Fight for the Heir: Chapter Five

(This story might not be suitable for Children under ten.)

“Get Out!” snarled Raghib, throwing his cup at Qudir.
“Yes, my Lord,” said Qudir, dodging it by an inch, then he turned and walked to the door, opened it and closed it gently behind him.
“Rashad! Where is he? Rashad!!”
“Yes, my Father?” said a man, poking his dark head through the door.
“Thou art never around when thou art need!”
“Yes, my Lord,” he said, entering. He walked to a table and stood there.
“Don’t just stand there. Call together my counsel,” snarled Raghib, running from his seat at the table to his chamber.
As Raghib entered, he saw Lady Iesha “I think that thee need not shout. I heard thee from here,” said Iesha, offering, her hand.
“Why hast thee come?” Raghib rejected her hand as before.
“To see thee,” she replied, coolly.
“Thou mean to get thy way?” he said, glaring. “Thou wilt not! Get out of my sight!” He ran from the room into his private chamber. He sat on his throne and waited.
The room was wide and had nine chairs facing the throne of Raghib. Although wide, the room was musty and dark. One lonely candle sat on the table next to Raghib, lighting up the room. The chairs upon which the counsel members sat were at different heights in order to show who was of higher rank than the other.
After awhile, Rashad, son of Raghib, entered with nine men behind him.
Raghib called them as they entered. “Averey, Qudir, Blade, Akil, Malik, Mustafa, Nasser, Yarden, and Zada.”
Qudir sat in the tallest chair, but his chair was not as tall as Raghib’s throne. Then Akil sat in the next highest, then Blade and Malik, then Yarden and Zada, then Averey, and then Mustafa and Nasser.
When they were seated in the half circle around Raghib, Raghib smiled. “Malik,” he addressed. Malik stood, came forth and bowed, kneeling on one knee before him. “I hast been told that thou hast found Bibi, son of Callah?” said Raghib, quietly.
Malik stood and answered, “I hast.”
“Where is he now?”
“He is in the castle of Shamara, son of Qubilah. Most likely he will not make the night.” He smiled with satisfaction, upon the remembrance of the knife.
“Thou underestimates this boy. Where is thy weapon?”
“I left it in him,” he remembered. “However, I happened to grab his bag.”
“Give it to me!” Raghib said, shouting again.
Slowly, Malik withdrew from his orange cloak a small brown bag with a hawk on it and handed it to Raghib.
“Now at last I hast been give something of value!” Raghib gloated.
“I would hast brought thee his worthless bones and all, if those hags weren’t there.” He clenched his fist. Then, speaking softly to himself, said “I will get them!”
“There is no need for that yet,” said Raghib, going through the bag. “Here! This is what I hast been waiting for!” He lifted for all to see, a key.
“Thou needest a key?” questioned Averey, the man who bore a snake around his helm, which he held, like all of the lords and knights.
“Thou art a fool! Not a key. The Key!” Raghib hissed.
Then Akil spoke, glaring at Averey, “Thou art a fool, Averey. Thou shouldest know to attack we hast to plan our plans on their strength and weakness. This Key put us, I mean, Raghib, in the command of Callah’s castle.”
“How dost thou know that?” Averey, glared back.
“Whoever hast the Key to the treasury is the heir, right?” Akil asked. “His son is a witless boy who knows no more than a bull at the slaughter. He is no longer the heir!”
“Why?” said Averey.
“Hast thee listened to us?” Akil smiled, putting his hand on the wolf of his helm. “Raghib hast the Key, not Bibi. Bibi was carrying the key and lost it. The law states that whoever hast the Key during seven years of the King’s life is the rightful heir. Bibi hast just been given the Key, and hast had it for one year. This will put Raghib on the throne of Callah’s castle!”
“This wilt take too long!” Malik replied. “We must wait for Callah to die. I will kill Callah and all of them in their sleep, the pigs!”
“Peace!” shouted Blade. “To get fired about it wilt only reveal our plans. Now keep thy head, if thou does not want to lose it!”
“Blade, I thank thee,” Raghib sighed. “Lord’s Mustafa, Nasser, Yarden, and Zada, what hast thee to say about this matter?”
“I do agree with Malik,” boldly said Zada. “Let him have one chance at Callah and thou wilt worry no more. Thou shall also hast what thee wants now!”
“I do not worry!” shouted Raghib. “Besides, Callah is mine. Does thee understand? Does all of thee understand?! I will hast him killed! He will die.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Zada said, quietly.
“I agree with thee, Raghib,” said Mustafa, who wore yellow jerkin and a black cape, which matched his leopard on his helmet. “I only wish to wipe them out quickly!”
“Have I not been heard?” said Yarden. “I think all of us have been heard for we agree with thee Raghib!”
“Good!” said Raghib, leaning back into his throne. “We wilt start our plans tonight.”
As the weeks passed they made their plans. On day they finished news reached Raghib that Bibi was on his way home.
“Blade, Malik, Nasser, Yarden, and Zada now is the time to destroy Bibi, son of Callah. Thee knows that thou hast to do. Do it quickly and them bring him to me.”
Then into the shadows of the night rode five hooded riders.