The Palace


The sultan was a large man but by no means slow. As he paced back and forth across his private chambers Ashim constantly had to scurry out of his way. The Sultan had an intense stare and fixed it alternately on Ashim or whatever valuable piece of furniture that was blocking his path.

“When they bring the man here, I do not want him immediately tortured. Let us first wash him and dress him in some fine robes. Let us have him at the dinner feast and speak to him as if he were any gentleman. Then, before dessert, bring him to the dungeon and have any three of his toenails removed.”

“Yes, of course sire.” Ashim did his best to commit this to memory, but as the Sultan proceeded with description of further torture and banquet foods, he resigned himself to checking the security footage later.

It was unknown to the present Sultan that the previous one had installed every piece of surveillance gear conceivable in the ancient palace walls. On the other hand it was quite well known to the generals and to Ashim, all of whom were great fans of the previous Sultan, and all of whom had an unwavering desire to see Sultan Al Rashi b’Elah writhing on the floor of his own dungeon with three toenails missing. Unfortunately the idiot citizens adored the man, and he had few vices which could be caught on video and publicly released.

As with all great men, Al Rashi did no work himself. He merely made decrees and had obsessions. This man, though, was not only the obsession of the Sultan, but also that of his generals and all corporations and governments the world over.


SMR 99.11.30