“This camp is getting bigger by the month,” grumbled Gilna. “A bit more and it’ll turn into Tirkalanzibar.”
Drobna had a dry chuckle. “Obviously, you’ve never been to the largest caravan city in the known world. This camp is child’s play compared to Tirkalanzibar.”
To trade inside Gordion was a dream come true to most caravaners, but not to Kwadil. His exotic merchandise already allowed him to trade with the established businesses of Gordion without incurring the exorbitant tax the city levied.
“Between taxes and the plague,” he would say in the common tongue, “A wise dwarf chooses the plague. It is short lived and therefore far less demanding than taxes.”
Drobna left his expensive merchant’s coat on the barge and crossed the twenty-two docks unnoticed., He followed a dirt road that smelled of horse manure and swine until he reached the gates of Kwadil’s camp. More like a small city than a camp, he thought. There are a thousand tents in there. The gates and the barricades around the large encampment were portable, made to travel with the caravan wherever it went. The dwarfs charge the cost of transportation and maintenance of this enclosure to the caravaners. Now that’s being savvy and shrewd in business.
“I have business with a rich merchant from Rastoopa who is seeking access to Gordion.” He said this impatiently, the way inspectors from Gordion would.
An old dwarf manning the gate smiled obsequiously and spoke softly to a young dwarf child who nodded.
“This way please, sir,” the dwarf said in the common tongue. “The lad will take you to them.”
As he crossed the camp, amazement seized Corintus’ servant. Unlike Gordion’s market, which sold familiar products, Kwadil’s camp featured items he had never seen before: tempting spices, alluring jewels, and bizarre clothing. There were even brightly colored birds that uttered oracles, curious steel containers with twisted winding tubes, and smoking pipes—some as tall as a man. On and on the shops went with a bewildering assortment of colors, smells, and sounds. No wonder they call it the caravan from beyond, Drobna thought. He gasped when he saw a mummified giant, fourteen feet tall, and the stuffed head of a monstrous shark with three rows of razor-sharp teeth. I could spend days here and never be bored.
Eventually, the dwarf child took him away from the busy market to a quieter area and brought him before a clean, well-kept tent. He asked the child to wait for him across the street then struck a small bell with a wooden hammer. A young woman came to meet him. She was, in his own terms, dangerously beautiful, reminding him of the Empyrean race. Her long and curly black hair, dark eyes, and somewhat shorter stature, told him she hailed from the shores of the Great Sea.
“How can I ah help-ah?” she asked in the Rastoopian accent.
“Master Corintus needs to see you right away,” he said. “It’s urgent.”
A man walked out of the tent and eyed him suspiciously. “Pardon-ah me my friend-ah, but-ah, we do not know-ah any Corintus-ah. We are-ah waiting for our-ah permit-ah, which ah—”
“Which will be ready in five days, I am well aware of that,” Drobna interrupted. “Please, I am sent by Corintus himself. He bids you to come with me and bring what you have with you to him.”
“Corintus-ah? Who is Corintus-ah?” asked the woman. “I have-ah never-ah heard of him-ah before-ah.”
“Please, the master’s daughter is very ill, and you have what she needs,” replied Drobna. He then remembered what Corintus had told him. “Oh yes. My master said if you do not believe me then I should tell you about his breakfast. He enjoys alligator meat on a bed of salad and a cold mug of goat’s milk, but …” Drobna struggled to remember the rest. It was such a weird message that he had difficulty recalling it precisely. “Let me see: ‘That this is the wrong season for alligators and that my master is sighing three times.’ Does this mean anything to you?”
Karadon and Hoda’s eyes met. “Fine,” replied Karadon, dropping the Rastoopian accent. “We will follow you, but at a distance. You will walk ahead of us and will remain in plain sight at all times.”
Drobna had thanked them profusely and asked the dwarf child to bring him back to the gate. He glanced back a few times. He could not locate the young couple until he was outside the camp, then he noticed them walking behind him. They joined him on his barge, and two hours later, they stepped inside the palace’s garden.
