The Berber camp was set up with cautious efficiency, the men working quickly to create defenses and prepare for the inevitable retaliation from Spain. Rashid's thoughts were preoccupied with the approaching storm, both external and internal. Despite the victory at the oasis, the price he paid in the battle—both in his own strength and in the toll the Eternal Flame took on him—was heavy.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the desert, Rashid sat alone in his tent, staring at the map spread out before him. He traced a path with his finger, marking potential routes for their next moves and considering how best to stay ahead of Spain’s larger forces.

A quiet knock interrupted his thoughts. Safiya entered, her expression serious. “We need to talk.”

Rashid looked up, his eyes weary. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Malik,” Safiya said, closing the tent flap behind her. “I’ve heard whispers among the men. Some say he’s been seen meeting with our enemies.”

Rashid’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure of the details,” Safiya replied. “But there are rumors that he’s been seen conversing with Spanish scouts and even sharing information. It’s causing unrest among the troops.”

Rashid’s jaw tightened. Malik had been one of his most trusted commanders. The idea that he might be betraying them was almost inconceivable. But if there was even a shred of truth to the rumors, it needed to be addressed immediately.

“I’ll speak with him,” Rashid said, rising from his seat. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”

Safiya nodded, her worry evident. “Be careful, Rashid. If Malik is involved, we need to understand why. It could be more complicated than simple betrayal.”

Rashid found Malik sitting by the edge of the camp, staring out into the desert. The night had fallen, and the stars were bright against the dark sky. Malik looked up as Rashid approached, his expression unreadable.

“Malik,” Rashid said, his voice steady but firm. “We need to talk.”

Malik stood, his posture tense. “What about?”

“There are rumors,” Rashid began, his eyes searching Malik’s face. “Rumors that you’ve been meeting with Spanish scouts and sharing information.”

Malik’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m a traitor?”

“I don’t want to believe it,” Rashid said, his voice heavy. “But I need to know the truth. If you’re involved in something that could endanger our forces, I need to know why.”

Malik’s face darkened. “I would never betray you, Rashid. You know me better than that.”

“Then explain what’s going on,” Rashid pressed. “Why are there reports of you meeting with our enemies?”

Malik’s eyes flashed with frustration. “I’ve been trying to protect our people. There are factions within the Spanish ranks that aren’t aligned with the main army. Some of them want peace, and I’ve been trying to negotiate with them to secure a truce.”

Rashid’s eyes widened in surprise. “A truce? And you didn’t think to discuss this with me first?”

“I was trying to act quickly,” Malik said, his voice rising. “We’re outnumbered and outmatched. A truce could give us the time we need to regroup and strategize.”

Rashid’s mind raced. Malik’s intentions might not be malicious, but acting without consulting him could have disastrous consequences. “Did you think a truce would be possible? That we could simply negotiate our way out of this?”

“I hoped so,” Malik said. “But it’s clear now that Spain is determined to crush us. My efforts were in vain.”

Rashid took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. “In the future, consult with me before making decisions that affect the entire army. We’re in this together, and we can’t afford to act on our own.”

Malik nodded, his expression somber. “I understand. I’ll be more careful.”

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As Rashid walked away from Malik, the weight of the confrontation settled heavily on his shoulders. He couldn’t afford any more surprises or potential betrayals. Trust within the ranks was crucial, and if Malik’s actions had jeopardized that trust, it could unravel everything they had worked for.

Safiya caught up with him as he headed back to his tent. “What did Malik say?”

“He claims he was trying to negotiate a truce,” Rashid said, his tone resigned. “But his actions were reckless. He should have come to me first.”

Safiya nodded. “We’ll need to keep a close eye on him. But we also need to focus on our next steps. Spain will be coming after us, and we can’t afford to be divided.”

Rashid agreed, though his thoughts were troubled. The Flame within him was restless, reacting to the stress and uncertainty of their situation. He could feel its heat rising, and the temptation to use its power to control the situation was strong.

As the night deepened, Rashid lay awake in his tent, unable to sleep. The stars outside seemed indifferent to the turmoil within him. The Eternal Flame was a constant presence, its whispers growing more insistent.

You’re losing control, it murmured. Soon, you’ll need me more than ever. Embrace the power.

