I was a child when Sheba was at the height of its breadth and stability, my name was not known at that time, outside the walls of the village in which I was born, the village was small, dotted with houses of mud and milk, and a small river passed near its edges that gave life to crops and palms on the banks, I used to see men and women cultivating the land and extracting wheat from it that provides us with strength, and frankincense rises with its fragrance towards the sky, expressing an inextricable link between people and their gods, and between the earth and the sky.
In my childhood, the world was beyond my ability to understand, but at the same time it was simple in essence We used to hear the news of the royal capital, the city of the sun shield with its majestic palace and the temple of the sun, as if it were legends from another world, and the trade routes opened an endless horizon. Caravans of camels loaded with incense, spices and precious stones passed us from time to time, heading to distant kingdoms at that time, King Al-Haddad was a young ascendant, who had not yet reached the peak of his power, but he began to lay the foundations for long-term rule.
My entry into the world of politics and power was not an expected event for those who grew up in a village far from the hustle and bustle of capitals, but a strange coincidence led me to the world of the royal court. It happened when I accompanied the sheikh of our village to the capital on the occasion of the solar holidays there. I saw Haddad for the first time a king with a majestic body, and eyes that do not miss the smallest details. I was holding in my hands old texts written by former sages in our village, parting with him that a boy of my age is able to decipher those manuscripts. He asked me questions. I did not understand its significance at the time, so I stuttered at first, and then the words of knowledge exploded from my mouth as if I was recalling from the memory of the ancestors what I did not realize that I had memorized that day, glimpsed the mourning in the ability to decipher the past.
Thus began my journey, the capital became my home, and the palace my school, and the Haddad is the teacher whose skill and acumen I gradually undertook, he taught me how to read the history of Sheba not only from letters, but from the corridors of the palace, from the gaze of senior leaders, and from the silence of the old sheikhs He taught me that politics is not only an open conflict, but also whispers in the shadows, and signs shining in the eyes of servants and soldiers alike.
Years passed as I rose from an assistant advisor to a greater advisor in that era, Sheba was like a lush tree with roots in a distant history, and its branches bent over trade routes, shading travelers and merchants and giving them safety. Al-Haddad knew how to rule with a rational mind, directing the army without entering into absurd wars, controlling the hearts of tribes with religious texts and legal documents that guard justice among people, and he established the traditions of celebrating the sun, not only as an idol, but as a light. It inspires justice and consistency, as if its daily sunrise is a renewed covenant between the ruler and the ruled.
I could see the courtiers growing, alliances getting complicated, and I understood that the king was not just a man on the throne, but a knot in a complex social fabric. During all those years, the blacksmith kept sending me on secret diplomatic missions, sometimes to rebellious tribes, sometimes to a distant kingdom overlooking the seas.
Over the decades, the body of the mourner weakened, but he did not lose the brilliance of his mind. I saw him re-read the history of his kingdom with ailing eyes, but he clung to a clear vision. "The future is always for the changer who is able to withstand." He knew that he would not last forever, and that his departure would test the power structure he had built in the last years of his life, I saw how whispers of skepticism began to creep out of the corners of the palace, how sheikhs appeared telling stories of old customs that prevented women from assuming the throne, and how those whispers hint at a certain moment After the departure of Haddad
Still, the king was quiet and contemplating his daughter and heiress with a look of pride and sadness, knowing that her presence on the throne was a new experience that Sheba would go through, and wondered in his secret whether she had enough resilience and wisdom to face a world that was still skeptical of the female's ability to drive.
I was near him, reading him old texts from the palace library, helping him settle old scores, and writing down his last notes, which later turned into commandments from which he hoped Bilqis would bear something.
That fateful day came, when the voice of the servants became louder and the doctor called me to tell me that the king would not hold out until dawn. He immediately went to Princess Bilqis' suite and invited her to her father's dormitory. I saw him in his dying moments, a lean body but his eyes still radiated with that spirit that I had known since I was a child. He whispered to me, his voice like a roaring wind, "O Khazabala, protect the legacy, and be a shadow of my daughter as you were present in my shadow." He knew that his death would not be the end of a story, but the beginning of a chapter. New is the most challenging.
After his solemn funeral, I sat behind the throne, and Bilqis ascended to it with the burden of an unforgiving history. I saw with my own eyes how the looks of the tribesmen were transformed from them who respected the Haddad dynasty, and some who dared to show doubt. Wouldn't she need a man to share her rule?" I understood that the rise of Bilqis was not a smooth passage, but a confrontation that would take many forms.
