The Reborn King

It had been a week of constant back-and-forths between Harun and Nasr. Both sides would send small forces over the bridge at night to harass the other. Neither side was willing to fully commit troops to an all-out attack, due to the narrow crossing. For Nasr, this was fine as it gave Mansa more time to try and draw away Harun's troops.

For Harun, it was a slight annoyance as his small force on the opposite side of the bridge slowly ran out of food. He expected his brother to be impulsive on the battlefield as he had never been on it. He was always someone who acted on impulsive behaviours and he didn't see why it would be any different here. 

It was strange to Harun. His usual impulsive brother was delaying the attack. While it made tactical sense, it betrayed his character. "Grandfather. Don't you find it strange that he isn't moving?" Harun unable to think looked to his best advisor after his sister.

Ali, smoking a pipe, looked at his grandson. "You brother isn't a fool Harun. He wouldn't have been able to worm his way into the Sultan's seat otherwise." Ali took a deep inhale of his pipe, "You're thinking like a general trying to understand the motives of a politician." With his whole body relaxing, Ali slumped into his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

Harun thought about his grandfather's words. Nasr was impulsive, but he was also a snake. Walking out of the tent towards the edge of his camp, he looked at the large camp opposite the river. He spotted one of his scouts and walked over to him.

"Tell me how many men were counted across the river?" Harun words surprised the scout, who jumped in fright.

"Your Grace." Giving a quick bow he looked back across the river. "It is unknown. They're too clumped up together to make an accurate count. But from the initial count when they first crossed into the north it was between 16,000- 20,000." Harun nodded. he already knew this. His mind spun once again. Why was his brother so fine with waiting?

"Have you seen Nasr in the camp at all?" The scout nodded. Placing his hand on his chin he tried to think. His grandfather's words echoed in his mind, but they weren't exactly right. Sure his brother was a politician but he was surrounded by generals. The name of one man in the Sultanate came to his mind. The only man who filled both categories and Nasr's greatest advisor right now. "What about General Mansa?"

The scout was about to speak but stopped himself. His eyes squinted at the camp trying to remember but it suddenly hit. "No, your Grace. I'm sorry, I should have reported this before. I just assumed he was by Prince Nasr's side." He deeply bowed over his slip-up, realising he made a grave mistake. 

"Ask around with the other scouts and report what they say, you have vie minutes. When done come to my tent." Harun waved him off and quickly returned to his council's tent. 

"Gather everybody, right now, no matter what they are doing." Harun fired the order to the two guards of the tent as he took his seat, staring at the map. Mansa was the one man he feared on the other side, and him being a ghost was an even more terrifying thing. 

The council gathered in ten minutes, and quickly took their seats. They could see the nervousness on Harun's face. "Mansa has disappeared." His words were quiet and confused all those present. "He is not in Nasr's camp." Like being struck with lightning, everybody went stiff understanding the gravity of the situation. They all knew Mansa's ability.

"Your Grace. Has he just left, when did this happen?" One advisor asked.

"He has never been there. None of the scouts realised until it was brought up." Harun stood up and walked towards the map. "We know that Nasr crossed into the north with between 16-20,000 men. Mansa wouldn't let him mobilise every lord in the Kingdom, worrying about the south and west, so we could assume it should be around 17,000." Harun paused and looked at the map.

Ali smiled seeing this. He had already gathered what had happened when it was confirmed Mansa wasn't across the river, but it was time for his Grandson to grow; growth that would be needed for when he became Sultan. "The Northern Highway." Harun turned back to his council, "What are our defences like across the Northern Highway?"

"A skeleton crew. We left what was necessary in each fort in case the Grand Prince sent raids against us, but against an invading force, only the border forts have the troops, and they have been ordered to stay out of the war." Ali's words hit Harun like a bombshell. He understood why the order had been given but it was still annoying.

Another advisor stood up, "If we are to assume that he went north with a thousand men, it is likely most forts they come across will surrender. The men won't throw their lives away against overwhelming odds. He probably will only meet resistance as he gets close to General Ali's fort." It was disappointing, and Harun knew it was a great danger for Mansa to be left alone. 

"Get the scouts to do a count of the men across the river. We don't have the luxury of taking a guess anymore. We need a near-accurate count." He paused and looked in the direction of Nasr's camp. "Grandfather. Can we spare to send any troops north?"

His voice was desperate. Ali shaking his head was like a punch to the gut. Harun fell into his chair. His self-loathing smile on his face. With a long exhale he spoke, "We have two options, we either attack or give up our position and fall back. Both are terrible. We sacrifice the skirmishing force sent behind or we attack a choke point."

He regretted giving the order to destroy the second bridge now. He thought it was a great tactical move at the time, but now he had shot himself in the foot. Leaning his head back he looked at the ceiling, "we need a miracle right now." He quietly said under his breath, as his advisors went over the best cause of action.

"Harun," Ali spoke softly to his grandson next to him getting his attention. "You are too narrow-sighted right now. Your brother has just sent away his greatest general. Sure he will have the advantage when defending, but he doesn't know war. And his advisors. All southern lords who haven't tasted war in years. Very few of them will have even been leading the western front all those years back." Ali gave a mischievous smile. Harun looked at it, his confidence returning. 

"I'm sorry grandfather and my lords." Harun lent over placing the pieces representing his and Nasr's troops on the table map of the river. "Let us prepare the attack." With a smile, we said getting the blood flowing in all those around the table.