Rashid fought to block out the voice, focusing instead on the task ahead. Spain’s forces would soon close in, and he needed to be ready. But the uncertainty of Malik’s actions and the growing influence of the Flame made it harder to maintain clarity.

The following morning, Rashid received an unexpected visitor—a rider from the Spanish camp. The rider was a man of medium build, dressed in a well-maintained uniform that indicated he was of some importance. He was escorted to Rashid’s tent, where he waited with a mixture of defiance and apprehension.

Rashid regarded him with suspicion as he entered the tent. “What brings you here?”

The rider straightened, his demeanor confident despite the danger of his situation. “I come with a message from the Spanish commander.”

Rashid’s eyes narrowed. “And what is the message?”

The rider took a deep breath, his gaze steady. “Our commander is willing to negotiate. He’s prepared to offer terms of surrender for your forces, provided you agree to cease hostilities and withdraw from the territory.”

Rashid’s heart skipped a beat. The offer seemed too good to be true. “And why would Spain offer such terms now?”

The rider shrugged. “The commander believes that continuing the conflict will lead to unnecessary bloodshed. He wants to avoid a prolonged war and secure a favorable outcome for both sides.”

Rashid exchanged a glance with Safiya, who stood nearby, her expression thoughtful. The offer was tempting, but it also felt like a trap.

“Why should I trust your commander?” Rashid asked, his voice cautious.

“The choice is yours,” the rider said, his tone unyielding. “But know this: Spain’s forces are closing in. If you refuse, you risk annihilation.”

The rider’s words hung heavy in the air, and Rashid’s mind raced. The Flame within him stirred, its whispers growing louder.

This is your chance, it urged. Accept the offer, and you’ll save your people from destruction.

Rashid’s gaze hardened. He couldn’t make a decision based on the Flame’s temptations. He needed to consider the welfare of his people and the strategic implications of the offer.

“Leave your message,” Rashid said finally. “I’ll consider it.”

The rider nodded, his expression unreadable, and left the tent. Rashid stood in silence, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. The offer was a potential lifeline, but it also carried risks. He needed to weigh his options carefully and consider the impact on his forces.

That evening, Rashid called a council of war. Malik, Safiya, and other key commanders gathered around a makeshift table, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of lanterns.

“We’ve received an offer from the Spanish commander,” Rashid began, his tone serious. “They’re willing to negotiate terms of surrender for our forces if we agree to withdraw.”

The room was filled with murmurs of surprise and skepticism. Malik’s expression was one of guarded interest, while Safiya’s gaze remained sharp and focused.

“What terms are they offering?” Malik asked, his voice low.

“They haven’t provided specifics,” Rashid said. “But the rider implied that Spain wants to avoid further bloodshed and secure a favorable outcome for both sides.”

Safiya frowned. “It sounds like a trap. Spain has already shown their willingness to fight. Why would they suddenly offer terms of surrender?”

“That’s what concerns me,” Rashid said. “The offer seems too convenient, and it comes at a time when we’re vulnerable. We need to be cautious.”

Malik nodded. “If we accept the offer, we might secure a temporary reprieve. But if it’s a trap, we risk walking into an ambush.”

Safiya’s gaze was thoughtful. “We should consider the strategic implications. If we reject the offer, we’ll need to prepare for a full-scale assault. But if we accept, we need to ensure that the terms are favorable and that we’re not being deceived.”

Rashid nodded, his mind racing. The decision was not easy, and every option carried risks. But one thing was clear: he couldn’t make the choice alone. He needed the counsel of his trusted advisors and the support of his people.

“We’ll need to carefully evaluate the terms and assess the risks,” Rashid said finally. “I’ll send a response to the Spanish commander requesting more details. In the meantime, we need to prepare for the possibility of an attack.”

The council agreed, and the meeting concluded with a sense of urgency. Rashid’s thoughts were heavy as he left the tent, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. The offer from Spain was a potential turning point, but it also held dangers that could threaten the future of his people.

As Rashid prepared for the days ahead, he knew that every decision would be crucial. The Eternal Flame within him continued to whisper, but he resolved to keep his focus on the bigger picture. The future of Morocco—and the fate of his people—depended on the choices he made.