“You haven’t answered my question.”
“You should ask her when you see her.”
“When will that be?”
“Soon. We’re moving north. Commander’s orders.”
“I’ll have to change. I couldn’t bear Noraldeen looking at me the way Sheheluth did, or Hoda … I couldn’t look my sister in the eye. I’ve got to change. I can’t stay like this.”
“Do you remember the last mission that Nora, Banimelek, and you and I went on?”
“The diplomatic mission in Togofalk? Don’t remind me. Nora and you were supposed to be a dashing young couple from Ophir. And Banimelek and I, your bodyguards. Only, you fell ill, so I had to play your role and Banimelek ended up as a large dwarfish matron.” They laughed at the memory of the event. “What a disaster that was.”
“Still, the mission was a success. We intercepted the Bar-Tanickian murderers, prevented a war, and saved two Togofalkian elders.”
“That we did, thanks to Nora and the dwarfish matron.”
Jedarc laughed. “Did you stop to think if these two Togofalkian elders were worth saving?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we know nothing of their past, and still, we saved their lives.”
“The point being?”
“We don’t save someone’s life because he is worth saving. We save someone’s life because it is the right thing to do.”
“Yes, and …?”
“A sormoss doesn’t think that way. He thinks only those worth living should live. Which one are you?”
Ahiram sighed. “Jedarc, Hiyam tried to kill me.”
“Yes, and that was wrong of her in more ways than I can think of. Is the person you saved the same person who wanted you dead in the Games of the Mines? Are you the same person who maimed Prince Olothe? Should I freeze you in time and think of you constantly as the sormoss who broke a man just because he was angry?”
In the silence that followed, Ahiram watched a glassy bubble of soap rise and pop. The soapy surface looks the same, but if I look closer, it becomes a sea of constant change.
“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll talk to her.” When Jedarc did not reply, Ahiram knew his friend had already left the cave. He smiled. He knew what I was thinking. He didn’t need to hear me say it. He heaved a sigh of relief, and even though he noticed the bundle of dirty clothes was still there, he closed his eyes and dozed off again.
“The water is cold, you should get up.”
Ahiram opened his eyes and saw Banimelek, sitting cross-legged next to him holding two bowls of porridge. He handed one to him and slowly started to eat from the other.
“Jedarc told me what Sheheluth said to you. Don’t you go all mushy on me. You know I can’t stand it when you’re moping around.”
“I won’t. Don’t worry. But do you think I’m a sormoss?”
“I told you not to go mushy on me. Don’t overcomplicate things. You beat that guy senseless. I say he deserves it. He’s a scum. There’s nothing more to it.”
“What about Hiyam?”
Banimelek shrugged his shoulders. “We both hate slavery, so she goes free. But if she hurts Jedarc, nothing will keep her safe from us. You put the fear of the Silent Corps in her heart, or I’ll do it. Your call.”
Ahiram sighed. Banimelek was the most practical of the three. “I’ll do it. What do you think of Sheheluth?”
“Don’t know yet. I don’t trust her.”
Ahiram nodded.
“Come on now, stop playing the pampered prince. Sondra wants a word with you. She’s waiting outside.”
“Clean clothes?”
“The dwarfs brought you another set. Jedarc hid them by your bed and made me promise not to say anything.”
Ahiram chuckled. “You’re getting antsy, I see.”
“The commander is waiting for us. Then there’s the high priestess. She’s her mom.”
“I thought you hated her.”
“Hate the priestess. Respect the mom.”
“I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Banimelek grunted and left the cave.
While Ahiram had been enjoying his bath, Master Xurgon, back in the dwarfs’ quarters, was fretting over rocks and stones when Brix barged in and interrupted his train of thought.
“Master Xurgon, Master Xurgon,” said the young dwarf, breathless.
“What is it now? Do you not see, young sapling, that Kwadil’s nephews and I are in a most respectably respectable meeting?”
