“Ahiram, the Games are a moment of passing glory for the winner, an honorable commendation for each athlete, and four thrilling days in the vastness of the mines. For you, the Games are a different matter: if you win, you will be set free, but if you lose, you will remain a slave for as long as you live.”
“Commander Tanios…” Seeing his master raise his hand, Ahiram stopped.
This exchange had taken place two months ago in a training hall of the Silent.
“You are eighteen now. By ancient, royal edict, I am not at liberty to free you before you are twenty-one. Can’t you wait another three years? You are a Solitary: a rank reached only by Corintus before you, a rank your peers would only dream to reach. Setting you free would honor the kingdom, Ahiram.”
“Is it not possible for the King to make one exception to the rule? I am a Solitary, not an ordinary slave. Can he not free me now?”
Tanios shook his head. “The King may have agreed with me, but Queen Ramel’s opinion prevailed. No exceptions.”
“Why?”
“Her Majesty must have her reasons,” replied the commander. “Still, it is three years living with your friends, enjoying the honor of a Silent. Why bet your life and all you hold dear on these treacherous Games?”
“Commander Tanios, my father used to say that when hunting a shark, we should either kill it or let it go. To cage a shark is sheer cruelty, and I cannot live like a shark in a cage anymore.”
The commander was not convinced. He drew closer to his pupil and started pacing.
“Ahiram, the odds are stacked against you. Since you are a slave, you cannot be part of a team. You must race alone. Furthermore, you will begin your race half an hour after everyone else. You must win all four Games and any contestant can kill you during the race if they so choose, and no one, not even I, can prevent them.”
“Yes, Commander Tanios, I am aware of all the rules of the Games.”
“And you wish to participate, even though no slave before you has come out alive from these Games?” Tanios was pacing.
“Except El-Windiir.”
“He does not count.” Tanios’ pace quickened.
“Why, Master? After all, the odds were stacked against him. He faced the Lords of the Deep and kept them from entering the mines for four days until the Malikuun came and—”
“I know the story. There will be no Malikuun to rescue you.”
“And no Lords of the Deep to attack me.”
“Will you stop arguing with me? Assuming you are able to win all four Games and survive the attacks of the teams, you must know the Temple of Baal will most surely send assassins after you. A slave who wins his freedom through the Games might cause an uprising and break the tenuous hold the Temple has on the kingdom.” He walked back and faced Ahiram. “Giving you permission to enter the Games is sending you to your death, Ahiram. I cannot do it.”
Ahiram winced as if the commander had slapped him. His jaw tightened and his eyes clouded. “Commander,” he said in an altered voice, “I will be dead either way. My temper… it is as if there is a raging fire within me, a power bent on destruction. Despite my training, I can barely control it now. Noraldeen… I cannot bear the thought of what I can do to her, to Jedarc… to everyone. I am like a caged shark about to tear everything to pieces. The Games, Baal and their assassins, all of it: I would rather face the entire army of the Temple than harm Noraldeen or Jedarc.”
The commander’s expression softened immediately. “You have great friends, Ahiram, but you should remember, they are Silent as well. They can defend themselves.”
Before Tanios had finished his sentence, Ahiram’s fists stood a hair away from the commander’s forehead. Tanios felt as if the world had come to a standstill. He was an accomplished athlete, a fearsome warrior whom few would dare face one-on-one. The commander was fast, very fast, and he knew instinctively that Ahiram’s speed was other-worldly. The boy was an amazing fighter, but now with this ability to move almost instantaneously, there was no telling what he was capable of.
“When did you learn to do this?” He asked quietly, “When did you find out you could move this quickly?”
