Akiri: Sands Of Darkness

by Brian D. Anderson

  It did not take long to locate the staircase they were looking for. Two men in red robes guarded the fairly narrow way down, making it impossible for anyone to sneak past them without being noticed. Not that this presented much of a problem. The hall was lit by a single lantern, allowing the pair to get reasonably close before being seen. More than close enough for Akiri.

  Reaching into his left boot, he retrieved a small knife and gestured for Palazar to stay where he was. Remaining close to the wall, he eased his way toward the two guards, the longer dagger in his right hand, the smaller blade in his left. When he was only a few paces away, as if some instinct had warned him, the nearest guard turned.

  It was too late. Akiri cleared the remaining distance between them and plunged the dagger deep into his throat before he could utter a sound. The second guard had no time to react. With precise control, Akiri used the small knife to open his throat too. Just to be certain of maintaining silence, he then pressed a hand over each of his victim’s mouths until all signs of life had faded. Only then were both allowed to slide slowly to the floor.

  Palazar hurried over, eyes wide. “Are you possessed? No one can move that fast.”

  Akiri ignored the remark and started down the stairs. From behind a door below, he could hear several voices talking in hushed tones, though it was difficult to tell exactly how many foes he would be facing. Sheathing his dagger and knife, he drew his sword.

  A touch on his shoulder made him pause. Palazar moved past him to approach the door. Taking a small bottle from the pouch on his belt, he poured a liberal amount of clear liquid onto each hinge and backed away.

  At Akiri’s nod, the door eased open just a hair without so much as a squeak. Clever, he thought. He’d have to remember that trick. Peering inside, he saw four men sitting around a small table. There were two doors at the rear of the room, but there was no sign of Rashid.

  The men were too far away and the room too well lit for him to sneak up on them quietly. Looking over his shoulder, he gestured for Palazar to stay put. His companion nodded sharply. Akiri then tightened his grip on his blade and took a deep breath.

  Shoving the door fully open, he burst into the room. With eyes wide, all four men scrambled to their feet. They were still rising when Akiri swung his blade into the nearest man’s collarbone, its keen steel cutting him almost in two. Jerking his weapon free, he spun and took the head of a second man before his blade was even halfway out of its sheath.

  The remaining two had kept themselves behind the table and managed to draw their swords.

  “Intruder!” one of the men screamed.

  Akiri threw the table aside, smashing it to splinters against the wall. As he did so, the door to his right opened, and three more men came rushing through. Something flew past him, and a split second later the lead man was clutching at a dagger protruding from his chest.

  Taking advantage of the pair behind being temporarily hampered by their dying comrade, Akiri stepped left, and in a rapid flurry of strikes, quickly opened up massive wounds on both men’s chest and arms. The remaining two were upon him, and he was only just able to slide right in time to prevent the slice of a sword gutting him.

  Palazar charged in from the doorway, his short sword held high. Too high, in fact. Seeing the danger, Akiri ducked under another attack and rolled left. Springing up with all his strength directly in front of Palazar an instant before he would have been skewered, he thrust his shoulder into the second man’s ribs, lifting him several inches off the ground and sending him sprawling.

  But saving Palazar would cost him. The sharp kiss of steel bit into his right arm. With an infuriated snarl, Akiri turned and swung his sword in a diagonal strike that carried all of his rage. His enemy made a desperate attempt to block the attack, but his steel shattered under the sheer ferocity of the impact. He tried to run, only to have Akiri ram his sword through his back and into his heart. As the man fell, a loud gasp and a gurgle from across the room told Akiri that Palazar was finishing off the final foe.

  He looked at his wound and then glowered at Palazar. “When I tell you to stay put, you do as I say.”

  After giving him an embarrassed look, Palazar retrieved the dagger he had thrown. “I was only trying to–”

  Akiri’s hand shot up. “Be quiet.” Coming through the doorway from where the three others had emerged, he could hear the whispering voices of yet more men further along. And now there was a new sound as well: the frightened cries of a child. “When you see Rashid, take whoever is closest to him. Leave the rest of them to me.”

