Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) (17 page)

Read Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) Online

Authors: Michael Joseph Murano

BOOK: Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1)
13.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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.

Noraldeen knew how powerful his thirst for freedom was. She was aware of the deep wound he carried and wished she could take his pain from him. Her love for Ahiram had grown imperceptibly over the past six years. Their shared life gave her ample opportunities to discover his strength
and
his broken heart. As their relationship matured and her love blossomed, she intuitively realized that her inner strength exceeded his. His physical prowess was astounding, equal to his temper in intensity; and his temper was the scream of rage hiding his fear and pain. He was a Silent, screaming “never again”; she was a Silent, singing “I love you more,” and she hoped her singing would allay his fears and heal his heart.
Once your heart is healed, my love
, she thought,
you will shine like the stars.

A veil of sadness fell over her eyes. The life they had shared was passing away. Soon, he would be gone. The yearning for his parents that compelled him to regain his freedom called him home; and this desire was his driving force, his strength, and the sole purpose of his life—a life she so ardently desired to share.

“You know we could help you in the mines.”

“Don’t even think about it. I do not want you in harm’s way, no matter what,” he said, alarmed.

“Are you afraid for me?” she asked, looking at him with that sincere smile that melted his heart. “Look at me, Ahiram… you are afraid for me, are you not?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied tearing himself from her gaze. He turned his back to the valley and looked up. “I care for you more than I care for life itself,” he said softly. “You know that.”

“But you do not care enough to be in love with me,” she replied, frowning. “Why is that? Sometimes I feel you treat me like your sister.”

Ahiram lowered his gaze.

She looked at him, sorrow mingled with joy. “Your sister? You love me like your sister?” She slapped him on the chest. “I cannot believe this. I love you and you think of me as a sister?”

He raised his eyes and looked at her. “When you are a slave and an orphan in a foreign land, the love of a sister is the warmth of a hearth, the sun in the sky, the tender presence that cares about you, Nora. Do not belittle my love for you; it is all I have.”

Instantly, her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh no, don’t do that now. You will cry, and I will lose my appetite; and this is the one night when I get to eat warm, delicious food.”

She wiped her tears and laughed. He caught her by the shoulders and held her against him.

“Nora, I am telling you, I will win these Games. Don’t worry.”

She gazed at him lovingly as tears streamed down her cheeks. He felt guilty, not really knowing why, but whenever Noraldeen cried, he felt as though his heart was being torn apart. He wiped her tears.

“Don’t cry, Nora, please don’t.”

“I have come to say good-bye.”

“You are leaving?” Suddenly, loneliness fell on him like a thick blanket. A feeling of foreboding rose in his soul. “Why? Why do you have to go?”

“My father is calling me back. He has a suitor for me…”

Ahiram looked at her. “A prince, I suppose?”

“Yes, the son of a very powerful king. Apparently,” she added in hushed voice, “an alliance is being forged against the Temple.”

“What did you say to your father”

She looked at him and smiled, “My father will not marry me off against my consent.”

“But what if this prince can provide you with a good life?” asked Ahiram, “It…”

“I don’t want a pampered life in some palace far away, Ahiram, and you know that.” She replied softly with sorrow in her eyes. “The prince is enchanting, and he will make a good husband, but I already told my father I will not marry him.”

“So why do you have to leave then?”

She sighed. “No need to provoke the king whom my father is trying to forge an alliance with. I must think it over, I was told. So I will go to my father for two weeks and come back.”

Ahiram laughed. “And in two weeks I will be free.”

“And you will marry me.”

He looked at her, startled. Before he knew it, she held him and kissed him affectionately.

Suddenly, a powerful light lit up the sky, turning the night into dazzling day. It startled them both, and forgetting everything, they watched in awe, unable to believe what they were seeing.

Drapes of weaving light from the highest heavens to the bottom of the valley danced before them, filling the forest with resplendent colors. The guests streamed from the open doors and stood enchanted.

The sheets of light swayed gently in the valley, as though moved by a breeze. Then they parted, forming four large pillars of light, which shone so brightly that everyone covered their eyes. One by one, the pillars faded, leaving behind the quiet twinkle of a starry night. After a moment, the guests burst in applause and congratulated the King.

“Your Majesty,” exclaimed someone, “what a magical spectacle; this honors us much.”

The guests thought this was a welcoming gesture on the King’s part. They were used to the court of Babylon, where acts of magic were performed on special occasions. Yet, Babylon, in all its might, had never produced a show remotely close to what they had seen tonight.

Bahiya was one of the few not to congratulate the King. She knew this was beyond human prowess. This was of a different nature.
Something is stirring
, she thought, leaving the balcony.

Ahiram took Noraldeen by one hand, his plate with the other, and slipped quickly out of the crowd to a quieter place.

“This is incredible,” whispered Noraldeen.

“It is,” replied Ahiram, gazing at the sky with eyes full of hope. “Somehow, I believe it is a good omen. Light in the midst of darkness is usually impossible, and a slave freeing himself is usually impossible. See? The two go well together.”

“And a slave marrying a princess is usually impossible. See? The three go well together.”

Ahiram imagined Noraldeen in the great hall of the Amsheet, the northern fortress where her father, Lord Orgond, ruled. Suddenly, he felt lonely. She had been a ray of warmth during these six years of intensive training. She was always there when he needed her and had never asked anything in return. He feared losing her the way he had lost his family.

“Noraldeen, listen. Before you leave, I want you to promise me, promise me that no matter what, you will not forget me. Promise me on your father’s name that your door will always be open to me.”

Gazing lovingly at him, she promised.

“And I promise,” said Ahiram, “when I am free, I will be at your side whenever you need me.”

Ahiram placed his right hand on Noraldeen’s left shoulder and she placed her right hand on his left shoulder.

They had sealed their oath. Noraldeen then swiftly kissed him again.

“Farewell, my Prince.”

Other books

A New Death: CJ's Story by Vasquez, Josh
If Winter Comes by Diana Palmer
Secrets at Court by Blythe Gifford
Serving Pride by Jill Sanders
Boy's Best Friend by Kate Banks
Ballads of Suburbia by Stephanie Kuehnert
Hanging on a String by Janette M. Louard
Inventing Ireland by Declan Kiberd