The Kingdom of Zambesi had begun to fall apart ever since Valoria abruptly pulled out of the country. Valoria's support had been the backbone of Zambesi's modernization efforts. Now, without it, everything was unraveling. In the capital city of Maputo, the evidence of this decline was everywhere.
The roads, once bustling with construction to improve infrastructure, were now abandoned. Heavy machinery sat idle, gathering rust, while half-finished bridges and overpasses stood as symbols of broken promises. Projects that were meant to bring modern utilities—electricity grids, water distribution, and sanitation—were incomplete, leaving large sections of the city in darkness.
Power outages had become the norm, with many areas going days without electricity.
In the rural regions, things were even worse. Valoria had promised to help modernize Zambesi's military with advanced training and equipment. But that modernization never fully materialized. With Valoria's sudden withdrawal, shipments of modern weapons and military gear halted, leaving the Zambesian army ill-equipped to handle growing internal threats.
In particular, the Matalebe tribes, once a fragmented and disorganized resistance, had quickly seized the opportunity to grow stronger. They began launching calculated raids on military outposts and supply convoys, taking advantage of the army's lack of resources. These raids were no longer small skirmishes—they were coordinated attacks aimed at weakening Zambesi's already stretched defenses.
King Mwanga sat with his top military commanders, staring at a map covered with red marks showing the latest Matalebe raids. The atmosphere was tense, frustration and anxiety evident in every face around the table.
"Our forces are spread too thin, Your Majesty," General Malaki said, his tone grim. "We've lost control of the northern border. The Matalebe have overrun two outposts there in the past week. Without reinforcements, we're going to lose more ground."
King Mwanga listened, his face stern but weary. "How many casualties?"
"Over fifty soldiers killed in the last three days alone. Many more wounded. We're running low on medical supplies, and the Matalebe are hitting our supply lines hard. We can't get reinforcements or equipment to the front." Find more to read at mvl
The king's hand tightened into a fist on the arm of his chair. The withdrawal of Valoria's support had left Zambesi vulnerable, and now the Matalebe were taking full advantage. What had once been small, disorganized raids were turning into full-blown assaults. The tribes, once scattered, were now uniting against the government.
Mwanga clenched his fist, a knot of anger twisting in his gut. External support—yet another reliance. The bitter taste of Valoria's betrayal still lingered in his mouth. But the truth was inescapable: Zambesi couldn't hold off the Matalebe alone.
"What about Triesenberg?" an advisor cautiously suggested. "They've been expanding their influence in the region. Perhaps they would be willing to help."
"That was the plan, to contact Triesenberg," King Mwanga said, his voice laced with frustration. "We sent a letter days ago, formally requesting assistance. But as of now, we've received no response."
The room fell silent again as the weight of his words settled over the group. The letter to Triesenberg had been their last-ditch effort to stabilize the crumbling infrastructure and military, and to secure a new, powerful ally. Yet the lack of response gnawed at him. Time was running out, and without help, Zambesi was in serious danger of falling apart entirely.
General Malaki cleared his throat and spoke carefully. "Your Majesty, could it be that Triesenberg is considering the offer carefully? They're known for their calculated decisions, especially when it comes to alliances. They may need time to evaluate the situation before committing."
Mwanga's brow furrowed in irritation. "They don't have time. We don't have time! The Matalebe are growing stronger with every day that passes. I need to know where we stand. If Triesenberg intends to help us, they need to say so.
If not, we must explore other options."
An uneasy murmur ran through the room. Other options? There were few left. Zambesi's resources were nearly depleted, and other nations had little incentive to intervene. Without outside support, the kingdom was left vulnerable to both internal rebellion and external forces.
One of the younger advisors, a man named Tembo, spoke up. "Your Majesty, perhaps we could send a second envoy to Triesenberg? A diplomatic delegation might make the urgency of our situation clearer. A written request might not convey the true desperation we're facing. They have an office in Gaborone, Votswana."
"Okay send an envoy to Gaborone."