  They moved into a larger room littered with broken crates and piles of moldy cloth. A set of double doors faced them at the far end and three single ones lay off to the right, all of which were hanging open.

  Akiri caught a movement from the middle doorway. Pushing Palazar to one side, he threw himself flat just as the whistle of an arrow cut through the air. Even before the missile had thudded harmlessly against the far wall and clattered to the floor, he was back on his feet and spanning the room. Their attacker was frantically trying to string another arrow when Akiri planted his sword into the man’s chest.

  Behind the bowman lay an empty room. Akiri rapidly checked the two other open doors. One led into a small storage closet, and the other was filled with empty wine racks.

  Palazar was back on his feet, dagger in hand. He shook his head in wonder. “Not only do you move like a demon, you have the eyes of a hawk. What a fine thief you would make.”

  Akiri did not bother replying. Instead, he crossed to the double doors and listened carefully. All was quiet except for the stifled sobs of a child.

  Once Palazar was beside him, he planted a mighty kick where the two doors joined. They erupted inwards, one flying completely off its hinges, the other slamming violently into the wall behind it. Three more men were inside. One was standing just behind Rashid, holding a dagger to the boy’s throat. The other two, though holding short blades, looked terrified.

  “Release the boy!” Akiri commanded.

  “Step through that door and you can have his body,” the man holding Rashid shot back. Unlike the others, he did not sound afraid.

  Akiri looked to Palazar, who nodded back with understanding. Leaping into the doorway, his arm shot forward in a blur.

  Although having already decided that the thief was greatly skilled in the art of knife throwing, Akiri was nonetheless relieved to see that his aim was true. The dagger sank in up to the hilt, just below the man’s throat. As it struck he jerked back, his blade drawing a thin trickle of blood from Rashid’s neck as he released his grip. But there was no further threat to the child. The man could only fall to his knees, clutching at his throat and gasping desperately for his last few breaths.

  Akiri entered the room, snarling viciously at the remaining pair. “Throw down your swords and you will live.”

  They exchanged fearful glances before quickly doing as they were ordered.

  Rashid sprang up and raced over to Akiri. “I knew you’d come,” he cried, throwing his arms around Akiri’s waist. “I prayed to Mishna. I knew she would send you.”

  Akiri groaned at the sound of the god’s name. “Go with Palazar and wait for me,” he instructed the boy. He then turned his attention to the devotees. “On your knees and face the wall.”

  Once Rashid had been led out, Akiri ripped two strips of cloth from the dead man’s shirt and tied the devotee’s hands.

  “I promised you would live,” he told them. “Now it’s time to see which one of you gets to keep their eyes.”

  As he expected, these were far from men with iron will, but he was still surprised at how easily they offered information. Members of a cult were often difficult to question, but he soon discovered that both had only recently been inducted and had joined to save their own lives, rather than from any deep-seated faith.

  After establishing that the five men outside were all that remained, he dragged both survivors to the center of the room and stood ov
er them. “Now…where can I find Dabo?”

  The men looked confused. The younger devotee on his left was the first to speak.

  “We’ve never met Dabo.”

  Akiri looked to the other man, who nodded frantically. “He’s right. The only one who has ever seen him is the High Zaimon.”

  “And where can I find him?”

  “We don’t know. Only the priesthood would know that.”

  “The two of you have not been very helpful so far.” Akiri fingered the dagger in his hand.

  “The temple!” cried the younger man.

  “Shut your mouth,” snapped the other.

  In the blink of an eye, Akiri slashed the objecting man’s throat. Blood gushed from the wound as he coughed out the final few seconds of his life. When he slumped over to one side, he came to rest with his body leaning against his horrified comrade.

  “You were saying?” Akiri inquired.