“I cannot do it all the time,” replied Ahiram. He averted the commander’s eyes, “only when my temper flares… and it has been flaring a lot lately and for no obvious reasons.” His shoulders slumped, and he felt suddenly very tired. “I cannot go on like this for much longer. I would rather die in the mines than hurt Noraldeen or Jedarc. You said they are my friends, and you are right, but so is Banimelek. Noraldeen and Jedarc are very different. There is a purity, an innocence, a joy in them that is reassuring, that is… hopeful. I need it, the world needs it. Even if I were at the other end of the world, the thought that there are people like Noraldeen and Jedarc would comfort me. I don’t know how to say it differently, but they are like a shining light that keeps me tethered to the day. I want to see my parents and my sister before I die. I want to stand honorably before my father and tell him I have upheld his name. I want to hold Hoda in my arms one more time. With my temper burning like lava, three years is a long time.” Ahiram raised his head and looked at his commander with a silent supplication in his eyes. Tanios had seen this gaze before. This was the last wish of a man condemned to death.
Ahiram lowered his eyes, assuming once more the posture of a slave. A long moment went by without either man speaking. The Commander sighed. So be it then.
“Fine,” he had whispered, “you have my permission to enter the Games of the Mines.”
Ahiram bowed his head. “Thank you, Commander Tanios. The Silent prevail.” He looked up and saw his master’s back. He saluted him and left the room.
“So, this is your protégé, my dear Tanios.”
Ahiram was brought back abruptly to the Royal Hall. Bahiya and Tanios were facing him. He looked at them and lowered his gaze.
“Yes, this is the fool who dares oppose your daughter.”
Bahiya laughed. Ahiram glanced quickly at both of them. She was radiant, while Tanios was somber.
“Do not worry, dearest. I will tell my daughter to spare his life. He will not be lost to you.”
Ahiram’s temper flashed. He bit his lip and held his fists tightly behind his back. He closed his eyes and saw the high priestess as a raven about to pluck out his eyes. He opened them and snapped at her.
“I do not need anyone’s pity—the Games are mine.”
“Shut your mouth, slave,” said Tanios with fury. He moved forward to slap Ahiram on the mouth, but Bahiya held him back gently.
“Not tonight, dearest. This is the night when even slaves can speak their minds. Besides, his spirit pleases me—that is of course, if he learns to control his temper. For otherwise, he will surely die in the mines.” The pair moved away, leaving Ahiram alone.
Ahiram bit his tongue. Commander Tanios had warned him—on countless occasions—about his temper, “Your temper is your worst enemy. Control it, or it will get the best of you.”
If this were a different night, his temper would have spelled his doom. Disrespecting the high priestess of the Temple of Baal was punishable by death. Ahiram was smart enough to realize that Tanios wanted to slap him to protect him from the priestess. He sighed, went around the dance floor passing behind the King’s throne and stood in front of the display of food. He piled as much food as he could onto a tray, walked toward the door, but stopped when he heard a goblet tumble onto the floor.
“Slave, pick it up.”
Ahiram turned around to look. Prince Olothe stood before him. A goblet lay at his feet, its contents spilled. Ahiram sighed. Ever since his arrival, the prince had not stopped remonstrating his participation in the Games.
“I said, pick it up.” A hand gripped Ahiram’s neck and almost choked him. “Are you deaf, slave? I said, pick it up.”
Ahiram struggled to keep his tray from falling. He said in a faint voice, “Let me put my tray down.” The hand gripping his neck relaxed enough for him to turn around
and put the tray on the table. Oddly, his temper remained subdued, almost indifferent to the prince, as if he did not matter, or maybe because Ahiram was able to handle the prince without the aid of his mysterious temper. Presently, the Silent was tempted to break the prince’s arm. It would be so simple: grab and snap. A clean break of the arm would make him writhe in pain. Breaking the elbow would immobilize him, and may never fully mend. Then, to finish it by shattering the ankle would cause the greatest pain, and more than likely, maim the prince for life. Right now, maiming the prince was very tempting. Yet, he did none of it. He lifted his eyes and in the reflection of a silver bowl of strawberry wine, saw the commander staring at him. Quietly, he knelt down to pick up the goblet, when Olothe suddenly thrust him forward, nearly slamming Ahiram’s head against the floor.
“We would not want to waste such good wine, slave. Lick it.”
