Blood in the Marsh (18 page)

Alkharad sighed wearily. “I am an old man and my body is weak. I have need of a young man, strong of limb. Surely, you must have some understanding of the infirmities of the old. Have you grandparents?”

Akmal smiled his understanding. “Yes, my grandfather also has difficulties. Often he needs assistance to stand or walk in the marketplace.”

“Then you do understand. I am glad. Now, would you be interested in my proposal?”

Akmal looked down at his beloved and saw her eyes light with excitement. To have a husband who was educated would bring her family much prestige. He turned to Alkharad and smiled. “I must ask permission of my father.”

“Yes, of course,” Alkharad readily agreed. “Please, introduce me and I will make the request myself.”

Akmal’s father listened to Alkharad’s proposal. “And just how much service would you require of my son? I have need of him to help in the gardens as well as the marketplace.”

“Merely a short time in the evening hours.”

Akmal’s father thought about it for a few moments then nodded. “Very well, my son will be waiting for you here tomorrow evening at the close of the day.”

Akmal smiled happily and bowed his head to Alkharad. Then he and his beloved helped his father with the cart. Alkharad watched as they disappeared down the street then returned to the room he had rented from an old woman.

All night he worked, preparing for the next day. By dawn’s first light, he was exhausted but satisfied. Lying down, he slept most of the day, rising in midafternoon. Shortly before the market was due to close, he walked to the meeting place. As promised, Akmal was waiting. In his hand was a basket of fresh vegetables and a loaf of fresh bread his mother had baked. With him was his beautiful young woman.

“Akmal, my young friend! Are you ready to begin?”

Akmal nodded enthusiastically. The thought of learning to read and use numbers was so exciting he had barely been able to sleep.

The day had seemed to stretch on forever until the market closed and now he was eager to get started.

Alkharad led Akmal and his young woman to his small room. “Tell me, my dear.” He smiled at the young woman as he opened the door. “Do you have a name?”

“Jamilla,” she said shyly, lowering her eyes.

“Jamilla, a name that means ‘lovely’.” Alkharad smiled. “And indeed you are, my dear. Akmal is a very lucky man.”

She blushed and followed them into the room. Akmal was surprised as he looked around. Aside from a small sleeping pallet on the far side, the room was bare except for a small table that stood beside the door. He saw no scrolls, no tablets, and no instruments of learning of any kind.

In confusion, he turned to Alkharad. “Sir, how are you to teach me? There is nothing here.”

Alkharad smiled and pulled a gourd from his robe. He picked up a cup from the small table and poured a draught of wine from the gourd into it then offered it to Jamilla. She accepted it and sat down on the floor, drinking thirstily. It was not often she was allowed wine and this wine was very sweet and flavorful.

Alkharad smiled and turned to Akmal, loosening the top of his robe to display a strange amulet. “Tell me, Akmal. Are you a man of faith?”

“Yes, of course!”

“I see.” Alkharad nodded thoughtfully as he pulled a flask from within the folds of his robe. “That is excellent. For you see, I, too, am a man of strong beliefs.”

He walked in a circle around Akmal, pouring liquid from the flask onto the floor.

“What is that you are doing?” Akmal asked as he watched.

“I am preparing our place of learning.”

“Our place of learning? But what is to be learned from a circle of red on the floor?”

Alkharad completed the circle then tilted the gourd to his lips. When it was empty, he tossed it aside and walked to the center of the circle to face Akmal. “You, Akmal, have been chosen to be the recipient of the highest knowledge. Before this night is ended, you will be a changed man. You will carry with you the answers man has sought since the beginning of time.”

Akmal swallowed nervously and looked over at Jamilla. She was slumped against the wall, apparently asleep. He turned back to Alkharad and swallowed nervously. Something in the old man’s eyes frightened him, making him want to flee. Yet his voice was strangely compelling and his words carried unspoken promises that filled Akmal with a strange excitement. Shifting from one foot to the other he looked into the old man’s eyes.

