Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) (37 page)

“I am certain that Her Majesty would like this mystery solved as soon as possible,” replied Habael.

“Then we will go and see if we can have an audience.”

They left the Silent’s quarters and walked toward the Lone Tower.

“Let us first stop by the Silent’s common area. I need to give a few instructions.”

The two men crossed the Lone Tower and walked into the Silent’s area through the door adjoining the commander’s quarters. Banimelek stepped out of his room just as they walked in.

“Banimelek,” said the commander, “please call the Silent. We have much to do and very little time.”

“Certainly,” replied the young man. He closed his door, which quietly reopened as soon as he let go of the handle.

“Still not fixed, I see,” said the commander, who stood several feet away. Banimelek was startled; Tanios did not see him close the door. “I do not need to look, Banimelek,” he growled. “I can tell from the sound of your footsteps that you stopped and turned around. Get this handle fixed today.”

“Yes, sir,” said the young man.

He knew the commander was a stickler for order. Using a whistle, he sent out three shrill calls. Immediately, the thirty-four Silent came into the common area and stood at attention, forming seven teams. The last one to make it was Jedarc, who was still buckling his belt.

The commander ordered two teams to patrol the second and third floors of the castle, when a new recruit interrupted.

“Sir,” asked Sheheluth, “what are we looking for?”

The Silent stood rigid, wondering how their commander would handle the interruption. Silent were supposed to be just that—silent—unless afforded an occasion to speak. This was a grave breach of their code, but Sheheluth thought the gravity of the hour justified a few questions.

“It’s a loose chicken,” blurted Jedarc. “It escaped the kitchen, and it’s threatening the safety of the castle. No telling what it can do, you know.”

The Silent were stunned by Jedarc’s glib remark. The commander’s eyes bore into the young man, who smiled innocently. “Isn’t it so, Commander?” he asked.

“Two murders have been committed,” replied Tanios calmly. The Silent held their breath, waiting for the punishment that was sure to come. “We have reason to believe two more will take place in short order,” he added. “I want to prevent these crimes. You will protect the team of Baal and apprehend anyone walking in the castle unescorted by our soldiers or by the Silent. Is that understood?”

As he said this, the Commander gazed intently at Sheheluth.

“Yes, sir,” she replied quickly.

“Permission to speak, sir,” said Roman, a tall, third-year Silent.

“Permission granted.”

“Thank you, sir. Question, sir. Does this command extend to the judges, the guests of honor, and the priestess of Baal?”

“Yes, Roman. Very good question. To everyone without exception, and most especially, the priestess. Her murder would amount to a declaration of war. It would be the end of Tanniin as we know it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Roman. “Thank you, sir.”

“Sheheluth?” The commander’s voice was even and steady.

“Yes, sir?” The ebony-skinned young woman was lithe and slim, with wide brown eyes and a smile to light the night. She waited expectantly, hoping her natural charm and youth would excuse her behavior.

“After you finish your shift watching that corridor, you will go down to the kitchen and offer your services to Leifa. The cooks have begun their preparation for the end of Games celebration. Usually, forty or fifty chickens are plucked for this event. You will tell her I want you to pluck the whole pile by yourself, and you will not go back to your room until this chore is complete. Is that understood?”

Sheheluth’s shoulders slumped. She lowered her gaze, swallowed hard, and whispered “Yes, sir.”

“What was that?” asked the commander, his voice rising slightly.

The young woman stood to attention. “Yes, sir!” she replied.

The commander nodded. He did not have to glance at Jedarc to know the young man was already regretting his bit of humor.

Tanios directed three more groups to patrol the first level and added, “Jedarc, Banimelek, you’ve got your orders. The rest of the Silent will remain here on stand-by. Any questions?”

There were none. The commander gave a quick bow and all of the Silent responded with a deep bow. He walked out with Master Habael, who noticed that Banimelek’s door was ajar. He closed it discreetly as they stepped outside the Silent’s quarters and back into the main corridor of the castle’s second level.

“You need not protect them, Master Habael. It is their duty to protect this castle.”

“Indeed,” replied Master Habael, “but I do wonder, commander, how will Sheheluth protect the royal castle by plucking thirty chickens. They can’t be too dangerous now, can they?”

The commander glanced at his friend as they walked by the Lone Tower. “I am beginning to wonder if assigning Jedarc to your protection is a good idea. You are acquiring his sense of humor.” The old man chuckled. “Sheheluth’s hands, wrists and arms are still weak. In their present condition she can hardly parry with the staff or put enough power into a dart to hurt anyone fifty feet away. This will provide an excellent training for her.”

“Plucking chickens, you mean?” asked Master Habael.

The commander did not answer. Instead, he walked briskly to the large window at the right of the Officer’s Tower and leaned down to examine the marble floor. Master Habael joined him.

“What is it, Commander?” he asked.

The commander stood up muttering unintelligible words. “Look,” he said indignantly, “look at the floor.”

Habael peered at the floor and only noticed some dirt by the window.

“You mean, the bit of dirt?”

“The
bit
of dirt? The
bit
of dirt? It is dirt on the marble floor, and it is a breach of protocol. I shall have a word with the head slaves, they are responsible to keep this floor impeccably clean with no
bit
of dirt
anywhere
. If they cannot keep their slaves in check, I shall have both of them flogged.”

“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.”