Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) Read online

  Kalibaal winced. Inwardly, he chided himself on his carelessness. How did I not notice it before? He looked his master in the eye and answered softly: “There is no mistaking; the Seer yet lives.”

  “The Seer yet lives,” nodded Sharr. “Our last attempt has failed. He managed to escape.”

  Kalibaal waited for the rest. He knew that Sharr’s knowledge and experience of the spell world far exceeded his.

  “Eighteen years ago,” said Sharr, “a mysterious messenger uttered a prophecy in the northern realm of the dwarfs foretelling the coming of the Seer of Destruction. Six people were present and heard it. Some years later, one of them, a woman, fell severely ill and in her delirious state, spoke of the prophecy. Her nurse, a devotee of the Temple, related the news to the local priest, a faithful child of Baal, who unfortunately, dismissed the story as the ravings of a sick mind. By the time we heard of it, the woman was gone and all our efforts to locate her have failed.”

  “Is this the Pit of Fire prophecy?” asked Kalibaal.

  “Yes indeed, this is the infamous Pit of Fire prophecy. We tell everyone it is apocryphal, but we cannot ignore it.”

  “So then, how was it possible that we could not find this woman?”

  “She must have had powerful allies. Be it as it may, the prophecy spoke of a great sign in the heavens four days before the Seer would be set free. Isn’t it peculiar that these strange lights were seen the eve of the Games of the Mines?”

  “Surely, the prophecy could not mean freedom from slavery?”

  “Good point, my dear Kalibaal. If this were a local prophecy exclusive to Tanniin, freedom from slavery would be justified, poetic even. But this is a prophecy pertaining to the Seer of Power. Its meaning is far reaching and clear: in two days hence, the Seer will be set free from the bonds of ignorance and will discover his first Letter of Power.”

  “What are your orders, master?”

  “I fear the Seer is slipping away from us. Release the Béghôm.”

  “The Béghôm, master? I do not understand. This creature was made to fight the Marada.”

  “Any creature of the spell world will help us ferret out the Seer. The Béghôm is the least of the creatures we can release. Release him.”

  “He will wreak havoc—”

  Sharr waved his hand dismissively. “Victims are always required to keep the Pit shut. Release him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Has the Urkuun reached the Empyrean Kingdom yet?”

  “Yes, sir. The being of power you unleashed from the spell world is there now, and he has begun rallying many to his cause.”

  Sharr glanced at Kalibaal briefly. “My son, you must not fear these creatures. They are yours to command.”

  “They are creatures of the Pit, master,” replied Kalibaal. “The Temple’s knowledge is deep, I know. Still, much is hidden from us.”

  Sharr shrugged his shoulders dismissively. “The Urkuun will do as instructed. He cannot break the curses that shackle him.”

  “Your wisdom is far-reaching, master,” said Kalibaal, bowing.

  “Command him to move to Tanniin. The Fortress of Hardin sits atop an ancient lair of the Urkuuns. Let him take his abode there.”

  “But sir,” replied the man, alarmed, “surely the danger is not as…”

  “It is the Seer of the Letters we are dealing with here,” replied the high priest dryly. “If, as I suspect, he is alive in Tanniin, we must stop him. If he finds but one of the twenty-two Letters of Power—only one, you hear—he will set in motion a series of events that will spell the doom of the Temple and unleash forces on the world, the likes of which we have never seen before. It must not be. In this matter, as in all matters pertaining to the Letters of Power, the Temple must not fear the loss of life—even innocent life—for the alternative is unthinkable. If the Urkuun destroys an innocent boy, then we will mourn our loss, and the world will be safe from all danger. If the Urkuun slays the Seer of Power, then all the lives we have taken will be vindicated.”

  “Are we certain there is a Letter of Power in Tanniin?”

  “Every indication we have suggests Sureï went to Tanniin for that express reason. My suspicion is that the Letter is hidden somewhere deep within the mines. The slave Bahiya spoke of may be thinking he is trying to win his freedom, but I think he is unwittingly attracted to the Letter of Power lurking beneath the mountain. Certainly, there is no reason to doubt the sincerity of his motives, but they matter very little. The Letters will call the Seer to them just as the flowers call the bees.”

