He cast his eye slowly over the crowd. “Is there any among you who doubts?” Cries of No! echoed throughout the chamber. “And would you give your life to serve Hajazar?” This time, shouts of Yes! and Take me erupted like a dark melody.
In his eagerness, one man stood and rushed up to the dais with arms held wide. The Vizier reached down and gently touched the devotee’s chin with his finger.
“Are you willing to die?”
“Yes, my lord.” The words flowed out like a song.
The Vizier cast his gaze over the others. “You see? This is a believer who will never be afraid: who will never feel the bitter touch of oblivion.” He returned his attention to the man. “You will be rewarded for your strength and devotion. But not today. You are still needed amongst the living for a time longer.”
After bowing, the devotee returned to his seat with slow, dejected strides. Smoke once again rose from the Vizier, and he resumed his human form. Positioning himself directly behind the Rahaji, he placed his hands on the ruler’s shoulders. In response, the Rahaji reached into his robe and drew out a long silver dagger. The light from the moon was now in the very center of Rashid’s chest.
“It is time,” the Vizier told him. “Make your offering, and secure your place in paradise.”
Akiri rose quickly to his feet. There could be no more delay. Planting a boot on the top of the balustrade, he launched himself into space, a fierce cry escaping from deep inside as he descended on the dais. Even with his superior strength and agility, the impact was brutal enough to force him into a cushioned roll to protect his bones from breaking. Fortunately, thanks to the shock of his appearance, he recovered before anyone had time to react. He sprang to his feet to find himself staring into the eyes of the Vizier standing on the opposite side of the altar.
“You!” he hissed.
Akiri grinned with malicious intent. “Yes. Me.”
The sudden shouting of Dabo’s men pulled the Vizier’s attention away. Dabo was already charging toward them. The soldiers began climbing the dais to form a ring of protection, but the Vizier waved them away.
“Deal with that rabble,” he shouted, then glared at Akiri. “I’ll take care of this one.”
Shoving the Rahaji hard aside, the Vizier’s true form manifested in an instant. Akiri leapt over the altar, narrowly missing the boy, who had not so much as stirred. His sword was poised to pierce the Vizier’s chest, but with a speed to match his own, the demon stepped sideways and seized him by the arms. After being whirled around in a rapid circle, he was released and sent flying through the air. He thudded into the rear wall, the weight of the impact forcing the air from his lungs and very nearly knocking him unconscious.
Struggling for breath, he swiped upward just as the Vizier was closing in. But this foe was unlike any human opponent. With another move that was almost too fast to see, he dodged the blade and landed a devastating blow to Akiri’s temple.
The force was so great that Akiri slid to the edge of the dais. Dazed and for the moment unable to see, he heard his sword clatter to the floor. Cruel talons wrapped themselves around his throat and dug spitefully into his flesh as he was pulled to his feet.
“Mortal fool!” The Vizier’s voice had become a rumbling growl. “Let me show you what true power is.”
Akiri clawed at the Vizier’s arms, but it was like scratching granite. No longer able to breathe, he knew this would be the end. In a final act of defiance, he spat where he thought his killer’s face must be. When it was met by a howl of fury, Akiri smiled.
Barely had his smile faded when a familiar roar sounded from above. Instantly, the crushing hold on his throat was released. He collapsed to the floor, coughing and wheezing. The thudding in his ears had dampened his senses, but there was no mistaking Kyra’s call. He raised his head sufficiently to see the Vizier glaring hatefully upward.
The Rahaji still lay on the ground where he had been shoved aside, and the Vizier now lifted him up. “Come, Your Majesty. I fear for your safety. It is time we left,” he said, ushering him quickly toward the rear door.
The sounds of the fight between the soldiers and Dabo’s men gradually filtered through into Akiri’s brain. Struggling to his feet, he looked up. There, perched on the rim of the oculus, was Kyra. She had already broken most of the wires securing the window, and with a final swipe of her front leg, she broke the remaining one and sent a huge sheet of glass crashing to the ground. With another roar of triumph, she dove through the opening, her wings expanding as she made a sweep along the outer walls before landing heavily beside Akiri.
By now, only Dabo and three of his men remained alive. Gathering his strength anew, Akiri retrieved his sword. Kyra did not wait for him. Charging into the fray with unrelenting ferocity, she quickly tore apart flesh and bone with complete abandon.
Dropping down from the dais, Akiri ran headlong toward the narrow stairs that split the seating in the middle. Dabo was weaving and ducking to avoid the blades of two soldiers, while the remainder of his men were now hacking at the backs of four others who had turned to face Kyra’s onslaught. He bounded up the stairs, clearing three rows of seats in a single leap before thrusting his sword through the back of Dabo’s nearest foe. Dabo quickly finished off the other and then set off toward the dais.
“We have to stop them,” he shouted.
Akiri caught up with him, forcing him back. “Don’t be a fool,” he said. “We have no way to fight the Vizier. For now, we must see to Lord Rashid.”
Dabo struggled for a moment and then relaxed with a defeated nod. “You’re right.”
The two of them hurried to the altar. Rashid was still lying there motionless. His eyes were open, but he did not seem to be aware of their presence.
