He still had time. If he had to, he would rescue the boy on his own, though he wasn’t sure what he would do with him when he had.
Kyra had spotted someone stealthily approaching a few hundred yards to his left. He warned her not to interfere, but she closed herself off to him. He listened carefully, sniffing the air. There was no scent. Whoever it was had been wise enough to approach upwind, and was moving with great care.
Knowing that Kyra would be on the newcomer in moments if he did not act, he jumped down from the camel and headed rapidly toward whoever was approaching.
“I’m here for Dabo!” he shouted.
A man in leather armor raised himself up from behind a dip in the sand, sword in hand. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“Akiri,” he replied.
The man paused. “And how do I know you are who you say?”
Akiri was about to respond when Kyra thudded to the sands a few feet in front of the man. He jumped back, tripping over his own feet and landing hard.
“Please,” he shouted. “I believe you. Call off your beast.”
Kyra crept forward hissing and snarling, but did not attack. Akiri smiled to himself. She did so enjoy making a show of it.
“She will not harm you,” he assured. “Now take me to Dabo. He’s expecting me.”
The man waited until Kyra had taken flight once again before rising. He approached Akiri, brushing the sand from his clothes. “It was foolish to ride openly, outlander. You might have been seen.”
“How else was I to find you?”
Having no reply to this, he pointed off to the east. “The rest of us are a mile that way. I’ll take care of your mount.”
Akiri found Dabo and his men gathered at the base of a dune. There were roughly twenty of them in all, though most did not have the look of a warrior about them and several were clearly too old to be of much use in a battle.
Dabo simply nodded as he approached. Akiri gestured for him to follow, motioning to a spot a few yards away, well out of earshot.
Once there, Dabo spoke first. “You found your dragon?”
“I did,” Akiri replied. “And from the look of this lot, you should be grateful. Your people are nothing but fodder for enemy steel. How many of them can actually wield a blade?”
“They can fight,” he insisted. “And they are more than willing to die.”
“That is good. Because most likely, they will. If the Rahaji is there, he will not have come unprotected.”
“He’s there,” Dabo confirmed. “He arrived early this morning.”
“How many soldiers?”
“Twenty at least. Perhaps more. And at least that many of Hajazar’s followers as well. About a dozen guard the entrance to the temple, and the rest are inside.”
Akiri regarded the gathered men with disdain once again. “Do you have a plan?”
“That depends on you, outlander. We had thought to rush the entrance and take the soldiers by surprise. We hoped that would give us a slight advantage.”
“Do you know the temple well?”
“Well enough.”
Dabo spent the next half hour explaining the layout and approach, drawing the details in the sand. Akiri listened carefully, weighing his assets against their obvious disadvantages.
“I can get us inside,” said Akiri. “But I cannot guarantee your men will survive. If there are any whose courage you doubt, send them away.”
“You just worry about your own courage,” Dabo snapped back.
Akiri rose to his feet and started toward the others. “Then we move at nightfall. If you and your men pray to the gods, this would be a good time.”
“Now I will ask you the same question that you asked me,” called Dabo. “Do you have a plan?”
Akiri did not break stride as he replied. “Yes. We kill them all.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kyra burned with fury as she circled above the valley. Dragon slavers.
The words repeated themselves in Akiri’s mind. Her anger was stoking his own. He had no way of explaining that the people they were about to attack were not the same as the Suldan. Her mind was still fixated on what had happened to her while in captivity. Though intelligent, she did not reason in the same way humans did. But that did not matter very much for the task at hand. She would do what they had come to do, and she would revel in killing those she deemed evil.
Dabo and his men were to approach from the opposite end of the valley and wait until they heard Akiri’s signal before moving in. When Dabo had asked what the signal would be, Akiri had simply smiled and said, “There will be no mistaking it.”