  “In this case,” replied Kalibaal, ruefully, “the curse Sureï imposed on every location where a Letter of Power is hidden will take care of the Seer. Has he not directed his curse specifically against the Seer, and are not these curses terrifying? Surely, the Seer cannot escape them.”

  “Unfortunately, Sureï was unable to curse every location. We know of at least one place that he was unable to curse. Why? No one knows exactly. We cannot take this risk. This is why I want the Urkuun in Tanniin. The Seer must be destroyed.”

  There were no more objections Kalibaal could raise. As a priest of the Inner Circle, it was his duty to question the decisions of the high priest, but he could see Sharr’s far-ranging wisdom. He bowed and left with a heavy heart, for the Urkuun was a monster created for the subjugation of mankind. Kalibaal could not help but wonder if the Temple, with all its might and knowledge of the spell world, would be able to subjugate the monster after it had managed to destroy the Seer. The biting cold of the dull stones reminded him how important humility was. We do not know everything, he thought. In fact, we know so very little.

  Tanios rose up. He had finished his inspection of the body and was holding the dart in his hand. The Hall of Dancing was cordoned off and no one was allowed in or out. Hiyam and her team stood nearby.

  “O my soul, seek not a coward’s solace even if he be a trusted friend for he will strike you at an hour you do not expect.”

  “What do you mean, Commander Tanios,” asked Hiyam, drawing near him.

  “Book of Lamentation, chapter 7, verse 5,” replied the commander, a puzzled look on his face.

  “Do you see this dart?” he asked, pointing at the weapon used to kill the man. “It is three-pronged and each of its prongs is slightly curved inward which makes it harder to pull it free from its target.”

  “It takes barbarians to create weapons such as these,” interjected one of Hiyam’s men.

  “Shut your mouth.” Hiyam’s order suffered no reply.

  Tanios ignored the outburst. He seemed deep in thought.

  “You were saying, Commander?”

  “I am saying this dart is old. Very old. In fact, it is so old that none of the Silent under my command have been trained to use them. When thrown, these darts would wobble and seldom hit their mark. We dropped them from our arsenal ten years ago.” Tanios threw the dart straight at the wall. It wobbled and fell clumsily to the ground.

  “Why attack someone with such a coarse weapon when you have far more effective means to do the job? Why not use a needle dart that can deliver a quick poison without leaving a trace? Why risk missing your target by throwing a wobbly dart, unless…” He got up and inspected the room once more, as though he was seeing it for the first time. “Lady Hiyam, look around and tell me, what do you see?”

  Hiyam inspected the hall. A series of comfortable chairs surrounded an elliptical dance floor.

  “I don’t see anything unusual,” said Hiyam pensively. “Aside from these chairs, there is nothing else here.”

  “Precisely, my dear Hiyam, precisely. Nothing else. I take it everything is as it was since the incident?”

  The man who found the body nodded. “We did not touch anything.”

  “An undisturbed hall and a wobbly poisonous dart. What is the implication? Your man let the killer get very close to him without a fight.” He leaned over and examined the body once more. “No signs of injury, no bruises, no signs of struggle.
” He stood up. “Your man was not afraid of his opponent, who stabbed him with this poisoned dart at close range. Can you imagine Ahiram entering this room, trying to convince one of your men to come close to him? I do not think so. Whosoever committed this crime knew the victim very well and was able to draw close to him in confidence. Then, the murderer used this dart, trying to confuse us into thinking Ahiram did it. Clever, but only by half.”

  “But who would do such a thing?” asked Hiyam, anguished. She glanced at her men. “This makes no sense.”

  “A very good question, my dear Hiyam, and I assure you, I will find out who is killing these men. In the meantime, I would suggest that you and your teammates do not open the door to anyone and be on your guard. I will send servants to help with the preparation for the proper burial of this unfortunate young man.”

