“What is it, boy?” the Sultan of Kasimir demanded testily. He had been in a deep sleep and was in no gentle mood. “Well?"

The servant hesitated, and then he spoke fearfully and reverently.

“The Oracle, Siadee,” he whispered. “She has spoken."

The Oracle sat curled up in the far corner of her room watching the desert. Her large black eyes, though framed by the wrinkles of extreme old age, were as bright as ever. She was an ancient, toothless woman and had served the Sultan, his father, and his grandfather, all her life. Her family line was of long standing seer blood, but none of her own children had shown any sign of the gift she bore. She never spoke of her family. She rarely spoke at all. But on this night just as she had been drifting off to sleep, her eyes had suddenly flown open and her shrieks had filled an entire wing of the palace. She had looked deep into the eyes of the first servant to reach her and gasped:

“Beware! Comes the stranger’s child from the outside. From a trusted friend the child forth will come. The child of the stranger comes to the ruin of all. Beware! The face of beauty belies the poisonous heart. Only the child of the desert has the sight to save us all. Only she can see the snake within, for she can see with the purest sight. The child of the stranger…the child of the desert…”

The Sultan looked at the Oracle, staring blankly out into the dunes, and read the prophesy. He felt fear clutch at his heart. He had never known the Oracle to be wrong before, but he desperately prayed she was now.

“The ruin of all,” the Oracle had said. Ruin. Why did this have to come to his generation? He thought of his young son, Kalam, only ten years of age. Would his son, the son of kings, have a Kingdom to inherit? Could this Stranger’s Child steal his future? No. No!

He stood and clenched the prophesy in his hand.

“Wake the council!” he shouted. “Wake them now!”

As he stormed from the room, followed by a swarm of anxious servants, the Oracle turned her head. Her black eyes swam with tears.

“What does this mean?” He demanded of his advisors. “And don’t fob me off with vague nothings! I want an answer now!”

All four held copies of the prophesy and though they were still a little sleepy, they understood the serious nature of the prophesy demanded their immediate attention. The oldest of the council, Abdar, raised his head and looked around at his fellow councilmen. He was in the habit of speaking for them when Shilome, the head of the council was absent.

“Siadee,” He said calmly. “Who can know? We must first discuss it and decide what is to be done. Now, who is the Stranger’s Child?”

The youngest councilor, Padam, looked up. “A child from another country, I should think. No child in our own country could be considered a stranger’s child.” The others nodded.

The Sultan shook his head. “But, there are no strangers in our land now.”

A heavy-set, and still very sleepy, advisor spoke. “Pardon, Siadee, but there are the German Ambassador and his wife…”

Abdar threw him a scornful glance. “Don’t be a fool, Tabor. They have no child, nor will have. They are old and their children are grown.”

“Well, but…” Tabor protested.

“Besides,” Padam interrupted. “They have been in the country for many years now. How could they be considered strangers? No, I meant Shilome’s nieces.”

“Who?” The Sultan was surprised. “Is Shilome back from Europe?”

“Not yet, Siadee,” Abdar looked thoughtful. “He returns this afternoon. He brings his sister’s daughters.”

“Daughters!” The Sultan paled. “Stranger’s Children.”

“No,” Abdar shook his head. “That doesn’t fit either. The Oracle spoke of a single child, not two. Anyway, Shilome’s sister, Jasmine, was no stranger. Her children could never be strangers here.”

“That’s true,” Padam acknowledged. “I had not thought of that. Perhaps someone else is coming soon. People from outside come through all the time.”

“The simplest solution is usually the best, after all.” Abdar nodded. “We must keep our eyes out for visitors with children. It shouldn’t be hard to find the child now that we have been warned.”

“I have heard,” said Tabor hesitantly. “Jasmine married an Englishman. He would be a stranger. I would consider his children to be the children of a stranger.”

“What are you saying? These are Jasmine’s children. I would even consider them Shilome’s children!” Padam argued. “He has adopted them and so they are his own!”

“The prophesy says the child would come from a friend.” Whined Tabor defensively. “Who else could it be?”

“I don’t believe it!” Abdar folded his arms. “And neither do you! You just want this discussion to end so you can go back to bed.”

“Or have an early breakfast!” Padam snorted.

“Enough!” The Sultan frowned. “This bickering isn’t getting us anywhere. Daban, you have said nothing through all of this. I know your reserve often keeps you silent when others with less understanding speak freely, but I believe your wisdom might guide us best in this matter. Come, speak!”

The Sultan had a respect for Daban’s advice that none of the rest of the council shared. Tabor looked nervous and a little sulky. Abdar and Padam exchanged glances, but said nothing.

Daban raised his dark, hooded eyes and sighed deeply. He wasn’t nearly as old as Abdar, but his sunken features, the effect of long years of illness, made him appear older. One by one, he stared at each member of the council. He spoke slowly, in his resonant and silkily persuasive voice.

“The children of the English stranger must not be allowed to become a threat to the Sultan.” He locked eyes with the Sultan and lowered his voice. “You know what you must do, Siadee. You must stop them now, while they are young. For your son’s sake…”

Abdar frowned. “What are you suggesting? We don’t even know for sure…”

“Silence,” The Sultan raised his hand. “Daban raises an excellent point. The threat should be dealt with as soon as possible.”

“But, Siadee…”

“No, Padam,” The Sultan said. He continued, but his voice shook a little. “A decision must be made. The Stranger’s Children must be stopped. You heard Daban. They must be taken. They must questioned and then they must be put to death.”

Abdar and Padam leapt to their feet, horrified.

“But, Siadee,” Padam began. “You cannot…”

“How dare you!” The Sultan shouted. “I cannot? I cannot? You forget your place, young man!”

“Siadee!” Abdar pleaded. “Is not haste in such a case dangerous? We have much yet to discuss. What of the Desert Child? The Prophecy said she would stop the Stranger’s Child. Perhaps we should seek her out and…”

“Fool!” Daban suddenly stood as well. “There is no time! You would wait! For what? How would you know the Desert Child? If the Sultan destroys the threat now there will be no need for a Desert Child, if there is such a person. Siadee, you must see that action is required. You will lose all you have, all your son might have, if you do not act swiftly and with decision.”

The Sultan’s hands shook and the whole council could see the fear and panic in his eyes. He turned from the council, striving for control. The Sultan was no coward, nor was he cruel, but his faith in the Oracle was strong and his love for his family stronger than any other influence in his life. He would do anything to save his son from suffering or loss. Anything.

When he spoke, his tone told the council there would be no more discussion. The decision had been made.

“Shilome’s nieces will be taken. They will be taken and they will die. The threat against the kingdom will end. It will end now.”

Copyright © 2008 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Laura Lyle