Monday, March 15, 2021

Page 3071

Abbas didn't want to kid himself. His "ascent" within the Sandlords was still relatively recent. Even disregarding the leap in fame he'd gained after defeating Ivan, his leading influence on the Golden Council only went back a mere twenty years or so.

It was tough to pinpoint an exact moment when he'd become the "strongest" among his kin. The nature of his power compared to that of the others was a bit odd. Sure, he'd been the oldest Sandlord since Mahir Dagher died and the oldest servant in all of Sair since Bernardino Blackburn died, but age alone wasn't the determining factor. Increases in soul power had diminishing returns, after all.

Regardless, in the grand scheme of things, twenty years was nothing. The blood of the Sandlords of Sair went back nearly two thousand years--or more, depending on how one was measuring.

Some within the other Hahls would no doubt see this situation as an opportunity to establish an entirely new precedent. The weakness of Abbas Saqqaf had been made plain for all to see. If someone else managed to succeed where he had failed, then why should Sandlords not follow their new leadership?

The Golden Council itself could be restructured or even discarded totally.

Whoever managed to retake Sair first would have so much leverage over the others that they could do practically whatever they wanted. They could rule. And their children could rule.

In a way, they might see this situation as a gift of the gods.

But of course, actually retaking Sair--or even just the Drylands--was easy to fantasize about but not so much to accomplish. One had to go in prepared for a fight against the Mad Demon of Abolish. And how in the world was that to be done?

Abbas just hoped that none of the other Hahls were foolish enough to try and parley with that lunatic.

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