Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) (36 page)

“Priests of Baal who read these, my words, consider that Alissaar’s curses never harmed innocent passersby. Reflect on their stability and longevity through the centuries, and you will realize the debt of gratitude we owe Alissaar. His curses are the pillars sustaining civilization. His curses are our high wall against the madness of the Pit.

“Alone, this founding father of our order continues to protect us long after he is gone. He is the arch-model of the High Priest.”

–
Teachings of Oreg, High Priest of Baal

“Baal banished Tanniin to the outer realm by thrice pouring blood upon him, once for each pair of wings. Only blood poured out twice, and twice again, can bring him back.”

–
Book of Siril
, 22nd Apocryphal Act, verses 4-5

Commander Tanios watched Ahiram dive into the cold water of the Lake of Hiding before heading back to Taniir-The-Strong. Tanios breathed deeply as he walked, trying to ease the knot of apprehension gripping him. He chaffed angrily at “the boy’s stubbornness.” But when his anger failed to hide his fears, he tried to distance himself from the Games. He reasoned that he had advised Ahiram against participating in the Games.

What else could I do?
he thought. He reminded himself that Ahiram was at the peak of his abilities.
He should survive…
he repeated several times until his anxiety subsided. As he walked toward the castle, he glanced absentmindedly at the snow-covered peaks of the eastern Tangorian Chain, glittering in the haze of the morning heat. They reminded him of the icy-cold lake where he had seen Ahiram plunge. His fear returned stronger than before, and the lack of a solid lead to apprehend the murderer killing the athletes made matters worse. Royal Road was empty. He glanced at the tall oak trees lining it. The King, at the insistence of the commander, had decreed that destroying one of these trees was a criminal offense, punishable by flogging. During one of Ahiram’s proverbial bouts of anger, he had broken several branches from the trees and smashed them in the middle of the road, making a spectacle of himself. The decree had helped the young man find other, more discrete ways to vent his frustration and anger.

Tanios walked through the main gate and paid no attention to the guard’s salute. He was relieved when a servant told him that Master Habael was waiting for him in the third training area of the Silent Corps.

“Master Habael? Why meet here when Training Area 1 is open?” he asked as soon as he entered the room.

Area 1, was the Silent’s largest training hall, designed for martial arts, hand-to-hand combat, acrobatics, stealth tactics, and endurance. Area 2, was reserved for dart training, and Area 3, the smallest training hall, was filled with dangling cordage, wooden, hollow circles, and pulleys used for all sorts of acrobatics, staff combat, and dart shooting.

“I chose Area 3, because it is windowless, Commander Tanios,” replied the old man, a glint in his eyes. “There is a map I wish to show you,” he added, turning his gaze to a sheet of parchment laying on a table next to a simmering teapot.

“I don’t recall seeing this table here before,” said the commander suspiciously, “and since there is no stove here, how did you get this pot to simmer?”

“I assure you, Commander, this table is perfectly innocent; I brought it from storage,” chuckled Habael, pointing with his chin to a door, “and this teapot was specially designed by the dwarfs for me. It has a double hull with a metallic coil encased between them. When heated, it keeps the tea simmering for much longer than an ordinary teapot. Now, judging by your question about the teapot and the tea, I would say you are worried, are you not?”

“Hot,” said Tanios, “boiling hot.” He set down his cup on the table. “I will breathe better once the Game of Gold has ended and Ahiram comes out alive.”

“Would you like me to pour cold water into your tea?” asked Master Habael. “I can have a jar of fresh water brought here.”

Tanios glared at the old man as if he had asked him to eat stale fish.

Habael laughed. “Now, now, Commander Tanios, you do not have to growl at me so; even the King likes a little cold water in his hot tea.”

“I am not of kingly stock, my dear Habael; I enjoy my tea piping hot. Why do you not leave my tea alone and tell me what you have found, old friend?”

“I have gone over the poem,” said Habael, drawing closer to the table, “and I think it may hold a clue to these murders.”

Tanios was gently blowing on his tea, and his head jerked up when he heard his friend’s reply. “This is surprising. Please, Master Habael, do explain.”

“Glad to oblige,” said Habael, smiling. “Please listen to this excerpt from the poem:

Yet, he silently awaits the day of his strength,

When freedom shall be his at length.

He must, to heal his woes,

Deal Baal four blows,

Four sons, four lives.

By stealth and silver knives

Sprinkle the four corners of the seal,

Break the curse, end his ordeal,

Reveal what was hidden within

At the mighty surging of Tanniin.”

The commander winced, berating his impatience, for the hot tea had burned his tongue. “Too hot,” he growled. “Blasted teapot.”

“What was that?” asked Master Habael innocently.

“What do you make of it, Master Habael?” replied Tanios hastily. “I mean, this bit of the poem. What do you make of it? You know I do not deal well with metaphors. For instance, how can a seal have corners? King Jamiir’s seal produces a round, red smudge of wax. It has no corners. But supposing it did, what would it mean?”

“Perhaps,” suggested Habael, “the word ‘seal’ does not refer, in this case, to the signet that produced it. Instead, it may point to the extent of the power behind it.” Seeing a confused expression on the commander’s face, Habael raised his hand in a gesture of patience and explained further.

