by Khalid Uddin
Baltaszar rolled his eyes and threw up his arms, “Oh, Light. Are you really so sensitive? All I meant was that, if I wasn’t in love with Yasaman, I think that there could be something between us. It wasn’t an insult or pity or a favor. It was just a dimwit farmer’s way of stating that there’s a connection between us! Goodness, woman, are you all this difficult?”
Baltaszar had his head facing the ceiling, and only too late did he notice Anahi slowly leaning into him. She moved her face next to his, then barely touched her cheek against his and whispered, “Clever boy, ya haven’t said anythin’ about the prophecy.”
He leaned back in his chair and looked her in the eyes. Those beautiful grey eyes. “And I don’t plan to,” Baltaszar whispered just as softly.
Something loud knocked against the door, hitting it so hard that the door opened nearly a foot. A young man, of an age with Baltaszar but a few inches taller, walked through the open door. He wore a green woolen riding coat and black breeches and boots. His deep brown hair was short and somewhat curly, and his face bore a grin nearly as big as Cyrus’. Most importantly, a vertical black line started at his forehead and intersected his left eye, stopping at the top of his cheek. His skin was lighter than Baltaszar’s. “Oh, sorry for knocking so hard, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Should I leave?” Before anyone could answer, he continued. “I was so excited when the innkeeper told me there was another Descendant here, I had to come see you right away. I’ve been traveling throughout Ashur, and I haven’t had much chance to meet many like me. Like us, I should say. You know, with all the hiding and being hunted. What’s your name?” He looked at Baltaszar the whole time, and had barely glanced at Anahi since intruding upon the room. “I’m Horatio. Horatio Mahd.”
Horatio walked up to Baltaszar and stuck out his right hand demonstratively. At the gesture, Anahi sat back on the bed. Baltaszar stood up and grasped Horatio’s forearm, allowing Horatio to grasp his as well. He had seen his father give certain people in Haedon the same salutation from time to time. “Baltaszar Kontez.”
“Baltaszar! It’s great to meet you! I didn’t think I would meet anyone until I actually arrived at the House of Darian. This will be great; we can ride down together! When were you planning to leave?”
Baltaszar twisted his mouth to one side. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Listen, Horatio. I know you’re very excited to meet me, and the feeling is mutual. Well, somewhat. But without any intention of rudeness, you need to slow down a bit. Anahi here, and I, were in the middle of an important conversation, and to be, well, quite honest, you barged in and interrupted.” Baltaszar noticed Horatio’s wide-eyed abashed countenance and suddenly guilt invaded his mind. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not kicking you out or implying that I don’t want to get to know you. It’s just…”
“No. You are absolutely right. I have a bad habit of forgetting my manners when I get very excited. My father used to reprimand me for that constantly. And for making silly noises at the most random and inappropriate times as well. When I was younger, I just thought it was part of my charm. But well, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Did I mention that I also ramble on and on when I get nervous or insecure?”
Baltaszar felt the shroud of awkwardness envelope him more and more as the conversation went on. And Anahi sat behind Horatio, making incredibly silly faces the whole time Horatio talked, which only made things worse. “Ah, no you didn’t mention that, but I will definitely make a note of it. If your destination is the House of Darian, though, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted. When are you leaving Vandenar for the House?”
“Tomorrow morning. I want to be there by a week from today and I would really like to visit the City of the Fallen before getting to the House. It’s the only big city that I haven’t seen yet. Figured I should save it for last.”
“I’m planning to go there as well. We can share the whole trip together, how about that?”
Horatio nodded in approval. “Amazing, I can’t wait!”
“Uh…great! Well why don’t we meet up in the morning then? I have some things to discuss with Anahi, “Baltaszar gestured toward Anahi, intending it as an introduction. Anahi smiled as Horatio looked back at her, and Baltaszar continued, “Then I will likely go to sleep. I’ve had a long day and I’m quite tired. In the morning, we can find each other and set off together.” Baltaszar put a hand on Horatio’s shoulder and led him toward the door. “How does that sound, friend?”
