Once a year, for two months, a very strong and dangerous storm front formed over Iazaresh. The intensity of the bad weather was not something that the locals took lightly, it could have lasted for a few days or weeks, raging over the territory causing flooding in the driest areas and slowing down trade activities both on land and at sea. Every year they prepared to take action, just as they wanted to limit the damage, the same went for human lives which, unfortunately, never failed to be claimed by the brute force of nature.
Sadin was also worried, not because of the bad weather, but because Basim had not yet arrived at their usual appointment.
That delay made him suspicious, even if on the one hand he felt he was perhaps exaggerating, he couldn't shake the feeling that something might have happened to him.
“There's no point in waiting, I'll go look for him” he decided at a certain point.
He hurriedly left the port and rushed to the inn, not knowing what to expect.
Tura was a normal port city, but it was precisely for this reason that it also made it a den of thieves, scoundrels, and cutthroats, he knew this because he had had the "pleasure" of doing favors for that type of lords more than one time. However, it wasn't the pickpockets or bandits that worried him in that case, but rather the slave traders who hid behind the fa?ade of fake employers; he had heard too many stories of people missing in those parts, surely forced onto one of those ships to be sold in a foreign land. He hoped that Basim hadn't ended up in their hands… he tried not to immediately think of the worst until he saw the gravity of the situation.
<< A boy with curly hair and blue eyes? No, never had anyone like that here. >> The innkeeper told him when he asked for him.
Sadin's heart sank, his worries had just taken root.
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<< He probably gave you the name of the place wrong. There are many taverns in the city and foreigners often get confused. >>
“Liar, I suggested him to come here.” Sadin thought frustrated.
He had already sensed something suspicious in that man when their eyes had briefly met, and now that he had lied to him shamelessly proved that he had been right.
<< Well, if he were to pass by here... when you see him, can you tell him that I'm looking for him? >>
<< Little boy, I run an inn, I'm not a messenger. Unless you want to rent a room, you better get out of the way, do you understand? >>
Sadin glared at the man, obeying his order.
The innkeeper went back to working quietly, whistling nautical tunes; he dusted, aired the rooms, stocked up on food and drinks in the kitchen, counted the week's takings, and threatened a customer with kicking him out if he didn't pay the rent. As a final task, he left the garbage to be thrown away, one of the few chores he hated doing. Remains of spoiled food, contents of spittoons, piles of ash, and other waste were collected inside large barrels that temporarily occupied the narrow alley behind the building, releasing their mephitic odor away from the noses of the customers, at the end of the day he would take them to an area used as a landfill where he allegedly set it on fire; if he was lucky he would be able to convince someone to get rid of that rubbish for him... better yet, he could try to pass it off as pig mash.
He dragged a barrel into the alley, complaining about its heaviness. The container tipped over the doorstep and fell with all its weight onto his feet; his curses were covered by the blowing of the wind and the shutters of a window that continued slamming. With all that noise he didn't feel the presence coming behind him, moving softly like a cat, continuing to work unaware of what was about to happen to him.
Too late he noticed the swift shadow darting over him, a muffled groan escaped his lungs and the barrel he had taken so much care to empty carefully fell to the ground with a thud. With a sudden and lightning-fast blow, the attacker directed his kick at the innkeeper's most sensitive spot; i.e. the genitals. A sob of pain came out low as a peep as he leaned forward trying to catch his breath, but the menacing silhouette of a dagger blade further knocked the air out of him.
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He grabbed the man by the hem of his shirt and placed the blade on his neck.
He pressed lightly and a drop of blood slid down from the thin cut of flesh that went slightly above the edge of the dagger. The innkeeper shivered, he wanted to scream but the pain in his lower parts was stronger than the desire to scream for help. He desperately tried to understand who the hell that kid was... he wasn't just a brat, his gaze was as sinister as that of the bounty hunters who had stopped on his property and whom he understood it was best not to anger. But he was a kid! How could a half-breed bastard instill so much fear in him?
<< Speak damn it! Or it will be worse for you! >>
<< I don't know! They took him away a week ago! >>
<< Who?! >>
<< Someone I work for! He pays me to give him information about the people who come to Tura! >>
<< Give me a name, now. >>
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<< If you don't do it, you're dead anyway, and I assure you that I will make you suffer more than your so-called boss will. Slowly, cutting yourself off one piece at a time. >>
<< I fear the wrath of his sword more than that of the Gods. >>
<< Okay, whatever you want. >>
The innkeeper was overwhelmed by an intense, indescribable burning sensation on the left side of his neck, accompanied at the same time by an unpleasant sensation of wetness. He put his hands around his neck, blood dripping from all sides like the wine the customers poured into their mugs, staining his chest and arms dark red. He wasn't mortally wounded, and he wasn't going to die, but in that moment he felt like every inch of skin on his neck was tearing off one piece at a time with every breath and movement he made. He needed to close it or sew it up, stop that unusually hot gushing at any cost. He saw Sadin raise the dagger to the sky, there was no emotion in his eyes. That blank stare was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen in his life.
