Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1)

by Michael Joseph Murano

  “It must be serious then,” said Master Habael.

  “If I cannot trust the slaves, servants, soldiers, and Silent to do what is required—whether small or great—how can I be certain of the King’s safety?” asked Tanios pointedly. “Cleaning is not just about cleaning—it is about security. A slave who cleans this area regularly can tell immediately when something is out of place. I count on them to keep the Silent and myself informed of any change, however subtle, however insignificant. This smudge on the floor should not be here, and I was not alerted.”

  Master Habael eyed the commander and refrained from any comment. After all, he was not in charge of the King’s security.

  Tanios sighed. “Let us be on our way. I shall deal with this after we have spoken to the Queen.” Their steps echoed in the vast hall while a shadow—barely visible—moved with unnatural speed toward the Lone Tower. Shortly after, Banimelek and Jedarc came walking with Zumbra, Alviad, and Sheheluth.

  “Don’t worry, Your Highness,” said Sheheluth, addressing Jedarc, “I don’t mind plucking chickens.”

  “Will you stop giving me the ‘Highness’ thing? You should call me Jedarc, and that’s all.”

  “But I thought you were a real prince,” interjected Zumbra, who like Sheheluth, was in his first year of training as a Silent.

  “We call him such,” growled Alviad, “because his pinkish sensitive hands have never plucked a chicken before.”

  Jedarc sighed. “Don’t listen to Alviad,” he told the two novices. “He is as strong as an ox, but slower than a petrified slug.”

  Alviad shrugged his shoulders. “Just because you can run with the wind does not mean I’m slow,” he muttered.

  “Cut it out you two,” snapped Banimelek. “Jedarc, I cannot believe it. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet? What will it take before you learn that you cannot deflect a well-deserved punishment?”

  “That’s true,” said Alviad, grinning. “I had nearly forgotten the bunch of coriander in the second training room.”

  “Why? What happened?” asked Zumbra.

  “Don’t listen to them,” Jedarc cut in. “They exaggerate everything.”

  “Really?” asked Banimelek mockingly. “Let me see…who was it now? Was it you, Alviad, or was it Parito?”

  “No,” Alviad corrected. “Silvanly. Parito was sick that day.”

  “That’s right,” confirmed Banimelek, “Silvanly was in his first year, like the two of you, and we were in our third. Silvanly had promised Master Habael a bunch of coriander from the garden. He’s always been interested in all things botanical.”

  “Yes, so he had gone out,” continued Alviad, “to the garden and stared at some plant—I don’t recall now what it was. He was so engrossed by what he was seeing that he lost track of time, so when he heard the whistle calling for our morning meeting, he panicked and ran up to the second floor with the coriander bunch and nearly collided with the commander.”

  “So, he stood there,” Banimelek added, “like a young man with a bouquet of flowers. He stood there,” stuttered Banimelek, who was trying hard not to laugh, “like a frozen statue before the commander and then he said—”

  “ ‘I surrender,’ ” guffawed Alviad, his massive frame shaking under the strain. “ ‘I surrender,’ he said.”

  Jedarc, who had been sulking, joined in, “Yeah, that was funny.”

  “Then Jedarc walked in—” continued Alviad.

  “Late as usual,” slipped in Banimelek

  “…he looked at the scene and said with a straight face, ‘Commander Tanios, what a great idea. Chicken stuffed with coriander and cheese is delicious. When do we eat?’ ”

  Sheheluth and Zumbra gasped.

  “What happened next?” asked Zumbra.

  “Well, Silvanly had to learn to pluck coriander one stem at a time, with a dart, and Jedarc was assigned to kitchen duty for three months.”

  “That was not funny,” grumbled Jedarc, involuntarily rubbing his stomach. “Working in the kitchen when you’re allowed to eat only dried meat, bread, and steamed vegetables is tough.”

  They had reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Don’t fret, Sheheluth,” said Banimelek gently, “every Silent gets kitchen duty at one point or another. We all get punished for these trifles. But the commander usually assigns punishments to help us grow strong. You’ll see. You’ll thank him for this assignment later.” Havind said that, Jedarc and Banimelek took leave from their companions.

