“As you know, the Marada are giants of incredible strength, aloof and unconcerned by the affairs of men. Why they joined the battle at such a desperate moment, we may never know. They came like thunder, and fell on their enemies. The urkuun blazed fire on them but could not pierce through their stony shields.”
This part of ancient history was not new to the Silent, but hearing it told by Lord Orgond in the Fortress of Amsheet turned the shadows of the past into sinister figures lurking in the darkness. This was no longer a mere remembrance of great deeds done by characters frozen in the stream of long forgotten tales; this had suddenly become their struggle, their fate, their future.
“Again, peace reigned for three hundred years. We forgot our enemies. But while the Wars of Fire raged, the Lords of the Deep had begun fashioning the Urkuuns of the Third Order. These last three creatures were called Power, and they were masters of magic. The last of them, the ninth urkuun, was called the Seducer because he enticed the hearts of men to follow and serve him. With them began the last and most terrible wars of the Age of the Second Covenant, The Wars of Meyroon that lasted two hundred years. These three urkuun nearly succeeded in conquering all the kingdoms.
“To fuel their conquests, these monsters required a great supply of meyroon to sustain themselves, and meyroon was plentiful in the Kingdom of Tanniin. The urkuun enslaved the dwarfs and forced them to dig the mines. Then they enslaved men and forced them to work the mines. El-Windiir was one such slave. Even though despair turned men into beasts, El-Windiir remained true to his first love, Layaleen, and in so doing, became acceptable to the Lords of Light. They tasked him with an impossible feat: to block the supply of meyroon from the Lords of the Pit for four days. How this lonely man managed to inspire his fellow slaves, we may never know. Despair turned to hope and fear into resplendent acts of courage. These nameless heroes blocked the mines of Meyroon and paid with their blood the ultimate price. They weakened the three urkuuns and gave the third army of light an edge in the battle. Then the Temple of Baal joined forces with El-Windiir and confronted magic with magic. The weakened two urkuuns fell under the golden arrows of Ximban, the legendary archer of Quibanxe. The last, the Seducer, stood defiant. He repelled every attempt and derided the army. Even the Temple of Baal could not overtake him. El-Windiir drew closer, unnoticed to the Seducer. He was terrified, yet he forced himself to continue. The Seducer boasted, confident in his might. This proved to be his downfall. The Malikuun had revealed to him that only a sword forged of pure meyroon could pierce an urkuun’s magic. The dwarfs who were enslaved with El-Windiir forged such a sword for him. He called it Layaleen, the name of his beloved wife. With one masterful blow, El-Windiir drove his sword into the Seducer’s heart, and the urkuun fell. El-Windiir and his allies took charge of the mines and defended them. In the ensuing battle, the Lord of Light defeated the Lord of the Deep. Peace was restored. We believed the Seducer had been destroyed, until now.”
Orgond looked at Bahiya. This was her cue. She stood up.
“We know that every creature of the dark has a landmark signature,” she explained. “When an urkuun sets his lair, he surrounds it with strong curses and marks the area with squares and circles dug into the ground or carved into trees or rocks. The simplicity of the signature is purposeful; it is meant to alert his allies that they are in his territory. The number of squares indicates the urkuun’s order and the number of circles, the urkuun’s level—”
“So then,” interjected Lord Orgond, who could see many confused faces, “the First Urkuun of the Second Order would carve two squares and four circles, is that not so, Lady Bahiya?”
“Precisely. On the way to Amsheet, a woman told us her brother had worked as a cook in Hardeen. Her cousin saw three rectangles magically appear in the fortress’s ground surrounded by nine circles.”
A hush fell in the room as they pondered the priestesses’ words.
“The Third Urkuun of the Third Level,” whispered Jedarc.
Banimelek nodded.
Noraldeen stomped on Jedarc’s foot. “Be quiet or my father will have us leave the room.”
“This woman,” continued Bahiya, “a farmer by all accounts, could not have known what this meant. I am convinced the Seducer, the ninth urkuun, and the third of the third order has taken over Hardeen. The presence of these so-called sylveeds is another sure sign that the Seducer has emerged: He is turning people into monsters by seducing them.”