“That sounds just fine. Again, I’m sorry for intruding and disturbing. It wasn’t my intention to be so rude. Have a good night,” he patted Baltaszar on the shoulder and waved to Anahi as he exited the room, still grinning from ear to ear.
Baltaszar shut the door and, for the first time, turned the lock. He sat back in his chair again, smiling at Anahi. “So where were we?”
“I know exactly where we were. Ya were not tellin’ me about yer prophecy.”
Baltaszar nodded, “Yes. That sounds about right. I have no intention of telling you about the prophecy.” Anahi opened her mouth to fire an objection. “But before you interrupt me, Anahi, understand my reasoning. This prophecy, according to you, will definitely come true. If that’s the case, then I must keep it to myself. What I was told was a terrible thing, something extremely bad and if the wrong people knew, it could be quite incriminating for me. The last thing I need as I learn about this world and try to become a part of it, is people judging me and assuming I’m a horrible person, just for something that hasn’t even happened yet.”
“But ya can trust me. I only want ta know so I can ease yer burden. Get some o’ the weight off yer shoulders.”
“I really want to trust you with this. But despite that, I do not trust the world. You said yourself that there are bad people in this world. Those same bad people who could eventually use information like this against me and to their advantage. If there’s one thing the ordeal with my father taught me, it’s that a man can spend a lifetime building a strong reputation, but all it takes is one word to destroy that reputation.”
Anahi sighed and nodded, seemingly giving up on the argument. “So then what are these important matters that ya must discuss with me? Matters so important that ya had to rush yer great friend Horatio out o’ the room?”
“Well, it seems I shall be leaving in the morning. Which means that I don’t have much time left to talk to you. I need you to at least tell me something about the House of Darian. I know it brings back bad memories and that you don’t want to insult me. But I need this, Anahi. I know nothing of this world. Anything you can tell me will help my chances of survival.
Anahi sighed. “Very well…perhaps I should have ‘em send up dinner first. That’s a lot o’ information ta discuss. Hold yer wits fer a moment.” She left the room and within a few minutes, returned and sat in the same spot on the bed.
“Where’s dinner?”
Anahi pursed her lips. “It takes some time ta make, fool boy. Did ya really think I could just go downstairs an’ they would magically know what I was goin’ ta ask fer? Have some patience.”
Baltaszar mocked her, mouthing her words with a funny face.
“As fer yer questions, ye’ll be a bit disappointed, I’m afraid. I have some answers, but not fer everythin’.”
“Tell me what you can then. It’s fine.”
“All right, well…the House o’ Darian. From what I know, it’s a meetin’ place fer all ya Descendants, like I said before. Ya all tend to go down there after a certain age. I don’t think they have a requirement, but I suppose everyone has their own family obligations an’ such. Most go when they’re around my age.”
“Exactly how old are you? You never told me.”
“This past summer was my sixteenth.”
“Well then I suppose at least I won’t be too late. The coming winter will be my eighteenth. But why go there? What’s there that is so important?”
“Like I also said before, King Edmund is huntin’ all o’ ya, but yer all protecte
d at the House. I would imagine they also teach ya about them manifestations. But again…we’ve already been down that road.”
“Fine. But what about these bloody manifestations and black lines in the first place? Why do we even get them?”
“I don’t know much about that either, Baltaszar. I’m sorry, but look who yer askin’. I work at an inn nowhere near the House an’ I’ve never left this town. I believe it’s got a lot to do with the Orijin an’ the Harbingers an’ all. But I’ve never been properly educated on those things.”
The door opened once more, Baltaszar realizing only now that it wasn’t locked. Two new dark-haired, almond-eyed maids walked in with plates of food and folding trays on which to eat. The maids set the trays in front of Baltaszar and Anahi, then set the plates down, steam billowing from each. Both plates bore a steak, smaller than the one Baltaszar had eaten for breakfast, accompanied by a mixture of roasted onions and diced red-skinned potatoes. After setting the plates, one of the maids placed a glass of deep red wine on each tray top and left the room.
Baltaszar salivated and exhaled loudly. “You’re not being as helpful as I’d hoped. Maybe I should just go have dinner with Horatio.”
