He gave a start and stared at his sister, uncomprehending. “Why do you say that? Why would she hate me?”
“Because if you would have treated her the way you’re treating my daughter,” Hoda replied, “you would have forced her to live in a form of prison by being so worried that something might happen to her.”
“I … no, I …”
“You know I’m right, Ahiram. You can’t bear the thought of losing me or my Nora. You said it yourself.”
“I see your point,” he conceded after a while. “I would have turned into a tyrant because I wouldn’t want her to be hurt.”
“I don’t mind the attention,” she hastened to add, “and I’m certain this Nora loves it. But that’s because we’re here in camp, and I’m overjoyed to have you again by my side. I too want to protect you. I also want to hold you near me all the time to make sure nothing happens to you. I know the feeling. But it’s not how we live, Ahiram. It’s not the way of shark fishermen. Father would agree with me. You don’t hold back from fishing a shark because it’s dangerous. You do it because that’s who you are and what you know best.”
“That’s the thing, Hoda. I’m too dangerous to have around, and everyone I love is not equipped to fight the sharks I’m fighting. So what am I supposed to do? What should I do, Hoda? Leave everyone behind? Live alone? You tell me now.”
“You conquer, Ahiram. That’s what you do. That’s who you are. Your burning rage, your power, all of it is meant for conquest. Then there will be nothing to fear anymore. I’m worried about our parents. They should have been back by now. I want you to go look for them.”
“In the Land of the Marada?”
She nodded. “I wanted to go look for them myself, but Karadon doesn’t want us to leave camp, not with the children and all.”
He looked into the distance and she could picture his inner struggle. He crouched, patted the baby’s back, and chuckled. “It was so peaceful while it lasted.” He sighed then added, “You’re right, Hoda. I can’t be by little Nora all the time. I have delayed long enough meeting our mother and father. Fine, I’ll go, but on one condition.”
“Tell me.”
“You go with Karadon and the children to Tanniin and wait there.”
“But we’re safe here, Ahiram. I’ve already left one home and I’m not ready to be uprooted again.”
“You’re not safe, Hoda. No one who knows me is safe. In Tanniin, I have friends, and you will be treated with honor and respect on my account. You will be able to do more good over there than you could ever dream to do here, and it’ll give me a measure of relief.”
She looked at him and smiled. “Let me discuss it with Karadon first.”
He sat down next to little Nora, picked her up gently, and laid her in his lap. “Fine,” he said, grinning, “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Actually,” said Ashod pensively, “that’s a great suggestion.”
“What do you mean?” Karadon asked. “Us going to Tanniin? What for? We’re Black Robes, we save people and we’re not going to stop now, are we?” Not getting any response, Karadon insisted: “Are we, Ashod?”
“That’s a great question,” the former priest of Baal said, “a question I’ve been asking myself over the past few weeks. Formerly, Baal destroyed villages on the off chance that the Seer lived there. The Temple knows the Seer now and they can track his every move, so they will not destroy a village unless it helps them capture him.”
“Well, there could still be threats. They could destroy a village because someone dabbled in magic or because someone is trying to write.”
“Doubtful,” Ashod said. “The Temple banned magic because they were afraid the Seer would use it. They banned scribbling to prevent the Seer from using the Letters of Power. But that was before they knew who he was. Now that they do, things will change.”
“So you really think there won’t be raids like before?” Hoda said.
“No more raids for the specific purpose of destroying a village in the hope of wiping out a newborn Seer. Sharr will try to convince your brother to join the priesthood. If this fails, Tanniin will feel the brunt of the Temple’s wrath.”
“What do we do, then?” Karadon asked.
“Your brother’s offer is a good one, Hoda,” Sheheluth said. “You’re a person of interest to the Temple. If they catch you, there’s no telling what your brother will do.”
“But the camp? Ashod, what will happen to everyone here?” Hoda asked. “Everyone in this camp is like family to us. We can’t abandon them. I don’t want to leave them behind.”
“Then take them with you,” Sheheluth offered.
“What?” Karadon shot, “You’re not serious. Take everyone? But what about the other camps?”