“My deepest sorrowful sorrows and apologizing apologies, Master. Yet, I am under obligatory obligation to disruptively disrupt this meeting, for we have a most important visiting visitor.” Brix moved closer before he whispered, “A delegation from Amsheet headed by Zirka.”
“This is becoming more and more bewildering and bewilderingly intriguing. Usher them in.”
Brix left the room in haste. The three dwarfs paced in thoughtful silence as they thought about the events of the last week. Xurgon had to admit that Zurwott’s description was apt. The scars were ugly; their edge was jagged and uneven much like what happens when the mighty wind breaks a tree in two. The edge was moist and greenish and exuded a quaint and disgusting smell that was never seen or heard of in the long living memory of the dwarfs.
Brix reappeared and walked slowly this time. He stopped and ushered the visitors in before leaving the room. A dwarf with a long, flowing dark beard walked in proudly, followed by twelve soldiers with the herald of Amsheet.
“Master Xurgon,” exclaimed Zirka walking in with open arms.
“My dear Zirka,” replied Xurgon. The two dwarfs disliked each other profoundly, but would rather be caught dead than show it. “What glad tidy tidings bring you and your distinguished companions to these solitary walls?”
“The northerly northern walls of Amsheet, the fortified fortress are sickly sick and sick with a sickly disease,” said Zirka. “Lord Orgond would like your present presence and presence most present in the fortress no later than what is politely possible and possible under most polite circumstantial circumstances.”
Xurgon turned to Orwutt. “Show our honored friend what we have seen. If his gazing gaze witnesses here what his gaze most gazing has witnessed in the north, than we would have to regrettably dispense with the pleasant pleasantries of a dwarfish meal and make hasting haste.”
Zirka bowed and followed Orwutt. Xurgon waited anxiously. If the extent of the northern disease is greater than ours, than the source is closer to Amsheet, otherwise, we may attribute it to the béghôm. Xurgon’s jaw tightened. The Karangalatad speak of such disease as the signal signature of a formidable foe and a foe most formidable. A foe whose name I do not wish to utter. This would be a nightmarish nightmare proportionally proportional to the worst battle the dwarfs have had to fight against the Pit.
Less than an hour later, they were back, and confirmed that the walls of the northern fortress were suffering from the same disease but that it was in a far more advanced stage.
Xurgon inhaled sharply and stood, eyes wide-open, as if he were seeing a ghost. He rubbed his deeply furrowed forehead, and sat heavily on a stool.“It is as I have feared,” he muttered after a while. He heaved a deep sigh and got up. “Our fate lies up north and a dark hour is upon us, the likes of which none of us have seen before. Northbound we are, and may all the gods have mercy on us.”
Three days later, Orwutt and Zurwott dropped by the desert people’s camp for a short visit. They were happy to see Ahiram fully recovered. Orwutt handed him a leather bag. “Your dwarfish clothes.”
Ahiram undid the knot, peered inside, and was relieved when he did not see El-Windiir’s artifacts. “Thank you, Orwutt.”
“No thankful thanksgiving or thanksgiving so thankful are necessary,” intoned Zurwott. “You slew the beastly beast and beast most beastly, and this baggy bag is but a small expressive expression of our delightfully delighted gratifying gratitude.”
Ahiram bowed, and Zurwott ha
nded him a small pouch. The Silent frowned and opened it. It contained a small fortune in silver coins. He whistled. “There is enough silver to keep a man alive for three years.”
Bowing, Zurwott said, “We are pleasingly pleased by your accepting acceptance of our tokenized token of thankful thanksgiving.”
“Will you be going north?” inquired Orwutt in the Common Tongue, to the chagrin of his brother.
“Yes, to report to the commander.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow I believe. Do you mind if we go through your quarters first? It’s a shortcut to the castle and I would very much like to replace my belt and change back into Silent’s clothing.”
“With pleasing pleasure,” replied Zurwott.
“Zurwott and I could be your guides through the mines. We’re supposed to go with Master Xurgon to Amsheet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we went with you.”