Presently, Drobna brought them to the second floor where they stood before Aquilina’s door. Drobna knocked and stepped aside. The door opened and they came face-to-face with Amaréya.
“Evening of goodness,” said Hoda bowing.
“Evening of roses,” replied Corintus who joined his wife by the door. Amaréya watched the curious exchange, pondering its deeper meaning.
“Evening of peace,” answered Hoda.
“Evening of friendship,” said Corintus.
“May El bless you.”
“May El keep you.”
“May he grant you long life.”
“May he gift you with children.”
“May he grant you to see your grandchildren,” said Hoda.
“May he grant you to kiss your children’s children,” replied Corintus.
Hoda gazed at Karadon and nodded. Her husband breathed a sigh of relief. This was indeed their contact. The tall blond man had given Hoda the proper greeting and in the right order. This was a peculiar practice of Ashod’s, who loved to use the Finikian greetings as an introductory signal between parties. Finikians had over fifty such greetings, which they used in a sort of friendly competition, heaping salutations and praises on one another until one party drew a blank or gave up. These greetings could be said in any order. But by selecting ten such greetings in a specific order, two parties could confirm they were addressing the right person, whereas a casual passerby would only hear a friendly greeting.
“How did you know where to find us?” asked Karadon.
“When you inquired at the gate, I followed you,” replied Corintus, “but first, let me introduce you to my wife, Her Highness Princess Layaléa Amaréya, heiress to the crown of Gordion.”
“Please call me Princess Amaréya. Layaléa is my official name.
So shocked were the two Black Robes, they forgot to bow.
“The princess?” whispered Hoda.
“Your Highness,” said Karadon, bowing deeply. “We are so very sorry for speaking in your presence the way we did. We did not know.”
They removed their cowls.
Amaréya smiled. “You have not done anything to be sorry for. Have you brought the package?”
“A package?” interjected Aquilina, who had been following the exchange with great interest. She perked up. “Is it a present?”
“Aquilina,” snapped her father, “stay in bed.”
Too late.
The young girl had already jumped out of bed. Resolutely, she walked toward the two strangers, and ignoring Karadon, she went straight to Hoda and looked at her with great intent. Hoda smiled.
“Hello,” she said, “I am Hoda.”
“What a funny name,” said the young girl in a giggle.
“Aquilina, apologize,” said her mother. Her voice suffered no protest.
“I am sorry,” said Aquilina with a curtsy. “I found your name funny because it is so close to another name I heard Snoring Man say.”
“Who is Snoring Man?” asked Corintus suspiciously. Is she calling me Snoring Man, now?
“A friend. Sometimes when he sleeps, he speaks a name like yours. That’s what’s so funny.”
Corintus rolled his eyes. They must be thinking we’re terrible parents to allow our child to associate with some random snoring man.
“What name is that?” asked Hoda. Instinctively, she liked this young girl with a commanding spirit and bright mind. With her long, straight blond hair and brown eyes blazing with the light of spring, she had a natural beauty, simple yet enduring. Even though she wanted Karadon to give Corintus the little package so they would be on their way, s
he had to admit that she enjoyed this little exchange.
“Doda,” replied Aquilina giggling, “isn’t it funny?”
Hoda staggered back as if someone had struck her with a dagger. Karadon steadied her. She glanced at him and his stern gaze told her to control herself. Breathe, Hoda, breathe.
“Aquilina, mind your language,” Amaréya reminded her.
“I’m sorry,” said Aquilina with an altered voice. She glanced at her parents. “Did I say something wrong?” She could tell Hoda was reacting as if she had seen a ghost.
“No, you did not, but it is best if you go back to bed now,” said Corintus smiling. Amaréya knew the name had distressed and saddened the young woman, but she did not perceive any threat to her daughter.
“Dinner for the little princess,” said Martha as she walked in with a silver covered plate. “A dish of praniti, just the way you like it.”
Forgetting what had just happened, Aquilina clapped effusively, somersaulted back to bed, and then jumped until she was out of breath. Her father caught her mid-air. Surprised, she stared at him, mouth open, and he pinched her nose.