  His eyes shot wide. “Please. Don’t kill me.”

  Akiri shoved the body away from him. “Pull yourself together and you might live through this. You said something about a temple.”

  “Y…yes,” he stammered. “In the Valley of the Gods. The Temple of Hajazar. That's where the priests gather to make their sacrifices.”

  “When will they be there next?”

  “We were supposed to take Lord Rashid there in three days’ time. But now, I don’t know.”

  “Who would?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Akiri leaned in, his eyes burning.

  “Please. I’ve only just joined them. They don’t tell me anything.”

  “Then how are you given your orders?”

  He bobbed his head toward the dead man. “That’s my cousin. He tells me. He’s the one who got me mixed up in all of this. You have to believe me. That’s all I know.”

  Akiri regarded the terrified devotee for a long moment, and then placed his left hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I believe you,” he said softly.

  A portion of the man’s terror subsided, but then a gasp of shock passed his lips as Akiri’s blade slipped through his ribs into his heart. With a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, he looked up accusingly at his killer for a short moment before collapsing.

  Akiri pulled the dagger free and shoved him onto his back. His victim hadn’t been lying. Not about what he knew of the order. But there was no doubt that he had taken part in the abduction of Rashid, and perhaps several of the others who had disappeared. Even if he had been an unwilling participant, he was also a coward. For him at least, death was a gift, one Akiri was more than pleased to give.

  He exited the room and found Palazar cleaning the small cut on Rashid’s neck.

  “Did he tell you what you wanted to know?” Palazar asked.

  “Partly. I know where they meet. But without Rashid, I doubt anyone will be there.”

  He knelt to the boy’s eye level. “Did they say anything about why they took you?” He could see that the boy was still afraid. “Only the few men outside are still left alive. And Kyra will be taking care of them at any moment.”

  He could feel that she was impatient to strike as she circled the five guards in the courtyard. Wicked. Evil. The words penetrated his mind. She wanted to kill them all. She wanted to hear their screams.

  “Go ahead,” he whispered almost inaudibly. “Have your fill.”

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Rashid.

  “Kyra. My dragon.”

  “You have a dragon? And it flies?”

  Akiri laughed. “Of course she flies. All dragons fly.”

  “Not the ones in Rath. Their wings are broken and tied.”

  Akiri felt a wave of anger. “And those who do this are no better than beasts.”

  Rashid grabbed Akiri’s hand. “I would never hurt a dragon. I promise. I want to ride them like you do.”

  “I don’t ride Kyra. She’s much too young for that.” He could see the look of disappointment on his little face. “One day I will, though. When she gets bigger.”

  Rashid beamed. “When she does, will you let me ride her too?”

  “Perhaps. If she permits it. For now, I need you to tell me everything you can remember about what happened.”

  While the boy spoke of his experience, Kyra was wreaking havoc outside – swooping in repeatedly and tearing the men to shreds with her talons. In the dark, they were helpless to defend themselves. One by one they fell, until only a single guard remained. Screaming of devils and spirits, he made a desperate dash to flee the grounds, but there was no escape. Kyra clamped her jaws around his torso and shook her head hard. Within seconds, his body was nothing more than a bloody mess of bones and organs.

  When the three of them emerged from the manor, such was the carnage that both Palazar and the boy were momentarily paralyzed by the scene.

  “One young dragon did all this?” said Palazar, with a look of both horror and awe. “And to think they walk about the city.”

  Akiri sniffed. “Do not compare Kyra with the captive beasts and their wretched masters that wander Rath. Kyra is free. And these men earned their fate.”

  “I’m glad they are dead,” said Rashid, anger overcoming his shock. “I wish I could have seen her do it.”

  “There will be time enough for blood,” remarked Akiri. “You will see plenty of it one day. That much you can count on.”

  “Where are you taking the boy?” asked Palazar.

  “I need to get him back to Mahir,” Akiri replied.