“What would they have given him?” asked Akiri.
One of Dabo’s men approached. “I deal in herbs and salves. Let me take a look.”
Akiri backed away so that he had adequate room to examine the boy. After a few minutes, the man looked up with a relieved expression.
“He’ll be fine in a few hours. I’m almost certain it’s saku root.”
“Almost certain?” queried Akiri.
“I’m no healer,” he said. “But I know enough to recognize saku when I see it. Unless they’ve imported something I’m not familiar with, that's what it is.”
Akiri looked down at Rashid. The boy’s eyes were vacant, and tiny beads of sweat dotted his brow and cheeks. He looked to Dabo. “Stay with him,” he instructed.
With that, he made his way through the rear doorway. Beyond this was a small chamber containing no more than a few chairs. Two doors led from the room: one directly ahead and another to his left. He went left and found himself in a long hallway. This took him through several empty rooms and a large dining hall, but eventually it came to a dead end.
Returning to the first room, he tried the other door. Once again, he found himself in a passage. After ten minutes of searching, he eventually came to a staircase, at the top of which was an exit leading to the outside. A pair of freshly made tracks told him that this was where the Vizier and the Rahaji had come.
On his way back, his ear was caught by a soft moaning coming from behind a thick oak door. Inside he found Mahir, bound and gagged. Judging from the cuts and bruises on his face, he had been beaten severely.
“Lord….Lord Rashid,” he croaked weakly, as Akiri removed his gag and began cutting away his bonds.
“He is safe,” Akiri assured him. “Can you walk?”
Mahir slid against the wall and pushed himself into a seated position. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment for the feeling to return to my legs.”
With the Vizier gone and Rashid secured, there was no hurry. Akiri knelt beside him and examined his wounds. Most were superficial, though a few would leave permanent scars.
“How did you end up here?” he asked.
“The Vizier. He sent men to the manor and took us both. He kept me alive just to keep Lord Rashid calm. He
’s not…human.”
“I know.”
“What is he?”
“A servant of Hajazar, and the true power behind the Rahaji.” Akiri helped Mahir to his feet, throwing his arm around his waist for support. “We can talk more of this once we are away from this foul place.”
After rejoining the others, he saw that Kyra was again perched high on the edge of the oculus. This time, however, her gaze was fixed on a distant point outside the temple. Akiri knew that she was watching the Vizier and the Rahaji fleeing the valley. He could feel her anger rising once more, though for now at least she was keeping it under control.
“What will we do now?” asked Mahir, as they began departing the temple.
Akiri was carrying Rashid in his arms. “I suggest you flee.”
“We are not running,” said Dabo.
“Then you will die,” Akiri told him flatly.
“He’s right,” said Mahir. “We can’t run. There is nowhere for us to go. Even if there were, I will not abandon my home.”
“And you would sacrifice Rashid for your pride?” Akiri scolded.
“You think the Vizier will allow him to live?” snapped Dabo. “He is the only noble with a claim to the throne. He will hunt him no matter how far the boy runs. No. This must end now. There is no other choice.”
Akiri shrugged. “Do as you will. It is not my fight. I have done as I promised, and I owe you nothing more.”
Rashid stirred in his arms as they approached the exit. His eyes fluttered open.
“Akiri?” His voice was a soft whisper.
“I am here.”
Rashid smiled. “I knew you’d come. I prayed to Mishna. I knew she would send you to save me again.”
Akiri blew out a long breath. “Go to sleep. You’re safe now.”
“Thank you,” said Rashid. His eyes closed and he clutched at Akiri’s shirt, a tiny smile still resting on his lips.
Akiri groaned inwardly. This was a fool’s quest. To fight this demon spirit with nothing but a handful of men was the pinnacle of stupidity. The moment the Vizier reached the city, he would send a host of men out to crush them. And without the dagger of Imheti, there was no way to destroy him.
“We are not entirely without weapons,” said Mahir.
“What do you mean?” asked Dabo.
Mahir tried to grin, but the pain had him wincing and hissing through his teeth. “Can you get back into the city?”
“Yes. But to what end?”
“Let us find somewhere safe, and I will explain.”
Akiri wanted to curse them all for fools. But in his heart he knew that he was every bit a fool as well.
Soft, he thought. That’s what I’ve become. Soft and stupid.
When it came down to it, he would not be able to turn his back on Rashid. As things were, he was the best, and likely the only, chance the boy had for survival. Kyra at least would be pleased with his decision. As if in response, he heard her cry on the wind.
“See what you’ve done?” he muttered.
Her laughter carried back to him almost instantly.
“Enough!” he shouted.
“Who are you talking to?” asked Mahir.
Akiri glowered. “A fool. A complete and utter fool. And his dragon.”
Chapter Fifteen
Akiri stared into the fire, a deep frown carved into his face. Mahir and Dabo were nearby talking strategy. As if either of them understood military tactics, he thought. But there was little else they could do.
