For several seasons, Elijah had been beating back the dreadful feeling his father was dead, but he had finally succumbed. He believed only death or something much worse could have kept their father away for this long. He was most deeply concerned for Malaki, who was so young yet. He didn’t want his little brother’s youthful innocence to be corrupted by the loss of his father, so Elijah did his best to maintain a façade of optimism.
He was sorry his father would never get to see and experience the new life he had earned for their family. They had a much nicer home, but little else had changed. They had more land than they could work and no one to help. Still, it was a huge step up and the possibilities seemed limitless.
Chapter 31
“Where’s Sol?” Malaki asked, blinking away tears from the sting of the freshly chopped onions. Lest Elijah think him a baby, he quickly lowered his head and wiped the tears from his rosy cheeks.
“He’s chopping wood,” Esmeralda said as she cut up the last of the carrots and gently dropped them into the bubbling pot steaming upon the stove.
“He is all finished.” A welcome breeze sneaked around Solomon’s back and drifted in through the open doorway. Leaning into the foyer, Solomon tossed a piece of wood to Malaki. “Put that in the stove.” He spoke in a loud, friendly voice. Elijah was glad to see him so relaxed; he knew his older brother still carried the biggest part of the responsibility for the family’s well-being.
Solomon’s cheerful smile lit up the kitchen as he walked back in the door carrying a heavy load of wood, bringing with him the smells of freshly split pieces and sweat from his labors.
He stacked the fuel as neatly as he could against the wall next to the stove, trying to avoid the very vocal scolding that would be handed down if he made a mess of it. Esmeralda kept a tidy home; everything was in its place, and she had a keen eye for offenses. She even watched carefully while Solomon fed two large pieces of lumber into the huge iron stove.
All the boys had been forced to take on added responsibilities to help compensate for the absence of their father. Still, no one had borne the burden more than Solomon, who had immediately taken it upon himself to lessen the blow of their father’s absence as much as possible. He seemed determined to assure his younger brothers had time to enjoy their youth, and the freedom to roam and play.
Though Solomon was only three years older, Elijah recognized the way his older brother had changed in the years since their father had left. Solomon had quickly grown into his adulthood, both in size and demeanor. He was a father figure to both of his younger brothers now, but especially to Malaki , and Malaki practically worshipped him.
Solomon also worked hard to assure the extra burdens not fall to their mother. Esmeralda already worked too hard, many times laboring alongside the boys in the field. Besides, taking care of a family was a man’s work and Solomon had shouldered the burden with gallantry.
The smell of fresh beef and vegetable stew filled the small kitchen and floated into the dining hall. The boys were huddled at one corner of a huge banquet table, their stomachs growling at the tempting smells, making them even more anxious for their supper.
“Get your bowls!” Esmeralda shouted and smiled; she knew the boys were already waiting, bowls in hand. They raced into the kitchen and lined up in front of the stove. Elijah had made it in first, but Malaki quickly shoved his way to the front.
Elijah smiled and laughed as the small boy nearly knocked him into the butcher block. Malaki almost always got his way; everyone in the family had a soft spot for him. Esmeralda dipped a large ladle into the pot and filled each boy’s bowl. After retrieving their supper, the three boys, along with their mother, trooped back into the dining room to sit at the lonely corner of the large and intricately carved mahogany table.
Elijah had never been comfortable eating there. His eyes were always drawn along the surface of the table away to a vast emptiness that seemed to swallow it whole. It made him feel empty and sorrowful. It reminded him of how alone they really were, especially with their father gone. Elijah often longed for a world beyond this lonely castle, a world full of life and laughter—a world full of adventure.
Besides Malaki, there seemed to be no joy or hope left in any of them; Elijah imagined that was the reason they all clung to the tiny boy so tightly. If not for his dedication to his family, Elijah would leave this dreary castle behind and go live in a town or a city. He would find a girl and he would dance. He had only danced once, a long time ago, and he remembered it as one of the most joyful moments of his life. But he knew those things were not possible for him, not when he was needed here, and the long emptiness of that table was a constant reminder of that.
