Swords of Justice
Chapter 8: Jalal's Story
In truth, Jalal did not descend from the royal family at all—he was adopted by one of the king's ministers, a man named Younis. Younis was among the most loyal ministers to King Hussein, a kind-hearted man who would donate his own wealth to help the poor and needy—so much so that he sometimes went without food for days just to ensure the poor had eaten their fill.
Minister Younis had once married a sick woman from a poor village, whom he had helped in the past. Sadly, she passed away only a few months after their wedding. He had loved her deeply, and so he never remarried.
Ten years ago, news arrived that a certain village had been struck by a devastating famine. Younis set out at once with a few soldiers to bring aid, but unfortunately, he arrived far too late. Most of the villagers had already perished. Heavy-hearted, he searched through the ruins—until he heard the faint cry of a small child behind one of the buildings. Rushing toward the sound, he found a frail, barely breathing boy. Younis scooped him into his arms, mounted his horse, and sped toward the royal palace. By great fortune, they reached the palace physician in time. The doctor examined the child and said to Younis:
> "Don't worry—he'll wake up in a few hours."
Relieved, Younis ordered soldiers to guard the room, allowing no one to enter or leave except the doctor. Then he went to the kitchen and instructed the chefs to prepare the finest dishes and drinks for the poor boy.
When the child awoke, he was startled at first, but soon took comfort in the warm bed and the beauty of the room. Then Younis entered to check on him. Delighted to see the boy awake, Younis had the servants bring in the lavish dishes he had ordered. Within minutes, they arrived carrying plates of exquisite foods and fine drinks—meals the boy could never have imagined even in dreams. He began eating greedily from every plate, dirtying himself in the process. Younis chuckled, happy to see the boy enjoying himself, and ordered everyone else out so he could watch in peace.
Even after his stomach was full, the boy kept eating, as though afraid it would all vanish. Younis smiled and said:
> "Easy now, lad. Don't force yourself to keep eating—it's not healthy."
The boy replied between mouthfuls:
> "This is my dream, and I'm the master of it. So don't interfere—let me be."
Younis laughed.
> "You're not dreaming, boy. This is real life. I'm the one who brought you here."
The boy paused, holding a piece of meat.
> "My father told me—if you ever find the chance to eat, eat without hesitation."
> "And where is your father?" Younis asked gently.
The boy chewed, swallowed, then said:
> "He's dead."
> "May God have mercy on him. Forgive me for asking," Younis replied.
The boy pushed the plates away, unable to eat any more.
> "Why did you help me, sir?"
Younis smiled.
> "You needed help, so I gave it."
> "Strange… why would a man of your status help a worthless boy like me?"
Younis's tone turned firm.
> "Don't ever say that again. I am a minister of the Kingdom of Dar Homsan. If I don't help my people, then who will? God would hold me accountable for neglecting them. I was blessed with this position to be a righteous minister—betraying that trust is not an option."
He paused, his eyes lowering with sadness.
> "Today, I failed to save your village, and I feel guilt and shame. How can a minister not aid his people? I thought I had let God down. But when I heard your faint cry, I realized He had given me a second chance to make amends—by helping you. From this day, I will consider you the son I never had. I will raise you well, give you the life any boy would dream of, and atone for my failure through you."
The boy sat silent, unsure what to say. Younis wiped his tears, lifted his head, and smiled.
> "What's your name, boy? How old are you?"
> "My name is Jalal, and I'm nine years old."
> "Well then, Jalal, from today onward, the palace will be your home, and you will be under my care."
The maids bathed Jalal, dressed him in fine clothes, and prepared a private room for him. The young boy felt as though fate had finally smiled upon him, granting him the beautiful life he had always dreamed of.
Younis had him study alongside the other ministers' children. But when they somehow learned that Jalal had once been a beggar from a poor village, they bullied and rejected him. Seeing this, Younis decided to tutor Jalal himself, for he loved the boy dearly.
Two years later, Jalal—now eleven—had mastered proper manners and outperformed all the other ministers' children in his studies. Younis was proud, though the other boys' resentment only grew. How could a boy from a backward village surpass them? Jalal began to feel he didn't belong—that he was just an outsider. One day, Younis told him:
> "When the weak can't find fault in the strong, they attack their origins."
Those words motivated Jalal to keep excelling until, one day, they would be forced to acknowledge him.
When Princess Hasna turned ten, King Hussein decided to throw her a grand birthday celebration, inviting all the ministers' children—including Jalal, as Younis's ward. Jalal dressed in his finest clothes, ready for the occasion. As Younis adjusted his outfit, he smiled and said:
> "I know you haven't met Princess Hasna before, but believe me—she's a girl of remarkable beauty. You'll be impressed."
> "Don't worry, uncle," Jalal said nervously. "I won't embarrass you. I'll behave politely."
Younis chuckled.
> "Relax—just enjoy the party. Be yourself, meet new friends, and live in the moment."
In the grand royal hall, lavishly decorated, Princess Hasna entered with her attendant Maryam, wearing the most beautiful gown, and sat on an ornate throne. The atmosphere was joyous.
Meanwhile, the ministers' children, including Jalal, stood in line in the royal corridor, awaiting permission to enter. Some boys sneered at him:
> "Why is this trash allowed into the royal hall with us? Get lost before the princess orders your head cut off!"
They all laughed, but Jalal ignored them. Then the great doors opened, and they were invited inside…
To be continued.