  “Sheheluth," Alviad explained, "you'll run with the first shift until the second afternoon gong, and I'll be your backup. Before supper, Zumbra will take over so you can go to the kitchen.”

  “But then you will have to be his backup,” protested Sheheluth.

  “Don’t worry,” said Alviad, raising his large hand. “I’m used to it. Then I’ll cover the night shift, and you will be my backup.”

  “Why are we here?” asked Zumbra, “What are we looking for?”

  “This is nothing you haven’t done before,” reassured Alviad, smiling. He pushed the heavy, curly locks from his face, but they stubbornly fell back in place, forming a thick curtain over his forehead partially hiding his eyes. “You stalk the corridor the way you’ve been trained to do: silently and invisibly. If you see or hear anything suspect, you alert your backup. Chances are nothing will happen, and it will be yet another boring day. Any questions?”

  “Alviad,” said Sheheluth timidly. “Banimelek said everyone has to do kitchen duties, so did Ahiram do kitchen duties?”

  “Ahiram? Are you kidding? He practically lived in the kitchen. He’s got a temper of a locked-up dragon and got punished more than the rest of us combined.”

  Hearing this, Sheheluth’s spirits lifted, and she straightened her posture.

  “Don’t worry, Sheheluth,” said Zumbra, “you’ll do just fine.”

  “Zumbra, go get some rest while you can, and Sheheluth, I’ll be practicing in the empty dining area over there. If you see or hear anything suspicious, come get me at once.”

  Moments later, a soldiers’ patrol walked into the corridor and passed noisily by a stone pedestal holding a large, marble flower pot. The soldiers saw three slim dragons holding the pedestal and failed to realize there was one too many. Sheheluth smiled beneath her cloak. It’s true, she thought, proudly, We Silent can be undetectable if we choose to be. Then she thought of the crimes of the past two days and shuddered. We’re not the only ones who can be invisible; the murderer may be in the castle, may even be in this corridor, unseen.

  “Taniir-The-Strong lives in the shadow of Taniir-On-High, like a man living in the shadow of his mother-in-law. She may not speak much, nor complain, but he knows she’s always watching him. Unless you know she’s there and you know what she’s up to, you’ll misunderstand why the man acts and behaves the way he does. Study, study, I say! Castles have their mysteries, but in the end, it’s all about a man and his mother-in-law.”

  –Soliloquy of Zuzu the Hip, Jester of the Royal Court of Tanniin

  “Taniir-The-Strong is the visible part of a castle hewn out of the mountain’s heart. Its visible walls are but a small fraction of its walls within. We dwarfs never distinguished between the castle and the mines—they are one and the same.”

  –Philology of the Dwarfs, Anonymous

  The Queen was in a good mood when she received Tanios and Master Habael. The commander noticed her flushed cheeks and wondered if she had come back from a strenuous walk. They do enhance the beauty of her deep, black eyes, thought the commander, and I do wonder what could eyes such as these do to the hearts of men. He shuddered inwardly, as though warned by a mysterious instinct to keep his distance from her. She wore a long, golden dress hemmed with fine red silk thread. Her hair was tied in a tight braid and hung down her back. Ramel was without her crown.

  Then again, thought Tanios, Her Majesty is not known to obey the royal protocol of dress and deportment.

  “Commander Tanios, my dear Ha
bael, what a pleasure to see both of you on this bright sunny morning.”

  “Your Majesty does us much honor,” replied Tanios.

  “And it is well deserved. What, may I ask, brings you to these forlorn quarters of the castle?”

  “Surely, Her Majesty is aware of the two unfortunate events that have disgraced the walls of this august castle,” answered Tanios. “It has occurred to Master Habael that these actions may be connected to an old prophecy concerning four drops of blood. Is Your Majesty acquainted with this prophecy?”

  “I am,” replied Queen Ramel, who, by now, had seated herself on a raised rosewood chair studded with silver pins and cushioned with purple damascened pillows. She bid her guests to stand before her. “Continue, Commander Tanios, please.”