As he descended into the valley, the air became cold and still. It felt as if the temples lining the broad avenues were following his every move with invisible eyes. Were they really watching him? he wondered. Or was it just his imagination? It would not surprise him either way. Since arriving in this land, he had been beset by all the things he detested – especially the meddling of the gods. But where could he go to be free of them? Was there such a place? It seemed unlikely.
Torchlight glowing from around the corner ahead snapped him into the moment. The moon was not yet in position, though it would not be too long before it offered its light. He would not allow Rashid to die. He opened himself to Kyra’s rage, letting it fill him, adding it to his own. The sword in his hand felt unbalanced compared to his father’s, but it would do its job well enough.
Ducking behind a broken pillar, he spotted two men standing watch on the road a few yards up from the Temple of Hajazar itself. Judging from their postures, they were expecting trouble. The Vizier would undoubtedly be expecting a rescue attempt, and would have taken measures to prevent one. What he would not have anticipated was having to deal with Akiri. Or Kyra. Once he learned of Akiri’s escape, he would almost certainly have assumed that his prisoner had fled as far away as possible. After all, he saw Akiri as a sell-sword, and such men were not well known for their courage or loyalty.
In complete silence, he kept to the shadows and crossed the road to hide behind a pile of rubble. From this position, he had an excellent view of the entrance to the Temple. Another dozen men were standing at the base of the steps leading inside. The moment he struck the first two, the rest would be alerted to his presence and move in. But they would not get the chance. Their fate was sealed.
He eased in closer, using cover with masterful skill and agility. The soldier nearest to him was clutching anxiously at a long spear. The second, only a few feet further away, had a heavy battle axe gripped in both hands.
He sent a signal to Kyra through their connection and immediately felt her anticipation surge as she went into a hard dive. It was time. Leaping from the darkness, he removed the head of the spear bearer with one swift stroke. The second soldier turned, quickly bringing his axe up defensively and sliding his feet away from his stricken comrade. The move was made without thought – the result of extensive training.
Akiri pressed in, letting loose a flurry of precise strikes. The heavier weapon deflected them at first, but his opponent simply could not gain a position to counter. Inevitably, Akiri’s steel soon found flesh as he opened up the man’s chest, and then spun and rammed the sword through his neck.
The skirmish quickly attracted the attention of the men near the entrance, but they had no time to join in. With a shrieking cry, Kyra descended upon a soldier in the center of the group. Strengthened by their combined battle lust, Akiri raced toward her. It took him only seconds to get there, but by then she had already ripped two men to pieces and was stalking a third. The other guards had scattered wide, though they now seemed to be regaining some of their composure. Unfortunately for them, the dragon’s sudden arrival had made them forget about Akiri entirely. He felled three before they even knew he was upon them. Just before dealing with another, he glanced across to see a soldier rushing up behind Kyra, who had just spat the head of a foe from her maw. A chill briefly stabbed into him, though he need not have worried.
Kyra was well aware of the danger and whipped her tail hard across, snapping her attacker’s knees. Then came a sharp lesson for Akiri himself. Keeping his attention too tightly on Kyra nearly saw him gutted as the soldier he had been intending to attack next lunged in. Silently reprimanding himself, he twisted hard and sank the tip of his sword into the man’s ribcage.
The five remaining guards gathered into a tight defensive line. Akiri couldn’t help but be impressed with their discipline. After the initial slaughter, lesser men would have fled. Now it would not be easy to break through and separate them on his own. But shouts from behind told him that this would not be necessary, as Dabo and his band came charging down the avenue. Akiri turned toward the steps. He would leave them to deal with the rest of the guards. Kyra tried to follow him inside the temple, but he stopped her.
“Stay here,” he said, firmly. “See that none survive.”
She glared at him defiantly.
Akiri sighed. In the open, Kyra had a marked advantage; she could take flight and maneuver her lengthy body in any way she wished. But in the close quarters of the temple corridors, she would be vulnerable. Already two of Dabo’s men had been killed in their initial clash with the soldiers. Akiri pointed in their direction. “You see? Dabo’s men are not warriors. I need you at my back should they fail.”
