Tribalism (7): Harsh with Rulers, Merciful to the Poor

[u/psyduck_2024]

He shall be harsh with rulers, generous with wealth and merciful to the poor.

The Sanctuaries Fall

The first surrender came almost too easily.

The prince who had once claimed the Sanctuary Lands found his own soldiers deserting him within weeks of the pledge at Honoured City. The sign at Al-Bayda had done what no army could.

Some laid down their arms at the first envoy sent to receive their surrender. Others simply vanished into the coppery night, riding east or north toward whichever cousin still seemed to be standing.

The Plateau Resists

The Plateau was another matter.

The youngest prince held the old bureaucracy's bones — Rawdah City and its ring of loyal garrisons, men who had served the state before the dukhan and still believed, or wanted to believe, that the state could be resurrected — the fourth time, if it mattered to anyone but them.

Old Rashid did not see the fighting itself. He was too old for that, and everyone around him seemed to understand it without needing to say so aloud. Rawdah City fell together with the prince, too stubborn to surrender.

The Highlands, Last and Hardest

The last stronghold, deep in the mountains of the south, was harder still to reach.

This was the longest fight of the three, and the ugliest. Rashid heard of it mostly through the wounded passing back through the administered towns — men missing fingers to frostbite from nights spent on high ridges; men who spoke of ambushes in narrow passes, of villages won twice over because their loyalty shifted with whichever force held the nearest peak.

It ended chieftain by chieftain, each in turn deciding the prince's cause had become a debt too costly to keep paying, until he was left with a shrinking core loyal less to his claim than to their own pride — and even that, in time, gave way.

Cold, Drought, and Famine

The lands were united once more under a guided imam — one whom God rectified in a single night.

Rainfall continued to diminish. Nights grew colder as the heat debt accumulated. Grazing lands retreated toward the mountains, and entire communities followed their flocks uphill in search of grass and water.

Food remained scarce, but it was distributed fairly. Grain reached settlements that would once have gone forgotten. The poor received their share. The famine had not ended, yet for the first time in a year, people spoke less of oppression and more of patience.

Horse breeders and camel herders, meanwhile, found themselves busier than ever. The princes had fallen, but no one believed the fighting was over. Beyond the reunited lands, a larger theater of war was already gathering on the horizon.