Page 109 - Microsoft Word - FANG EMPIRE - NOVEL.docx

Judar sat at his desk trying to ignore the commotion. Dolman, a tidily dressed civil servant,

stood before him and gave his report.

“My pasha, I don’t understand. The caravan left from Marrakesh weeks ago. Our scouts

saw it at Taoudenni! It should have been here.”

Judar took an administrative form from his desk and began to write on it.

“I’m authorizing a scout party. Have general accounting work up a new requisition form

for my—”

“Do you need a fucking form for everything?” said Ramoth.

“For my signature,” Judar continued. “The caravan may have been ambushed by bandits.”

“I’ve waited over a month for those things!” shouted Ramoth. “A fucking month!”

“I’ll expect your full report tomorrow morning, Dolman,” said Judar.

“Report,” Ramoth grumbled.

“As you command,” said Dolman with a nervous tone, bowed and quickly exited the

office.

“I can give you a full report right now. We’ve been fucked!” said Ramoth.

“Do you know any other word?” said Judar as he rose from his desk. “Come with me.”

He left the room. Ramoth followed begrudgingly.

They walked through the central office’s administrative hive of hegemony. Wooden desks

lined the majestic foyer of the royal palace; an area that used to receive dignitaries now received

itineraries, no pomp no circumstance, not a drop of glamour or grandeur. Ramoth watched as

almost identically dressed civil servants worked at their desks and walked briskly to and fro.

“Busy bees… producing no honey,” said Ramoth. For an actual moment he missed King

Kanja.