“I’m sure he would love that. Go then.”
“If I went, I’d take your dinner with me. There’s no reason Horatio should miss out on something like this. Anyway, back to the point. What about the Descendants? Any idea what that means? Who are we descending from?”
“Well, that one’s simple. Yer descendants o’ Darian! That’s why ye’ve got the House o’ Darian, fool boy!”
“But how? I mean, I have a twin brother, yet I have this line on my face that says I’m a descendant of Darian, but he doesn’t. Neither does my father. It doesn’t make any sense how I would be related to Darian, but they wouldn’t be.”
Anahi nodded and smiled. “Well, that’s ta do with the manifestations. So many people these days descend from Darian, but not all o’ them get the black line or the manifestations. Ya ask me, that’s an answer only the Orijin can give…who gets em an’ who doesn’t. If ya have the black line, yer whole family descends from Darian, or one o’ yer parents anyway. It’s just that ya were chosen as a child ta bear the Mark. Remember, my brother got the Mark an’ I didn’t. Same situation. Happy now, fool boy?”
Baltaszar smiled. They’d both forgotten to start eating. He cut into the steak and stuffed a big piece in his mouth. It was seasoned differently than the one he’d eaten for breakfast. This one was a bit spicier with hints of garlic and mustard. He washed it down with a sip of wine, which was dry but very fragrant and tasted of berries, with a touch of spice. It went extremely well with the food.
Anahi eyed him, “Ya like it, I see. I thought ya would. This is my favorite meal.”
Baltaszar was about to speak, but his mouth was full again. For the remainder of the meal, he and Anahi sat and glanced back and forth at one another, smiling from time to time. It was an innocent flirtation. Baltaszar knew he wouldn’t do anything, and he understood that Anahi respected his feelings for Yasaman enough to not make any advances.
Once they finished eating, Anahi rose from the bed.
“Are you leaving already?” Baltaszar stood in response.
She walked to him, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. “We both know that it is best for me ta leave. Ya would be wise ta wake early. You’ll be travelin’ on the road, out in the open. The king’s soldiers are very unpredictable with how they scout, though they don’t normally come up this far. Ya should be well on yer journey by late mornin’. At least that way, ye’ll have yer wits about ya by the time they’re up an’ ready. I hope fer yer sake that Horatio is better with fightin’ than with manners. At least ya won’t be alone though.” Anahi pulled his head close and kissed him on the cheek.
“An’ do me a favor, Baltaszar. Well two favors. When ya have a chance, go back to…wherever it is yer from an’ talk to Yasaman. Figure things out one way or another. Not for my sake, but fer yers. It’ll drive ya crazy the longer ya go on without knowin’ what the situation is.” She looked him straight in the eyes.
“All right, I promise, I will. What else?”
“The second favor is silly, but fer yer own good. When ya find yerself deep in thought, please don’t keep makin’ those funny faces. I don’t mind ‘em because I find ‘em amusin’ an endearin’, but no one will take ya seriously when ya puff up yer cheeks like that and stare off inta space. Or when ya twist up yer mouth all crazy. Yer not a very scary Descendant.”
Baltaszar chuckled. “You know, I never really realized that I do that until now. Fine, I will make a conscious effort to avoid that. Is that all?”
“One more thing. Be safe. Please. I don’t get too attached ta visitors at the Elephant, but yer nice. An’ genuine. An’ I care. Please just don’t let me find out in a few days or weeks that some handsome brown-skinned Descendant was killed on his way ta the House o’ Darian, along with his silly friend Horatio, who talked too much.”
Baltaszar bit his lip and nodded solemnly at the request.
Anahi hugged him tightly. In an instant, she let go and left the room, glancing back at Baltaszar one more time before closing the door.
One piece of advice. Once you leave, keep a clear mind at all times.
Shut up. Leave me alone.
Chapter 9
Tower of the Blind
From The Book of Orijin, Verse One Hundred Thirty-Five
The mind will see what the eye cannot begin to fathom.
