Blood [Epic of the Mediterranean

An Enemy by Faith

BACTRA, THE CAPITAL CITY OF BACTRIA, 

THE PERSIAN EMPIRE

The palace observed as the adversary hostage was hauled down the halls to meet her fate by the Lord’s hands. Raising and falling of positions and pride wasn’t a new phenomenon, neither was the play of disgrace and death by the hands of the dominant one. They had to entertain the public by the showcasing their strength.

Amid the sounds of glass bangles and stone jewelry, whispers were eminent. This was because no one was to speak about the Kinkha mistress who was abducted and enslaved, at least not beyond the palace walls. Yet, the disbelief among the servants and ministers couldn’t be veiled for the Lord had never before bought a slave as such. Even though s*****y was prominent within the lands with some influential traders mingled in the game. Irrespective of how much of a tyrant he was, never once had he taken his anger off on any servant, only the ministers and generals. Nor had any citizen of his state suffered an injustice from either him or the law. Only, the guilty received such brutal treatments that there were next to no crimes to begin with. Also, for it to be a woman from the house of a nemesis, what a miserable sight! And an even malicious fate.

Classic maroon Tabriz carpets covered the corridors as they rushed with her hands tied behind, tight enough to leave marks. Her head hung low for it still throbbed, and she made no effort in looking around either. What was the use anyway? This Lord would kill her on sight. As it turns out, he must be the one who had initiated the assassination. What purpose would he have to spare her? All the royalty in this land was alike, all they wanted being a discharge of their sadistic tendencies. God knew where Ziba was, that is, if she was alive in the first place. 

The General came to a halt in front of two closed doors. Lobby deprived of any company too, except for just one person that is. 

“Sure took you time”, said the Army Chief as he formally scanned all around them. No other militant had followed. No one else was ordered to come up in here. A small smirk formed on his expressions, conveying that he didn’t mean to mock him in any way, “Doesn’t matter though. Proceed, the master is waiting.”

“I can see, or why would you, out of anyone, be strained,” Dara frowned, being able to read him beyond what Chisti desired to exhibit, “Either way, it is easier said than done. I know very well just how much this would stir him.”

Chisti shrugged. “Why are you always like this.” He placed a finger between the scrunched eyebrows of the General, “Stop doing this. Someday, it is going to be a part of your features.” Dara instantly brushed off his hand in utter annoyance which made the other break into a chuckle before he pushed the doors open.

How sardonic, bloodstained faces discussing anger after playing a relentless fight.

“Lord, General Dara is here.”

The woman was hastily pushed into the green marbled floor, displacing the rugs which covered different corners.

With the lengths which her eyes could behold, the hall was vast and the entire wall on the far left where the bed stood replaced with a verandah. In the front was the sheesham chaise lounge with delicate gold embroidered red velvet sheets; right where the Lord rested in a casual site with his lashes roofing the slightly parted eyes. The light cream walls accompanied with silken curtains everywhere, refined woodwork and beautiful glass fittings was without a doubt, a grand showcase of the renowned Persian craftsmanship. Yet it couldn’t drive away the lifeless cool which held the chamber captive.

Asmaka took a deep breath before shifting into a sitting stance, allowing his bare feet to blithely touch the ground beneath, silver anklets on his feet being the only thing which created any disturbance in the sound. “What took you so long, Cye? I thought we’d enjoy a game, but you are running late”, a white marble horse was picked from the chess board laid down in front of him and clenched tightly in his fist which was just as fair in complexion, “By three days”. The flexing of his muscle did make Dara anxious about potential rage, however he didn’t waver in the slightest bit for that would have annoyed the royal master even further.

“Bring her here”, Asmaka crossed his legs as he fastened his lingering golden curls behind his head. A few coils still managing to escape artistically. Precisely framing his face. 

Dara made the captive kneel in front of the man before walking back to his original position.

“Show me your face”, he hissed but established no response as she refused to lift her head from the curtain of raven hair. This only resulted in her straight mane being pulled from the side as the Lord forced her to look at him. “This arrogance, you’ll have to change. What I say is what you do-”, he stopped on his remarks as an unexpected gasp left his mouth at the sight of the woman. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t just him.

An-Ki dithered at the distasteful view. It couldn’t be denied that he possessed inimitable beauty, but it was only a result of mixed blood. Of course, she had heard of him. A person who is unaware about his own heritage would never understand the importance of all that she had lost. Even so, the calm on her face remained still. She couldn’t bring herself to feel abhor. It was all in his eyes. It wasn’t because she was drawn by how beautiful they were, no, but the ocean of imprisoned emotions which they narrated to her. She was sensitive to the spirit of places and auras. Just a look into the amber flames of past agonies transfiguring into a hall of doom of forced restrain in the pupil gave an insight which baffled her. Perhaps, there was more to him than what met the eye. 

Asmaka turned back at Dara with an expression which the General failed to comprehend, “Why her?”

The question wasn’t expected as Chisti and Dara exchanged confused looks, “Master, the main family had four daughters. Ziusudra, was slaughtered by you,” Dara stopped briefly for he had overlooked how the Lord repelled even the mentioning of that man, “With his three sons and wife, Samiramis. As for the daughters and the main decadents, the first Lady Anunatum Khava, second Nakurtum Aya and youngest En-Hedu-Ana were all defeated. The separate library pavilion was approached the latest, the place from where the third daughter, An-Ki Naya escaped, the only survivor. You ordered for her to be brought alive, so we did.” Dara laid down the happenings orderly, failing to find the glitch which the Lord saw. An-Ki was twenty-four, closest to the master’s age, or was it that he expected to see a man? “None of the heirs were married, so there won’t be any concerning troubles either.” Dara hadn’t received a chance to report everything after the attack, hence now posed as a chance for him to clear it up.

