The small party wound its way through western Anatolia, up onto the central plateau so well-loved by pastoral nomads, past the oft-scarred city of Ankara and down towards the Taurus mountains. When those peaks were just assuming true definition, they reached the once-great city of Konya, where the Conclave sat in permanent session.
Yunus Emre sighed. He had not been in Karaman for about six years now and he was shocked at how horribly it had been scarred by the incessant civil wars. Matters were better near Konya, where the combattants feared to provoke the other Muslim rulers, but even that small protection was beginning to wash away.
Fahtima was equally grim. Where Yunus took in the destruction on the large scale, she recognized many villages that they had passed through, in happier days. She saw roads she had convinced her husband to build, lying half-completed or destroyed. The burnt-out ruins of madrassas dotted the landscape here and there, indicating where one a larger village had stood.
She was too numb now, but she was sure she would weep later for her homeland.
* * * * *
Yunus was shocked at how few delegates remained at Konya. He had known, of course, but to actually see it ... Ibrahim Bey, welcoming him warmly, rattled off the departures, announced or not, in an unconcerned tone of voice.
"The Tunisians, of course, last year ... the Algerians after the change in leadership, while most of the Mongols left for Constantinople and then never came back after, well,
that."
The senior statesman had aged during his time here and no longer seemed to have the fire to become upset about such things.
"Perhaps they will be back. Or not."
Yunus nodded. Saying goodnight, he retired to his bedchambers, turning over in his mind what he had come to do.
* * * * *
Fahtima was sitting in their room, staring out the window. In the murky darkness of the new moon, small fires dotted the distant hills. An occasional bark or scream drifted within earshot.
"Is this the way it goes?" she asked her husband without looking away from the window. "God drives you to build up, so you may see your good words torn down?"
Yunus didn't have an answer. He sat next to her and looked at her closely. He noticed that she now had very slight wrinkles about the mouth and on the forehead.
I would have preferred laugh lines to frown lines he brooded.
* * * * *
The next morning, the Grand Vizier entered the chamber he had fled as the disgraced vizier of Karaman. When all present in the city had gathered, he spoke.
"Six years ago, I brought you delegates together so that we may find mutual security in the solidarity of our Muslim brothers."
He gestured out the window at the ravaged landscape. "That has not happened. We have rarely had even a year of peace; the wars have been incessant. Our single victory was a bloody stalemate with the King of Georgia."
"And now," he said, his voice rising, as he paced, "most of you have found security in other arrangements, more suited to your local needs. Mongol Confederations and Arab Councils ..."
He stopped and looked about. "This," he said spreading his hands, "has proven unwieldly and ineffective. That is why I am closing this Conclave and dissolving the Devout Alliance of Allah."
There was a strained silence.
"Of course, you are not required to take my word. Although I speak for the Sultan on this matter, I am also speaking as the man who created this alliance. I recommend you all seek your security elsewhere."
With that, he turned on his heel and left. He had no desire to ever return to Konya again.