In the posture he was in, Ahiram knew that the prince was vulnerable to two types of back kicks. One would paralyze him, the other would kill him. Ahiram was still too young and impetuous to notice that he was being provoked into action and that Olothe was setting him up. A fraction of a second before he struck the prince, the commander spoke.
“That is enough, Prince Olothe, let him go.” The hand tightened around his neck and pushed him further down. Ahiram was struggling to keep his head above the wine.
“Commander Tanios, he dropped the goblet and splashed me with it. Surely, you do not object to him being properly punished.”
“With all due honor to your rank, Prince Olothe, you are overstepping your boundaries. No one is allowed to punish a Silent—even though he is a slave—unless he is willing to stand trial before the Silent’s tribunal.”
“Come now, Commander, I did not mean to ruffle your Silent’s feathers. You do not need to bring in court and judgment. This is the free night, and we are entitled to a little amusement. You can take this slave of yours back now.”
Prince Olothe released Ahiram.
“But if I may, your slave must be reminded of his status.”
Ahiram tensed his muscles instinctively at the slight change of tone in the prince’s voice. When the blow came, it did not take him completely by surprise. He rolled with it, ending up under the table. Luckily, the prince was at an odd angle, and his kick was not as strong as it could have been. Instead of hitting Ahiram directly in the stomach, his blow grazed the arm Ahiram had placed on the floor in order to stand. The prince’s laughter rang loudly in his ears.
“Surely now, my dear Tanios, your men do not mind me teaching your slave good manners, hmm…? After all, it is Baal who taught your lot civility. Without the Temple, your so-called kingdom would be nothing more than a land of ragged savages, hmm…? Well, now, my dear Hiyam, I am sure Commander Tanios will see to it that this slave will not disgrace the evening by his presence. Shall we?”
Ahiram, who was still under the table, saw the group of guests that had formed around the prince quickly disperse. He rubbed his neck. This prince has a grip of steel; I shall remember this the next time we meet. Someone came and knelt by the table. He looked up. It was Tanios.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Pick up your tray and go eat outside and do not come back in. They do not want you here; most athletes are insulted that you are participating in the Games. Prince Olothe wanted to disqualify you. Your self-control saved you tonight. Now remember, the point of the Games for you is to gain your freedom, not to kill anyone. You are a Silent, and a Silent does not take revenge. A Silent wins. Now, go before they come back.”
Ahiram got out from under the table. His tray was still intact, and the chicken was still warm. He hated cold chicken, which is what he usually had, if any. He went outside and followed the bend to the northeastern corner, where he found a quiet and dimly lit spot to sit and eat in peace. The crescent moon shone brightly in the summer night, and the breeze that blew from the valley was warmer than usual.
“Eating alone, I see.”
Noraldeen’s slender silhouette caught him attempting to shove a massive piece of chicken into his mouth. She was staring at him with her usual elusive smile, between a gentle irony and something else he could not pinpoint. Her long, blond hair was held back in a ponytail, and like him, she wore the Silent’s uniform.
“What are you doing here?” he said gruffly.
She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. Ahiram continued eating his chicken, trying to ignore her. She looked at him, exasperated.
“What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?”
“I am not.”
“Do you think you stand a chance of winning these Games? All the Silent know about Prince Olothe. We all know what he had tried to do, and if it were not for Commander Tanios, this petty prince would have been dead by now.” Her voice quivered with contained anger. “Who does he think he is?”
“A prince,” said Ahiram, who was on his third chicken leg.
“Do you think he will spare you in the mines?”
“No.”
“And you think you can win the Games?”
“Yes.” Ahiram concentrated on his chicken. Her questioning annoyed him. He knew what she was getting at.
“I knew you would say that,” she sighed.
He put his chicken down. “Nora, do you think I would have entered the Games if I did not think I could win? ‘The Silent weighs his options and acts prudently.’ Book of Siril, Chapter 7, verse 8.”
She sighed once more. “Ahiram, these Games are rigged, don’t you know? No one from Tanniin is supposed to win them… only the Temple’s team.”