<< The general! The guy I work for is General Jabar! >> he suddenly shouted, before the weapon could stab him.
Sadin stopped, looking at him in disbelief.
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<< Yes! Yes! He told me that he was looking for your friend and when I saw him, I informed him immediately! He didn't tell me the reason, but he paid me very well! He had recommended that I keep an eye on him until he came to get him! >>
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<< No, he…! I only know that he was looking for it, but not on behalf of the kingdom...! I think it's because of his secret "business"... >>
<< Are you kidding me? What kind of business would that be? Look, if you're lying to me, I'll cut your balls! I swear! >>
<< I'm serious! And I don't know anything else about it! I limit myself to being his informant! I don't know his plans! >>
Sadin was more confused than before, what did General Jabar have to do with Basim now if justice wasn't involved? He racked his brains, trying to find meaning in that confession until a terrible suspicion came to him.
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<< Yes, exactly. >>
<< Everything? >>
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Sadin cursed, perhaps he understood why Jabar was so interested in Basim. It was just a hunch, but his sixth sense was rarely wrong.
The innkeeper was threatened with keeping his mouth shut if he valued his tongue as well as his life; he walked out of the alley.
He ran through the streets of Tura laboriously climbing the slope, all the while thinking of a plan on how to save Basim. However, he found it difficult to think about what to do, his thoughts overlapped with each other, and it seemed that even the bad weather wind, which at that moment had reached the peak of its strength, was throwing his ideas into turmoil like a pile of helpless sheets of paper at the mercy of an air current. And suddenly the first problem immediately arose: where had they taken Basim? Standing in the middle of an intersection, where each route led to a different part of the city, he wondered which way he should go. North? South? East? West? He had no idea what the right direction was and if he had unfortunately taken the wrong one, he would have ended up moving away from him, rather than closer. Uncertainty assailed him, it was a horrible sensation that he wasn't used to and that the fear and confusion amplified. He had been in many places, even here in Tura and he could say that he knew it quite well... but in that moment, the way he felt, it seemed as if he was lost in an unknown place and in which he did not recognize anything familiar. He felt like crying, and even though he managed to hold back his sobs, he was unable to chase away the cold, numerous tears that clouded his vision. Luckily there was no one on the street, if someone had seen him in that state, he would have been very mortified.
“Get a hold of yourself, you idiot! This is not the time to be a baby!” he said unconvinced to himself.
As much as he blamed himself for that moment of weakness, he just couldn't calm down. He thought of his uncle, who would immediately do his utmost to reassure him and help him, as he always had done…. and from whom he now missed the warm and tight hugs that he had always considered excessive.
“Catch your breath. Use your brain. What can you do to find Basim without running around wasting time? You can ask for information… see if anyone has noticed anything, for example. But who to ask? If the General is involved, and they all act like the innkeeper, I will likely find a thousand mouths sewn shut." He reflected further, aware that no one would speak if the threat of such a powerful person weighed on their shoulders.
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The information that Sadin had on the General was the same that everyone knew, but perhaps he was one of the few who had realized his threatening importance for the empire... and if he also had dark secrets that made him act without the awareness of the kingdom, then there was reason to worry. What had that man said? That he was looking for Basim for certain "business". He certainly knew about the Yasirpipe if anything had been taken out of his room.
<< I can do it. >> he said to someone out loud. << It's not an impossible mission. I escaped from prison, after all. I just have to behave as I always have: be smarter and more careful than others. >>
He dried the last tears and looked around, even though there continued to be different roads around him, this time he knew which direction to take. He walked back the way he had come, this time running with confidence and with a precise idea of ??what to do. His fear was still there, but he kept it under control and intended to face it head-on, giving him the motivation to overcome the challenge he was about to face.
The slums of Tura, in addition to being a receptacle for shady deals and crime, were also the best source of information.
Sadin, despite being a regular visitor to that environment, knew he had to be cautious. He was still a kid and some people would have no qualms about hurting him.
He meticulously searched for people to ask about the General or unusual movements in and out of the city. He didn't have much luck at first, everyone he questioned said they didn't know anything and, in some cases, it was clear that, instead; they knew something but chose to remain silent to preserve their safety, not even the incentive of money was able to make them open their mouths. Despite the lack of news, his purse slowly emptied, as many of his coins ended up in the lying hands of those who took advantage of them. On another occasion he would have immediately kicked those bastards, he didn't like being made fun of, but now he didn't have the time. After every interrogation he looked over his shoulder; In those parts, they didn't like people who asked questions, and if he had asked the wrong person there would have been big trouble for him.