  “But if they see Lord Rashid return, they might try again. And as fierce as you are, you can’t fight them all.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “There’s a place not far from the city where my order meets from time to time. It’s well hidden and known only to us. I’ll take you there, and then go back to Rath and contact Mahir for you. Dabo’s followers won’t be looking for me.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to get involved,” Akiri pointed out.

  “A bit late for that now, don’t you think?” He smiled over to Rashid. “Besides, the young lord might even choose to give me a reward for my trouble.”

  “I will,” the boy promised.

  “Good. Then let us leave this foul place.”

  Kyra called triumphantly from high above. Rashid craned his neck in an effort to catch a glimpse of her. “Will she come down?” he asked.

  “When she feels like it,” Akiri replied. “As I told you, she is free. She comes and goes as she pleases.”

  “Could you call her down?”

  “Perhaps. But I won’t. Not unless I need her.”

  “And then she’ll come?”

  Akiri nodded. “She is my friend and companion. She will come for me if needed, and I would do the same for her.”

  He suddenly realized that he had not referred to anyone as being his friend in quite some time, but that was precisely what Kyra had become. His only true friend. At this point he felt closer to her than he had to his men in the Dul’Buhar. Even his old instructor and mentor, Borlon, now came second in his heart. He had heard about the bond the men of his father’s order used to share with their dragons. As time passed, he had increasingly understood this connection. Occasionally, he would imagine himself astride Kyra’s back, riding her into battle as she let forth plumes of flames to herald the death they would bring to their enemies. Though not normally prone to daydreaming, this uplifting thought was difficult to shake off.

  Kyra let forth another jubilant cry from above.

  “One day,” he said quietly. “One day we will fly together.”

  Chapter Six

  Rashid rode with Akiri for most of the journey. The child did his best to be patient, but eventually he could not contain himself any longer and begged Akiri to call for Kyra.

  “Young Rashid will be a powerful noble one day,” Palazar pointed out. “Perhaps seeing a dragon unbound and free…” He allowed his point to remain unspoken.

&nb
sp; Akiri thought for a moment. He did not like calling Kyra without need. Even so, there was merit in what Palazar was suggesting. Perhaps if Rashid were to see a free dragon himself, that might do much in years to come to bring about the release of those poor creatures in captivity. At the very least it might pave the way in preventing the capture of any more dragons.

  Kyra was flying some miles away. He tried to convey his intentions, though he was never sure of how much she understood. Emotions and short, direct thoughts were transmitted clearly enough. Her responding call came back to him quickly, and a few minutes later she came spiraling down in a steep dive, her scales shimmering like ruby armor. After sliding from the saddle, Akiri lifted Rashid to the ground. Kyra landed a few yards ahead of them, hissing and snarling, her eyes shooting from the boy to Palazar.

  Seeing that Rashid was nervous, he placed a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t trust strangers. But don’t be afraid. She won’t attack you.”

  Kyra often showed aggression toward people, but so far had never harmed anyone who had not been clearly identified as an enemy. Akiri had started to think that she was merely showing off, enjoying the fear and awe she could elicit, but he couldn’t be absolutely sure.

  “Can…can I touch her?” Rashid asked timidly.

  “I doubt it. But you are free to try.”

  “Is that wise?” Palazar said, a worried look on his face.

  “Kyra may not allow Rashid to touch her, but she will not hurt him.”

  Rashid walked forward with small uncertain steps, hands outstretched. “She is so beautiful.”

  Kyra gurgled and shook her head.

  “Yes. You are absolutely beautiful.”

  Kyra stepped back, snorting a breath of hot air.

  “I only want to touch you,” Rashid continued, his eyes transfixed. “If you will allow it.”

  To Akiri’s astonishment, Kyra lowered her head and stood perfectly still until Rashid had placed his tiny hands on her neck. Her muscles caused her scales to ripple as she let out a low purring hum.