In the following days, the world I had known since I was a child was changing, a tense spa, like a tight bow and a string. I knew that there were men in secret who were conspiring, not only out of faith in deaf doctrines, but out of a desire for power and domination.
Today, I stand behind Bilqis in the throne room, and I see her trying to build on her father's legacy, on the intelligence she derived from a long life in his care. The dilemma is not only in hereditary legitimacy, but in the complex traditions that are now being hatched against her, and in external winds that may exploit this apparent weakness for distant interests. It is an unforgiving world, just as it was in my childhood when I first heard stories of old conflicts, but now it is more subtle.
People say about me the Grand Chancellor of the Kingdom of Sheba, and the shadow that moves behind the throne, I found myself in an inevitable confrontation with a reality that I never imagined would reveal itself so clearly, the Haddad king is gone and his daughter Bilqis now bears the burden of an entire kingdom His teachings, which I have always imbibed, rang deep down in me as if they were aphorismans from ancient times but today, these teachings must be transformed into concrete actions that protect the new throne.
In the Great Hall, wearing the guilded robe of the Chancellor of the Doctrine, I saw Bilqis taking her position on the throne, the eyes of the tribes, rulers and sheikhs were following her carefully, looking in her features for weakness or hesitation, some of them saw in her ascent a sign of weakness, being a woman, and others considered her just a tool that could be manipulated to achieve their goals, but I, Khazabala, I know Bilqis very well, I saw her growing, and I know that there is a flame inside her that no one can extinguish, the flame of mourning burning.
But I also know that there are enemies waiting for it in the shadows, enemies who do not recognize its legitimacy and see its existence only as an opportunity to reshape power in Sheba in their favor It was not only with men who wanted to dominate, but with the old ideas that dominated the minds of tribal sheikhs, ideas that refused to accept women as leaders and rulers.
I stood at that moment behind the throne, where I could see everyone without seeing me, I saw the doubt in their eyes, the whispers that reverberated among the tribal leaders, the poisoned words that littered the corners after the coronation, I noticed that the whisper was increasing, and I felt that there were conspiracies woven in secret. The atmosphere was charged, and the challenges facing Bilqis were daunting, like towering mountains threatening to cast a shadow over their shoulders.
The next night, when the palace was dark, she headed towards the balcony of Bilqis where she was standing, staring at the dim lights of the city, and when she saw me, she turned with her eyes carrying questions she did not want to be answered, there was a deep question about what to do next, and about how to confront the opposition that is growing day by day.
I entered the Queen's room with the weight of space around me, as if I were stepping through an air in which all the conflicting meanings gathered, the smell of frankincense ignited by the years on the thresholds of the throne, and the echoes of death whose wings still flutter at the edges of memory after the departure of the mourner. My path this night was not paved with the usual ceremonies, for since the death of the king, time has become as if it withdrew from its natural sources to hover around a worrying void, a void now filled by his heiress Bilqis, who sits behind gilded doors, waiting Advice threads and light advice.
Every step I took towards her, I calculated the distance not the actual distance between me and the throne, but between power and light, between old custom and renewal, between the doubts of the tribesmen and the walls of the palace The look of her eyes, when she lifted her up towards me, she spoke a lake wrapped around a nucleus of determination I saw a sparkle in her eyes, a sparkle like a dying sun on the horizon of a wandering kingdom, and yet she refuses to extinguish She smiled inside me that still has the light of mourning in her blood, although the palace men and rural elders did not believe it.
I bowed thoughtfully, neither a fawning obedience nor a hidden arrogance It is a signal that the rational eye shines like a combination of old respect and current caution I know that times have changed Titles alone are no longer enough to impose prestige, and the mere raising or lowering of the head no longer fools those who have learned to read beyond gestures I was a fool knowing that this moment is a test, and that every word must take its place in this political chessboard.
I said to her in a voice mixed with the humid breezes of dawn, "My queen, in the corridors of the palace there are many whispers, and in the distant courtyards the shadows of men who are only inhabited by suspicion." Here I was checking her pulse, planting what looked like a needle under the skin, to see how she would react. Will she confuse you? Will you get angry? Will you project power inherited without wisdom? But her eyes repelled my turmoil, she accepted the words, yes, but she still beat with questions.
