Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) (31 page)

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Authors: Michael Joseph Murano

BOOK: Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1)
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“It is the shark, I tell you.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Yesterday it was the oysters. The day before…what was it again? Oh yes, the lamb, and tonight, the shark.”

“Well, it is not my fault if I snore.”

“Of course not. It is not your fault that you snore. Your snoring is what’s faulty that’s all; it wakes me up.”

“Well, you should sleep in a different room.”

“As if this would change anything. Your snoring is so loud; I would be surprised if the King upstairs, or anyone else in the entire castle is able to sleep.”

Ramany and Hylâz were sitting in the common room, looking at each other dejectedly. Ramany, the fat, short judge, had a gruff look on his face and his hair looked like a bunch of broken straws shaken by a violent wind. Hylâz’s face was wrinkled from lack of sleep and his frown furrowed his forehead, splitting it in two. Whatever hair he had had, he seemed to have lost tonight.

He passed his hand over his scalp. Ramany followed his gesture attentively.

“What are you doing?”

“I am combing my hair.”

“Your hair? But you barely have any.”

“If you did not snore, I wouldn’t be losing my hair.”

“My snoring causes your baldness?” asked Ramany. “This is incredible.”

“Your snoring would cause crows to go bald,” scoffed Hylâz. “In fact, do you see any crows around here? No, there you go.”

“Crows? But it’s the middle of the night. You are impossible.”

Ramany started laughing. Hylâz joined him.

“So, why did you wake me up?” he asked, remembering now what was bothering him.

“Well, it is only justice, is it not?”

“So, if you cannot sleep, I should not sleep either?”

“I was getting bored sitting here by myself listening to you filling the night with your poetic expressions.”

“You could have woken up Garu. He is the lead judge after all.”

“I tried, but neither Garu nor Ibromaliöm are in their rooms.”

“Ibromaliöm is a night owl, so this is not surprising, but Garu? Usually, he is more disciplined than the Silent.”

“Well, Garu, Ibromaliöm, and the King wanted to join the Silent Corps when they were young. They enrolled in the Silent’s training program the same year, but the oath scared them enough that they dropped out the day before the oath ceremony.”

“Garu? A Silent?”

“Yes, I know. Most of us underestimate this man. Behind his quiet, seemingly bored face, is hidden one of the sharpest minds I have ever known. I tell you, sometimes he scares me.”

“Ibromaliöm scares me.”

“Me too, but not in the same way as Garu. Ibromaliöm is not as subtle as Garu is. You can tell that he is trying to impress you. Garu hides it. He does not want to attract any attention to himself.”

“And what is it that scares you about me, old friend?”

Ramany and Hylâz almost fell out of their chairs. Garu was standing before them, as if he materialized from nowhere.

“Garu, this is most unsettling, and if I may add, lacking in taste and gentlemanly manners.”

“My apology, dear Hylâz, but I could not resist. You are afraid of me? I must say, I am grieved. I thought we were friends.”

“I do not think it prudent to annoy our good friend, Ramany, with this rather private matter, do you not agree?”

“You have been annoying him, as you say, for quite some time now with this private matter, so why not pursue it a little further?”

“I am not annoyed,” said Ramany quickly.

“And why are you up, Master Ramany?” asked Garu.

“It is the shark—”

“Ah yes, indeed. I found it too heavy for my taste.”

“See?” exclaimed Ramany, looking triumphantly at Hylâz.

“It must be the garlic,” said Garu, smiling.

“Yes, the garlic, that’s it.”

“Well, my dear Hylâz, I am sorry if I have put you on the spot, but the events of this night are rather unnerving, if I may say so.”

“Events? What events?” asked Ramany.

“One of Hiyam’s men was found dead.”

“Dead?” exclaimed Ramany and Hylâz.

“As dead as can be. He was murdered.”

“Murdered?” exclaimed the two men in unison once more.

“Have you ever considered singing together?” asked Garu, smiling.

“Garu,” snapped Hylâz, “this is not the time for your sarcasm.”

“You are right. I am sorry, dear friend,” said Garu, sighing. “Something is wrong and I am on edge.”

“But how did you find out?” asked Ramany.

“Tanios woke me up. He wanted to question me about my whereabouts. Apparently, I am one of the prime suspects.”

“You mean to say that Tanios thinks you may have committed the crimes?” Hylâz’s voice was shrill with fear and excitement.

“He did not say it in so many words, but he told me that he will send some members of the Silent Corps to protect me.”

“Well, is it not a prudent decision?” asked Ramany.

“It would be if Tanios allowed the Silent to be at my disposal. Instead, he said that the Silent would protect me. The difference is subtle, but very real: it means he does not trust me, and this, in turn, implies he considers me a suspect.” Garu stood up and went to the door. He put his finger on his lips, asking both men to be still. He opened the door quickly and looked out. “Nobody. These Silent are truly amazing.”

Ramany and Hylâz joined Garu and looked into the corridor. There was no one to be seen. They went back to their seats, and Garu closed the door.

“Are you sure someone is guarding these doors?”

“Well, you have only to ask Tanios. I am sure he will be paying you a visit very soon. He told me he wanted to speak with Ibromaliöm first. In any event, I am going to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day, so I suggest you do the same. Good night, my friends.”

Garu left. Ramany and Hylâz sat around the table waiting for Tanios to appear at their door. After waiting for a long time, they grew tired and went to bed. Hylâz waited anxiously for Ramany’s powerful snore, but it never came. Ramany’s fear of being murdered kept him awake all night. But he would be quick to lay the guilt of insomnia on the shark steak they had eaten—served with a creamy garlic sauce, salad, and a fresh loaf of bread. His stomach grumbled and he fidgeted in bed wondering what would keep him awake longer: his fright or his bloated stomach.