Orgond lifted the sheath with great care before continuing. “When El-Windiir defeated the urkuun, he ordered a special sheath be made for his sword. The sheath would not accept any other sword but Layaleen.” He unsheathed his own sword and tried to slide it into the broken sheath. An unseen power blocked the sword, preventing it from moving forward. “No other sword will do,” he added, sheathing back his sword. “Only Layaleen. Before leaving for his last battle, El-Windiir broke the sheath and commanded the keeper of his house to watch over it until the return of the sword.” He raised his hands to let everyone see the sheath. “I am the current keeper of El-Windiir’s house. We have faithfully kept the sheath from generation to generation. The sheath will only be restored when both pieces come in contact with Layaleen.”
“With Layaleen, we may have a chance to defeat our enemy,” continued Tanios. “But without it, our chances are slim.”
“What does the urkuun want?” asked Ahiram.
His question surprised the council. They had assumed everyone knew what the Seducer wanted.
“The urkuun is at the service of the Lords of the Deep,” answered Bahiya. “His sole purpose is to raise an army and open the Pit of the Abyss. Once freed, his masters will unleash their destructive power on the land and usher in a reign of darkness and chaos.”
Silence fell. “How can we, so few, hope to defeat such a powerful foe?” asked Banimelek, voicing nearly everyone’s concern.
Ahiram saw the sullen faces of his friends. As he looked around, his gaze met Master Habael’s, who looked at him as though saying, what are you waiting for? Ahiram sighed. All he wanted was to be free, to return to Baher-Ghafé. Yet without him, what would become of his friends? Slowly, he drew closer to the high priestess. Both Commander Tanios and Lord Orgond scowled in disapproval, but he ignored them. He stood before Bahiya.
“Supposing I had the sword in my possession and I faced the urkuun. Would I be able to return home a free man?”
Bahiya looked at Ahiram with sorrowful eyes, as if he had reopened a deep, hidden wound. All council members noticed how pale she was.
Is she seeing a ghost? Uziguzi wondered.
At last, Habael broke the silence. “Do what you must, lad.” Ahiram looked at him, and Bahiya slumped in her chair as if freed from a powerful spell. Ahiram could not resist the old man’s warm smile. He relaxed and smiled back.
“I shall do what my sister would bid me to do.” he replied.He went and stood in front of Lord Orgond.
Tanios was about to order him back to his place when Habael whispered in his ear, “Let the lad speak.”
Ahiram looked at the broken halves of the sheath. “May I hold them for a moment?” he asked Lord Orgond.
“Ahiram,” interjected Tanios, for whom this was too much. “Go back to your place immediately.”
“Give the lad a chance,” cut in Master Habael in a soothing tone.
This surprised Tanios, who was not used to an assertive Habael. The Lord of Amsheet looked at the young man sternly, thinking this was indeed an impertinent slave. Let him make a fool of himself, and let Noraldeen see how preposterous he is. He glanced at his daughter. She had an indefinable smile, something between relief and elation. Orgond felt foolish but did not know why.
He stepped aside and signaled for Ahiram to draw closer. Ahiram unsheathed his blade and raised it in the presence of all.
“Lord Orgond, I ask your permission to sheath my sword with these two pieces,” he said.
Commander Tanios was about to jump from his seat and slap t
he slave when Habael stood up and spoke.
“Commander Tanios, Your Lordship, and all who are present. I would like to vouchsafe my humble word in favor of this lad. I will take the blame if you consider his action impertinent.”
Reluctantly, the commander nodded. Lord Orgond looked at Habael, then surveyed all those who were present. Clearly, most of them did not approve of the actions of this young man.
“Father, I add my word to that of Master Habael,” said Noraldeen. “Please, let Ahiram sheath his sword.”
Lord Orgond looked sternly at Ahiram.
“Young man, do you know the penalty for forgery? This is a most sacred object, and we do not treat impostors lightly. Only Layaleen will fit inside this sheath. Do you claim that you,” continued Orgond with a note of chastisement he could not hide, “a slave, hold in your hands the legendary sword of El-Windiir?”
“Ahiram,” interjected Hiyam. “Tell them about the monster.”