“What answers?”

Alkharad reached inside his robe again and pulled a small jeweled flask. “First we must seal our bargain.”

Opening the flask, he took a drink then handed it to Akmal. Akmal looked at it for a long moment then accepted it. Hesitantly he touched it to his lips, unsure as to what was inside.

“Come, my young friend,” Alkharad encouraged him. “There is nothing in the drink to harm you. As you see, I myself have partaken of it. Believe me, Akmal, I would see no harm come to you. You are the man I have been searching for. Now, drink and know all the answers.”

Akmal turned the flask up and let the liquid fill his mouth. It was warm and slightly thick, tasting both sweet and bitter at the same time. He swallowed and returned the flask to Alkharad.

Alkharad smiled up at the young man. “Now we are ready to begin. Tell me, how do you feel?”

Akmal tried to open his mouth to tell Alkharad that he felt unusually warm and as if his feet were not firmly planted on the ground. Fear gripped him in a tight vise as he realized he could not open his mouth. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to make his body obey his commands, but no matter how much he tried he could not do so much as blink his eyes. His body was frozen in place as if made of stone.

Alkharad smiled triumphantly and stepped back. “Yes, now we are ready.”

He walked over to where Jamilla lay on the floor and rolled her over onto her back. Her eyes were wide and he could see the terror within their brown depths. He smiled as he pulled her robes up, baring her young nubile body.

Akmal wanted to scream and rush to Jamilla but he could not make his body move. Horrified and sickened he watched as the old man parted his robe, displaying himself. Tears ran down Akmal’s face as he watched Alkharad spread Jamilla’s tender thighs and stab himself inside her.

Alkharad watched the fear in the young girl’s eyes, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse roar in his ears. He lowered his face to her neck, rolling her head to one side.

Akmal could see Jamilla’s eyes and knew that she was under the influence of whatever drug was in the drink the old man had given her. He prayed that the drug would also deaden any pain she felt. A silent scream echoed in his mind as he saw the old man pull a slender dagger from his robes and raise it above Jamilla’s breast.

Blood gushed from the wound, drenching the old man and Jamilla. Alkharad groaned as if in ecstasy and leaned down to lap at the blood. He raised his head and placed his bloodied lips against hers.

Akmal was sure his eyes were deceiving him for he thought he saw a bright flare of light pass from Jamilla to Alkharad. A moment later Alkharad withdrew his now withered erection from her and turned to face Akmal.

Akmal felt a chill like the cold of the grave descend on him. A strange red glow began to light Alkharad’s skin.

Something, a forgotten memory, pricked at Almal’s mind. Images swirled inside his head. Just as he thought the visions, he felt a hot air swirl around his ankles, working its way up his body like a whirlwind, searing his skin. His heart pounded in his chest and sweat poured from his body as his fear escalated. Alkharad looked up at him with the glowing eyes of a demon. Akmal prayed to be saved from whatever was about to come, but no god came to his rescue. Alkharad’s voice rolled like thunder in his mind, his incantation in a tongue Akmal did not know. The strange words made his soul cringe and his mind scream for help.

Suddenly he felt a feeling lightness come over him, as if he were weightless. Amazed beyond belief he felt himself leave his body. One moment he was standing frozen like a living statue and the next he was looking down on himself. He saw his body standing in the middle of the circle, his robes whipping around him as if he was in the midst of a storm with his long hair wrapped around his head and neck like a black cloak. He could see the terror in his own eyes yet felt nothing.

Then he felt a presence beside him. Turning his attention, he saw a spectral image. Nebulous and unformed, it hung just below the ceiling like a dark cloud. Without understanding how, Akmal recognized the image as the spirit of Alkharad.

“I thank you, Akmal.” Alkharad’s voice sounded all around him. “Your gift is most generous.”