“The only other camp I’m worried about is the one in Kesrwan,” Ashod said. “All the other camps are outside Nebo’s military jurisdiction and I don’t think he will, at this point, care much about them. So, they might continue to exist for now. We shall see.”
“But what will we do in Tanniin?” Karadon protested.
“I’m certain Lord Orgond would be happy to use skilled laborers who are deeply motivated to help defeat Baal in the war to come.”
“We’re not warriors, Ashod,” Hoda pointed out.
“And you won’t have to fight, either. There’s much you can help with, whether it’s construction, raising defensive walls, or helping organize the population. It would be the same sort of work we do in the camp, minus, perhaps the rescue operations. You could be very useful in Tanniin, and,” he added over their objections, “let’s not ignore the moral lift they would get from having the Seer’s own sister in their midst.”
Karadon and Hoda looked at each other. “I must be dreaming,” Karadon said. “Tell me I’m dreaming.”
The door flung open and a man came running in, carrying a bow and a fletch of arrows. “High Riders on approach,” he said. “The camp is under attack!”
“How many?” Ashod asked, rising quickly. “And how far?”
“Three light cavalry guards, and one of arrow fielders.”
“Close to nine hundred riders and three hundred bows. How far?”
“They’ve set up camp at the edge of the foothills, three hours away. About five hundred riders and half of their archers are closing in.”
“We empty the camp and take everyone into the swamps,” Hoda said.
“I’ll help you,” Sheheluth said.
Hoda, Karadon, and Sheheluth filed out. They hastened to the main cluster of buildings where everyone had already congregated. Hoda ascended a platform and immediately took control of the situation. Ordinarily, her mother Hayat would be in command, but since she was not present, Hoda would play the role. “You know the drill,” she said calmly. “This camp is not an unprepared village. We’re ready for this. The swamps are our refuge. We know them better than the High Riders do. We will retreat to the hiding places in the marsh and wait for the soldiers to leave. Once they find no one, they will no doubt burn the camp and leave. Every cabin can be rebuilt. Take your most precious possessions and move. The rear-guard will destroy the rest and muddy the path to erase our footprints. Move.”
Ashod came out of his cabin and watched as the camp quickly emptied. He knew this was the best way to avoid bloodshed. No direct confrontation, but a flight that turned the Black Robes into a fleeting wind. He also knew it would take the High Riders a couple of hours before reaching the camp, for the way was winding and fraught with danger for the horses, as the swamps surrounding the camp were full of potholes. Ashod wanted to be the last to leave.
Hoda, Karadon, and twenty other Black Robes returned after bringing everyone to safety and joined Ashod. The troops of Baal were starting the invasion.
“Everyone is safe?” he asked. Karadon nodded. “Good. Who’s taking care of little Nora?” he asked.
“A young mother from Wrok-Atul,” Hoda replied.
“Odd, I thought it would be your
brother.”
Hoda opened wide her eyes. “Ahiram, where is he?”
“Ashod, look,” one of the Black Robes members said, “fire.”
“What? Fire in the swamps?”
Creeping toward the edge of the camp, they could see archers of Baal invading the camp and firing a hail of arrows in their direction, but midway through their flight, the arrows were suddenly were incinerated.
“Reload and release,” the captain yelled, but a searing fire consumed their arrows and scorched the ground beneath their feet. The stagnant water in the nearby swamp boiled and steamed. Unhinged and confused, the archers lost their customary cohesion. An approaching small group of High Riders suddenly spotted Ashod and his companions. “There, Black Robes! Charge, charge and kill them all.”
The riders charged in unison, galloping at full speed despite the uncertain terrain.
“Quick, to our hiding place,” ordered Karadon.
His escorts split into two groups and all ran quickly toward the swamps. Karadon, not seeing Hoda, stopped, and retraced his steps.
“Hoda,” he called out, seeing her still crouching in the same spot, “what are you doing? We need to run!”
“Wait,” she said, “Look.”
The High Rider’s charge suddenly broke. A wave of fire burned the vegetation at the feet of the horses, and the steeds panicked and collided into one another. Riders tumbled to the ground in a chaotic melee, but the experienced captain quickly reformed his troop and was about to order another charge when fire stuck neighboring trees, turning them into giant candles.