Sheheluth nodded. “Tell them, Ahiram.”
The Silent felt the familiar irritation well up inside him. He wished this useless discussion would end so he could sheath the sword. Habael’s reassuring gaze once more invited him to patience.
“The monster, ah yes,” said Master Xurgon. He stood up. “Your Lordship and all you benevolent and mighty present, I am not one to be entwined in hum-drums and topsy-turvy fables of dubious origins, whose source cannot be tracked to solid facts embedded in the rock of reality, and realistically verifiable by obvious means and means within reach. I am one to attest that this young man has accomplished the unthinkable and has done so impeccably, so much so, that peace reigns in our corridors where once strife and impediments to lateral movements were the norm. He has indeed made way with the beast.”
“Which beast is that?” asked Uziguzi, intrigued.
“A béghôm,” replied Ahiram lightly. “Killed by this sword I hold in my hands.” He whisked the sword through the air and it rang joyfully.
“You killed a béghôm?” asked Lord Orgond, incredulous.
“Yes.” Ahiram sustained his glare.
“My Lord,” interjected Tanios, “I have known this lad for six years now. He may be impulsive and ill tempered, but a liar he is not. If he says that he killed a béghôm, I believe him.”
Lord Orgond looked at Gaëla, who nodded. “Sheath your sword.”
Silence fell on the room. Ahiram bowed before Lord Orgond. He took the first half of the sheath and slid it easily over the sword until it touched the handle. It locked in place. A gasp filled the room. He then took the second piece, took a breath, and effortlessly slid it after the first. The fit between them was flawless. Everyone rose to their feet. Ahiram felt a slight tremor along the blade and light flashed through the hairline seam between the two parts of the sheath. Ahiram unsheathed the sword, gripped the sheath, and held it high for all to see. The two pieces had become one. He placed the sheath on the table, raised his sword and proclaimed:
“I am the bearer of the sword! Layaleen is mine!” He looked at the astonished crowd as he vowed, “I will slay the urkuun and free the land from its evil. By this, all will know that El-Windiir is claiming the land once more. I am Ahiram, Son of Jabbar, and by the honor of my father, I will confront the urkuun and slay him. His blood will spill on the land!”
Lord Orgond knelt before Ahiram. Then Commander Tanios, Master Habael, Master Xurgon, and the entire body of the Silent Corps followed suit. Bahiya bowed, as did Uziguzi, and Princess Gaëla.
Though he felt unworthy of it, Ahiram accepted their homage. “Never ask more than what the meat is worth,” his father had once told him. “In all things, deal honorably. And above all else, be truthful.” Ahiram did not know why these words came back to him, but he knew he had to live by his word and fulfill what he had promised.
Down in the dungeons of the fortress, an Empyrean, a member of Princess Gaëla’s retinue, had made his way into Zirka’s room. Behind her, a strangled guard lay on the floor.
“Quick,” she said, “go alert the master. The sword of defamation is found, and has been raised against him by El-Windiir’s heir.”
Zirka rose quickly and slipped out of the dungeon. Soon he was out of the fortress and on his way to Hardeen.
Ahiram stood on the balcony that overlooked the gentle valley below the fortress. The city basked in quiet obscurity beneath a star-studded sky. Oddly, he could not see the moon. The air was brisk and reminded him somehow of the air back home. Hoda, where are you? Why didn’t you come back? Why did you let them take me away? He heard a noise from the road below: a heave, a screech, and wood creaking under the heavy weight of an object sliding noisily on a rough surface.
“Be careful,” said someone. “You almost dropped it.”
“Careful, careful.” repeated the echo.
He saw a group of men hunched over a cart, straining with effort as they wheeled it. Ostensibly, it carried a large, heavy object that a thick cloak concealed from view. Ahiram stood mesmerized. Something beneath the cloak was calling his name.
“Hello,” said Noraldeen gently.
Unable to tear his gaze, he spoke abruptly. “What’s in the cart?”
His tone was hurtful, but she ignored it. “The statue of Jaguar-Night. The procession will start in a couple of hours. Why do you ask?” She looked at him and moved closer, but he kept his gaze on the cart as though troubled by it. She had hoped he would ignore their surroundings and pay attention to her alone.
