by Rai Aren
A hush fell over the room.
“We know that planting false rumors that the King had Assan assassinated as revenge for Anjia’s long absence helped to seed doubt and mistrust in the peoples’ minds.”
Those gathered nodded their agreement.
“But that was not enough. Still people stand by him. Still they obey that evil family.” Zhek felt himself getting caught up in his own anger. He needed to remain calm, to deliver his plan with an even, measured tone. “However, it did work to a point, there have been rumblings of mistrust, so what I suggest is another way, a far more decisive way, of getting the people to turn against him. Something that the King will not be able to overcome this time.”
“What is it, Zhek?” a man asked.
Zhek acknowledged him. “The village Derepet is where Princess Anjia spent her time in exile,” he said.
“She lived with Uta and Ehrim, they came to visit her at the Palace,” the man added. “I found out where they live in Derepet.” He had been the one to follow them back when they left the Palace.
“And I thank-you for that,” Zhek smiled, “that was valuable information to have.”
The man nodded, sitting up straighter.
“Now, Assan was responsible for taking her there, taking her away from her father. It was not all that difficult for people to start believing us that the King would then kill him out of anger and bitterness, and cover it with lies about him dying in the fire, fighting to save others. Anyone with eyes could see how their relationship had deteriorated beyond repair.”
The people nodded their understanding. Discussion broke out about how everyone in the main city had seen how the King’s relationship with the Head Priest had obviously deteriorated. There had been a marked change between the men after Anjia returned. Rumors were already running wild that the King had secretly killed Assan out of vengeance and that he used the chaos at the Palace as a convenient cover-up.
“So then,” Zhek continued, wanting to get the focus of the group back on track, “it is not much more of a stretch to imagine how much he must resent Uta and Ehrim for taking his place in his daughter’s life. How humiliated he was to learn that these filthy peasants cared for her while he was told she was dead.”
“He would be consumed by jealousy,” the woman said.
“His daughter was handed over to lower people,” another added. “An offense to him, I am sure.”
“Precisely right,” Zhek said eagerly. “He would never forgive them for the part they played in the deception.” He walked around the room, “Nine years, my friends, nine years they stole from him. He can never get that time back. What they did is unforgivable.”
“He would want revenge!” someone called out.
People banged their cups on the tables, showing their agreement.
“Yes,” Zhek said slowly, making eye contact with everyone there, one by one, “he would.”
Shera was growing nervous, she did not like the way the people were playing right into Zhek’s hands. They seemed caught up in an almost trance-like state. Zhek’s hold over them was powerful. He had a way about him. Charismatic and convincing at times, while chillingly cold and depraved at others.
“If the King would kill his own Head Priest over this, a very important man in Kierani society, and his life-long advisor, would he allow those mere peasants to live?”
“Never!” someone answered. Shouts were heard echoing the sentiment. The crowd was getting riled up. People were moving around, shifting in their chairs.
“No,” Zhek said, nodding his agreement. “He would have lived with the indignation of their attempted superiority over him. Traeus, the King, supplanted by two lowly, scheming villagers.”
“He would want to kill them!”
“Yes, but not only them,” Zhek said, pointing at the man. The crowd went quiet. “Princess Anjia lived there for nine long years. Everyone in that village is equally culpable.”
Though still in agreement, the crowd was noticeably quieter, more still. Small murmurs were heard as people tried to see his rationale.
Zhek continued. “He would want to seek vengeance on every member of that village, punish them for betraying him, for conspiring against his family. He would want the entire village destroyed along with everyone in it.”
Silence met him as people looked at each other nervously.
“I know what you are thinking. We would need to kill everyone in an entire village, and that is going to take resources and careful planning.” Zhek was lost in a place of his own. He could no longer see that that was not all they were thinking.
Finally, someone ventured an argument, “But they did not know who she was. They were only told she was an orphan.”
“Lies,” Zhek said.
“But they said…”
“Enough! Do not be so stupid! Of course they knew,” Zhek sneered. “The King simply could not bear to admit to everyone just how many people actually conspired against him. It would only serve to make him look more of a fool.”
Those gathered tried to absorb what Zhek was telling them.
“I assure you all,” he said, standing up, his arms outstretched, “this is the only way.”