Kyra snorted and growled with displeasure, but seemed to accept what he had said.
Dabo broke away from the fight to join with Akiri. “We must get inside,” he pressed.
Akiri nodded, and together they bolted up the stairs. He glanced back quickly just once to see Kyra bounding toward the soldiers – who, though down to three in number with two more having fallen to Dabo’s men, had by now slain several of their adversaries.
They passed through the massive doors at the top of the stairs and raced on into a large chamber, where stone braziers and a circular fire pit gave an ominous glow to dozens of skeletal remains of past victims hanging by chains from the ceiling. Ahead of them stood an altar with a figurine of Hajazar placed at its base.
“This is only the public shrine,” Dabo said. His voice echoed eerily through the chamber. “The rite will be held in a private altar further in.”
Akiri examined the entire room. Experience told him that places such as this could be fraught with unexpected dangers. Outside, the battle raged on, but feeling Kyra’s elation eased his mind. It meant she was unharmed.
They crossed to the altar, with Dabo pausing to spit on the figurine as they passed. From a distance, the wall behind had looked uniform. But when just a few feet away, Akiri could spot a narrow gap. The wall further in was perfectly matched to camouflage its existence. He had seen this trick before, but never so masterfully created. Fooling his trained eye was no small feat.
After squeezing through the opening, they found themselves in a dim corridor that split into two directions every few dozen yards. Nonetheless, Dabo led the way confidently. The torches fixed in the sconces were old and had been used many times, and the floor, though worn, was virtually free of dust. This place was clearly visited frequently. The blood of Rath’s citizens had flowed within these walls many times.
They came to an oval antechamber. Macabre murals on the walls depicted terrifying scenes of suffering and death. Standing tall amongst the images of carnage was Hajazar clad in a suit of gleaming golden armor, a key in one hand and a sword in the other. Specters of the dead were gathered around his feet, all of them begging for his aid.
Hushed voices could be heard from behind a thick oak door at the far end. Dabo stopped and closed his eyes.
“What is it?” whispered Akiri.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I’m fine.”
After cracking open the door just a fraction, Dabo peered through and waved for Akiri to follow him, and then both eased their way inside.
Akiri found himself on the very top tier of an amphitheater. The seats below were mostly empty, with only the bottom row occupied by the twenty or so devotees. Further away, soldiers were stretched out in a single line facing a high dais. Each held a long spear and stood rigidly to attention. An altar identical to the one they had seen when first entering the temple, though without the figurine, was positioned at the center of the dais. Behind this stood a man in a red and black robe with the hood thrown back to reveal dark hair and sharp angular features. Upon his brow rested a gold crown beset with rubies and emeralds. Akiri guessed that this must be the Rahaji…Dabo’s brother. It occurred to him at that moment perhaps Dabo would be unable to kill his own flesh and blood. It was one thing to plan such a deed; another entirely to go through with it.
Looking up, Akiri saw that a large oculus had been hewn into the ceiling. Set in the center of the glass window suspended immediately below this was a large crystal that captured the moonlight perfectly, throwing down a narrow beam of light directly onto the dais. The beam crept ever closer to the altar.
At the rear of the dais was an open doorway, beyond which Akiri could see shadows moving about. This was where they must be holding Rashid.
Still keeping low, the pair made their way to the right-hand side of the theater. Here, a stairway descended all the way to the bottom row, while an opening halfway down led to another set of stairs. Where they were currently positioned offered the cover of shadows, but light from the torches surrounding the dais would expose them if they moved any more than a few feet closer.
Akiri kept watch on the advancing circle of moonlight, which was now almost touching the base of the altar. He gestured for Dabo to stay put. There was a protruding balcony situated above and to the left of the opening, and the walls leading up to it were quite heavily notched and pitted. He tested the stone with his fingers. It held. He traced a path along the wall in his mind, looking at the deep cracks and fissures in the broken brickwork. It would be difficult, but not impossible.