She replied quietly, hiding anxiety, "So I've heard what they're trading... a governing council, perhaps a partner in power" She knew that these whispers were not spontaneous, but maliciously paved They are testing them, some want to restore outdated traditions, some of them fabricate norms that never existed, only to undermine their stability. She realized that she was aware of the problem, but perhaps she had not yet discovered the essence of the question, why now?
So, I raised my left eyebrow, that slight movement that only those who are accustomed to the corridors of my brain can notice and I said, "Daughter of the Sun, if it were just a traditional objection, your royal decree would shine and the heads would bow to it, but the real question is why are they now digging into the ashes of old covenants?" With these words she threw a stone into the well of her mind, to see how the waves of perception would rise on the surface of her mind.
I saw her look closely, and in her silence a mirror reflecting the shadows hovering around her, she asked me a bewilderment, not a weakness but a need for more precision, "What do you mean, Khazabala?" Here I smiled in my intruder that Bilqis understands that politics is a puzzle, and that she must learn the art of analyzing time and place is one step closer, and in this movement is very symbolic, approaching here is not just a physical step, but a deeper penetration into the folds of the conspiracy.
I whispered to her, "Why now? Because the absence of Haddad has created a vacuum, my lord, a living entity in the minds of the covetous, a space that can be filled with an alternative, with a new symbol, they do not object to your femininity in general, but to your emerging power before it takes root Who benefits from your destabilization?".
Here, I saw her eyes narrowing, as if trying to see in the dark a man holding the strings of dolls that she understood, or began to understand, that targeting her was not just a usual deviation of tradition, but a planned plan to seize power before her legitimacy took root. She replied, "They are looking for a loophole that I will not back down." I stood inside me applauding her inner resilience. Her steadfastness is what I need as a hidden ally working behind the curtain.
But I didn't want to let her think that force alone was enough. I told her in a quiet didactic voice, "My queen, strength does not defeat doubt if you show excessive rigidity, they think you are just a shield that hides fragility and if you show softness, they accuse you of weakness." Here I put a conceptual framework for the dilemma that any overreaction would be a stone to add to the fortresses of her opponents. This is the game of shadows, my queen, we must light the shadow, not get into a blind fight with him.
When she asked for my advice, I didn't give her the final solution, but I opened a door for her to lead to a maze of strategic thinking, I said, "They hide behind imaginary traditions, they want to take the initiative, so how can we make them appear in public with their true intentions?" Here, she handed over the thread to her to create a wise advisor who does not impose solutions, but provokes the intelligence of the ruler, and she has already picked up the thread: "If I gather them in the temple square in front of the people, they will be forced to declare their demands if they retreat, I was the one who is open and they are closed-minded, and if they attack, they expose themselves."
I clapped lightly, and I made sure that the sparkle of my eyes had increased. I passed the test, but the game was not over. There was another level of complexity that posed a second dilemma before it. "But suppose they used the public meeting to present their demands in a way that makes you stuck between two fires, what if they claim to care about the interest of the Kingdom?" Here I gave her the biggest nail You, Bilqis, are stuck between pleasing them and angering them, between showing strength or condescending. She did not hesitate long to tell me about a stronger vision, not just a reaction, but an initiative that transcends the darkness of the conspirators She talked about the legacy of mourning, about showing that Shams Sheba does not discriminate in giving between a man and a woman, and about an advisory board that gives them the opportunity to express an opinion without approaching the decision-making authority.
I smiled at her, this time more sincerely warmer, "This is how savvy is, daughter of Haddad," and then I let her rearrange her thoughts, giving her a chance to sense the power of her new choices. I am sure that the night, along it, will only be a prelude to a coming sunrise.
Behind me, I kept feeling that our words still reverberated in the air of the room, as if they were echoes over a sea of possibilities and today, I realized that I am no longer only protecting the legacy of mourning, but also contributing to the creation of a new era, an era in which Bilqis dares to break into the labyrinths of shadow with thought and not with the sword, even if her opponents master hypocrisy and whispering, she masters listening and transformation, and such a queen is not easily defeated.
Thus, I left, confident that the sun would not fade in the veins of those who had inherited the mourning, and that I, the Grand Chancellor Khazabala, was not just a voice in the shadow, but a binocular that allowed the Queen to see beyond the darkness.
After leaving the room, I found myself in the long hallway leading to the throne room, where the torches danced on the heavy stone walls, and painted overlapping shadows, as if they were the letters of an unfinished puzzle. I was reliving our dialogue within me, matching what I said with what I expected the queen to say. Bilqis crossed the gate of the test, and showed the amount of flexibility and foresight necessary to inaugurate her reign in the kingdom of Sheba.