“For instance, if the King’s deputy wishes to shut down a tavern, he seals the door with a bit of wax and the King’s signet, yes?” The commander nodded. “The King’s deputy does not need to apply a second seal on the back door of the tavern; once the citizens of Taniir-The-Strong realize that the front door has been sealed, they know not to walk through the back door. Thus, the power of the seal covers the entire structure.”

“If I follow this line of reasoning,” the commander argued, “four drops of blood translate to four corners. You are telling me that the locations of the murders mark the corners of a room. Is that it?”

Master Habael nodded. “It is a bit farfetched,” mused the commander, “but who am I to judge poetry? All right, I can work with this. Tell me, Master Habael, what is in that chamber? How would dropping blood on the corners free Tanniin from Baal? You do not believe this will cause the forces of Baal to withdraw suddenly from the empire, now, do you?”

“Your skepticism is well-founded, Commander, if in fact, this was a political move.”

“Whatever it is, Master Habael, eventually, it will involve sweat, blood, and the clatter of weapons.”

“I may be able to offer an answer, Commander, but first, let us look at the map, shall we?” invited Habael.

Tanios eyed his friend and smiled ruefully. “Sometimes, I wonder who the real king in this place is,” he said, as he drew closer to the table. Carefully, he placed down his cup of tea, then grasped the edge of the table with his hands and leaned forward, his powerful frame overshadowing the map.

“So, there are four drops of blood and four corners,” he muttered. “I had assumed that the precise location of the murders to be irrelevant, but if the murderer killed these men of Baal simply because they happened to be in the right location, well, this changes everything.”

“Exactly,” replied the old man. “Exactly.”

“Thus far, we have two ‘drops,’ if we may call the victims so. One drop occurred in the storage room on the first floor, and the second, in the Queen’s Ballroom on the third floor. Since these ‘drops’ are happening on different levels of the castle, then the height of the drops relative to the corners of the room should not matter, is that not so?”

“I would think not,” said Habael. “What matters is to perform these crimes as close as possible to the corners of the room.”

The commander peered at the parchment and visualized the castle in his mind. “There is no room in the castle whose corners match these locations.”

“Indeed, the room in question must be beneath the castle.”

Tanios nodded approvingly. “So someone is committing these crimes to free Tanniin from Baal. Since the Temple has been tightening its noose around the kingdom, it would stand to reason that a desperate soul in Tanniin has decided to put faith into these old stories and murder two men in cold blood.”

The men exchanged a silent gaze in which they both realized they were thinking the same thing:
could the King have killed these men?

Tanios looked at the map once more, and penciled a shaded circle around the location of the two murders. He traced a line joining them. “If the two locations are two corners of a rectangle, then either they are adjacent, or diagonally opposed. In the first case, we do not know where the two other murders will take place, for we have no idea of the length of the other side of the rectangle.” He drew two dotted arrows pointing in opposite directions.

“Still, we know that the two other murders will take place either left or right of the line joining these circles, and inside the band delimited by the four arrows. Master Habael, how big is this room of yours?”

“Difficult to say, Commander. If it is a secret chamber, then it would be relatively small. If, on the other hand, it is a secret temple, then it would be sizeable indeed.”

The commander shrugged his shoulders and grunted in approval. “If these two circles are diagonally opposed, then our task becomes easier, for we would know where the two other murders would take place.” As he said this, he drew two other hollow circles and joined the four together into a diamond. “They would take place at these two locations.”

“Presuming, of course,” added Master Habael, “that the corners of this room are at right angles.”

“A safe assumption, Master Habael, since this is the case in every rectangular room of the royal castle.”

Master Habael nodded. He peered at the map. “Is it to scale?”

“It is a good rendition of the castle,” explained Commander Tanios, “enough to know where everything is in relationship to everything else, but I do not believe it was drawn to scale.”

“Then how can we be sure that the corners of the squares are where they are supposed to be?”

“We cannot be sure, so I am not taking chances. The Silent will be keeping a tight surveillance on all three levels.”

“Commander Tanios, why do you think El-Windiir III abandoned Taniir-On-High and built the castle of Taniir-the-Strong?”

“Huh?” asked the commander, confused. “How is that relevant?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“As far as I know, he thought Taniir-On-High was under a curse, but I have never been able to find out the real reason.”

“If the locations of these murders delineate a secret chamber, then the story of this castle, Taniir-The-Strong, might contain important clues, wouldn’t you say?”

The commander gulped down his tea and served himself a second cup. “Excellent tea, Master Habael,” said the commander after a few sips. “Clues you say? Hmm…that is a possibility. The King’s knowledge on this subject would surprise you.”

“Forgive me for being so bold, Commander, but I believe Her Majesty the Queen may know more about this than His Majesty.”

“The Queen?”

“Yes. She has taken a great interest in the history of these legendary castles and has often questioned me about their history. I would not be surprised in the least if during one of her customary walks up the mountain, she even managed to reach Taniir-On-High.”

“Indeed, my dear Habael, I would not be surprised either. Her Majesty likes trekking up the mountain; the women among my Silent are keenly aware of this. They have told Her Majesty that she should join the Silent Corps, for no one can climb this mountain like she.” Tanios paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you think we should bother Her Majesty with this case?”