Abruptly Akmal was back inside a physical form. He blinked several times, sure that his eyes were deceiving him, for his body was still standing in the center of the room. Blinking again, he realized he could move and lifted his hands to rub his eyes. As he raised his hands, his eyes widened and a scream erupted from his mouth.

“I must be mad! This cannot be!”

The body that had once been his turned and looked at him, laughing. “No, you are quite sane, my friend.”

Akmal staggered and fell to the floor beside Jamilla’s torn and lifeless body. His heart was beating so fast he was sure it would explode and his breath was labored and ragged. He looked down at his hands, saw the spotted, wrinkled skin and gnarled veins, and closed his eyes. “This cannot be. It must be a dream. Such things are not possible!”

Alkharad laughed and knelt down. “All things are possible, my old friend. Is that not what your religion has taught you?”

Akmal felt a searing pain in his chest and gasped. “But how…why?”

“I’m quite amazed that you don’t know.” Alkharad sat down and crossed his legs, delighted by the strength and agility of his new body. “But perhaps your memories have not returned, so I will explain. My body had grown old and weak. I was in need of a new one. I must say that I had almost given up hope of finding such a marvelous one as yours. It is fortunate that I left Syria when I did, is it not? For had I not left I might not have happened upon you like this. Now not only do I have your wonderful body but I am one step closer to gaining that which we all crave.”

“I do…I do not understand.” Akmal wheezed, his breath becoming more labored and difficult.

“Of course you do.”

“No. I do not. Please, do not let me die this way.” Akmal fell back, his chest a white-hot mass of pain. “Why have you done this to me?”

Alkharad stood and smiled down at the young spirit imprisoned within the form of the old man. “I have done nothing that we did not bargain for. Now, if you will excuse me, I will take my leave. This is a big world, Akmal. There is much I have yet to do.”

Akmal tried to push himself up but the pain was too great. He reached out and touched the hem of Jamilla’s robe. “My beloved,” he gasped weakly. “If there is indeed a god let it be a god who understands vengeance and let him grant me this one wish. To avenge you and send Alkharad to whatever hell spawned him.”

His body convulsed as he was seized by another pain. Sudden insight flooded his mind, providing knowledge more vast than he would have thought to seek. Before it could fully register in his mind, his body failed and he was no more.

Lyra stopped and looked at Nick. For a few moments neither one of them said a word then she closed the diary and took a deep breath. “God, this isn’t what I expected at all. Lucius never talked about anything like this. This is…is too incredible to be real. And how does the story of Akmal and Alkharad tie in with the Benei Elohim. What’s he trying to say?”

Nick shook his head and stood. “You’re supposed to be the expert on this kind of thing.”

He walked across the room then turned and looked at her. She was staring down at the diary with a strange expression on her face. He returned and sat down beside her. “What are you thinking?”

She didn’t answer. He touched her lightly on the arm. “Lyra?”

“What?” she looked up suddenly.

“You want to read the rest of the diary?”

She almost said yes, but something stopped her. She did want to read the diary, every word of it. But she wanted to do it alone. Suddenly she was filled with certainty that no one should read the words but her. Particularly not Nick.

“Not now. I think we’ve had enough for one night. How about we go watch a mindless movie and relax? We can start on the diary in the morning.”

“But I think we should—”

“Not tonight.” She gave him a strained smile. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Thanks. I’m going to run upstairs and take a quick shower and I’ll be back down in a few minutes.”

She ran up the stairs as he went into the den. Once in her room she put the diary behind the massive headboard of the bed, then pulled out a soft cotton shift from her bag and ran into the bathroom. After showering and dressing she combed her hair, went back to the bedroom, and checked to make sure the diary was safely hidden.

Satisfied that it was safe, she went downstairs to the den. She stopped as her eyes fell on Nick. He was lying on the couch. His shirt was unbuttoned and his feet were bare, one leg thrown over the sofa’s back

“Where’s Michael and Chelsey?”