“Not fair,” she exclaimed, “put me down and see if you can catch me again. This time I’ll pinch your nose.”
“Aquilina,” called her mother, “your language, please.”
Immediately, the young girl quieted down.
“I am sooo hungry.” she said. She glanced at Hoda, smiled, and was relieved to see her smile back.
Just then, they heard a gentle knock on the door.
“It’s Vily,” exclaimed Aquilina, “Come in,” she shouted loudly.
“Please forgive our daughter’s lack of manners,” said Amaréya.
“Not at all,” replied Karadon. “She’s lively.”
The freckle-faced young girl came in running, then, seeing the group of adults in the room, stopped in her tracks and gave a deep bow.
“I am so sorry,” she said, glancing at Amaréya. “You have guests …”
“Come over here, Vily,” said Aquilina. “Come on, I’m hungry … I mean, I am hungry. You can eat with me.”
“Great idea,” said Corintus, “Why don’t we let the two girls eat together, and we can continue this conversation in our apartment? I am certain you have much to tell us about Grandfather.”
Is he calling Ashod Grandfather? wondered Karadon. He was about to walk out when Hoda went over to Aquilina and knelt by her bed.
“Are you certain you heard ‘Doda’?”
Aquilina looked at her and nodded. “Yes, he said it often in his sleep.”
“Do you know his name?”
Aquilina shook her head.
“Why do you call him Snoring Man?”
Aquilina shrugged her shoulders. “He doesn’t want to talk to me when I speak to him, so I called him Snoring Man to teach him a lesson.”
“Does he snore?”
“I don’t know.”
Hoda wanted to ask her more questions but knew this was not the time. She smiled a sad, gentle smile and moved a lock of hair from Aquilina’s forehead tucking it behind the young girl’s ear. She whispered a quick, “Thank you,” then stood up and followed her husband.
“Vily, Aquilina,” Corintus said as he was about to close the door, “I want you to eat and to wait for us here.”
“Yes, Father,” replied Aquilina. “We won’t go anywhere. I promise.” He gazed at her and she smiled. She loved his deep blue eyes when he smiled at her so. “I promise,” she repeated.
He nodded, left the room, and closed the door softly behind him.
When Corintus reached his quarters, he found Amaréya, Karadon, and Hoda standing around a table with a small wooden box in the center. A comfortable fire burned gently in a large chimney behind them, warming the cold, humid wind that blew from the north. The box must have been five inches wide and long, and two inches high. Its cover had a slight curvature that gave the box the appearance of a miniature hope chest. Corintus could tell it was made of cheap pine, and overall, the workmanship was simple.
“Is this it?” he asked.
Hoda nodded.
“The box has a keyhole, but it looks flimsy. A thief could smash this box with a hammer or rock.”
“Or with a swift blade,” said his wife.
Hoda smiled. “Please try,” she offered.
The half-Empyrean did not need a second invitation. She went into their bedroom and came back with a long, curved sword in a leather sheath hemmed with silver etchings.
“Beautiful,” exclaimed Karadon. “That is one beautiful blade.”
Amaréya smiled broadly and handed him the sword. Karadon knew enough about Empyrean culture to understand the meaning of this gesture. Deeply moved, he bowed and received the sword with both hands. He let his fingers run on the handle.
“Amazing,” he said. “This blade can be held with one or both hands.” He pulled it from its sheath and held it at arm’s length. “Beautifully balanced.” He twitched his wrist and the blade fluttered. “As if made of liquid steel. I am a great admirer of Empyrean blades. Thank you, Your Highness, for allowing me to examine your sword.” He carefully returned it to its sheath, bowed, and presented the sword with both hands.
“Here is a man who knows how to properly hand a sword to an Empyrean,” said Amaréya, glancing quickly at her husband. Corintus rolled his eyes. He preferred darts. Amaréya unsheathed the sword, held it with both hands, and in the blink of an eye, brought it down on the box. The blade bounced back as if it had hit diamond.