Two islands sat within the Eye of Orijin, the giant lake that bordered Cerysia, Galicea, Mireya, and the Never. The Tower of the Blind had been built on the southernmost island, mainly because of its proximity to all of Ashur. The island itself had five docks, located at each of the outermost points of the island. Roads led from each dock straight to the tower at the center of the island. The Tower had been a welcoming place from the time of its inception a few hundred years after Darian’s death.
Garrison hated that most people assumed Gideon, one of the Five Harbingers, had built the tower, just because of his ability with stone. It was one of those rumors that would never go away, even amongst educated people. The truth was that the tower had been built by the ancestors of Galiceans. Even modern Galiceans were master builders and craftsman, as evidenced by the wall erected at their border with Fangh-Haan. But the Tower of the Blind was a true marvel, a sight that everyone should see at least once in their lives, just like the Stones of Gideon.
The Tower was so tall that on cloudy days, one could not see the top of it. Its exterior had been created solely of grey, unpainted stone. To this day, people could only speculate how the builders were able to bring the stone to the island.
The entire structure was cylindrical and nearly three hundred feet wide. Garrison supposed it had to be so big in order to house a few hundred Blind Men and their servants. Even now, sitting in the front of the wagon on the road toward the Tower, Garrison had to crane his neck upwards in order to see the top of it, though with the sun having just set, the top was difficult to see. Rows and rows of windows lined the building. As a boy, Garrison had come to the Tower with his mother to visit her uncle, a Blind Man, and he wondered why there would be windows. In truth, for each Blind Man living in the Tower, there lived at least three servants. Servants of the Blind were treated quite well, but they required extreme patience and dedication. Surely the windows were there more for the servants than the Blind, or Augurs, as they were formally known. But even the Blind Men and Women enjoyed the natural sunlight to anything artificial.
Garrison and his Taurani companions reached the base of the Tower. The road led directly up to the high wooden doors at the entrance. The doors were twice the height of a tall man, made of a cherry-hued wood, and in them the symbol of the Blind was carved, a man’s face with closed eyes, and on the forehead, an open third eye. The face itself was expressionless, with no hair atop the head. Garrison remembered the symbol from
the time he was a child. It had always raised the hair on his skin and neck when he saw it or thought of it. The symbol did not elicit fear in him, more a feeling of reverence. Garrison had the deepest respect for anyone who was born with such a severe limitation, yet lived such a scholarly and almost regal life.
Dozens of white-robed servants flocked to Garrison and the Taurani to greet them. Although he hadn’t been to the Tower in years, all the servants greeted him by name, but without the title of ‘Prince’, in various accents. Could they have gotten word already? The servants helped each of them from the wagon and hurried the two injured Taurani, Yorik and Kavon, away into the Tower. They then collected Garrison’s pack and the rest of the belongings and ushered Garrison and Marika inside.
Although Garrison had never personally known any of the servants, he knew much of their background and history. He supposed that was one of the benefits of being a prince. In his lifetime, Garrison had traveled through most of Ashur and in the past few years, he’d read dozens of books, especially on the history of Ashur.
The servants of the Blind were, on the surface, very humble, friendly, and good-natured. They were genuinely good people; Garrison knew they had to be if they were willing to dedicate their lives in the service of the Blind. However, beneath the surface, the servants were some of the most lethal fighters on the continent. Garrison had never seen any of them fight, but he had read dozens of stories in which a servant had to protect a Blind Man. Once a man or woman accepted the white robe of a Blind servant, they were sent to Fangh-Haan to be trained to fight. Fangh-Haan was the home of the Anonymi.
According to legends, the Anonymi predated the Drowning of the World. They were a clan of warriors who had existed even before the time of Darian and the others of the Five. From generation to generation, the Anonymi passed their knowledge and wisdom of fighting only to accepted members of the clan.
Once the Tower of the Blind had been built, every nation signed a treaty agreeing that the Tower was immune to all wars and battles. No violence could be conducted on its grounds, as the punishment for such offenses was death. Even the throne supported these laws, though Garrison wondered whether his father would make exceptions if they suited his tastes.
