Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) Read online

  Hiyam lowered her head. “Yes Mother.” Bahiya let go of her and moved back.

  “What would you do if the slave were to tell Commander Tanios that I used magic, Mother?” Hiyam questioned.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. The commander knows that I would accuse the slave of lying, exile him to a remote island, then wait for these fools to forget about the entire affair, and sentence him to death.”

  “But if he wins, he would be speaking as a free man.”

  “Are you trying to infuriate me?” snapped her mother. “That worthless Olothe failed like the miserable worm that he is, and now you? And to think I wanted him to marry you. Good riddance.”

  “Well, it is not that easy. This slave is—”

  “What? Are you telling me that he can withstand a well-trained team of Baal that enjoys the full support of the god of gods? Is this what you are trying to say?”

  “Not exactly, but there is something strange about him that I cannot explain. I feel as if someone is watching over him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I think he is…” Hiyam shrugged her shoulders with exasperation and blurted out, “I mean I think he is protected.”

  “Protected? Protected by whom? Explain yourself.”

  “I cannot explain it. It is nothing tangible…for instance, when he threw his dart. It was a perfect throw.”

  “He is a Silent. What did you expect?”

  “Well, I know, but—”

  “But what?”

  “Mother, calm down. Do you think this is easy? Don’t you know that I am more distressed about this whole matter than you? I am losing this Game, Olothe is gone, a slave is besting me, and you…”

  The priestess sighed and stopped pacing. She sat on a chair and looked at her daughter who was still standing against the wall.

  “Tanios may be right after all.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Hiyam.

  “I may be pushing you too much, asking too much from you.”

  Hiyam went to her mother, knelt before her, and held her mother’s hands to her cheeks.

  “But I want to be like you, to do what you did, all the wonderful things in Alep. I really want to, Mother.”

  “I know, I know…so what were you trying to say?”

  “Well, you see, I was sure that he was going to die because before I started talking to him, I invoked the protection of the orbs.”

  Her mother straightened her position in her chair. “You did what?”

  “I did not want to take any chances, and I knew I had received protection because of the usual burning sensation. That is why I acted so…carelessly. I figured a mere slave would not know how to penetrate the protective shield, so when his dart hit me, it was like a dream.”

  Her mother fell quiet for a while, and Hiyam did not dare interrupt her meditation. Her mother looked at her disbelievingly. “You mean to say that you invoked the protection of the orbs, and you obtained it?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “And his dart went through the magical shield?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Which is impossible unless…”

  “Unless a greater power than the shield is at work here.”

  Another moment of silence went by during which Bahiya mulled over the problem. “I know for a fact that the Silent Corps does not dabble in magic. Of this, I am certain. Only a master with the prescience of the Inner Circle would know how to penetrate the shield of the orbs; and this slave is certainly not a master…Was there anyone else in the cave?”

  “I cannot be certain, but I did not sense anything unusual.”

  Bahiya’s apartment was located near the Royal Hall on the third floor of the castle. A large wooden door opened directly from her room onto the balcony that circled the entire story. Opening the door, she motioned to her daughter who followed her. She crossed the wide veranda and leaned over the marble rail, peering into the night. Hiyam stood next to her and was startled by an owl screeching loudly, as if something, or someone, had disturbed the bird. Hiyam looked up, admiring the glittering stars in the beautiful, summer sky. The stillness was total; the young woman was no longer comfortable in this land. She longed to go back to Baalbeck and bathe in the sun.

  “This is a lot more serious than I thought,” said the priestess softly. “The flag of Tanniin has risen and the shield of the orbs has been pierced. A lowly slave evades a deadly trap. There may be a mightier hand behind all of this. I need to consult with Babylon. Go back to your room and await my instructions.” Bahiya’s order brooked no argument.

  “Good night, Mother.”