“Great. My friends and I will be looking forward to your company.”
The twin brothers bowed and went in search of Xendorac to get their lucrative agreement with the desert people under way.
Ahiram finally stepped outside of his cave. This was the twelfth day since his fight with the béghôm. Rain had washed the plain anew and the fresh after-storm scent caught him as he stepped into the green grass. He opened his arms, closed his eyes, and welcomed the cold breeze. He watched an intensely blue sky patched with thick white clouds follow their dreamy peregrination. Ahiram wished he could fly with them to another land where he had danced with his sister.
“Beautiful aren’t they?”
“Sondra.”
She seized him by the shoulders and shook him. “Alendiir, you idiot, we thought you were dead during the last game. Why didn’t you come back to the castle?”
True to herself, Sondra did not display her emotions in a large group. Now that she was alone with Ahiram, she let him have it.
“I didn’t know where I was, but when I met the dwarfs, they told me there was a slave who was going to be sacrificed for a béghôm, so I—”
“So, you thought it was your duty to save him?”
“Hey, don’t yell. Wouldn’t you have done the same?”
She let go of him.
“Slaves live and die every day, Alendiir. You can’t save them all.”
“Sondra …”
She poked his chest with her finger. “You and you’re big heart. Tell me, where did you get that sword? Is it yours?”
Ahiram squirmed. “I’d rather not talk about this now.”
“Why? What did Sheheluth tell you?”
“You know?”
“Know what? Something is obviously eating at her.”
Ahiram sighed. “She told me I’m a sormoss.”
“What’s that?”
“She said it is someone who beats people when he’s angry.”
“The gall of that girl. How dare she?”
“Don’t get upset. I let her talk to me because—”
“Because you’re too naïve to know what’s good for you, that’s why.”
“But I think she’s right. I was going to slap Hiyam when I saw her. I was so angry, but at that moment, she was weak and defenseless.”
Sondra scoffed. “I’d have wrung her neck. Nora would have killed her without a moment’s hesitation.”
“I don’t know, Sondra. It’s not about her. It’s about me. Sheheluth asked me if I think like a Silent or like a slave.”
“And?”
“I’m a Silent and I am … was … still am … I don’t know. That’s the thing, Sondra. I think Sheheluth is right in one respect. I want my actions to be my own. You, you act when you decide to act … I …”
She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Alendiir, some will say you ask too many questions. The way I see it, you’re searching for something but can’t quiet put your finger on it just yet. That’s fine, but you’ll have to promise me something.”
Ahiram froze. He looked at her wide-eyed. “What is it?”
“Don’t do it alone. You’re not alone. You’re one of us and we’ll always be there for you. No matter what, we will be by your side.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? What kind of a stupid question is that?”
“No. I mean what do you see in me?”
She shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder what’s in that head of yours. What do I see in you? You move like the wind, you’re like a vengeful wave; you’re harder than stone and live with an inner fire that calls to the sun. You’re beautiful to watch when you move, that’s why.”
“You’ve seen all this?”
“Yeah, and one more thing …”
“Yes?”
“You’re a first rate idiot. Now go back inside before you catch a cold.”
“I’m fine.”
“Clearly, your head is not. Get back in there and rest. We’re leaving tomorrow, with or without your head.”
Ahiram walked back toward the cave. Along the way, he greeted the desert people and wished he could stay with them a little longer. Somehow, their village had a familiar feeling; a feeling he had not had since he left Baher-Ghafé. They must be bringing in the boats for the night now. Hoda must be hard at work preparing the meat and … A lump formed in his throat and his vision blurred. He repressed his feelings and shut these images away. I’m getting closer. Every step I take brings me closer to freedom, and to Baher-Ghafé.
He reached his cave and inhaled sharply. Hiyam was waiting for him. She was in her High Riders’ uniform but stood with her eyes cast down. Pity washed over his heart, taking him by surprise.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded without looking up. “I would like to know what … what you wish me to do for you …”
He sighed and suddenly felt tired.
