“The vision is no dream, Ibromaliöm,” whispered the voice. “He will wrest the power from your very hands at a moment you do not expect, unless you be rid of him first.”
“Speculation. No one knows how to interpret these visions?”
“You saw the face of that slave.”
“Bruised and battered and near death, yes.” snapped Ibromaliöm. “And I also saw the priestess of Baal, and that idiot, Baru, or what’s-his-name, and a slew of others as well. Who is to say that this slave will wrest anything from me?”
These self-inflicted arguments tired Ibromaliöm. To test his own internal logic, he had grown accustomed to argue opposite sides of the same point. He wished he could stop but could not help it. The stakes were high, and the face of Ahiram kept popping up like a distracting fly. Deep down, Ibromaliöm sensed Ahiram could mean trouble—even though he did not know why. Moreover, no amount of logic could shake his conviction. He tried once more to convince himself. “So far there is no trace of him. When he appears, we will take good care of this lad.” Ibromaliöm smiled at this prospect and breathed deeply trying to whisk away his doubts. Soon, the eyelids of Jaguar-Night would be his.
When it was his turn to keep watch, Ahiram leaned against a tree trunk, his hand cautiously resting on his sword, and his senses alert. He had learned to relax his muscles and rest even in the most awkward positions. He glanced up and sighed. How long is the night when you’re hoping for dawn. He was impatient to meet with Tanios and Habael again. He needed answers. Tanios had told him that he had been demoted from the privileged rank of Solitary. Was this still true? Now that he had found the real wings of meyroon, was he free or still a slave? He looked to his right and saw Banimelek assuming the same posture. Jedarc slept a few feet away from Hiyam. Jedarc in love with her? Who would have thought?
He remembered how sad Jedarc had been when, while on the road, he had pretended to keep Hiyam as a slave, after he had told her he would set her free. It had been a misplaced jest of poor taste. Jedarc’s composure had fallen, and Ahiram immediately stopped. Jedarc was one of two people he could not bear to see sad. The other was Noraldeen. He called them the Innocents, an endearment he had shared with Banimelek who grunted in approval. Banimelek and him were like brothers. They carried deep wounds and losses of loved ones. Jedarc and Noraldeen were polar opposites who radiated joy and levity of heart. Gazing at them always gave him hope that good things were possible. The beauty and goodness he saw in them meant his belief in good things to come would be realized one day. His hope, wistful today, may become tangible reality tomorrow. Therefore, he could not bear to see either of them sad or forlorn. Incapable of feeling their joy, he lived by their side like a mendicant who, unable to afford a good meal, sits by the door and is content with the delicious smell. Ahiram needed Jedarc and Noraldeen far more than they ever knew. He needed them to feel whole and be happy, and to that end he would do anything for them.
Ahiram stretched and leaned once more against the tree. Thus far, Hiyam had not given him any cause for concern. Banimelek had tried to talk some sense into Jedarc, but without success. Hiyam surprised them by holding a straightforward conversation with Jedarc. She told him her mother was on her mind, and once they have reached Baalbek, she would invite him over for a formal visit. More than that, she could not offer. This had a sobering effect on the Silent, who calmed down and returned to his good-natured self. Ahiram and Banimelek breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ahiram, someone is standing in front of the barricade.”
Instantly, Ahiram was up and standing next to Sondra. Light had finally begun to streak the dark sky and they knew dawn would break soon. A giant of a man, and his horse, stood before the barricade. The monstrous size of the barrier did not seem to faze him. The stench was stronger now. Frajil had but one question on his mind: how to get to the Carnival. He worked out a brilliant plan: Frajil not climb. Horse too heavy on shoulders. Frajil not dig. Frajil go around.
He was about to enter Magdala when he saw a young man running in his direction. He did not bear a sword and did not look hostile.
“Excuse me, sir,” said Jedarc, “I am a Silent of His Majesty.”
“Yes?” said the giant, putting on his best manners. “Little one hungry?” which was his way of asking, “Can I help you?”
“Well, you shouldn’t enter this forest, it’s forbidden.”