  Bahiya did not answer. Hiyam walked out on the balcony, toward the Royal Hall, intending to go down the royal staircase to her room directly beneath her mother’s. As she crossed the Hall of Judgment, Master Ibromaliöm stepped onto the balcony and nearly ran into her.

  “Master Ibromaliöm, you startled me.”

  “My apologies, dear lady, I was taking a stroll on the balcony and somehow ended up here.” He laughed uncomfortably. “I hope I did not scare you too much?”

  “No, I am fine. I wish you a good night.”

  “And likewise, my dear lady.”

  He stood on the balcony watching her, and she could not help but wonder what he was doing in the Hall of Judgment. Was he eavesdropping on us? she wondered. I know my mother’s shield of protection is incredibly powerful. That’s why she does not need guards at her door. Therefore, he could not have heard us, but still, I should let Mother know.

  She walked into the Great Hall, deserted at this hour, and was about to take the stairway back up to her mother when she saw one of her men climb the stairs four by four.

  “You’re here, Baal be praised! We were looking for you everywhere,” the Junior High Rider exclaimed.

  “Who is looking for me and why?”

  “Come, you must see this.”

  She followed him down the main corridor and saw a group of soldiers standing next to the Lone Tower with more men streaming in the hallway. She heard the distinctive voice of Queen Ramel.

  “This is inadmissible!” the Queen was screaming. “This is intolerable!”

  “What happened?” asked Hiyam.

  Her companion signaled for her to move faster. A sense of dread fell upon her. Something bad has happened, she thought.

  “I demand you clean my dance floor at once,” shouted the Queen.

  “I am sorry, Your Majesty, but we cannot. We must wait for the commander. He is on his way.”

  Her teammate moved aside to let her walk in first, then followed her. The soldiers parted to let them pass. Hiyam walked into the Queen’s Ballroom and froze. She even forgot to bow to Queen Ramel. On the ground, near the door, one of her men lay in a pool of blood, his hands clutching a dart planted deep in his chest.

  “It is poisonous,” whispered her companion while bowing before the Queen. “He was murdered much like Prince Olothe’s teammate.”

  “Young man, if you have something to say, say it. Do not ever whisper in my presence.”

  “My apologies, Your Majesty,” answered Hiyam. “My teammate thinks the Silent are killing us.”

  “How do you know the murderer is a member of the Silent Corps?” asked the Queen haughtily.

  The Junior High Rider felt uncomfortable. “Well, the poison, the dart. Is it not obvious? They must be…”

  “Just because someone is killed with a High Rider’s sword does not mean that the criminal is one of us, does it?” interrupted Hiyam.

  “Are you defending them, Mistress Hiyam?” snapped the young man.

  “No, but your mistress would do well not to repeat the errors of Prince Olothe,” replied the Queen. Hiyam sensed the veiled threat but did not reply. “We shall wait for the good commander to come here and clean up this mess.”

  “With your permission, Your Majesty, I would like all of my companions to be accounted for,” requested Hiyam.

  The Queen nodded dist
ractedly.

  “Go,” ordered Hiyam, “and get everyone here, but first alert my mother,” the young soldier nodded.

  Hiyam leaned against the velvet covered wall and closed her eyes.

  “So, my dear Bahiya, if I understand you correctly, the flag of Tanniin has risen once more and a slave has won the first two Games.”

  “Yes, master, this is correct.”

  “Fascinating. And so far you have not intervened?”

  “I was counting on Olothe to dispatch the slave. If you would like me to intervene, I am—“

  Master Sharr lifted his hand up into the orb of communication as a motion of silence.

  “That will not be necessary. You have acted wisely. As I see it now, we have two issues of concern. Let me start with the lesser of the two, the slave. While we most certainly could have put this young man’s remarkable talents to good use, he must not live beyond the fourth day, I am afraid. In crushing him, we put an end to the people’s dream of freedom. This champion’s supporters will see their hopes dashed and will go back to their cattle and their crops.”

  “What about the King?” asked Bahiya.