Ahiram’s anger flashed as hot iron. “Since when do we let the scheming of those in power stop us from doing what is right? Besides, I know these mines better than anyone else. I will win these Games.”
“ ‘How many Silent were caught unaware in the silky web of pride?’ Chapter 11, verse 3, of the Book of Lamentation.”
“ ‘O, Silent, take courage for the darkness will most assuredly be broken by your hope.’ Book of Siril Chapter 2, verse 12.”
There was a moment of silence during which the only sound that was heard was Ahiram chewing his chicken.
“Is the chicken good?” asked Noraldeen with sadness in her voice.
Ahiram looked at her once more. He put his food down and started laughing, he got up, stretched, and walked to the parapet. He looked into the valley plunged in darkness. Now and then a wolf or an owl would cry as though bemoaning Ahiram’s imminent fate. She joined him.
“Noraldeen, you are one of my best friends, you know that. Yet, you also know that between you and me, there is an insurmountable chasm. I am a slave and you are a free woman. You are also the daughter of Lord Orgond, the most respected and most beloved man of the kingdom. If it were not for your rank, you would be flogged for talking to a slave after hours.”
“Do you have to bring up the subject of slavery every time we get together?”
“No more than a man in prison would talk of freedom.”
She moved closer to him, her hand almost touching his. “But there are other ways…”
He looked at her straight in the eyes. “Of regaining my freedom? Really? How?”
“Well,” she started hesitantly, “I could ransom you.”
“No, you cannot, and you know it,” answered Ahiram with a smile, “You can pay only for the freedom of a slave born into your household. The rule is very clear.”
“Well, then, I could take you as my slave and treat you like a prince.”
Ahiram contained himself. As a slave, he had had the opportunity to do this often. Then, remembering his brooding temper, his features softened. I wish my hatred of slavery was my only problem. Oh Noraldeen, if you only knew… He smiled. “Noraldeen, even if I could live the rest of my life as a slave—and you know I can’t since I was taken away from my parents—I want to go back and tell them I am alive. I have an idea,” he said excitedly. “What if, after I win the Games, and I am
set free by the King, you, Jedarc, Banimelek, and I travel back to Baher-Ghafé? You would be able to see the emerald sea and the white mountains, and meet Hoda. You two would get along so well—in fact, come to think of it, you are so much alike. Jedarc would have all the chicken in the world to chase after and Banimelek plenty of tall trees to stand under and brood properly. Wouldn’t that be great?”
Noraldeen was dumfounded. In the six years she had known Ahiram, he had never spoken so many words in such a short period. Seeing him animated and smiling with dreamy eyes was wonderful, and she would have loved to share his excitement and hope.
“My childhood was spent on the sea,” he continued. “I grew up with free men, Nora; noble men who gave their word and lived by it. The life of a slave chokes me. I can’t live like this.”
Noraldeen looked at Ahiram as he gazed at the valley below. She could clearly see the three small, dark circles at the base of his neck. He had once told her that these were birthmarks. When she had asked him for an explanation, he had said that his mother craved melons while pregnant with him, but it was the middle of winter, and none were available. As a result of her unfulfilled craving, he ended up with three small melons on his neck. He had made her laugh so hard with his melon story. And on that beautiful day when Tanios had taken all the Silent apprentices for a military exercise in the mountains, Noraldeen had told Ahiram that the melons made him absolutely unique. Back then, he had looked away silently.
Noraldeen smiled. Just now, Ahiram had looked away.
Noraldeen was beautiful and sharp, perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Everyone in the Silent Corps knew she was destined for a princely love. Already, many contenders had knocked at her father’s door, only to be told that it was too soon. Ahiram cared deeply for her, more than he was willing to admit, but something tugged at him, pulling him away.
Ever since he had joined the Silent, his goal had been to regain his freedom and return home. This single-minded focus, coupled with an almost compulsive drive to perfection and an exceptionally athletic constitution, allowed him to move up quickly in the ranks of the Silent, until he became a Solitary—one who is sent alone on the most dangerous missions.
Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) Page 11