Frajil sneezed. He was allergic to the word ‘forbidden’.“Frajil not understand. Frajil want go to carnival, and Frajil not want to tire by carrying horse over mountain, so Frajil go around.”
“But you may not be able to come back.”
“Frajil not want to come back. Not till after carnival.”
“No, I mean you may not be able to come back at all.”
Frajil looked at the young one who spoke to him and saw concern in his eyes. “Young rooster should not worry. Frajil show you he can go and come back. Hold Frajil’s horse.”
“What are they doing?” grumbled Banimelek.
“I don’t know Faernor. We had better go find out,” replied Sondra.
The rest of the group joined them. Sheheluth avoided Ahiram; she was still pondering the meaning of her latest discovery about Ahiram, for he was now, in her eyes, théléos, god-crusher.
Ahead, Jedarc tried one more time to stop Frajil. “You mustn’t …”
Frajil ignored him. He chose to go around the barricade by way of the Forbidden Forest. He went into the forest and walked through undergrowth until he reached the opposite side of Middle Road.
“Frajil back on road,” he yelled. “Frajil not smitten. Frajil come back now.” A short moment later, Frajil emerged from the forest. He gripped Jedarc, lifted him, and gave him a bear hug. “Young rooster not worry. Frajil is not, not unharmed.”
“Extraordinary,” whispered Zurwott. “In the most extraordinarily extraordinary manner.”
“Indeed,” added Sheheluth. “He managed to get in and out of Magdala unharmed.”
“Young roosters want come with me?” asked Frajil. “We go to carnival together.” With that, Frajil, who considered it proper to share the load with his horse, lifted the steed and stepped into Magdala.
“Wow …” said Ahiram.
Everyone else was just as flabbergasted as he was.
“Let’s go,” said Sheheluth. “What are you waiting for?”
“The Silent shall not tempt the gods,” quoted Sondra. “No one has entered the Forest of Magdala and survived. The Silent shall avoid Magdala at all cost.”
“The Book of Siril, chapter seven, verse five,” completed Banimelek.
Sheheluth peered through the opening, then fixed her gaze on Ahiram. In the ambient darkness, her eyes glittered and without warning, the Silent found himself standing once more in front of the massive star.
“Ahiram, what do you see?” Sheheluth’s voice was commanding.
“I see … a star …”
“Do you see anything else?”
Ahiram looked around him. Aside from the light of the star—that somehow did not blind or burn him—there was only the cold hollow space filled with an unbearable silence.
“No. There is nothing else.”
Ahiram blinked and was back with his friends standing before the giant mound. The strange experience had only lasted the span of two breaths, and none of his companions noticed anything. He gazed at Sheheluth questioningly. Not a word to anyone, she seemed to say.
“I think we can cross,” she said.
“How do you know this?” asked Banimelek.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said, I am no stranger to magic, and I can tell you we can cross now.” Not waiting, she went ahead.
“Sheheluth, wait,” shouted Sondra.
“It’s all right,” replied the young girl from the other side. “I’m on the main road now. I’m safe.”
The Silent and the dwarfs exchanged confused glances.
“What’s going on?” whispered Hiyam. “Are we allowe
d to cross through a forbidden forest now? I am from the Temple …”
“This is forebodingly foreboding, and foreboding in the most forebodingly foreboding manner,” stuttered Zurwott.
Jedarc shrugged his shoulders. “Well, Magdala, or whomever lives within, does not like this mound and they’re helping us. That’s all. I say we cross. Hiyam? What do you think?”
The young High Rider peered into the forest. “I am like Sheheluth; I don’t sense any danger.”
“Sondra, what do we do?” asked Jedarc.
Sondra exchanged glances with Ahiram and Banimelek. They nodded. “We go then,” she said. “Me first.”
A moment later, the entire team had joined Frajil and Sheheluth on the opposite side. Was it because Frajil was a simpleton, or because he had the heart of a child that they managed to cross safely? No one knew, but the small company stepped inside Magdala and reached the other side of Middle Road unharmed. They were awed by Frajil who had no understanding of what he had just done. I’m like him, thought Ahiram, a simpleton of sorts. I am dabbling with powers I don’t understand. He glanced at Sheheluth, but she ignored him. What was the point of showing me that star anyway?