Glancing across the table, Elijah could only see Solomon’s angled and muscular jawline and profile, because his brother was also staring down towards the lonely end of the table. His jaw muscles were clenching and rippling as if he was grinding his teeth. Moments earlier he had been cheerful and smiling; Elijah wondered why he now looked so distressed.
Does the empty table trouble him, too? he wondered. Did it stir in Solomon the same loneliness that tore at Elijah’s very soul? But that could not be so; Solomon had someone. He had a future here; he would most likely have his own family soon.
Elijah was happy for his brother, but envied him greatly. He harbored no ill will towards him; how could he? It wasn’t Solomon’s fault, and he had even spoken out against the decision out of concern for Elijah, but they had been able to do nothing to sway their father’s purpose.
Solomon was the oldest, so he should be married first. That’s all there was to it. Elijah tried hard to understand his father’s reasons. Proximity was the problem; there were hardly any eligible girls nearer than a weeks travel.
The look on Solomon’s face shouldn’t have worried Elijah now. Ever since their father left, Solomon’s brow had seemed forever furrowed. He struggled long and hard to achieve the best for his family. But then Elijah realized this expression was different; Solomon was eating faster than usual and he didn’t say a word, which was not like him.
He looked over at Elijah and tried his best to muster a convincing smile, but Elijah didn’t buy it; he saw something completely different in his brother’s eyes. He saw fear! Elijah had never seen him afraid, not even when their father left. Now Elijah was nervous, too, and intrigued; what was going on? Solomon’s silence told Elijah it would be better to pry into this matter tonight, when his brother came upstairs for bed.
*
“We lived in the middle of nowhere, days from the nearest town. My brothers and I used to play games together in the forest by my house.”
“So you were close to your brothers?” Ayda interrupted. She gently placed her hand on the bed beside Elijah’s leg as she turned to look at him. Elijah lay motionless for a moment, contemplating the question.
“Yes.” He looked up at her and smiled after a long silence. “We were definitely close. My father would take us for long walks into the forest; we would walk so far we would have to camp for the night and come home the next morning.” Elijah turned his head when the bed jiggled and saw that Ayda now lay beside him.
“He never planned for us to stay out there all night—at least that’s what I believed back then—but my younger brother, Malaki, would keep pushing. ‘Just a little farther,’ he would say, and my father always had supplies, so we would just end up staying.” Elijah looked back up at the top of the tent, adrift in thought.
“That sounds nice. Your father sounds like a good man.” Ayda rubbed the back of her hand across Elijah’s rough and prickly beard.
“Yes, he was.” Elijah’s voice was low and monotone.
“Tell me more about your brothers.” Ayda pressed.
“Malaki was smart and witty. He could get you to do anything, and he always wanted to play; we used to swordfight with sticks until he was tuckered out.” Elijah smiled and laughed. He enjoyed those good memories, but over the years they came to him less and less often.
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br /> “And your other brother, tell me about him.” Ayda’s voice was soft and low; her eyes were closed. Elijah hoped she would fall asleep soon. He wanted her to stay.
“My older brother was more like another father to me and Malaki. He took good care of us; when Father was hurt, he took up the slack and worked his hands raw every day so Malaki and I could play like he believed children should, even though I was only a few years younger than he was.” Elijah remained still; he kept his focus on the flapping tent, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.
“What was his name?” Her voice was just a whisper now; she would be asleep soon.
“Sol—uh—Solomon.” Elijah’s voice rattled and his throat choked as he coughed up Solomon’s name.
“That’s a good name; a strong name.” Ayda opened her eyes wide and then blinked hard, like she was trying to wake up. “What about your mother?”
Elijah turned his head hard to crack his neck; he didn’t know if he could speak about his mother without baring his soul. He hadn’t spoken of her to anyone.
