Gentle Hands or Viper Fangs

Devrim exited the tent and held out his hand to shield himself from the afternoon sun. He could hear Mairwen's voice, but it was not until his vision adjusted to the light that he could identify one of the other speakers.

"Captain Caleb? What are you doing here?" Devrim asked, surprised.

The Captain of the palace guard bowed before the Emperor. "Forgive me, Your Highness! I got caught up in the siege of the Southern Fort. I was checking on supplies and preparations to report to the Empress when everything went wrong. The gnomes attacked from below and nearly collapsed the whole fortress. We were forced into the desert and lost many soldiers to quicksand and the heat.

"When we thought all was lost, these strange animals appeared like ghosts in the desert. I believe they are called camels. The Dunesmen put us to sleep and brought us here. We have been regrouping to make an attack on the fort ever since." Caleb stepped aside, and Devrim viewed the camp of the People of the Drifting Dunes.

The camp was massive with tents as far as the eye could see. The canvas structures were well built and waterproof for the occasional rain, but also lightweight for easy travel. The sheer number of them was overwhelming. They were situated around the pool of a large oasis. That was probably why the air felt cooler than it had out on the dunes.

That is when Devrim realized what Captain Caleb had been referencing. Outside many of the tents were not Dunesmen, but soldiers of the Valiant Empire. Other tents were being slowly filled with the people who had come with the Emperor and Princess.

"The army from the Southern Fort is here?" Devrim rubbed his eyes in disbelief. But when he looked, the soldiers were still there making preparations or helping the newcomers.

"Yes, Sire. And our numbers have grown. New refugees come every day." Captain Caleb nodded.

"How?" The Emperor could not form his sentence. "How is this possible?"

Hearing the question, Chieftain Orhan strode toward them and joined the conversation. "A strange woman with colorless eyes visited me recently. She gave me a vision and said to prepare for a crowd of visitors and to accept the refugees."

No one who knew the Fates had to guess who it had been.

Orhan continued. "So we have been making tents, weaving clothes and preparing food ever since. I have been sending my men to sweep the desert and bring back those they find. I must say that finding a princess and Emperor was not in the vision, but everything else she said has been true."

"Hanna has a way of knowing things," Mairwen chirped. "How nice of her to prepare the way!"

"Indeed," the Emperor agreed.

There was a fifth member of the group who had remained quiet to this point. Devrim had been so delighted to see Captain Caleb, that he had not questioned the other man's presence. Mairwen introduced him now. "May I present Lieutenant Mund? He helped keep me safe when the Western Fort was destroyed."

The Lieutenant bowed. "It is an honor, Your Majesty."

"Thank you for saving my daughter," Devrim reached forward and shook the man's forearm.

Embarrassed, Mund scratched the back of his head. "All the credit should go to Renat on that one. Without his inventions, we would not have stood a chance. Is Renat with you? I have not seen him." Mund scanned the crowd before he noticed the tears in the princess's eyes.

"You will not see him," she said with such melancholy that Mund wanted to hit himself for asking.

"I am so sorry! If you will excuse me, I will help get the newcomers settled." The Lieutenant all but ran from the group after a salute.

Junayd joined them as the other walked away. "What has Mund in such a rush?" he asked casually.

"Foot-in-mouth syndrome," Captain Caleb responded, using one of Junayd's terms to describe the situation. The two men shook forearms in greeting.

Junayd nodded thoughtfully. "I have been there many times. I usually say the wrong thing, actually. Excuse me, Princess Mairwen, the ladies over there wanted me to ask you if you would like to bathe and have fresh clothes. They will lead you to the proper area."

Mairwen wiped her eyes and nodded. "Thank you general. That sounds lovely." The princess walked to the women in question and disappeared among the tents.

"You have a treasure in that young lady. She would not think to take care of herself until she was sure you were alright," Orhan observed.

"You will never get an argument from me when you praise my daughter," Devrim looked at the spot where the girl had disappeared.