The evening fell like a black veil over the neighborhood, the wind had stopped blowing some time ago and the silence that followed made the atmosphere eerily quiet. Sadin, with the hood of his cloak pulled down, walked cautiously through the dimly lit alleys, trying to move stealthily so as not to arouse suspicion. The few passersby on the street looked at him for a second and then ignored him, but for Sadin, tense as he was; those looks weighed like boulders. For all he knew, anyone could jump on him at any moment and cut his throat. Suddenly a group of people from a tavern laughed out loud, Sadin's heart sank and he immediately tightened his hand on the hilt of the dagger, flattening himself against a wall, investigating the origin of that loud laughter. He remained hidden until his heart calmed, regaining his composure. He had no memory of being as nervous as he was then.
Finally, after a day and a half, his research bore fruit: someone spoke about the General.
The source told him that he had seen a man who looked like him renting carts that had been filled with supplies to distribute to poor villages on the road back to Baharmis, but he said the quantity was too small to satisfy the number he had given, so there was something behind it. Sadin asked the informant several times if he was certain that he was going toward Baharmis, he confirmed it repeatedly until he became angry.
And so, using up his last savings, he bought a sturdy horse and set off in pursuit. He didn't take the time to prepare adequate supplies or find other sources that confirmed the indication received, he relied on luck and instinct while he made the beast gallop day and night to reach his goal; at that moment nothing could have stopped him, not even sandstorms or ambushes by raiders. There were so many days' distance between them, that he allowed his steed and himself few stops unless they were near villages in which to ask for news of the caravan. Finally, one day he managed to reach them, luckily it had stopped near a village and they didn't seem about to leave again anytime soon.
“Hold your enthusiasm, old boy. We still must make sure it's him," he said to himself, trying not to get caught up in the heat.
Sadin entered the village cautiously, moving on tiptoe between the stone houses. A huge oddity immediately caught his eye: there were no women or children, they were all adult men whose appearance was anything but that of poor, starving peasants. Another strange fact came from the houses which had a dilapidated appearance typical of a place abandoned for a long time and for people who needed supplies, wheat fields and game didn't seem to be lacking in those parts, much less water.
“It's all a sham, these are not real poor people.” thought Sadin, as he remembered the informant's statement about Jabar's so-called noble gesture of wanting to help the poor.
He was increasingly suspicious of the matter, starting to think that perhaps there was something much bigger behind it than just Basim's kidnapping.
There were six large, covered wagons outside the village, watched by soldiers walking around them. A little too excessive in terms of control, if it was only about food. Sadin, the volcano of ideas that he was, had already thought about how to distract them; the houses in the village were so old and worn that some were supported by large wooden poles aimed at the external walls or internal ceilings. You didn't have to be an engineer to understand that if those supports were removed, they would collapse in an instant, and that was precisely what he hoped would happen when he began to remove them from a building in which a small group of men were playing dice. After a lot of work and a lot of fear of being discovered, the small building collapsed on its occupants, raising a lot of dust and above all a lot of confusion, his favorite combination. Everyone set out to help them or just see what had happened, allowing Sadin to inspect the carts one after the other.
And finally, he found him: Basim.
The blue eyes of both met in a long moment of emotion and amazement, sparkling like freshly carved sapphires. Sadin had to keep himself from screaming with happiness, biting his tongue forcefully. Basim was fine, thank goodness, but he was chained like an animal hand and foot with chains and his mouth was gagged with a filthy dark yellow cloth. He jumped in and took it from him, he couldn't wait to know how he got into this mess.
<< You have no idea how happy I am to see you, but you must leave immediately. If they find out they'll kill you. >> he told him, worried for his safety.
<< You're crazy if you think I'll leave you alone after all the effort I put in to find you. >> he replied, while he tried to free him.
The padlocks turned out to be tough nuts, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the locks to click, only managing to break his burglary tools. Basim begged him to stop, warning him that even if he managed to free him, he would not be able to run, due to a medicine that made him so sick that he could barely move.
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<< Jabar himself said it, it's a precautionary method in case I manage to free myself and I assure you it's powerful stuff. The next day my head felt like it was going to explode. >>
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<< He lied to me. He said he had come to save me but he wanted the Yasirpipe... and like a fool, I told him that I learned to play it and now he wants to force me to teach it to some Sand Masters who work for him. >>
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Suddenly there was another collapsing sound and more shouts, outside they were still dealing with the disaster caused by Sadin. Which meant a few more minutes.
<< I hope I misunderstood...But I fear that Jabar will focus on the assassination of Fawzi. >>
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<< I don't have proof, but I'm sure it's like this. He knows too much about the Yasirpipe to have never seen it before. >>
<< Man, if that were the case it would be shocking. Have you heard anything else interesting? >>
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Two men's voices approached the cart, arguing animatedly. Before Jabar, his face partially covered by a frayed veil could peek inside, Sadin had already put the gag back on Basim and was hiding among the crates that occupied the rest of the space. Sadin could not see him, but he knew that such a famous and probably dangerous man was there near him, one step away from being discovered; he made his heartbeat. The man didn't seem to suspect anything and went back to talking to the other stranger, resuming the lively discussion which was of importance to both.
