Chapter 64 - When Swords Are Sheathed
The war was over—but peace had not yet arrived.
From the still-burning coastlines of Kilwa, General Malik and General Simiyu stood over the broken remains of a war neither of them had truly wanted.
Kilwa would heal from this. The Kilwan men, women, and children worked slowly—doing anything to lift the scars in their hearts.
They sent out two messengers—one from Nuri, another from Kilwa—to carry the truth of what had transpired.
One messenger would ride to the Nuri camp and deliver word of victory and new burdens. The other would face a far more delicate task: informing the Kilwan army that their homeland no longer belonged to the Sultan, and that their brothers and sisters on the coast... were gone.
The Kilwan messenger rode without rest. Dust clung to his skin. His eyes stung from the memories he tried to suppress—blood still coating several buildings, rubble and bodies still laying in the streets.
By the time he reached the inland Kilwan camp, his horse staggered beneath him. But he would not stop—not until they knew.
Dozens of Kilwan soldiers gathered as he dismounted. Their faces were drawn and wary, half-expecting good news, half-fearing the truth.
"What happened?" one of them asked, his voice tight.
The messenger didn’t speak immediately. He scanned their faces, knowing what his words would do to them.
Then, voice raw and hollow, he began.