“What is going on?” Karadon asked. “Is Ashod doing that?”
“I’m right here,” the former priest of Baal replied. “That’s your brother-in-law. He’s using the weapons of El-Windiir.”
“He’s breaking the forces of Baal methodically,” Hoda observed.
“He can shoot fire?” Karadon said. “Wow.”
The burning trees exploded and embers flew. Smoke billowed from the moist wood and by now, the five hundred riders were in full disarray. Still, the soldiers of Baal were trained to constantly seek new offensive tactics, no matter the casualties. Close to a hundred riders rallied to their leader’s call and they charged the camp on foot.
Something like a mini-tornado flew by. They gazed at a dragon-looking creature that went along a wide circle and dove with frightening speed. It hurtled toward the riders, meeting them head-on. The riders released their bows but the cloud of deadly arrows was immediately consumed by a burst of fire. The creature leapt and accelerated, and in a blink of an eye, came down on the charging soldiers. Flames burst forth and the horses panicked. Pandemonium replaced the tight charge, and the horses dispersed while the High Riders littered the ground. The captain bounded back to his feet and was instantly joined by soldiers.
“Fight me like a man,” the tall, burly soldier yelled. He took his helmet off, threw it to the ground, and with a powerful thrust, planted his sword next to him. “Coward slave,” he yelled, “come fight me like a man, and I’ll teach you the power of Baal!”
“Oh, please Ahiram,” Hoda whispered, “please don’t do it.”
The flying creature that looked like a dragon landed twenty feet from the soldier. Slowly, Ahiram removed the mask, the wings, the belt, and the shoes of bronze, and the image of the dragon vanished. In its stead, the soldiers saw a young warrior. An eerie silence followed.
Ahiram faced the soldier and pointed an accusing finger. “You have the gall to talk about courage! You call me a slave, when you have no qualm attacking a camp filled with women and children. You are a coward, son of a coward, and filthy trash I would gladly dispose of.”
The soldier, who was a few inches taller than Ahiram, took a fighting stance, his large fists in front of him. “Small dogs bark the loudest,” he said. “Come here and I’ll show you who’s the coward. I’ll make you beg for mercy, you swine.”
The ten soldiers formed a circle. Hoda stood up. “Ahiram, don’t do it,” she shouted. Boldly, she strode forward and stood by his side. “It’s a trap,” she said. “They’ll gang-up on you. Their word means nothing.”
Karadon stood by them a second later. “What’s family if it’s not worth dying for,” he mumbled.
“Oh-ho, so the filthy slave takes counsel from a pretty woman.”
“Don’t,” Ahiram threatened.
Hoda held her breath. She was not sure, but it almost looked as if fire crackled in his eyes. In that brief moment, Ahiram’s wrath roared like a mighty beast. A thirst, unquenchable and imperious, urged him to destroy the soldiers, their horses, and the entire army of Baal. A desire to turn every temple into rubble and send their priest and worshipers into oblivion took hold of him, and just as he was about to give into it and kill the soldier facing him with one blow, the bruised and bloodied face of Noraldeen bubbled on the roiling surface and broke the mighty wave of anger. He inhaled sharply and stood facing his enemy like a man riding a crashing wave. “But Hoda, I want them to gang up on me,” he said with an eerie grin. “Now stand back and watch the work of a Solitary.”
He waited for his sister and her husband to be at a safe distance then walked inside the circle of the High Riders.
The leader threw a fast punch that would have landed if Ahiram were an ordinary fighter. Instead, the High Rider felt his chest explode and knew right away that he had cracked ribs. The man closest to the leader tried lifting his foot to strike when his knee shattered. Another attacker grabbed Ahiram into a choke hold but ended with both shoulders dislocated. Hoda and Karadon watched with sick fascination as ribs, knees, elbows, and limbs broke under the systematic onslaught. Ahiram moved with the same unnatural speed Hoda witnessed when he was a child. Had he moved with a more normal speed, he would have been overcome by the trained fighters of Baal. Hoda could see that her brother’s anger was contained; like a disciplined warrior, he channeled his energy to its appointed end. The fight lasted a few minutes only. Ahiram trudged toward the leader who despite the pain, was trying to get back up on his feet, a dagger in hand. The Silent grabbed him unceremoniously and lifted him off his feet. The man moaned in pain.
