Shorab interrogates his uncle

Shorab decided he could not execute his uncle without a trial. He resolved instead to interrogate him.

He found Anis lounging in a perfumed chamber, surrounded by cushions and half-empty goblets of wine. The man wore a loose silk robe and smelled faintly of myrrh and rose oil. His greying beard was neatly combed, and his heavy-lidded eyes glittered with sharp intelligence. Servants drifted in and out like shadows, bearing fruit and incense, until the new sultan dismissed them with a flick of his hand.

Shorab sat across from his uncle and fixed him with a cold stare.

"Uncle Anis," he said. "You were close to my father. You shared his blood, his counsel, and his table. Tell me now, did you **** him?"

Anis blinked slowly before laughing. It was not a mocking laugh but one of disbelief.

"Kill Abuz? My own brother? Never. I am many things, Shorab, but I am not a murderer."

"You were always jealous of him. Everyone knows it."

"Of course I was jealous. He had the throne, the gold, the women. Have you seen Yasmina? Now there is a woman worth dying for. And your father got to fuck her whenever he pleased. Her mouth, her breasts, her cunt, all belonged to him. And that golden palace on the hill was his. But envy does not mean I wanted him dead. And even if I did, what would be the point? You are his son. Sons come before brothers. I would never wear the crown. I do not even desire it. I prefer wine, poetry, and warm thighs to politics. I have no wish to be the sultan."

Shorab studied his uncle’s face. Against his better judgment, he believed him. Anis spoke with the weary conviction of a man who truly wanted nothing more than indulgence.

"Then who killed him?" Shorab asked. "Who had the motive?"

Anis leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate.

"It was the vizier. Zain."

Shorab frowned. "The vizier? Zain has served my family for decades."

"And he has grown fat and greedy from it," Anis said. "You know what he dabbles in, do you not? Dark arts. Black magic. He keeps a room in the palace that no servant is allowed to enter. I have seen the signs. Blood on his sleeves. Strange symbols carved into wax. He has always lusted for power, and now he has found a way to seize it."

"You believe he killed my father with sorcery?"

"I am certain of it," Anis replied. "Execute him, Shorab. Do it quickly, before he kills you too."

The chamber seemed colder all of a sudden.

Shorab stood, his thoughts spinning. His father’s blood cried out for justice. And yet… could he truly execute the vizier on nothing but his uncle’s word? What if Anis was lying? What if this was part of a deeper game, and he was nothing more than a pawn being moved across the board?

He left the chamber without giving an answer. Outside, the palace loomed in golden silence, but within his mind, suspicion burned like fire.

Someone was lying.

But who?

And how many more would have to die before the truth was revealed?