“No, my dear Tanios, there is no one besides the four of us.”

“What are we to conclude, Your Majesty?”

“That Master Ibromaliöm, Master Garu, you and I, are prime suspects in this matter.”

“But this is absurd.”

The King walked toward the window. Dawn had begun coloring the clear skies with a deep golden hue.

“It is going to be another fine summer day in the kingdom, my dear Commander,” said the King. Looking at Ibromaliöm, he added, “The facts are undeniable: whosoever used this dart knew how to use it at close range and was known to the victim. All of us– you to a lesser extent–fit these two conditions rather well, would you not agree?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Commander Tanios, you and I have had our differences. We may not agree on the presence of Baal, the building of the temple, nor the honor I accord to the priestess. Nevertheless, my father—the gods be praised—made an excellent choice when he placed you at the head of the Silent Corps. I have never questioned this; some have suggested that I demote you but I have always refused. I feel secure knowing you are the head of the Silent Corps. You know that the Temple of Baal would be very glad to see the Corps dismantled. I do not want this to happen. The murderer must be found and stopped before it is too late.”

“What do you suggest, Your Majesty?”

“Why would anyone want to murder these young men? There is no relationship between them; they belong to different teams and different families. What is the motive for their murders?”

“I do not know, Your Majesty. Granted, both teams have tried to get rid of Ahiram, but this does not explain why these two young men—and no other members of their teams—have been killed.”

“True, indeed. So what do they have in common?”

“They are both men and they have been murdered in the same way.”

“By a poisoned dart,” said the King. “Hmm… I think it is time we had a conversation with the old man, Habael. Where do you suppose we should find him in a few hours hence?”

“In the quarters of the Silent, Your Majesty.”

“Ah yes, Master Habael does take good care of your protégé, does he not? Very well, I will pay that remarkable Silent a visit. No need to bring Master Habael here. Also, we need privacy while talking about such matters and your quarters are as good as any, my dear Tanios.”

Tanios bowed and left the Royal Hall smiling to himself.
The King said remarkable ‘Silent’ rather than ‘slave.’ Ahiram is starting to make a name for himself.

“There, there,” said Habael, as he removed the last elixir pad he had placed on Ahiram’s shoulder the night before. “See what a good night’s rest did? You are nearly healed. Are you ready for the next Game?”

Ahiram examined his shoulder and smiled. “What would I do without you?” he asked, looking at the old man.

“What would
we
do without Habael?” interjected Jedarc, who was sitting by Ahiram.

“We would have to put up with the moaning of Ahiram all night long, that’s what we would be doing.” said Banimelek.

Ahiram, Banimelek, and Jedarc erupted in laughter.

“You beat the team of Baal,” said Banimelek approvingly.

“They were at a disadvantage,” said Jedarc. “Twelve against Ahiram, come on.” They all laughed again.

“Are you trying to defend them, Jedarc?” asked Banimelek, teasing.

“Me? No, not at all, never, you know me, Banimelek. Me, defend the High Riders? Outlandish, preposterous, ridiculous, absurd. Perish the thought. The mere fact that I find Hiyam…
very
pretty should not be construed in form or manner to mean, imply or intimate that Jedarc of the Silent Corps is defending the High Riders.”

“Look at him,” chuckled Banimelek, “Jedarc is in love.”

“I am
not
,” replied Jedarc. “All I said was that she is—”

“Very pretty,” completed Banimelek. Their laughter died down when they saw Ahiram’s expression.

“What?” asked Jedarc. “You don’t find her pretty?”

“She’s a snake, Jedarc, a snake who wants me dead. Beware the women of the Temple, they will chew you live and spit you out like an olive’s kernel. You would be nothing but dead weight to her.”

“I hear you,” said Jedarc, sighing. “But are you certain she’s doing this out of her own free will or…”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” snapped his friend. “It doesn’t matter. As long as she belongs to the Temple, you will never know, so drop your sentimental dirge and wake up: your beloved wants me dead.”

“She is
not
my…” Jedarc sighed and became suddenly serious. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Ahiram. You can trust me.”

“That’s not the point,” cut in Ahiram quickly. “I trust both of you with my life. It is
you
that I’m worried about. The creatures of the Temple are not real. Never trust them, ever.”

“You are right, Ahiram. I am being a sentimental idiot.”

“Not a complete idiot,” replied Banimelek. “If, by some miracle she leaves the Temple, courting her will be like a wide open field, now that Ahiram has given Olothe the beating of his life.”

Ahiram’s mood darkened instantly. Jedarc looked at Banimelek as though saying, “What is wrong with you?” Banimelek shrugged his shoulders and looked at Habael. Having missed nothing of this quiet exchange, he looked at Ahiram with great tenderness and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Does it still hurt?”

“No,” said Ahiram, almost imperceptibly.

“Well, then this is good. You heal fast.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “Now, my boy, I will say this to you: never grieve beyond hope, and do not let sorrow overwhelm you. Instead, let your sorrow be your daily bread to remind you of what you have done. The prince is also to blame; he acted rashly.”

“But he could not have known what I am capable of when my temper rages.” Ahiram stammered. “I cannot blame him for that.”

“He knew, my boy. I told him.”

“You did?”

“Yes, the morning of the Game of Silver, I had asked to have an audience with him, and I explained to him the danger he was placing himself in by attacking you. I told him about the love and admiration you have for your family and how it was most important for him to treat you with respect.”

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