Frajil hooted. “Good things at carnival. Frajil cannot not, not wait.”
His horse snorted. Had his steed been able to talk, he would have yelled at his rider, wondering why Frajil had carried him when he could have easily walked beside him.
By nightfall, their situation had become dire. The stench was now unbearable and still the road dug deeper between the two forests. West of the road, Magdala bristled with unseen life and pleasant scents that reached them from time to time, temporarily subduing the stench that flowed from Laymiir. Alone, Frajil was not excessively bothered by the smell, and his good humor was not dampened. As long as the sun stayed its throne in the heavens, it seemed everything would remain peaceful. When the heavenly orb fell like a soldier onto the battlefield, shadows crept forward and glittering eyes gazing out from beneath the trees followed them. Like an unholy fire, they flowed from bush to bush and from tree to tree. Orwutt and Zurwott each held a torch to keep the creatures at bay.
“Sylveeds, Sylveeds, Sylveeds …”
The refrain grew and became louder and stronger.
“Silent, draw your crossbows,” ordered Sondra. “Hiyam, Sheheluth, inside the circle.”
“We can’t stay on the road,” said Banimelek, “We’re too exposed.”
“Back into Magdala,” ordered Jedarc. “Stay on the edge of the forest but step out from the road.”
Everyone followed his command, including Frajil’s horse that had taken a liking to the Silent’s leader. At least, this one won’t try to carry me, the steed seemed to be thinking. Alone, Frajil commanded the road when they heard the twang of a bowstring being released.
“Frajil!” shouted Jedarc. “Watch out.”
The giant looked back as his hands sprang to his blades. The blades became a blur breaking the strength of the arrows into inoffensive shrapnel.“Woo-hoo,” hooted Frajil, “More, more. Frajil love games. Send more. Frajil ready.”
Attackers swarmed from the wood and surrounded the giant.
“Ahiram, keep Hiyam and Sheheluth safe,” ordered Sondra. “Banimelek and Jedarc, with me. Dwarfs, if you care to fight —”
“We are fitting fighters fit for a fitful fight and not fitful fighters fit for a frightfully fleeting flight,” replied Zurwott.
“Zurwott, stop trying to speak in the common tongue. It’s dreadful.”
“Attack!” shouted Sondra.
Before the small group reached Frajil, he had mowed down half of the assailants. His long blades in his powerful arms were like windmills caught in a tornado. They were deadly and invisible. A passing shadow, a slight flick of the wrist, and more sylveeds fell.
“Roosters want help me?” he boomed, seeing the Silent coming to his aid. “And chicks too?” he added when he noticed the dwarfs. “Frajil make one big space.”
Ahiram stood and watched the battle. Oddly, his sword did not vibrate. Seeing more of the ashen creatures join the fray, he looked at Hiyam. “I’m going to help them,” he said. He was about to unsheathe his blade when Sheheluth placed a hand on his arm. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“You do realize,” she snapped, “that as soon as you unsheathe this blade, he will know you’re here?”
“What do you mean?” Ahiram was confused.
Sheheluth sighed. “I don’t understand how you could be wielding this blade and not possess even the basic rudiments of magic.”
“Let go of my arm, Sheheluth,” said Ahiram not listening. “This is my last warning.”
“Ahiram,” interjected Hiyam, “Sheheluth is right. Use your blade and the magician behind all this will know you’re here.”
“He is after you, you do realize that, don’t you?” pounded Sheheluth.
On the road, the ranks of the sylveeds were swelling.
“Then why hasn’t he attacked me before?” snarled Ahiram. “If you’re so smart, Miss-I-know-everything, then why didn’t he attack me when I used my blade to save Hiyam from the béghôm?”
“I don’t know,” Sheheluth admitted, “but here you can see his power everywhere. If he knows you’re here this skirmish will turn into a desperate battle for us.”
“Fine,” spat Ahiram yanking his arm away, his temper exploding. “I don’t need a sword after all.”
“Ahiram!” yelled Sheheluth, but he was already gone.
