moment.

"Advance," he said. "And bring the prisoners."

The army moved forward as one, stopping just within range of the Caballarius archers.

"Bring the prisoners forward," Azlaan ordered.

His soldiers dragged forward a group of chained men in Caballarius colors—commanders and soldiers captured during the previous day's campaign. Their armor was dented, their faces marked by defeat.

The prisoners were positioned in clear view of the fortress walls.

Azlaan turned to his envoy. "Tell them to surrender or watch their fellow soldiers' death before facing their own."

The envoy walked his horse forward and shouted the message toward the gates.

The gates of Fort Barzan creaked open. A single figure emerged on foot—a tall man with graying hair, his armor marking him as an officer.

The envoy walked beside him, but halfway, the man stopped short. His gaze wasn't on Azlaan—or even the men gathered behind him—but on Azlaan's stallion. The horse's coat, darker than the night sky, seemed to swallow the light around it. Azlaan had seen that look many times before.

The envoy called to him, breaking his gaze, and they slowly closed the remaining distance, stopping before Azlaan.

"I am Commander Lagos," the officer said. "We've heard your terms." He sighed. "We'll surrender if you confirm our safety and passage back to the Chryssus Empire."

Azlaan looked down at him. "We promise the safety of every soldier."

Lagos's eyes widened. "Thank you. We shall—"

"After you face justice."

Lagos's face fell. He looked at the chained soldiers nearby, then at the army surrounding his fortress. His jaw tightened. For a moment, he seemed about to protest.

Then he unclipped his sword and threw it to the ground. The metal rang out against stone.

Silence hung over the valley for a heartbeat.

Kabir—a soldier shorter than average and one of his most loyal men—roared, "Allahu Akbar!"

The cry was taken up immediately. Five thousand soldiers echoed it in unified thunder. "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!"

Lagos stood motionless as the sound washed over him, his face pale.

Azlaan remained on his horse. "Order your men to lay down their weapons."

Lagos nodded and called back toward the fortress. The gates opened wider. The Caballarius garrison began filing out, their weapons clattering to the ground as they dropped them in surrender. Azlaan's soldiers moved quickly, securing the prisoners and taking control of the fortress.

Azlaan led his forces through the main gates with Lagos walking beside his horse. The Caballarius commander was stripped of his sword and bound in chains. Behind them came the other captured prisoners, also in chains.

As they walked through the streets of the village, hollow-cheeked faces peered from broken windows and rundown doorways, watching the procession pass. The soldiers who had once occupied the place now marched in chains.

By the time they reached the town center, a crowd had gathered. More villagers emerged from their homes cautiously, drawn by the commotion. They lined the streets and filled the square.

All the Caballarius soldiers were rounded up in the center of the square, stripped of weapons and armor, standing under heavy guard.

Azlaan remained on his horse, positioning himself where everyone could see and hear him.

"As-salamu alaykum," he raised his hand as his voice carried across the square.

"Wa alaykumu s-salam," the crowd responded.

He waited for the murmuring to end before continuing.

"People of Barzan, your occupation is over. Every fort along the frontier has fallen. The north is ours."

He paused. "I am your new governor. And I have come to restore what was taken from you."

A man pushed forward from the crowd. "We were left alone here in the north to face everything on our own, and now you come here!" His voice shook. "Because of your empire, our people were killed by those Caballarius soldiers!"

Others in the crowd murmured agreement. Another voice called out, "Maybe it was for the best that they conquered us! Maybe we would be paid attention to! We would rather be part of an empire that takes care of us than being kept stored like useless property!"

Slowly, he dismounted. Standing on the ground at their level, he faced them directly.

He only saw exhaustion.

"I understand your concern," he said. "Every word you speak is justified. You have been failed—by the empire, by those who were meant to protect you." He paused. "I ask that you allow me the chance to right those wrongs."

He took a breath. "I am Azlaan, son of Suleiman."

A ripple went through the crowd at the mention of that name. Heads turned, people whispered urgently.

"I will make the north prosper again. And I swear by Allah that I will not rest until I do."

He gestured toward the chained soldiers. "However first comes justice. All those who have committed atrocities will face punishment." He paused. "If any of you have witnessed these soldiers commit injustice—if they have harmed you or your families—speak now. Point them out."

The crowd stirred uncertainly at first. Then a woman stepped forward. "That one! He killed my brother!"

Another voice joined hers, then another. "They killed my husband!" "They murdered innocents!" More voices joined, each naming crimes.

Azlaan gestured to his guards. "Bring forward those who have been named."

Several Caballarius soldiers were pulled from the group and brought to stand before Azlaan. One of them was pushed forward first.

Azlaan studied him for a moment. "Were you defending yourself?"

The soldier remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Speak if you wish to defend yourself."

"I was ordered to do it! I was forced! I had no choice!"

"Who ordered you?"

The soldier's gaze shot to Azlaan. "Lord Thomas. He told us to spread fear. He said to kill, to make examples. We were just following orders!"

Azlaan drew his sword. In one smooth motion, the blade rose and fell in a single, swift arc. The soldier's head fell from his shoulders. His body remained standing for a heartbeat before collapsing.

The crowd gasped. Some looked away, but others nodded grimly.

Azlaan felt no hesitation, no doubt. This was justice.

He cleaned his blade and sheathed it. "It does not matter if you were ordered. You chose what you did. Every man chooses his own actions." He looked at the remaining soldiers. "You will all face justice. And so will those who commanded these atrocities."

One by one, the remaining soldiers who had been named were executed.

After the last execution, Azlaan turned to the remaining prisoner. "Where is Lord Thomas? He should be among these prisoners."

Lagos spoke up. "He isn't here. He left for Bornia yesterday to meet with the Duke."

Azlaan's jaw tightened. "Very well."

He raised his voice. "Take all remaining prisoners to the prison. They will be held there until arrangements can be made for their ransom or exchange."

His men moved quickly, leading the chained soldiers away. Soon only the townspeople remained in the square.

Azlaan turned back to face them. "We've brought provisions from the empire." He looked across the crowd. "The north will no longer be forgotten."

The people who were angry just a moment ago had smiles on their faces.

They were desperate. Too hungry, too weary to turn away help, no matter where it came from.

He looked across the crowd. "Can anyone point me toward the house of Suleiman?"

An old man stepped forward. "Certainly, son. Come with me."

He led Azlaan and a small group of his commanders through the winding streets to an old wooden house near the edge of the village. The wood was weathered by years, but the structure stood solid.

The old man gestured at it. "This is the house of Suleiman."

Azlaan stared at the house for a long moment, then nodded. "Thank you."

The old man smiled and walked back toward his own home, right next to Azlaan's.

Azlaan pushed open the door and entered, his commanders following behind.

The weathered exterior did not match the inside. The house had been swept clean. Everything was in its place, as if it was prepared for them. Someone had been caring for this home all these years.

Azlaan stood still for a moment, taking it in. Then he turned to face his commanders. "We will leave for Bornia tomorrow at dawn. Prepare a small number of soldiers to go with us."

Kabir frowned. "Only a small force? What if they try something?"

"Don't worry, Kabir. They can't attack us in Bornia."

Azlaan knew an attack in neutral territory was a grave offense, and its punishment even harsher.