  “As if you cared,” interjected one of Hiyam’s men. She rushed to him and was about to slap him when Tanios gently stopped her. He looked at the young man who had spoken.

  “Your brother?”

  “My cousin.”

  “I am sorry, and I will find the killer. But if I may say, do not use the dead as an excuse to hate the living, especially those who are innocent of this crime.”

  Tanios opened the door and left. Hiyam watched the young man step out of the Hall of Dancing into the dark hallway. She saw him walk out to the balcony and knew he was crying.

  “It is the shark, I tell you.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Yesterday it was the oysters. The day before…what was it again? Oh yes, the lamb, and tonight, the shark.”

  “Well, it is not my fault if I snore.”

  “Of course not. It is not your fault that you snore. Your snoring is what’s faulty that’s all; it wakes me up.”

  “Well, you should sleep in a different room.”

  “As if this would change anything. Your snoring is so loud; I would be surprised if the King upstairs, or anyone else in the entire castle is able to sleep.”

  Ramany and Hylâz were sitting in the common room, looking at each other dejectedly. Ramany, the fat, short judge, had a gruff look on his face and his hair looked like a bunch of broken straws shaken by a violent wind. Hylâz’s face was wrinkled from lack of sleep and his frown furrowed his forehead, splitting it in two. Whatever hair he had had, he seemed to have lost tonight.

  He passed his hand over his scalp. Ramany followed his gesture attentively.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I am combing my hair.”

  “Your hair? But you barely have any.”

  “If you did not snore, I wouldn’t be losing my hair.”

  “My snoring causes your baldness?” asked Ramany. “This is incredible.”

  “Your snoring would cause crows to go bald,” scoffed Hylâz. “In fact, do you see any crows around here? No, there you go.”

  “Crows? But it’s the middle of the night. You are impossible.”

  Ramany started laughing. Hylâz joined him.

  “So, why did you wake me up?” he asked, remembering now what was bothering him.

  “Well, it is only justice, is it not?”

  “So, if you cannot sleep, I should not sleep either?”

  “I was getting bored sitting here by myself listening to you filling the night with your poetic expressions.”

  “You could have woken up Garu. He is the lead judge after all.”

  “I tried, but neither Garu nor Ibromaliöm are in their rooms.”

  “Ibromaliöm is a night owl, so this is not surprising, but Garu? Usually, he is more disciplined than the Silent.”

  “Well, Garu, Ibromaliöm, and the King wanted to join the Silent Corps when they were young. They enrolled in the Silent’s training program the same year, but the oath scared them enough that they dropped out the day before the oath ceremony.”

  “Garu? A Silent?”

  “Yes, I know. Most of us underestimate this man. Behind his quiet, seemingly bored face, is hidden one of the sharpest minds I have ever known. I tell you, sometimes he scares me.”

  “Ibromaliöm scares me.”

  “Me too, but not in the same way as Garu. Ibromaliöm is not as subtle as Garu is. You can tell that he is trying to impress you. Garu hides it. He does not want to attract any attention to himself.”

  “And what is it that scares you about me, old friend?”

  Ramany and Hylâz almost fell out of their chairs. Garu was standing before them, as if he materialized from nowhere.

  “Garu, this is most unsettling, and if I may add, lacking in taste and gentlemanly manners.”

  “My apology, dear Hylâz, but I could not resist. You are afraid of me? I must say, I am grieved. I thought we were friends.”

  “I do not think it prudent to annoy our good friend, Ramany, with this rather private matter, do you not agree?”

  “You have been annoying him, as you say, for quite some time now with this private matter, so why not pursue it a little further?”

  “I am not annoyed,” said Ramany quickly.

  “And why are you up, Master Ramany?” asked Garu.

  “It is the shark—”

  “Ah yes, indeed. I found it too heavy for my taste.”

  “See?” exclaimed Ramany, looking triumphantly at Hylâz.

  “It must be the garlic,” said Garu, smiling.

  “Yes, the garlic, that’s it.”