After a moment’s pause, and the ensuing silence, Zhek continued. “I propose we have Rekar and Shera steal as many Royal guard uniforms as they can from the Royal storerooms. We will dress in those uniforms to wipe them out. When we arrive in Derepet, we will announce that we are there to seek revenge on the village that harbored the Princess. We will say that in the name of the King, they are all sentenced to death.”
Rekar’s face was grave. He felt a cold chill that he and his wife were being singled out in front of everyone as pawns in this diabolical plan. He felt backed into a corner, complicit. He had harbored this fugitive for years.
“But if we kill them all, who will say it was the King?” a man asked, oblivious to the monstrous nature of the plan.
“We will leave only a few alive…to tell the tale.” He knew the group needed a little more convincing. “This is our first real chance to bring down House Selaren once and for all. There would be no going back.”
Zhek walked around the room.
“And just think, that so-called Child of the Prophecy, the King’s daughter who they arrogantly call the ‘Chosen One’, will be brought to her knees in grief. Perhaps she will never recover. She will certainly be in no shape to lead anyone, likely ever again.”
Shera watched, utterly sickened at what was happening. The room was abuzz with conversation, how the plan could work. How they could achieve their aims of destroying the King once and for all. They were working themselves into a frenzy of perverse excitement, swept up in the evil plans of a madman.
Zhek was pleased. He had succeeded in whetting their appetite for revenge. “We must do this soon,” he said. “Very soon. Or the King will come looking for us.”
Chapter 39
Subsea Search, Present-day Egypt
WHILE Mitch and Alex went to rent scuba gear and wet suits from Alexandria Divers, Jack and Bob scouted for a protected and secluded area to dive. They found a site on the mainland, outside the harbor wall, not far from Pharos Island. They waited for the cover of darkness to begin their excursion. They had gone to an internet café to research the dive location to get their bearings on what to expect and how to best approach the site.
“When did you guys learn to scuba dive?” Jack asked as he helped strap the air tank to Alex’s back. They were up to their knees in the water. It was surprisingly cold.
“We took scuba lessons right after our first year at university,” Alex said as she secured her straps. “After we learned that a lot of lost monuments are buried under the sea, we thought it was an important skill to have to help with our archaeology careers.” Alex took a deep breath, welcoming the coo
l breeze from the Mediterranean Sea. “If we had more time, we would dive to all the underwater remnants of lost Mesopotamian civilizations.”
“This is a pretty cool place to start,” Mitch added.
They re-checked their underwater flashlights that were strapped to their wrists, their waterproof wristwatches, diving compasses, as well as the rest of their equipment. All was in proper working order. Mitch also strapped their duffel bag to his shoulder. They would carry the Pharom back in it, if they could find it.
Mitch put the mouthpiece on and gave the thumbs up. Mitch and Alex developed a few basic hand signals to communicate with each other underwater.
“This is all moving pretty fast,” Bob said, “are you sure you don’t want to rethink things?”
Alex shook her head. “I think it’s our best shot. Every hour, every day we delay, is time that our friends are at the mercy of those Stasi beasts. It kills me to think of what might be happening to them.”
They all reflected on those implications for a moment. It steeled their resolve.
“For our friends,” Jack said, holding up his fist.
They all fist-bumped. “Our friends,” they said in unison.
“Ok, you guys have ninety minutes,” Bob said. “Good hunting.”
Mitch and Alex walked to deeper water and dove in briefly, testing the scuba gear. They turned around and gave the “okay” sign. Jack and Bob waved goodbye, as their friends dove down.
The Mediterranean Sea hosts a wide range of exotic sea life: large fish resembling swordfish, octopus-looking creatures, eels, shrimps and small fish. They turned on their flashlights and followed their underwater compass. Their lights lit up a colorful and lively underwater world. Mitch and Alex swam underwater for twenty minutes to Pharos Island, carefully avoiding the sea life. The site was only eight to ten meters down, but the water was murky, and visibility was poor.
When they made their way to the ruins by Pharos Island, all they saw was what looked like piles of debris. Mitch looked at Alex and shrugged his shoulders, indicating they were going to have a tough time finding anything there, with the limited oxygen left in their tanks.
They swam around the underwater ruins below the citadel for the next forty-five minutes. They found nothing that could suggest it could be a hiding place for the Pharom. Mitch turned to Alex and pointed to his watch. They had only twenty-five minutes of air left to get back to the site they had secured with Jack and Bob. They could swim on the surface without their scuba gear, but they didn’t want to be spotted.
