Lines of carriages streamed through the ornate gate leading to the palace grounds. The crowds in the square showed many combinations of long white thobes or grey morning suits, full gowns or embroidered jalabiya, top hats and fezzes and hijabs. Greetings and close conversations swirled in English, Arabic, Swahili, Hindi, and various other languages from around the Equatorian Empire. Anhalt was short but powerfully built, dark and grim of face, with the solid military bearing of a Gurkha. He walked with a cane and carried a heavy leather attaché. His general’s uniform caused no great stir here near the palace where generals were plentiful. Most of the other officers striding the area were bedecked with glittering chests full of medals and citations, but Anhalt’s tunic was plain except for his emblems of rank. Still countless officers and enlisted men recognized him and saluted. He struggled to return the greetings as he limped along. “Good morning, General!”
