On the second floor of the Dabagia Palace, Surt gazed irritably at the room opposite his temporary office, wishing that someone among the ten or so people inside would suddenly jump out and tell him, "I know a shocking secret about the Sultan."
But over the past ten days, these brothers and nephews of the Moroccan Sultan had offered nothing of value apart from pleas for mercy.
He had no choice but to start organizing the defense of Marrakesh City to counter Sultan Suleiman's army's counterattack.
However, he had only 3,500 Portuguese and Spanish soldiers and 4,000 Algerian soldiers, and with the lack of ammunition supplies, he was not confident of holding the city for long.
Just then, his staff officer suddenly rushed in, waving the letter in hand excitedly: "Commander, they agreed, they agreed!"
Surt quickly stood up, "The General Staff agreed to our withdrawal? No, the message couldn't have reached Paris that quickly."