Six days of inactivity had made Kyra restless, and she was now off on a hunt. Akiri envied her this freedom. She would lose herself in the thrill of the chase and then finally in the sublime moment of the kill itself. For a spell, all else would be forgotten. There had been a time when he could push all troubles from his mind as well – when sleep came easily and life held real meaning for him. Would such times ever return?
He had ventured across the desert in the hope of finding a path for himself and a life worth living. Most importantly, one that was not touched by the vile hands of the gods. But it seemed the further he traveled, the closer they came. And the more he resisted them, the more entangled his life.
Food was running low, so they would need to resupply soon. Dabo had contacts with several farmers outside the city walls, but there was a problem. Word had already reached them that the entire area surrounding Rath was riddled with patrols. The Vizier had put a reward on both his and Dabo’s heads, claiming they had kidnapped Lord Rashid.
Akiri’s senses began tingling. Someone was approaching from the south. Picking up his blade, he crept over to conceal himself behind a pile of dried palm fronds they were using for kindling. The old well they had set up camp beside was infrequently used – or so Dabo had said. It was miles from the nearest farm or village, and beyond lay nothing but a vast expanse of desert.
Two men wrapped in desert robes and wearing long blades walked up casually. Without so much as acknowledging Dabo and Mahir, they approached the well and began drawing water. Dabo was on his feet and armed in a flash. Mahir backed away, looking ready to bolt.
“There is nothing to fear, outlander,” called one of the men in Akiri’s direction. “We come in peace.”
“What do the Suldan know of peace?” demanded Dabo.
Akiri frowned. The Suldan. There were two ways this could go wrong: if Kyra thought they were the same people who had held her captive, or if the Suldan knew about his involvement in the death of their comrades. Either way was trouble. He stepped from behind the fronds and positioned himself beside Dabo.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“To help you, slayer,” he replied, just before dumping a bucket of water over his head. He shook the water free from his face.
“And why would you want to help us?” asked Akiri.
“Because we have no desire to be ruled by a demon. Or a demon’s puppet, for that matter.”
The man whispered something to his companion, who turned and started back the way they had come. Akiri moved to stop him, but the first Suldan held up his hand and stepped in his path. “He goes only to fetch our mounts. You can kill me if I am lying.”
“I do not need your permission to kill you,” Akiri told him.
The Suldan shrugged. “I suppose not. Considering how many of my people have already fallen to your blade…”
“So you know who I am?”
“We have watched you for days,” he explained. “I doubt that there are many people who keep company with a dragon. I can only assume it was you who slaughtered my kin. You and your beast.” He glanced skyward. “You should check that all of your victims are slain before leaving the bodies to rot.”
Akiri detected a hint of anger in the Suldan’s expression, though it was quickly suppressed. “They earned their fate,” he said.
“Did they? Ur Badal was not exactly well loved, but as far as I know, he only tried to sell a beast at market. I fail to see how that is a crime deserving of death.”
Akiri’s jaw tightened. These people regarded dragons as animals no better than a horse or sheep. Though this attitude infuriated him, he saw no point in trying to make the man understand. “I need not explain myself to you,” he snapped. “If you have no desire to join your friends, you had better tell us why you are here.”
“As you wish,” he replied. “We captured one of your men. After some…persuasion, he told us of his mission. And of what you are fighting against.”
Dabo took a step forward. “What did you do to him?”
“We sent him on his way, of course. And had he been honest with us from the beginning, we would not have needed to tend his wounds first. As it is, he should be returning any day now.”
“Then you know what the Vizier really is, and what we are up against?” Dabo asked.
“I know that you are battling against a demon spawn that will devour the sands if not destroyed. But we have been aware of that for some time. Now we finally have a way to fight.”
>
Dabo frowned. “How could you have known? Even I did not know the Vizier's true nature until a few days ago.”
“You have little understanding of the Suldan or our ways. You think us as nothing more than bandits and ignorant nomads.”
Dabo sniffed. “You do very little to change that belief.”
His words obviously touched a raw nerve. “What could you possibly know?” the Suldan sneered. “You and your kind are a plague on the desert. You do not see her raw beauty or her eternal mystery. You seek to change her – to mold her to your own selfish needs. You huddle together around the green and soft lands and look out upon her with fear and loathing. Yet despite this, you still claim to be desert people.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You are vermin.”
Akiri could see this was likely to get out of hand. If the Suldan were willing to help, they needed all the allies they could get. “If you have come to spit insults, you can leave now,” he said.
Dabo and the Suldan locked eyes for a long and tense moment. Finally, the Suldan cracked a smile.
“You are right, slayer,” he said. “This is a fight for another time. For now, we have a common foe. Let us attend to that matter first.”
“What is your name, Suldan?” asked Dabo, clearly trying to maintain his calm.
“I am Dar Gazal, son of Dar Halal. And your name I know well, Dabo. Or do you prefer Vareem?” He looked over Dabo’s shoulder. “And that one behind you is Mahir.”
With this knowledge clearly taking Dabo by surprise, Akiri stepped forward and extended a welcoming arm. “I am Akiri. Come. Join us by the fire, and we can talk as allies.”
“A fine idea,” agreed Dar Gazal.
Akiri: Sands Of Darkness Page 17