“Let’s walk,” he said. She followed a few feet behind him. His throat constricted. The thought of an assured young woman acting like a slave was too much to bear. He could see himself in her. He pointed to the trees at the edge of the forest. “Let’s go and talk over there.”
She nodded.
Oddly, Ahiram felt better as soon as he touched the trunk of a tall oak, as if he were reuniting with an old friend.
“I’ve always loved trees,” he said with a smile. “I think I prefer them over caves and stones. I have happy memories of my oak tree in the winter and its cool shade in the summer. That oak was part of the village. It was there with me as I grew up. It was always patient and never complained, and … clearly, I have no idea what I’m talking about. Listen, Hiyam—”
“I would like to offer you my apologies,” she said as she sat down. “I grew up as the daughter of a high priestess. From the time I could walk, everyone bowed before me. No one would sit and eat until I sat, and everyone stopped eating when I stopped. I could ask a High Rider to kill himself for me and he would have obeyed. I didn’t feel powerful. It all felt normal, like it should be that way. I gave orders and people obeyed. One day, I too, would become a high priestess and people would fear me. Power was not something I desired. It was something I owned.”
Ahiram shook his head. “This sounds so far-fetched. I can’t conceive of people living this way.”
“Think about how I treated you during the Games. I used magic to ensnare you. I toyed with you and ordered my men to kill you.”
“So what’s changed?”
She sighed. “I’ve lived on the bright side of power. I did not see its dark side until you won the games. The planning, the killing, the secret assassinations … I did not realize what power truly meant until then. A few days later, I began to despise the Temple. Then, the Game of Gold happened. We were climbing up to the Pit of Thunder, when a powerful attacker assaulted us. He toyed with me, mocked me, jeered at me, and showed me what he was going to do to me …” Hiyam drew her legs against her chest and gripped them with her arms.
“Hoda—”
“Hiyam,” the young woman corrected him.
Ahiram bit his lip. Why am I calling her by my sister’s name? What’s wrong with me? He controlled himself. “Do you know who attacked you?”
She looked at him and he saw a deep-seated fear. “He didn’t say his name, but his power is beyond anything I’ve seen. He was so cruel. Despite my shame, I pleaded with him to stop. He laughed and told me that he wasn’t doing anything to me that I hadn’t done to you …” Furtively, she looked at him. “He made me feel like … a slave.”
Ahiram looked away.
“The Games had to go on. The Temple had to win. I pleaded with my mother to let you live, to save your life. I tried to stop the High Riders, but it was all too late. The humiliation I felt, the sense of loneliness, the desperation, the …” She heaved a deep sigh. “This may be hard to believe, and I would not have believed it myself a short month ago, but, I will never be a high priestess. I won’t go back to the Temple.”
“So what will you do now?”
She glanced at him. “Well, now I truly am a slave … please let me finish. I won’t have the courage to say this again. It is one thing to think about being a slave and it is another thing to be one. It’s the little things that get you, like can I drink? can I eat? What should I do next? It is debilitating. I don’t know how you survived all these years, but the High Riders’ code of honor is unbending. The desert people captured me and treated me as their slave. They were going to offer me as a sacrifice to the béghôm. You saved me Ahiram. You saved all of us. So now I am your slave.” With a great effort of will, she rose and bowed to Ahiram. “Command me Master, I am here to do your command.”
Ahiram nearly exploded, but seeing Sheheluth watching them from afar, he controlled himself. He knew he had to find a way out of this. He breathed long and deep until his irritation subsided, then he reviewed what the young woman had told him, and smiled.
“So, before being captured by the desert people, you had already made up your mind, didn’t you? About not becoming a high priestess?”
She nodded. “No matter what, I will not be a priestess of Baal.”
Halfway there, thought Ahiram. “What would you have done then?”
Wrath of the Urkuun (Epic of Ahiram Book 2) Page 17