“Who ordered this?” Ahiram asked.
The leader spat in Ahiram’s face, then screamed in agony when Ahiram broke three of his fingers. “I’ve not maimed you for life yet. You can heal and walk. I’m going to ask again, and if you don’t tell me—”
The leader gazed at his opponent and remembered what this warrior had done to Prince Olothe. “Nebo. It was General Nebo.”
“As I thought,” Ahiram said. “You’ll tell this fox that if he doesn’t recant, I’ll do to him what I did to his brother.” Ahiram’s tone reminded the soldier of a lion’s growl. “Understood?”
The man nodded. “If you value your men’s lives, you’ll retreat. If I see you coming after us, I won’t be as gentle, do you understand me?” The soldier nodded again. Ahiram dropped him.
The soldier laughed with contempt. “You think you’ve won? You’ve lit the Spell World with your magic. Every Kerta priest will be hunting you. Do you hear me? You’ll never escape the Temple. Never.”
Ahiram ignored the soldier and returned to his sister and brother-in-law. “We’re done here.” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Where to?” Karadon asked.
“To Tanniin, where else?”
A few hours later, they rejoined the rest of the camp in their secret hiding place inside the swamps and were surprised to see a host of High Riders’ horses in the hands of their friends.
“Where did these horses come from?” Hoda asked, alarmed. “What happened here?”
“They tricked us,” a woman said. “We thought the rest of the soldiers waited in reserve but somehow they knew where to find us. They were here. They surrounded this area.”
Hoda and Karadon stood still. “Anyone hurt?” she asked.
“You mean besides the soldiers? No, everyone is fine.”
“Look, Mama,” Pyram said,
walking toward her holding a horse’s reign, “isn’t he beautiful?”
“How did you manage to route them?” Karadon asked.
“We didn’t,” the woman said, “she did.” She pointed at Sheheluth sitting on a boulder. “Don’t ask me how she did it, but when the soldiers showed up, she stood on that boulder and looked at them and then suddenly, all High Riders went mad. They started screaming, and then they abandoned their horses and ran away. Don’t ask me what happened, but I wouldn’t mess with her, if I were you.”
Ahiram quickly glanced at Ashod. The man’s face betrayed no emotions. He knows, he thought. Ashod knows she can do this. So then, these two must know each other. He added this newly found connection to the shadowy group of those who were neither his enemies nor his friends. Shadow came and stood next to him. The dog was carrying a High Rider’s boot in his snout.
Hoda came and stood by her brother. She was cradling little Nora, who was fast asleep. “If we’re going to go to Tanniin, we need to take everyone with us.”
“I figured as much,” he replied.
“How do you propose we do this?” Karadon asked. “We can’t go south to Gihan; the High Riders will most likely be waiting for us. All of the southern ports of Teshub are heavily guarded by soldiers of Baal, and we can’t possibly think about crossing the length of Teshub to its western coast. Besides, we’re too numerous. We won’t be able to find a single boat to take us, and even if we did, it would cost a fortune.”
Ahiram grinned. “I have a plan. Let me talk to Ashod first, but I think you’re going to like this.”
“Why do I have a feeling that I’m not going to like this?” Karadon muttered. Little Nora woke-up, yawned, saw the face of her mother, and giggled. Karadon’s face lit up almost instantly.
“I often wonder if war is the result of gods too impatient to bear our nature, or men too impatient to join the ranks of gods? Whatever the case, war is a perennial scar, a wound of the human heart that labors, enslaved under the ironclad desire for violence. Is it that Haddad had given rise to this desire in our hearts that we may glorify him, or have we enthroned the god of wrath in our hearts to still our conscience and blindfold the eyes of our souls to the greed that consumes us?”
The Wretched Race (Epic of Ahiram Book 3) Page 48