  “If it is so, then the first two murders are located directly above two of the four corners of some secret chamber. Without further information, we cannot proceed. We do not know why this alleged room is important or where it lies. Master Habael thought perhaps the history of Taniir-the-Strong may shed some light on this sordid matter. I should like for him to explain to Her Majesty what he has in mind.”

  Habael bowed before the Queen and continued. “Ever since Your Majesty has graced these walls with your presence, we have all been delighted to see Your Majesty take to heart the affairs of the kingdom. It is common knowledge that Your Majesty has a keen interest in the history of Taniir-The-Strong and of Taniir-On-High, and your knowledge of this subject is unmatched in the entire kingdom. We thought that perhaps Your Majesty may be so kind as to share with us the reasons that led El-Windiir III to leave Taniir-On-High, and why he chose to build Taniir-The-Strong on this side of the mountain.”

  The Queen looked at the two men for a moment and smiled. She stood up and went toward a window that overlooked the beautiful interior garden of the castle. She remained motionless, collecting her thoughts, then turned to lean against the windowsill.

  “As you know, gentlemen, I came to you from the fair land of Babylon, where the highest and deepest mysteries lie within the Supreme Temple of Marduc, or Baal, his more familiar name. Taniir-The-Strong, though magnificent in its design and architecture, seemed like a peasant’s hole to my eyes when I first arrived here, and soon I felt the desire to widen my horizons, to seek and explore the surroundings. Rapidly, this proved enchanting and the majestic beauty of this mountain attracted me. Then one day, I found my way to the top where I spent countless hours exploring the ruins of Taniir-On-High. This you have knowledge of, my dear Tanios—through your faithful Silent—and I am grateful to you for not intervening, despite the fact that these ruins are forbidden ground.”

  “You are our Queen,” answered Tanios with a smile. His answer did not conceal his disapproval of her behavior, and if she understood the underlying reproach, she did not show it.

  “I explored the ruins and they fascinated me. The account I received from the shepherds and local peasants I met was fragmentary and disappointing. Yet, bit-by-bit, I pieced together what I believe is the history of Taniir-On-High. Masters Garu and Ibromaliöm proved to be invaluable aids. The breadth of their knowledge is truly astounding.

  “As you already know, El-Windiir built Taniir-On-High after the victory of the Malikuun. The size of its ruins tells us it was a formidable fortress; the greatest perhaps, save for Bashan-Sulmaron in Marduc. Her builders must have studied under Babylonian masters, for the analogy between Taniir-On-High and Bashan-Sulmaron is striking. Anyway, it must have been impregnable. No assault could have penetrated her defenses.”

  “So why does it lie in ruin?” asked Tanios with a tone of voice that betrayed his emotions. Like many of his kinsmen, he considered the ruins of Taniir-On-High as a personal wound.

  “Because it fell under a curse, a terrible curse,” replied the Queen.

  “From Baal?” asked Tanios prudently.

  Queen Ramel looked at him and smiled. “No, my dear Tanios, I know your feelings, or rather your ill feelings, toward the great god Baal, and though I respect them, I do not share them. In this case, however, Baal had nothing to do with it, El-Windiir himself imposed the curse.” She raised her hand to prevent any interruption on the part of Tanios. Habael, who was standing behind Tanios, smiled. None of what the Queen said so far succeeded in eliciting a reaction from him. It was as though he had heard it all before.

  Queen Ramel continued. “The songs that the shepherds and peasants of the highlands sing contain fragments of the truth behind the legend. Listening to their songs, I was struck by the similarities between the lyrics. It occurred to me that what the shepherds sang was possibly a missing fragment of another song the peasants were singing. Both shepherds and peasants attribute their song to El-Windiir, even though these two groups do not speak much to each other. I asked Garu to piece it together for me, and I believe that he came up with a plausible version. It goes like this:

  “How shall I describe you, O beauty of my eyes,

  You, whose abode is far above the skies?

  Could a broken man describe perfection,

  Can I, whom you loved, speak well about love?

