40. Amoreb

Amoreb’s king Hasan would not be so unlucky as to fall to Mendek, instead his realm was devoured by the popular will. Thousands had been converted in Yasir, Wahatan and Isra, slaves had been freed so often that the royal coffers were bustling from the indirect taxes levied on the slave trade. The peasantry had more food than ever, the cities were bustling with marble, the bellies of the underclasses filled to the brim, and the country seemingly a bastion of stability. Autumn seemed to be sliding into winter, and the year of 570 would see the perplexing rise of idolatry. Church of Light priests tried to corral the masses back into line, guards attempting to put people back in order.

“I hear that Hitara has fallen to Mendek,” a soldier whispered to another.

“Are we next?”

“Have neither of you been outside,” another soldier interrupted, “every house has those idols to the God of Trade, at this rate they’ll build a temple even without Hasan’s permission.”

The light blue flag with a golden flame fluttered in the morning sun, it mirrored the sun and the sky most beautifully, but Amoreb’s sun was setting, two rival polities clearly vying for it. Some people openly walked with crossbows, a symbol of Yerek that openly put the authorities on edge. Unlike Poltu, Amoreb was more liberal with its policing, but such flagrant lack of respect and lack of authority did not bode well. The bars had people openly carrying the tricolour. They were mostly a rabble, but the bar was filled with respectful and quiet people, albeit carrying seditious symbols.

“Yerek will rule these lands soon…” an old man said, putting a statue to the God of Trade on the still, “can I have a drink?”

“It is as you say, soon enough, we will not have to pay for our bread, I have some family in Wersh, they say that money is barely used and only for luxuries, what a life they must live.”

“I hear the Raja kingdoms are unifying,” one man said, “one Raja kingdom under the Church of Light.”

“To think everyone was scared of the Church of Light invading everywhere,” an old crone said, “now they are the ones on the back foot.”

“Mendek is a threat to us all,” a man said, “even the Republic fears them.”

“The Republic is a mercantile state, allied itself to two other deities to deliver prosperity,” a man openly bragged, “it’s strength is not the army, Mendek’s is the army.”

The peasants spoke so brazenly that the secret police began chastising them. Sizing up the people at the bar with exasperated expressions and tone.

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“You can’t discuss this shit here, this is Amoreb!” One of them began.

“For now,” a woman replied.

The agents of the law pursed their lips in pure fury, but they were so hopelessly outnumbered that they simply sat next to the city folk and heard the conversations as it developed further.

“The evangels that have come to Amoreb, have brought so much supplies I wonder how they do it, I have heard rumours of their farming evangels.”

“The God of Farming?” The agent of the law asked, hopelessly lost in their task for they now asked like common travellers.

“Yes, supposedly they grow food with God Powers, they can supply their whole country with bounty, and even wood,” an old man said, “I do wonder how it fully works though.”

“They will have evangels here, and temples I’m sure of it!” A woman said, “I’ve seen one of the Trade evangels, dark skinned and handsome!”

“There were several,” the bartender said, “Mardonius, Nichomachus and Zelra from what I’ve heard, they’ve blatantly subverted the city, right under their noses,” the bartender said, his eyes staring at the soldiers with obvious suggestion.

“Right under our noses?” One of the soldiers said.

“Did you think Utbah was going to cross the border?” The bartender asked half joking.

“A part of me did,” the soldier admitted, “and you, what did you think?”

“Personally I think Utbah is a liability to the Republic,” the bartender said.

“Oh?” The soldier said.

“He’s a soldier with his own loyalties,” the bartender said, “no doubt he did a tremendous service to the Republic.”

“You talk as if we already live under it,” the soldier said.

“It is only a matter of time,” the bartender replied.

People swigged some beers inside the bar, people sat on comfortable sofas or hard chairs by the bar. It was wooden mahogany, small lanterns put in various places, with a distinct lack of external light beyond the doorway. Green cushions and red painted tables in some parts, and an upstairs. While the patrons drank, the revolution went underway. Paupers and ex slaves marched on several barracks, the soldiers themselves joining in the taking of half the streets. All three major cities quickly fell to the Republic, as well as most of the countryside.

“Yerek will protect us from Mendek! Down with the King!”

The tricolour replaced the old flag, and the Church of Light priests despite their throwing of fireballs were chased off the streets. King Hasan and his family managed to escape thanks to some overzealous Church of Light priests, but their kingdom crumbled rather peacefully. Beyond a few hundred burnt corpses, there were few casualties. King Hasan rode into exile to Jira. His retinues shouting at him to resist more forcefully against the subversion.

“You should have mobilised the army!” One of them shouted, “killed more people, you’d have a kingdom at least.”

“I was a king who respected my people’s wishes, I will not go down in history like king Ahmed, wilfully slaughtering people. And I do not wish to remembered in a manner like Spendius will be, that cur will have everyone cursing him, mark my words,” Hasan said.

“At least he has a realm,” a snarky general openly disrespected him.

The King stared at his subject, and the general stared back. Dark hair and eyes interlocking one another, the King not even bothering to reply.

“Let Yerek and Mendek fight,” Hasan said, “then we take back our kingdom afterwards. Maybe the Raja state rumours are true, we will get expeditionary armies coming to help us.”

“Ever the optimist, while we tread through sand, completely destitute,” the same general said, with pure fury in his voice.”

“Do calm down,” the king said, “two of our enemies are going to fight each other soon.”

To that there was silence, for there was truth in those words.