“You miss your family, Ahiram?”
“Yes,” he replied. The pull weakened as the cart moved away.
“You are a free man now,” she observed, trying to cheer him up.
Ahiram laughed bitterly. “After all these years, what is the use of my freedom if I cannot return home? Now I must fight the urkuun, and who knows if I will survive this battle.”
Noraldeen did not flinch. The anticipation of seeing him again had turned into a bittersweet disappointment. “What if you cannot see them?” she asked softly. “What if they are not … in your village?”
“What do you mean?” asked Ahiram, incredulous.
She smiled a sad smile keeping a close watch over her feelings. “You might want to ask the commander,” she said at last. “I had hoped we could talk about … other things but I guess it cannot be helped. You should go and ask the commander.”
“But, where would they be? What are you hiding from me?” Noraldeen slowly stepped back and Ahiram closed in until her back was against the wall. “Noraldeen, tell me! Don’t hide anything from me. If you know something about my family and you do not tell me, you cannot call yourself my friend.”
This last word stung, more than she expected. She pushed him violently. “I am not your friend. I love you. Ahiram, your parents are dead. Do you hear me? They are dead!” she screamed. “Ask Commander Tanios, he will tell you.” Noraldeen slowly slid down the wall sobbing. She did not need to look up to know that Ahiram had left.
The council finalized their strategy. It was daring; some might call it insane, but this was their best plan of attack.
“Defeating the urkuun inside Hardeen is impossible,” Lord Orgond summarized. “But it hates the light of day and passes on this hatred to the sylveeds. The high priestess will cross into Empyrean territory, with Commander Tanios, and they will sneak into the Fortress through a secret door. Bahiya will mount an attack to weaken and force the Urkuun out of his lair. The Silent will accompany them since Princess Gaëla cannot guarantee their safe passage. The Empress is not aware of her daughter’s initiative and therefore to most Empyreans outside the Princess’ immediate followers, the Commander and the High Priestess would be considered spies.”
Orgond sighed before continuing. “In the meantime, the urkuun will unleash its forces against us. The Empyreans will join in battle on the plain of Hardeen. We will need to hold the Sylveeds back until the urkuun is flushed out and Ahiram confronts him. The thought that victory rests on the shoulders of a single young man is enough
to send cold shivers down my spine. Yet, as Lord Uziguzi mentioned, there is a worse fate than defeat: Ahiram could join the urkuun. If this were to happen, who knows what calamity may come to us all?”
“This is why,” interjected Princess Gaëla, “I am against allowing the young man to face the urkuun alone.”
“It is too dangerous, Your Highness,” replied Commander Tanios. “Anyone who comes close to the urkuun may easily fall under its spell. You know this as well as anyone. We must keep our distance.”
“But you will face him in Hardeen,” replied the princess.
“An unavoidable risk,” replied the commander. “Not so when he is in the open. There you have the option of staying behind the lines of defense and acting with greater liberty. I think the wisdom of this plan will become manifest once we confront the urkuun.”
“If none of us can withstand the power of the urkuun,” said Uziguzi pensively, “how can we let this boy face the monster alone?”
“What is necessary is fateful, and what is fateful is to pass,” answered Master Xurgon. “That the boy must face an ancient horror requires our consent and helpful participation, beyond an uncompromising boundary that none of the most august present can cross.”
Ahiram stormed through the door, startling them.
“Ahiram, what is the meaning of this?” asked the commander.
Ahiram ignored him. “Are my parents and my sister dead?”
“What?” Tanios felt as if someone had punched him in the gut.
Bahiya covered her face. How did he find out? I only shared this information with Tanios recently so that he could break it to Ahiram and help him better prepare for battle. I knew the urkuun would want to torture him with the events of Baher-Ghafé. Did the monster attack him here despite my protective spells?
“Is it true that my family is dead, Commander? I must know.”
Tanios looked hard at Ahiram, but the young man did not avert his eyes. For the first time ever, Ahiram sustained his master’s glare. The commander knew Ahiram would not accept anything but the truth.
Wrath of the Urkuun (Epic of Ahiram Book 2) Page 43