A feeling of hopelessness engulfed Alex. She was certain the Pharom would be here. It was so difficult to see anything in the dark water. Suddenly, something large and rubbery swam by her legs. Alex, startled, screamed. A gush of seawater rushed into her mouth.
Mitch, seeing her flail with panic, quickly assisted her in re-securing her mouthpiece in place. He took her by the shoulders and pointed at his mask, so she would make eye contact with him. He nodded his head and held her shoulders until she calmed down.
Finally she gave him the okay signal. She told herself to get a grip. Her inexperience was getting the better of her in the dark, murky, unfamiliar waters.
Mitch shone his flashlight towards the large creature that swam by them. The creature turned back and swam towards them again. Mitch pointed to the oncoming creature. They froze. It swam around Mitch and Alex, first circling them, then swam between their legs. The creature was about five feet long, with a flattened body, and broad pectoral fins. Its body resembled a stingray, but its head resembled a shark. The top of its body was a brownish color, the bottom-side was white.
Alex did her best to maintain steady breathing. It wasn’t making threatening gestures, but it was big.
Mitch was enthralled by it. He thought that fear should be kicking in, but somehow he wasn’t afraid.
The creature then swam off in the distance. They followed it with their flashlights. Again, it turned back towards them, circling them.
They didn’t know what to make of it, but this time Alex wasn’t scared. She stared at it, watching its fluid, purposeful movements. She felt a sudden wave of peace and calm. The feeling and the experience was unexpected, surreal. The creature’s movements were almost hypnotic.
Not knowing why they did it, Mitch and Alex continued to follow the creature. They swam past several large stone blocks, and a sphinx statue. The creature swam on, and they kept following it, resisting the urge to stop and examine the relics. It lead them to an area resembling a cave of some sort. Schools of fish swam out from the cave. From a distance, it looked like the creature’s arrow-like body was pointing towards the cave.
Mitch and Alex swam on. They looked closer at the opening and realized it wasn’t a cave at all, but man-made architecture. It was covered in algae and thick sea vegetation and was heavily eroded by the salt water. It rested on its side, with a sloping, pointed top.
Alex’s heart raced. The structure looked like it could be the top of a lighthouse. Mitch pointed at it. Alex nodded. They were both thinking the same thing. This had to be what they were looking for.
Mitch shone the flashlight inside the circular structure. It was constructed with columns, and was open, nothing enclosed. The spaces between the columns were by far, large enough for them to enter. He cleared away some vegetation. They swam inside.
There was a light tap on his air tank. He looked back.
Alex was right behind him, pointing to something tucked inside the ceiling of the structure, behind some rocks. They swam over to it, shining their flashlights. It stood out because it looked new, not covered in algae like everything else.
They moved the various sized rocks aside to reveal a plastic garbage bag. It looked very out of place.
Alex reached for the bag. It was heavy. She motioned for Mitch’s help. He felt the bag, inside was a box, the right size and shape for the container Dr. Khadesh had built. He ripped a hole in the bag to take a look.
They had found it.
Alex gave the thumbs up.
Mitch nodded.
Trying to stay calm with their building excitement, Mitch and Alex carefully lifted the container out of the lighthouse. Mitch checked his watch. They only had approximately fifteen minutes of air left. They placed the box, still in its protective plastic covering that Dr. Khadesh had left it in, inside the duffel bag Mitch was carrying with him. He then strapped the heavy object to his back. He led the way as they swam back to the secured site.
After swimming for ten minutes, their air was getting dangerously close to running out. Alex pointed to the surface, suggesting they should surface. Mitch put up one finger, asking her to swim for an additional minute below the water. The longer they could swim underwater, the less likely the chance that they would be seen.
Alex shook her head. She pointed up and swam to the surface. She turned and motioned him to follow.
Mitch complied. He was glad they were not diving deep and did not have to worry about the bends. Many scuba divers have suffered from pressure injuries and decompression sickness.
They surfaced.
Alex coughed as she removed the mouthpiece and breathed the open air. Mitch surfaced beside her and looked around to see how much further they had to swim.
“We have to hurry,” Mitch said. “And this thing is heavy.”
Alex nodded. She took hold of one side of the strap, while Mitch took the other. They pushed hard with their legs and flippers, swimming quickly. Carrying the container had slowed them down and the night air was colder now. Their strength was fading fast and they were still a fair distance from shore.
