Chapter One

Excitement filled the capitol of Calormene rumors spread like wild fire, there was going to be a campaign, it was obvious garrisons from far off were being called up citizens were conscripted to fill vacant positions, blades were sharpened arrows feathered.

The blacksmiths of the capitol had been working around the clock to fill the needs of the Calormene army, horseshoes for cavalry, chainmail repaired, and spearheads forged. Within the grand palace the current Calormene king sat atop his throne his Vizier directly behind him.

The king's eyes were on the kneeling figure before his throne, "Rise general Haytham." The general rose he was a well weathered figure his skin had a darker tint then most Calormenes, he was handsome despite his haggard appearance, a thin scar ran down his left cheek and the top part of his right ear had been sliced off. He wore a set of fine chainmail and wore a turban worthy of one of his station.

"You know why it is I have summoned you?" "I can only guess my king." The king smiled as you may know general the lands to the north have changed much since our forefathers tried to conquer them. They are now ruled by a people known as the Telmarines. We have been busy with our own borders and rebellions until now, now is the time to strike." Haytham felt the excitement rising in him he was being given command of an army greater than any he could have hoped for. "I want you to lead the campaign against these Telmarines.

Haytham bowed "I await your orders." The king dismissed him and Haytham made his way to the temple of Tash to pay his respects to the god and pray for his protection and good fortune. Haytham was known as a skilled tactician he had rose up the ranks putting down rebellions pften he found himself in the thick of the fighting slashing with his scimitar it was that reason he now bore the injuries he did, Haytham liked battle and more importantly he liked victory.

After Haytham spent an hour in the temple of Tash he left, it was late evening and the desert city was beautiful at night the sun was just a slash of red on the horizon and the desert heat was dying down to a faint warmth, torches were lit along walls to illuminate the city streets, nighttime was so peaceful, Haytham knew he would be leaving soon for the service of his king, this could be his great chance or this could be the beginning of his death, Haytham was excited as well as scared.

Haytham made his way to his quarters in the palace he fell into an unfit full sleep he tossed and turned as the dark thoughts of the night haunted him was he going to live? That question came again and again, Haytham was known to be quick with a blade and for a short temper, as a boy he often found himself mocked he was always thin as a rail and that some took meant he was weak, they couldn't be more wrong.

Since he could remember his father had taught him how to handle his fists how to use an opponent's weight against them, and how to handle a blade his temper caused him to pick many a fight he had always been fighting, it seemed there wasn't a time where Haytham wasn't in combat, from bullies he worked his way up to bandits, enemies from foreign countries and rebels, even a few duels between rival Calormene officers.

Haytham carried scars from, sword, spear, axe and dagger. He had been lucky on more than one occasion but when was that going to run out on him? Haytham finally found rest he slept a dreamless sleep, when he awoke at dawn he found himself ready to start this grand campaign, "Damn be fate." He said to himself, inwardly though he cringed upon saying something so foolish.