Chapter 129- Calm Before the Storm
Quiet months passed like a dream wrapped in mist. The port city of Assab had become a beacon of life and renewal. Khisa, ever tireless, found himself lost in the rhythm of duty—training sailors at dawn, overseeing the construction of ships by midday, reviewing maps and blueprints by sunset. But even amidst the grind of war preparation, something softer had taken root in his life.
Azenet.
Every morning after his drills and every evening before the sun dipped too low, she would find him. Sometimes with tea, other times with honey bread and sweet words. They’d walk along the length of the port together, past former slaves now apprenticed as carpenters, smiths, and sailors—men and women learning freedom one task at a time.
Assab had transformed. What was once a rough outpost had grown into a thriving hub. The shipyards now stretched further than they ever had, with nearly twenty massive warships completed and more in progress. The checkpoint system had expanded deeper inland, reaching Gondar, turning slave rescue routes into secured lifelines. And everywhere, voices hummed with cautious hope.
On one cool morning, Khisa sat with Tesfaye beneath the canvas shade of the naval command post. The scent of brine hung in the air, and the rhythmic clanging of hammers against hulls echoed in the background.
"We need to accelerate our plans," Khisa said, eyes narrowed on a map pinned to the table between them. "Right now, things have been calm. A bit too calm. We have to strike first. The campaigns in the kingdom are over, and the army has rested. It’s time."
Tesfaye folded his arms. "You think they’re plotting something?"
"I know they are. We haven’t seen Ottoman ships for months. That’s not a sign of retreat—it’s a sign of preparation. They’re mobilizing, and we can’t wait until they bring the fight to our shores."
Tesfaye frowned. "Things have been going smoothly. Do we really need to disrupt that?"
"Yes, Tesfaye," Khisa said firmly, "we must burn their ships in Massawa and Zeila. Trap them in their ports, cut their supply chains, sabotage their medicines and weapon stashes. Civilian casualties must be avoided at all costs, but the military must be crippled."
Tesfaye studied him, seeing not just a strategist but a man weighed down by years of war. "Will that really work?"