Like a whirlwind he fell on his attackers. Bones snapped, ribs cracked, and bodies flew. A dark rage animated him, moving him forward, carrying him from one foe to another, his fists and legs working like a tireless beast of old. Nothing stood in his way and still the enemy surged from under the forest threatening to overwhelm the Frajil and the Silent. Despite their resistance, four Silent, two dwarfs and one giant could not sustain the onslaught of hundreds of determined sylveeds—many of whom were trained Empyrean fighters.
Hiyam stepped onto the road, raised her hands to the heavens, then slapped them together. Opening her palms, she willed to repel the attackers. A strong wind surged and forced the sylveeds back. The friends shouted for joy, but then Hiyam screamed and fell holding her head.
Jedarc ran back and held her. “Hiyam, Hiyam what’s wrong?”
Sheheluth joined him. “She cannot hear you. She’s under attack. Quick, we must take her back to Magdala.” Jedarc lifted Hiyam and carried her to the forest.
“They’re coming back,” warned Ahiram. Without looking away, he tapped with his left foot according to an established pattern. Banimelek lit a torch and threw it high overhead. It streaked the night sky and fell into Laymiir. In the brief moment that the torch lit the night, they saw the forest crawling with sylveeds that lashed out without fear or restraint. Like the head of a viper, they struck with blinding speed, snatched Orwutt and Zurwott, then ran back into the forest.
“After them!” yelled Ahiram.
He felt a heavy hand grip his head, which immobilized him. “Little one stay here. If little one go under trees, little one die. Too many of ugly creatures,” said Frajil quietly.
“They have our friends, we must rescue them.”
Ahiram grabbed his bag wanting to use his artifacts but recanted. I am not ready to fly, he thought with mounting frustration.
“Serpent caught chicks,” said Frajil, struggling to string a series of ideas into a comprehensible argument. “Serpent below ground. No hand can catch it. Only fire and smoke. Serpent gone, chicks gone.”
“He is right, Alendiir,” added Sondra. “We cannot hunt them in the darkness of the forest. We are ill-equipped and we do not know what we are facing.”
“Jedarc, how’s Hiyam?” asked Ahiram, his eyes locked on Laymiir.
“Recovering,” replied Hiyam, still shaken. “His counter-attack is incredible,” she said. “I’ve never faced anything like it.”
“By the way,” interjected Sondra, “why do you keep
saying ‘he’ this and ‘he’ that. How do you know it is a ‘he’? This bothers me.”
“Really, Sondra?” protested Banimelek. “Now?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Just saying.”
“I’m going to start calling you Zurwott,” said Jedarc.
“You can all go now,” said Ahiram. “I will go rescue Orwutt and Zurwott. They are my friends. I told them they could come with us. I am responsible for them.”
Banimelek came and placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re not betraying them if that’s what you’re thinking. They wouldn’t have gone after you if you had been in there. There’s foul magic at play here and we’re not equipped to face this horde in the dark.”
“Are you sure?”
“Plain as the day is day,” said Banimelek. “Besides, don’t count them out just yet. Dwarfs are far more resourceful than we give them credit for.”
“Ahiram, a word.”
He glanced at Sheheluth. “Quickly, then.”
“Not on the road,” she protested. “In Magdala.”
Sensing that Sheheluth wanted to speak alone with Ahiram, the rest of the company stepped a few feet away while remaining under the protection of the forest.
“Your heart is in the right place, but your behaving foolishly.”
“Foolishly? These are my friends and if I can help them I—”
“Your action is foolish, even though you are not,” cut in Sheheluth impatiently. “Do you remember what I told you about théléos? You are tapping into a powerful source of energy. Well, so are these creatures that attacked us and so is the one behind them.”
“And your point?”
“Listen, Ahiram, I know this is hard for you to understand, but with a little experience this will become obvious. Your capacity to tap into energy is terrifying. What you can do, what you will be able to do is unimaginable. Anyone with knowledge of these things will want you gone as quickly as possible. This attack may be a trick to ferret you out. These creatures may have grabbed the dwarfs by mistake. If you go after them with whatever means you have, your enemy, who is stronger than you, will capture and most likely kill you. You are not ready for this.”
Wrath of the Urkuun (Epic of Ahiram Book 2) Page 38