“Her name was Esmeralda, and she was beautiful. She used to sing to us. I still hear her singing, sometimes, when I lie down.” Elijah looked over at Ayda and her eyes were closed; he grabbed the chain around his neck and pulled it until a small pendant worked its way out of his tunic. Elijah read the inscription aloud, as he had a thousand times, “‘Everything begins and ends with a will, and a purpose is only as strong as the will that propels it.’”
“That is beautiful; was it hers?”
Elijah jerked his head around; he was shocked and jolted by Ayda’s voice, which was now coming from just over his shoulder.
“Yes. Yes, it is, I mean was.” He tucked the pendant back into his tunic and looked up at her as he rested his head back on the bed. “I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep.”
“No, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have been so pushy. Your family sounds wonderful. I can see now why you want so badly to find William.”
Elijah closed his eyes for a moment and considered telling her the entire truth, but decided it would be pointless. “What? How do you know about William and my family?” He looked up at her once again, feeling frustrated and uncertain.
“I apologize. I overheard you tell the Khan.” Her eyes quickly shifted away from Elijah. He had paid attention to who was around when he spoke of his family to the Khan. He had been confident no one else was close enough to hear, but decided to let it go for now.
“Tell me one more thing.” Ayda sat up on the bed. “How did you get to be… what you are?”
“I really don’t know.” Elijah’s eyes widened and he took a deep breath. “I woke up on the floor after seeing William butcher my family and I slowly discovered I was faster, stronger; I could see and hear better and farther. I even had better reflexes, better balance.” He sat up beside her.
“I fought my first vampire that day. It was very difficult, but I won, obviously, and I have become faster and stronger every day since. Now, even most vampires seem to move in slow motion.” Elijah looked down at his personally crafted kopis and then at Ayda.
“So, you believe, given the chance, you could take William’s head with your kopis.” Ayda leaned closer and shifted her eyes to the ancient kopis and back to Elijah.
“That is exactly what I think—his and Solomon’s, at the same time!” Elijah could feel the blood rushing through his veins. He took another deep breath and tried to calm himself.
“Solomon? Your brother Solomon?” Ayda’s eyebrows rose what seemed to be a full inch, and her forehead crinkled as her eyes opened wide.
“Of course not.” Elijah stared at her hard so not to reveal his lie. “You need to go; I’m getting tired,” he lied again.
“As you wish, but only after tell me why you choose to carry the kopis.” Ayda moved back to the stool.
“I don’t know; I was just looking through a book of weapons and that one seemed… right. Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering if it said anything about you. I mean, it is an ancient weapon.”
“I know that.”
“There are far superior weapons; the kopis was the Spartan warrior’s alternate second weapon. His primary weapon was a spear, and his secondary weapon was a sword, usually a double-edged short sword called a xiphos.” Ayda paused for a moment.
“What is your point?” Elijah asked as he leaned forward and gently shook his head.
“My point is, although you can thrust with the kopis, it was primarily used as a hacking weapon. The xiphos proved to provide a much cleaner kill. Those Spartans who chose the kopis did so because they didn’t care if the kill was clean, and they wanted to inspire fear. The kopis is and will forever be remembered as a bad man’s weapon. Are you a bad man?” she asked, seemingly in earnest.
Elijah reached forward and picked up his ancient kopis. He examined it as if for the first time. “I did read that in the library at Alamut; that might have been part of the reason, I don’t know. This one was carried by King Leonidas when he and his three hundred men died fighting the Persians.” Elijah’s eyes were unfocused, as if he had journeyed somewhere far away in his mind. “I am definitely not a good man, but then I have been alive for a while now and have only found one truly good man. They are rare creatures.” He spoke again after a moment of silence, as he laid the kopis back on the floor. “How do you know so much about weapons?”
“I have…” She paused and looked at him and then at the ancient kopis. “I have spent a lot of time in libraries. May I touch it?”