  “Why don’t you tell me about the leader of the Undergrounders? His name is Soloron, is it not?”

  “Nothing escapes you, master,” said Bahiya, bowing. “He has the wherewithal to depose the King, but he will be a mediocre leader; capable soldier, wasted talent.”

  “Use him to get rid of King Jamiir. I never thought Jamiir was fit for ruling Tanniin, but Kalibaal thought otherwise, and he will one day succeed me as Babylon’s high priest. So, I consider Jamiir’s rule a convenient experiment to teach Kalibaal a lesson. I hope you will consider my entreaty and become his mate; Kalibaal will need a steady hand to rule the Kingdom of Baal and you would be a perfect match.”

  Bahiya nodded appreciatively.

  “Once the Games are over, do not go back to Baalbeck. Tomorrow, you will use the orbs to influence Jamiir. Have him order Commander Tanios to protect you, no matter the cost. Leave Soloron to me; once his little charade is finished, I will send Kalibaal—who will convince him to abdicate in favor of Lord Orgond. Do what you must to get the commander to take you to Lord Orgond, and remain there until he is crowned King. Then, you will lend him all the necessary help to broker a truce between the Temple and the Empyreans. Although Sureï cursed most locations where a Letter of Power is hidden, he never managed to do so inside their kingdom; so you must find the Letter hidden there and curse it. The Letters of Power must never be used to open the Pit. The sole reason the Temple exists is to protect the world from the Lords of Chaos. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifices we make, the Pit must never be opened. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, master,” replied Bahiya, straining under the pressure of the orbs. Keeping four orbs stable required tremendous energy and concentration, and this exchange had lasted far longer than she had expected.

  “One last thing, daughter. I ask you to spare Jamiir’s life for the sake of my niece. I want them both back in Babylon.”

  “I will see to it that they are both well protected.”

  Sharr nodded. “Now, on to the last most and troublesome matter. We must do what is necessary to identify the one who managed to pierce through your daughter’s shield. I trust your daughter is proficient in these invocations?”

  “Yes, master, I taught her myself.”

  “Then, there is no reason to think that she may not have performed the invocation correctly. You, my dear Bahiya, will see to it that whoever has these powers may not be able to put them to use during the fourth Game. You must not fail.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Very good then. We will meet again after the third Game. Rest assured, my dear Bahiya, that Babylon is following your movements very closely, and whatever assistance you require shall be provided immediately.”

  “Thank you, master.”

  Sharr’s image faded slowly, and the milky vapor hovering between the four motionless orbs was absorbed by them. Carefully, Bahiya lowered the hovering orbs from smallest to largest back into their designated compartments, inside a silver box. Shaking with exertion, she managed to prevent the orbs from rotating in the slightest during their descent. Heaving a deep sigh, she staggered to the nearby sink and washed her face. Manipulating the orbs took a greater toll on her now, and she wondered if she was getting too old for this magic, or if a power hiding within the castle had set itself against her.

  Wearily, she lay down on her bed and mentally reviewed what Sharr had told her. The offer of assistance concerned her. This does not bode well, she thought. He does not fully trust me. Still, none of it will matter in two days.

  Bahiya heard a discrete knock at the door. She got up, closed the silver box, and placed it inside a wardrobe. She stepped back, waved her left hand, and the wardrobe’s panels closed soundlessly.

  “Come in, Menla,” she said firmly.

  An older woman, with long, curly, white hair held in a simple ponytail, stepped in. “My apologies for disturbing you at this hour, Mistress, but Commander Tanios requests an audience with Your Ladyship.”

  Bahiya knew what was coming. “Please, convey my regrets to the commander. I would be delighted to receive him in the morrow. I am afraid I would not be much of a guest at this hour of the night.”

  Before the servant could reply, Tanios stood at the door. He dismissed the servant and eyed Bahiya angrily.

  “Well, my dear Tanios, what can I do for you?”