"Father!" A male voice came from a different direction. The four men turned to veiw the newcomer.

"Speaking of arguments," Orhan sighed. He motioned to the man who had called out. "Come here, my son, and meet the Emperor."

With the cloth only loosely wrapped around his head, it was easy to see that the younger man was a close copy of his father. He had a handsome face with those same gold rimmed eyes. But instead of quiet strength, the twenty-five-year-old carried an air of cold defiance.

"Is this the old Emperor or the new one? It is so hard to keep track," the young man quipped.

Caleb and Junayd were ready to jump to the Devrim's defense, but they need not have worried. Orhan struck his palm against the back of the his son's head.

"Apologize. Now." He ordered. "Or I will invoke tradition as you so often want. You know the punishment for insulting a monarch under the old law."

The younger man pressed his lips together but backed down. "Forgive me, Emperor Devrim. I forgot that I am only a cog in the wheel of progress. Others use tradition only when it suits them."

It was not much of an apology, but Devrim was willing to let it go. "I am relieved that I am not the only one with a defiant son," he chuckled.

"This one is extra defiant, to be sure. May I present is my son, Timur. He has yet to learn to use his mouth properly." Orhan resisted the urge to thwack his son again. "This is one of the many reasons he has yet to settle down and find a wife."

"Not this again. Every time I want to have a conversation, you mention your lack of grandchildren." Timur groaned. "I am a grown man and future leader of the Dunesmen. You should have invited me here sooner. You know that I want to discuss the autonomy of our people."

The Cheiftain nodded and took a deep breath. He laid his hand on his son's shoulder gently. "My son, your behavior demonstrates why you were not invited. You will never win another man's ear by insults. Be polite and honor our guests. Only then will you have the opportunity to speak on more important matters." Orhan squeezed the other man's shoulder. Timur's face fell. He realized that in his zeal, he had made a huge error.

Forgetting his pride for a moment, Timur bowed low before the Emperor. Those around watched in astonishment. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. In my devotion to uphold the old laws of my people, I have neglected the most important one. Respect to the sojourner. We must honor those we have saved from the desert. Or else why did we rescue them at all?"

Devrim bowed his head also in recognition of the man's humility. Although Timur was only three or so years younger than him, he felt old in the presence of such youthful passion. "I hope we can find a way to honor your hospitality. Such generosity is rare."

Timur's face changed slightly. "I can think of a way," he said seriously.

"Timur," Orhan warned. "Whatever is about to leave your mouth cannot be taken back again."

Devrim places his hands behind his back, "And what is it you seek?"

The young Dunesman did not hesitate. "I want the freedom of my people." Looking at Timur, Devrim guessed how many times he had wanted to say those words. They were the battle cry of the man's young heart, and yet Devrim was not entirely sure that he man knew what he was asking.

The hand on Timur's shoulder became firm. Orhan spoke carefully to his son. "We are free, my son. And this is not a discussion for a time when our guests have not been properly cared for." He turned to Junayd and Devrim, "If you would like, there is a place for you to bathe and we have new clothing for you to wear. I believe we even have some freshly woven royal cloth so that His Majesty will not feel out of place."

"Thank you, Chieftain Orhan," the Emperor was thankful that the father had a level head. "I would appreciate and opportunity to catch up with my captain and collect myself."

"Of course. Captain Caleb will show you to where you can refresh," Orhan agreed. After a week in the camp, the captain knew his way around.

"I will return to talk of this freedom, Timur. Perhaps with your father, we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." Devrim walked away in quiet dignity with Junayd and Caleb, leaving the father and son alone in the hot desert sun.

Orhan released his son and pointed after the retreating figures. "Remember how I said diplomacy was the skill of using gentle hands and not viper's fangs. His gentle hands just removed all the poison from your fangs. Time for another approach, my son."

Timur considered his words. "Do not count me out just yet, Father. I am not convinced by his smooth words. I will make sure our people get what they deserve. Either with gentle hands or vipers fangs if necessary. You'll see."