<< You are certain that we would not have problems at the border. >> the stranger asked the General.
He had an accent different from theirs, which did not belong to any area of ??their region.
<< You have no reason to worry, it will be like mowing a wheat field. >> replied the General with a slightly annoyed tone.
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<< In three weeks I think, we have to get around the desert first. >>
The two boys exchanged a worried look, they didn't like the meaning of the speech and where it was going.
<< Remember, it must be a strong attack that does as much damage as possible. I don't want you to waste your time raiding or kidnapping women. >>
<< Eh, what kind of raid would it be without taking something? >>
<< Do what you want, but if you don't make it to the set date, I will make sure that the vultures feast on your entrails while you are still alive. >>
<< Of course... we will be on time. >>
The boys shuddered at the tone the man had used to utter that grotesque threat.
<< There is one thing I don't understand; why do you want your kingdom to be attacked? >>
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<< Yes, I said it. But now I'm curious. >>
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<< You call us barbarians, but you are the one who gave us the information to attack your people. Who is the real barbarian among us? >>
Jabar didn't answer, who knows if it was because he was looking for the right words or if, instead; it was because he was contemplating cutting their throats. After a few minutes, he answered:
<< It is the winners who decide who the barbarians are, therefore; try to win for your good. >> and then he walked away, shouting to someone what state the injured in the collapse were in.
Basim and Sadin were shocked, in disbelief to their ears. There was no trace of error, it wasn't a misunderstanding, they had exactly understood the terrible meaning of that speech. Those people intended to attack the capital and the General would have allowed them to do so, apparently without a valid reason.
“They want to attack my house.” Basim thought in shock.
The bloodiest fantasies formed in his mind, horrible prospects if that plan succeeded. His family, his friends... without the full army there was no escape for them, nor for the rest of the inhabitants who would have found themselves at the mercy of ruthless brigands who would not have been satisfied with just raiding the jewel of the kingdom. Once the frenzy clouded their senses, making them numb to guilt and pity like an exciting drug, they would turn Riakesh's most precious oasis into a lake of blood. He was crazy! Why did Jabar have to let him invade the kingdom? Basim just couldn't understand it, had he perhaps gone mad? Had an evil demon possessed him? He couldn't find an explanation for that unless he had something supernatural about it.
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They were both trembling, for the first time they felt small and insignificant in the face of the gravity of that situation. Basim thought about it and only one solution came to mind:
<< Prince Hazma. He is the only one who can help us. >>
<< Still with this story? >>
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<< No, I'm sure that his highness has nothing to do with this plan. I know we're going to Baharmis, somewhere on the edge of the kingdom, and he's worried the prince might find out. I think he wants to hide in those parts, even if I don't know where. I heard him mention a fort or something in passing. >>
<< Great, it will be even harder to find you this way. I don't want to do it... but I will listen to your plan. But sorry, what proof do I bring him? >>
<< The Yasirpipe is behind me. Take it. >>
Sadin's eyes widened and he shuddered.
Hesitant, he picked up the magical instrument, still in good condition. Basim told him to remove the bridge and then put it back so that it didn't look like it had been touched. He was sorry to have to break the instrument, it was an important object and perhaps he risked never making it play properly again. Sadin asked him if he was sure that that rectangular piece would be enough for the purpose, he insisted he was more than certain.
<< Go now, before they find you. >>
<< I can't abandon you, they will surely hurt you further. >>
<< They will do more to many people if we don't intervene first in some way. Do as I tell you Sadin; run towards Baharmis and warn Hazma of the danger. You're the only one who can do it. >>
Sadin wanted to protest, to try once again to free his friend, but Basim would have none of it and urged him to do the right thing. Reluctantly, he had to abandon it and escape before the barbarians discovered him. With his heart crushed by guilt, he galloped anxiously towards Baharmis, not knowing what the future had in store for him, for Basim, and the entire kingdom unaware of the danger looming over his head.
Many thoughts ran through his head, trying to connect them to what he had just discovered to make logical sense of the story.
This time it was no longer a question of fleeing or hiding, but of fighting and surviving.
[1]Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, belonging to a different lineage or civilization; therefore, foreigner. Or Belonging to a world that is far from our way of living and thinking and which compared to this is considered uncivilized, primitive, wild.
[2]The bridge, or ponticello, is a device used on stringed instruments, such as strings, basses and guitars, to attach and support the strings and allow them to vibrate freely to produce various sounds through the point in on which the strings themselves rest, the so-called bridge bone.