  “I am here on behalf of His Majesty the King. You are hereby notified that any further infractions of the rules by your daughter will mean her immediate disqualification.”

  She had expected recriminations or complaints, but this was downright crazy. “Are you out of your mind? Do you know how Baal will react if the Temple’s team is disqualified?”

  “And how will Baal react if news of its team relying on magic to win were to reach the crowd?” retorted the commander with a faint smile.

  “How dare you?”

  “Precisely what I wanted to know: how dare you?”

  Bahiya looked away.

  “This is not the time, nor the hour to open old wounds,” continued Tanios, “but I am warning you, Priestess…”

  “My name is Bahiya.”

  “That is the name of someone I knew, a long time ago. You are a priestess of Baal, and that is who I am warning. If you do not want to deal with major civil unrest, get your daughter to play by the rules.”

  “Why did you give this slave permission to take part in these Games?” snapped Bahiya. “If you had refused him the right to participate, none of this would have happened.”

  “I know that a slave earning his freedom means nothing to you…”

  “That is not what I said.”

  “But that is what you mean; gold, power, and ambition, no matter the cost—isn’t it, Priestess? To you, anything or anyone who stands between you and gold is an annoyance, someone to be rid of. Well, this slave is exceptionally gifted in all respects. He could remain a slave, become the leader of the Silent Corps, and lead a well-respected life here at the castle. In fact, as a slave, he could wield more power than most free citizens could ever dream of. Yet, he put his life on the line because he wants to return to his father, his mother, and his sister. They mean more to him than any amount of gold. I respect that.”

  “But he may die in these Games and never see them again.”

  “Don’t you think I tried to stop him from taking part in these crazy Games? Do you not think I…” Tanios sighed deeply and continued in an even tone. “I can no longer control him,” he said, turning his back to the high priestess. “His temper is a raging sea. It frightens even me.”

  Bahiya felt dizzy. She took a couple steps back and held herself against the drapes that covered the wall. “Don’t tell me that the famous Commander Tanios is incapable of taming a slave—”

  “Yes, that is precisely what I am saying, Priestess. If this was a natural an
ger, I could have taught him how to control it…” He turned around to face her. “Do I need to remind you that I have had my share of loss and betrayal?” He gripped a nearby chair and closed his eyes. “No,” he said in a measured tone. “This is something entirely different.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I am saying we are running out of time. By the laws of the kingdom, I must wait until he is twenty-one to set him free. I am afraid that soon his temper will get the best of him; like it did when he disrespected you the night before the Games. What if his temper flares against the Queen or the King? The first five years went well, but now I can see him slipping away. If he lashes out against the King, the law will demand his head. I did not allow him to enter the Games so he may win his freedom; I did it to give him a chance to stay alive.”

  They stood facing each other silently. Tanios sighed and was about to leave when Bahiya held his arm and squeezed.

  “Babylon is issuing orders as we speak. If you value the life of your slave, do not, under any circumstance, mention which village he is from. If you do, he will certainly die.”

  Tanios stared at her in shock. A high priestess would not voluntarily disclose valuable information to one such as himself unless she wanted something else in return. Disturbed, he pulled away gently, nodded, and left the room.

  Slowly, Bahiya slid down against the wall and sat on the floor.

  “Tanios, if you only knew,” she said, crying softly.

  Kalibaal was a priest of Baal of the Inner Circle, which comprised the select few who could walk alone behind the deepest curtain of the Temple and into the terrifying spell world without losing their sanity. Ponderously, he walked barefoot on the cold, dark stones of the inner temple—a reminder of the nothingness of man when standing in the inner sanctum of Baal. He ignored the searing pain caused by the icy-cold stones, pushed out a dark curtain, and entered a small alcove where High Priest Sharr stood facing a blank wall. Sharr briefed him on his latest conversation with Bahiya and then casually added, “Tell me, Kalibaal, what do you make of the lights that appeared on the eve of the first Game? What do you think these lights mean?”