The box did not move. “I see,” said the King’s daughter as she inspected her blade. It was not chipped, but she knew she hit a barrier she could not cut through. “This box is deceiving.”
“It cannot be broken by normal means,” said Hoda picking it up, “Nor can it be burned,” she added as she threw the box into the fire. “Water will not affect it either, and no hammer can shatter it.” She smiled mischievously and added, “Karadon and I call it Ashod-in-a-box.”
“Why?” asked Corintus.
“Because it is as stubborn as he is, that’s why,” replied Karadon who retrieved the box from the fire with gold tongs. He dropped it gently back on the table.
“So the Black Robes use magic?”
“When necessary,” replied Hoda, “After all, we have nothing to lose. The Temple is our sworn enemy, so why not make use of the Temple’s weapons to protect ourselves?”
“I see. All right then, where is the key to open this box?”
Karadon and Hoda gave Corintus a confused look. “Ashod did not give us the key. That would have been foolish. All along we assumed you had the key.”
It was Corintus’ turn to be confused. “Me? How would I have the key? I did not even know you were bringing me this box.”
Hoda sighed. “Figures,” she said, “this has Ashod all over it. All right then, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us what happened. We may be able to figure out where the key is and what’s in this box.”
“So you are ignorant of the box’s content?” asked the heiress.
Karadon nodded. “We cannot reveal what we do not know.” Amaréya and Corintus exchanged a quick glance. “Or we could leave now,” offered Karadon. “After all, our mission is to bring this box to you, and we have acquitted ourselves of our duty.”
“Please sit,” offered Amaréya. “You must spend the night here. I think we have much to learn from each other.” The heiress to the throne of Gordion waited for her guests to be seated. “Let us start from the beginning then,” said Amaréya. “Our daughter has a special gift the Temple finds dangerous, which is why we turned to Ashod for help. In the eyes of the Temple, we are outlaws, so you share a common fate with us. As such, we must pool our resources and help each other.”
“When did you find out about her special abilities?” asked Hoda.
“Six years ago,” said Amaréya, “when Aquilina challenged her friends to a knife-wielding game.”
Six years ago? The
coincidence perturbed Hoda. This is when Ahiram’s medallion betrayed us on the beach.
“How old was she?” asked Karadon.
“Six years old. She was six years old,” replied Corintus with great emphasis. “I can’t imagine what we would have done if we had had twins.”
Seeing Karadon smile his dreamy smile, Hoda felt like kicking him. Now is not the time to think about babies. Seeing her scowl, he regained his composure. “And that is when you sought Ashod’s assistance?” he asked.
“No. We did not fully understand her special ability back then,” explained Corintus. “That happened fairly recently.”
“So that’s when you decided to seek advice from Ashod?”
“Yes, we need some way to help our daughter control her abilities so she can hide them from the Temple.”
“Very wise. A mere suspicion is sufficient for the Temple to act,” confirmed Karadon.
Corintus told Karadon and Hoda about his meeting with Ashod, omitting the exchange he had had with his wife before his departure.
“I will leave tonight and visit Ashod,” he had told her. “He is far more learned about these things than we are.”
“You mean far more learned about Seers?”
Corintus had nodded. “That, and there may be a connection between Aquilina and the Pit of Fire prophecy.”
Amaréya perked up. Corintus had already told her he would be seeking Ashod’s help. Repeating an already agreed upon line-of-action was tantamount to telling her he could no longer trust her, but a connection with the prophecy was a new fact. Sharing new facts with an Empyrean was the most common way to honor them.
“You are like a vorlogh, Avinilé, quiet and dispersed in the heat of summer, but deadly and fast like lightning in the depth of winter.”
He smiled. A vorlogh was a fearsome creature of the Empyrean forests, and Avinilé, White Falcon, was her Empyrean nickname for him. Corintus gave her a charming, youthful smile. Involuntarily, she blushed.
Wrath of the Urkuun (Epic of Ahiram Book 2) Page 25