  “Well, my dear Hylâz, I am sorry if I have put you on the spot, but the events of this night are rather unnerving, if I may say so.”

  “Events? What events?” asked Ramany.

  “One of Hiyam’s men was found dead.”

  “Dead?” exclaimed Ramany and Hylâz.

  “As dead as can be. He was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” exclaimed the two men in unison once more.

  “Have you ever considered singing together?” asked Garu, smiling.

  “Garu,” snapped Hylâz, “this is not the time for your sarcasm.”

  “You are right. I am sorry, dear friend,” said Garu, sighing. “Something is wrong and I am on edge.”

  “But how did you find out?” asked Ramany.

  “Tanios woke me up. He wanted to question me about my whereabouts. Apparently, I am one of the prime suspects.”

  “You mean to say that Tanios thinks you may have committed the crimes?” Hylâz’s voice was shrill with fear and excitement.

  “He did not say it in so many words, but he told me that he will send some members of the Silent Corps to protect me.”

  “Well, is it not a prudent decision?” asked Ramany.

  “It would be if Tanios allowed the Silent to be at my disposal. Instead, he said that the Silent would protect me. The difference is subtle, but very real: it means he does not trust me, and this, in turn, implies he considers me a suspect.” Garu stood up and went to the door. He put his finger on his lips, asking both men to be still. He opened the door quickly and looked out. “Nobody. These Silent are truly amazing.”

  Ramany and Hylâz joined Garu and looked into the corridor. There was no one to be seen. They went back to their seats, and Garu closed the door.

  “Are you sure someone is guarding these doors?”

  “Well, you have only to ask Tanios. I am sure he will be paying you a visit very soon. He told me he wanted to speak with Ibromaliöm first. In any event, I am going to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day, so I suggest you do the same. Good night, my friends.”

  Garu left. Ramany and Hylâz sat around the table waiting for Tanios to appear at their door. After waiting for a long time, they grew tired and went to bed. Hylâz waited anxiously for Ramany’s powerful snore, but it never came. Ramany’s fear of being murdered kept him awake all night. But he would be quick to lay the guilt of insomnia on the shark steak they had eaten—served with a creamy garlic sauce, salad, and a fresh loaf of bread. His stomach grumbled and he fidgeted in bed wondering what would keep him awake longer: his fright or his bloated stomach.

  “N
o, my dear Tanios, there is no one besides the four of us.”

  “What are we to conclude, Your Majesty?”

  “That Master Ibromaliöm, Master Garu, you and I, are prime suspects in this matter.”

  “But this is absurd.”

  The King walked toward the window. Dawn had begun coloring the clear skies with a deep golden hue.

  “It is going to be another fine summer day in the kingdom, my dear Commander,” said the King. Looking at Ibromaliöm, he added, “The facts are undeniable: whosoever used this dart knew how to use it at close range and was known to the victim. All of us– you to a lesser extent–fit these two conditions rather well, would you not agree?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Commander Tanios, you and I have had our differences. We may not agree on the presence of Baal, the building of the temple, nor the honor I accord to the priestess. Nevertheless, my father—the gods be praised—made an excellent choice when he placed you at the head of the Silent Corps. I have never questioned this; some have suggested that I demote you but I have always refused. I feel secure knowing you are the head of the Silent Corps. You know that the Temple of Baal would be very glad to see the Corps dismantled. I do not want this to happen. The murderer must be found and stopped before it is too late.”

  “What do you suggest, Your Majesty?”

  “Why would anyone want to murder these young men? There is no relationship between them; they belong to different teams and different families. What is the motive for their murders?”

  “I do not know, Your Majesty. Granted, both teams have tried to get rid of Ahiram, but this does not explain why these two young men—and no other members of their teams—have been killed.”

  “True, indeed. So what do they have in common?”

  “They are both men and they have been murdered in the same way.”

  “By a poisoned dart,” said the King. “Hmm… I think it is time we had a conversation with the old man, Habael. Where do you suppose we should find him in a few hours hence?”