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She ordered the falconers to dispatch the signal, not to retreat, but to advance.

She descended the stone steps, her armored skirts clinking. As she reached the center of the gathering, she drew the blade, the metal catching the setting sun.

"Surrender is not a strategy, Gidi. It is a waiting room for death," Malika said, her voice calm but carrying across the terrace, silencing the argument below. queen_malikamp4

Malika didn't look back at her advisors. She focused on the horizon, where the smoke of burning villages stained the sky.

"Queen Malika, your people are scared," Prime Minister Gidi said, his voice trembling. "They say it is time to surrender the eastern grain stores to buy time." She ordered the falconers to dispatch the signal,

"The Fire-Stalkers believe they are fighting a girl," Malika told the leaders. "They will learn they are fighting the dragon of the savannah. We do not hide behind stone walls. We ride."

With a roar that outdid the wind, Malika breached the camp. She was no longer just a ruler; she was the warrior she was born to be. "Surrender is not a strategy, Gidi

The dust of the savannah hadn't settled, but Queen Malika stood unmoving atop the highest terrace of the Azzazian citadel. Below her, the coalition of tribal leaders argued, their voices rising like the desert wind. They doubted the 17-year-old queen could hold the line against the encroaching Fire-Stalkers.