Reaching up, he gripped a tiny indention. It took all his strength to pull himself up the first few feet using only his fingertips. Higher on the wall, the holds became more manageable. Once level with the balcony, he eased across until he was just over a yard away from the side. Dabo watched him intently.
So far, so good, Akiri thought. The man at the altar was staring vacantly downward as if mentally preparing himself for what was to come, while the devotees’ attention remained fixed firmly on the doorway at the back of the dais. He shifted his weight to dig the toe of his boot into a narrow crack. As he did so, the deep ringing of a mighty bell suddenly sounded, the repeated explosions of noise filling the room and resonating so loudly that they began to ripple through the walls. He felt himself losing his grip as his booted foot scraped away part of his toehold.
Knowing he had to act immediately, Akiri heaved himself over in a lunge for the balcony handrail. It was a massive gamble. The moment he released his hold on the wall, he felt his foot slipping, which sent a shower of debris falling. Stretching out as far as he possibly could, the fingertips of his left hand just reached the lip of the railing. But it was a fleeting contact with no opportunity of gaining a grip, certainly not enough to stop his fall. Just in time, he gripped the bottom edge of the balcony floor with his other hand. This stopped his descent but left him exposed, dangling in plain sight if anyone were to turn and look in his direction. Reacting quickly, Akiri reinforced his grip with his left hand and then threw his legs to the wall, using this purchase to help push himself higher. Little by little, he raised himself up until he was able to grab hold of the balustrade.
Almost the moment after he had pulled himself completely onto the balcony, the devotees began chanting rhythmically. Akiri did not recognize the words, but thought they sounded similar to the ancient language of the Northern mountains, where some people still worshiped the old gods openly.
Lying flat, he peered down and saw that the shaft of moonlight had now advanced to the edge of the altar. As if this were a signal, a figure appeared from the rear doorway. It was the Vizier, wearing an identical robe to the Rahaji, but wi
th a black circlet resting upon his brow. Alongside him and holding his hand was Lord Rashid.
In contrast to the others, the boy wore a white shirt and trousers together with a crown of white flowers. His expression was calm, and he made no effort to pull away from the Vizier’s hold. Drugged, thought Akiri, as Rashid calmly climbed up onto the altar. Once he was lying in position, the Vizier smiled down at him with an almost tender look. He then turned to the Rahaji and nodded.
With the ray of light already touching Rashid’s sleeve, Akiri rapidly considered his next move. Securing the boy would obviously be the first priority, but keeping him safe would mean getting him out quickly, before the soldiers had time to react.
The Vizier stepped in front of the altar and wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. Almost at once, gray smoke began rising from the top of his head and shoulders. Then, in a swirl of light, his appearance was transformed. He was suddenly a full foot taller, with deep blue-colored flesh and great bat-like wings. Three short horns protruded from his brow, and below these his eyes shone unnaturally bright, like twin candles. Where his hands had been were now vicious-looking talons. Any illusion of humanity had been well and truly shattered.
The crowd burst into frenzied shouts of worship and adoration. The Vizier smiled through a set of inch-long fangs, and spreading his thin yet sinewy arms wide, he spoke in a rich and fatherly tone.
“Quiet, my children. Be still.”
The crowd settled, and one by one they dropped to their knees.
“The time has come at long last,” he continued. “Kalmar the Great, Rahaji of all Yagash, son to the old gods and brother to their keepers, shall take his rightful place amongst our ranks. In moments, the light from the Shen Yazir Moon will illuminate the path of blood, and through royal sacrifice, our Lord will be made whole. No longer will we be forced to hide in the shadows. We shall bend the world to our will, so that it may serve our great and terrible master. We will bathe in the blood of those who deny the true path and refuse to accept the way to life everlasting. Their corpses will serve as the herald to the fall of the pretenders. And we, my children, will watch from paradise as Mishna is ground to dust beneath the boots of the righteous.”
Akiri: Sands Of Darkness Page 16