  Thrice have I risen higher on high,

  Thrice have I ridden the winds and the storm,

  Thrice have I beheld the height of the world.

  Once did I love and love brought me low.

  Since, long have I pursued you, O lovely of my soul,

  Long have you hounded me and have made me whole.

  You brought me beyond the reach of mortals,

  Through gates resplendent and mighty portals.

  To you, I give what I may not have taken,

  By my life I swore that none would open

  What unspeakable splendor has closed,

  And none shall close what my love has opened.

  O wisdom, standing by the river,

  O beauty, beyond compare,

  O lovely of the light deliver

  My spirit from despair.

  Only one may utter what mortals may not

  beware…”

  The Queen stopped and looked at Tanios smiling. “It is a pity that we do not have the rest, is it not, Commander Tanios?”

  “A pity indeed,” replied the commander, breathing deeply to clear his mind. The deep, velvety voice of the Queen had entranced him, and for a short moment, he felt transported into another world.

  Tanios managed to speak. “According to this poem, El-Windiir had sworn a door would be shut that no one could open, except one who would utter what mortals may not. Is this the curse?”

  “I believe it is. Let me tell you more about Taniir-On-High. Until I climbed this mountain, I had little respect for El-Windiir and what he did when he fought against Baal. The Priests of Baal teach that he fought with the Malikuun, but later fell in disgrace and served the Pit. I was convinced that he was a tyrant, vain and surfeit, who would have brought back the chaos from which Baal had freed us,” she said.

  Ramel whirled around and looked through the window toward the mountain. Her voice altered and became almost a whisper. “When you go up the mountain, following the old trail that is still visible, you begin to understand why he wanted to fly. The view is breathtaking. I come from a plain, and I had never beheld the world from the height of a mountain before. Standing up there, your feet in the clouds, you feel the exhilaration that he must have felt, and I confess, I wished I had wings to fly like El-Windiir.

  “But this desire of flying is not the only reason why I changed my opinion of the founder of your kingdom, my dear Commander. The sheer size of these ruins and the delicate carvings on the walls made me realize the beauty of this place. It must have been of colossal proportions, yet elegant and majestic. The castle must have sprung from the mountaintop like an eagle in flight: a masterpiece.

  “I was astounded by what this man, once a slave, ignorant and unskilled, managed to accomplish. I could see the able hands of the dwarfs all over the ruins, but still, beauty comes from a vision, from something beyond. It
comes from the heart and soul of an architect who knew how to build an impregnable castle wrapped in beauty and majesty never seen before. The castle should have stood the test of time. We should have been standing up there now. Yet, it is now desolate: a heap of ruins. Why? What misfortune befell it?”

  The Queen fell silent and the men waited.

  Tanios looked at King Jamir’s wife as if he were seeing her for the first time. He was impressed by her perspicacity and analytical mind. I have underestimated you, my Queen, he thought, I can see this now. I wonder, to what lengths, will you go to fulfill a dream? His heart grew suddenly heavy

  “According to tradition,” the Queen continued, “a mighty beast rose from the bowels of the earth under El-Windiir XIII. The King fought it and that led him to insanity. His son, Namiir IV, continued the battle, became blind and died mad. With him, the lineage of El-Windiir ended. The brother-in-law of Namiir styled himself King Dilandiir I, abandoned Taniir-On-High and began building Taniir-The-Strong.”

  “Unlike Garu, Ibromaliöm does not doubt the existence of the beast, but he believes El-Windiir XIII did not become mad fighting the beast; he believes the king became mad because of the curse which brought the beast.”

  “I do not understand,” said Tanios.

  “You asked me what this curse was. Well, according to Ibromaliöm, El-Windiir established a curse against anyone who would open what he had shut. His unfortunate descendant, El-Windiir XIII, brought upon himself this curse by attempting to open what he should have left closed. The curse had a direct effect on him because he died insane and so did his son. With the death of Namiir, the entire lineage of El-Windiir ended. According to Ibromaliöm, the beast is the physical manifestation of this curse, preventing anyone entry inside the closed room.”

  “What might that be?” asked Tanios, intrigued.