General Ahmed has died fighting a treasonous uprising that occurred in the cotton plantations of Jin-Noon. Born in Nar-Ruta in the year 377, Ahmed Alyar was second cousin to the imir of Jin-Crolah. He joined the warden army at the age of twenty and rose through the ranks to the most revered position of general, below that of his leader of the guild—the most revered Warden of Strength. He is survived by a daughter, Anoor, age seven, and his spouse, Disciple Uka Elsari.
Bless his journey to the sky as he takes up his place next to our God, Anyme.
—Obituary of General Ahmed, The People’s Gazette, year 407
“Why weren’t you at dinner?” Anoor was waiting straight-backed on her bed.
“I had it in the kitchens, like a proper servant.” Sylah was tired. The day had been a long one.
“Why?”
“Gorn and I had a chat.” Sylah sank onto the bed next to Anoor. She didn’t need to look to feel Anoor’s soft eyes gazing at her.
“Oh, she curdles my insides sometimes, I’ll talk to her.”
“Don’t.” Sylah laid a hand on Anoor’s thigh. “It’s fine, it’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
Anoor was looking at Sylah’s hand on her thigh and smiled. Sylah pulled away, aware of the warmth of Anoor’s skin on her palm.
“We have less than four weeks until the tactics trial,” Sylah said.
“Can’t we have another night off?” Anoor whined.
“No, we don’t know what terrain the trial will be held on, so we need to study them all. You’ve struggled to pick up the basic principles so far, and we need to get this right.” Sylah made her way into their little training room, Anoor followed halfheartedly.
“What does tactics even mean?”
“Tactics is the strategy that achieves a goal. And your goal is to win.”
Anoor sat cross-legged, and Sylah paced back and forth in front of her.
“Every tactics trial has been a team task, pitting one side against the other in unexpected terrain, and the losing team is removed from the competition.”
“How will I know what to practice, if I don’t know what the terrain will look like?”
“That’s why we’ve got to practice it all. You won’t find out until the day of the trial.”
“Hmm.” Anoor sucked on her bottom lip. “I think for the last Aktibar my mother’s tactics trial was based out in the desert and her team had to steal an eru from the other team and lead it back to their base.”
“Exactly, it could be anywhere, at any time. In buildings, in a lake…and the treasure could be an eru, crown, shoe…they’ve used all sorts of things over the last few decades, but that’s not the important bit. The main thing is to understand the maneuvers and approaches that will guarantee your win. You will need to work as a team while also ensuring you don’t get injured. On average only thirty make it through to the next round, despite there being fifty spaces. We will review all the previous tactics trials as well as the warden army approach to skirmishes up and down the empire, to truly understand the technique to success. Tactics is very simple really, it’s all about understanding the enemy and figuring out the best strategy to attack.”
“How do you know so much about the Aktibar?” Anoor’s eyes were wide. Wider than usual, that is.
Sylah looked deep into them.
“My…father was interested in it. He told me the stories before he died.”
“Tell me about him.”
Papa was angry today. They all knew to avoid him when he was angry. When he was angry, he broke things, broke bones. “All so the spirit can mend stronger,” he would say in his apology later. Sylah had loved him more in those moments.
The Stolen got good at hiding.—
“No.”
Anoor recoiled as if struck. It was a look Sylah was sick of seeing, like she was the victim.
“He died…I don’t like to talk about it.”