I knew that the ideas she had instilled in her mind would begin to coherence to form a clear plan now, and we have adopted the approach of revealing "others" by making them speak in public, it is my turn, the grand adviser as a joke, to move in the corridors that the queen's eye does not perceive. It is not enough to put them in public traps. It is also necessary to light the corners of darkness and gather the threads of the conspiracy before weaving a carpet of doubt and betrayal under the queen's feet.
With silent steps, I headed towards the deserted parts of the palace, where the old warehouses and the little-used corridors there, at an almost hidden crossroads, some servants and guards gather at night, exchanging brief news and whispering the names of mysterious personalities who have heard about "Malik bin Riad", who is said to gather sheikhs from behind the curtain, and about "Sheikh Hamdan", who whispers texts from an old era in which it is forbidden for a woman to sit on the throne except under male tutelage. These all need a trap bigger than just a public temple yard that needs to A sense of false security, and the certainty that those who hold the strings of the game do not know that the game has been started by them, and that its scenes have been drawn in the mind of the adviser since the departure of Haddad.
I stopped a guard whose old loyalty I trusted to the throne "Raad" who served with the Haddad since his youth and I looked him in the eyes with a long look that I did not say anything, but he understood this is how we always understood each other Raad realized that he had to observe some faces among the guard soldiers, and to collect for me the names of those who whisper a lot in the dark nights, I know that conspiracies are not hatched with one hand, but with hands that think themselves safe in the shadows.
In the darkness of the night, I found myself returning to my little suite in one of the upper corners of the palace, the one overlooking the gardens under the moonlight there, I sat in silence, contemplating the distant oil lamps, and trying to read the paths of fate Sheba in front of a fateful test Either power passes smoothly to a new generation, carried proudly by Bilqis under a fair sun, or slips into the maze of tribal conflict, where the idea of arbitrating ancient texts becomes a way to tear the unity of the kingdom But I knew that the time of mourning He was more fierce in some periods, and we were able to survive with his wisdom, and now, in Bilqis's mind, I have an open window from which to overlook the world of ideas, weaving from it a policy that simple conspiracies cannot nullify.
At dawn, when the air cools before the solar warmth is emitted, the news spread that the queen was ready to invite the tribal sheikhs to meet in the temple yard. I heard the servants circulate the news before Bilqis even officially announced it. This is a good signal. What is rumored hidden always reveals currents under the surface. If the words preceded them, it means that someone was waiting for a similar step, and perhaps considered it an opportunity to announce veiled demands. Here the stones are on the playing board, and we have to wait for the next move. of opponents.
But I do not wait for a negative I sent a "ghost", my spy who is not visible to the eyes, on a special mission sneaking into the rooms of some distant sheikhs, listening to their whispers behind the curtains, and watching who enters and who exits. Nothing is prettier to my satisfaction than hearing the name of a sheikh mentioned in the form of an alliance with another, or from seeing a letter carrier sneaking in at night with a document wrapped in cloth lest you hear his rattle. We are in the stage of collecting small pieces to build the whole picture.
When the scene becomes clear to me, I will return to Bilqis with an unquestionable bundle of evidence, supported by insight, and the temple will not only be a testing ground for the queen, but a theater where facts are revealed, intentions are revealed, and perhaps after that confrontation is over, no one will dare to claim that the sun can be obscured by a handful of fabricated traditions.
Here is the plan in my mind a young queen on the throne, who declares noble intentions in public, engages the tribes in advice rather than in governance, and opens the doors of dialogue to force the suspicious parties out of their reservoirs and behind, I move other threads that gather the treacherous heads in an impermeable net, so that they cannot escape when the light of truth shines on them.
The next day I was about to come, and a cold breath leaked out of the window I smiled softly and closed my eyes, for I know that the next morning of Sheba will be full of expectations that morning, the Kingdom will breathe something new as a step on the path to restoring tranquility and stability.
At that moment, a strange sense of tranquility spread in my body, no matter how loud the whispers in the distant corridors, no matter how proud the conspirators were of their shadows, the day would come when Bilqis, the daughter of Haddad, would manifest an unobscured sun and with every step we take, it would grow brighter, and I would be more certain that we were on a path that would lead Sheba to a more balanced era, an era in which the boundaries between fire and light would be drawn with complete clarity and unambiguity.