Elijah picked up the sword and handed it to her.
“Was this really Leonidas’s sword?” Ayda smiled and her eyes seemed to glow as she examined it. She looked up at Elijah, who nodded. “I wouldn’t have imagined him carrying a kopis. How did you get this?” she asked.
“I am an Assassin… or I was,” he boasted. “How do you think?” Elijah smiled as he retrieved the kopis from Ayda’s outstretched hands. “It was a gift from Hassan.” He was reminded of his big friend every time he saw the sword. As he placed it back on the floor next to his bed, he wondered what might come of Hassan now that the entire Assassin network had taken such a huge blow.
“Very well, we will leave it at that.” Ayda smiled. “I know a good man, also. Actually, he is a great man. He is my brother. His name is Khalid. He is stubborn and proud, but, when it counts, he always does what he believes is right for those he loves. I think that makes him a great man.” Ayda moved back to the bed. She pushed Elijah’s hair away from his face and looked into his eyes.
“You remind me of him. You don’t look like him; you just seem similar. That is why I cannot believe you are all bad.” A few moments later, she stood up and walked towards the exit.
“Where is he now? Why are you not with him?” Elijah leaned back on the bed and put his hands under his head.
“He had a family, a wife and a daughter.” She turned back to face him. “When they died, he ran as far away as he could.” She paused. “He wanders in the desert from time to time, but he always comes back to me eventually. Before he made a family, I was all he had, and he was all I had.” When she finished speaking, she quickly turned and exited Elijah’s tent.
The Beginning:
William 1186 AD
His chest flooded with the thrill of power as he held the heart up in the air like a trophy. Not wasting any more time, he sat down on the floor next to the mutilated corpse and began to eat. He devoured the entire thing in minutes and then waited patiently to receive his gift.
Chapter 32
“The time is fast approaching, William. This year will have great significance in the future. We are on the verge of a discovery that will forever change our stations in life and reserve for us a place in history esteemed beyond all others.” The old man spoke slowly, his words interspersed with dry coughs and small gasps for air.
His voice was raspy and low, muffled by the cloth he held forever over his mouth in an attempt to keep this terrible
plague from escaping his already mutilated body. His caretaker knew it was merely a politeness, unlikely to make any real difference. It was like barricading the front door in an attempt to stop the devil himself from making his way inside, while leaving the windows wide open. Regardless, William appreciated the effort.
“This discovery will tear open our minds and with it the very fabric with which this world has been held together.” The old man continued his oratory with great effort, now gasping for breath after every second or third word.
William had been at his lord’s side every day for the last fifteen years, ever since he had been trampled by oxen while working in the fields, and had become unable to work the parcel of land allotted to him by his feudal lord.
Fifteen years later, Lord Jeffrey now lay nearly lifeless before him. William remembered the day after his accident, how he had feared his family would starve. William only had two boys back then, and only one old or strong enough to help in the fields.
Normally, Jeffrey would have taken whatever wealth a family possessed as a final payment for taxes owed and thrown the entire family off of his land. William had been quite relieved to find his situation was a bit special, since William’s mother had grown up with Lord Jeffrey.
She, like her mother before her, had been a servant to the family. Since she was about the same age as Jeffrey, they had become close playmates and Jeffrey had eventually fallen in love with her.
The Castle of Rothber, if you could call it a castle, was nothing more than a rock cellar beneath one small but sturdy tower. It was connected by a small corridor to a large room which had been divided on the inside into a dining hall, a kitchen, a small storage room and the servants’ quarters, where only one servant was permitted to stay each night.
Jeffrey himself was no stranger to hardship; he had spent much time out in the mud and the muck with his servants. His family lived more like peasants than lords, as was quite common among small rural lordships of the time. Jeffrey himself was indifferent to the intricacies of titles and status, so he had been broken-hearted when his parents told him he must marry someone other than William’s mother.
Apotheosis of the Immortal Page 13