Chisti was astonished at how accurate the General was about the details, but then again this wasn’t something new to him.     

“Ah, nothing”, Asmaka brushed off the question after a second of thought. He returned to the woman whose face ran overwrought after hearing it all. He scowled as he pushed her against the side table before kneeling to her level himself, making the vase upon it quiver.

“Seems like my men didn’t show you much hospitality, isn’t it correct”, he spared a glance at her tangled wrists as he forced in closer, his eyes curving up in cynical pleasures. “How insolent. I request for forgiveness on their end. Very well, I’ll tell you this in return, you won’t die”, his gaze traveled through the bruises from the struggle on Naya’s body as a barely noticeable, poisoned smirk stretched on his face, “Instead, how about I make you wish for it?” Naya shrugged. Either way, it didn’t matter. She had lost her purpose of life and the days to come weren’t something she longed to see anyway.

He brushed his knuckles against her cheekbone forcefully, “I don’t take away a lady’s honor and dignity. But you are no lady to me, just filth. I’ll do you however I want, and if you disobey, I’ll sell you to someone who would make it worse.”

She snickered, “At least I have an untainted ancestry to die in the name of.”

The Generals held their breath. It was clear what she had tried to imply. Only, the Lord possessed great perseverance, considering how he despised anyone mentioning his family.  

Asmaka’s refined jaw tightened with revulsion as he ran his finger roughly along her collar bone down to her arm before clasping it so forcefully that it made her shudder. For the first time since she had placed her feet inside the palace, she experienced fear. His eyes radiated such hatred that it triggered her balance. Still, it was as soulless as everything else she felt. The realization hit her hard, no wonder she was able to keep going even after the end of her own blood. It had dawned onto her like a dragger being pierced through consciousness. What this man in front of her had done, what he was or what he could do, nothing could bother her in the very least. At the most, he could become the carrier of death to her, and that couldn’t make her feel any dread either, for it is inevitable. Nothing in him moved her. But the awareness that she had lied to herself into believing that she was able to maintain and nurture a part of familial care within, which never existed to begin with, was something dreadful.

“How about this, I will make sure your pride shatters.”

Naya gripped the adorned hand in futile attempts to release her arm. The strength wasn’t something which was unexpected. He was one of the five powers which had facilitated in standing the current governance. Her face squirmed with resistance. Asmaka released the pure silken robes which now contained a cut from his ring. 

Standing up straight he walked back to the chess board and picked up the only black piece, a horse, confronting the unabridged white army, “How tragic. Your entire family was massacred before you and everything else ruined. Does it pain you, when I tell you that the person who stabbed your father to death was also me? When I create in front of you the image of my hands being painted crimson with your siblings’ blood?” Running a hand through the box of discarded pieces, he pulled out the black queen and placed it on the board, “When I tell you that you would be serving me as your master from now on? Don’t you think that switching the horse for the queen is quite humorous? Well, it’s only that I know it would be smashed either way, only, won’t it be generous to give it this status?” Asmaka walked towards the exit while signaling Dara to follow behind. 

The master halted briefly before leaving, his stern features being overcome by the repressed loath as his face twisted with rage and distaste, “I repel you with my every last breath.” 

***

“Are you doubting the army, master?”

“I have my faith in them, Cye. If you can’t trust your knights, then you fail the very first step of being a leader. Only, where else could it go?” Asmaka filled his palm with water before slowly dripping it over the small sapling in the garden outside his window.

“I don’t intend to agitate you, my Lord, but there could be a possibility that we failed to procure it from the palace,” Dara assumed.

“That makes it worse, for then it may pass onto next to anyone”, he stood up, rubbing off the particles of wet soil from his hands with the towel Dara extended. Asmaka knew that Dara would suggest putting a price on its procurement, for then people would start searching it amongst themselves. Secondly, it won’t be of that much prominence to anyone else to begin with, “But that is not the only thing on my mind.”

Dara sneered, “Did we do something undesirable?” Was it about the same question he had raised before?  

“It’s not about you. While gathering information about the bloodline of Kinkha, my informants dug out their history, not something of my curiosity whatsoever. But there was this eerie coincidence which can’t go overlooked”, he paused, “Xenokrates. You are familiar with him, right?”

“The boy whom you picked out of the Greek travelers. Your scholar who is always on the move”, Dara dearly wanted to add about how peculiar the informant was. He never got a chance to express how he found him mental stability dubious, but perhaps he should leave the question to some other day. Nonetheless, this was one of the reasons why Asmaka had allowed him a job in his army. After all, the Lord was fond of legends himself. He would listen to the nonstop bickering of the teen who only showed up occasionally for he was always around the empire. This also explained why people doubted him.

“I assigned him with the charge of gathering information while the plan was being laid down. He engulfed himself into their very roots back to Mesopotamia. He had found what he was supposed to, so of course I didn’t mind him. This was about two weeks back more or less. He visited the day before yesterday, too, and as usual wasn’t bothered the least about what was going on”, the one thing which Asmaka didn’t mention was how he got so exasperated at a point that Xenokrates was asked to live in the library for his entire stay. Nonetheless, the boy wasn’t bothered by that either!

“Anyhow, I was tired, so I asked him to come by my quarters. He spoke about this story which was connected to the history of ancient Babylonia. Something about a knight in the courts of Mesopotamia who was the jade, for his command was massive, without equal. He was the disciple of the head priest, a learned asipu and was the Decedent of God Enlil of the supreme winds and atmosphere. Now, if they named him this, then it means that he was an inheritor of the supreme knowledge of Mesopotamian tribe of Sumer. Even the voyagers from Susiana wrote about his gifted skills to control the elements of nature till an extent. He met his end while asleep, when the Persians conquered the regions, for he was the biggest threat. I think the General who led the m******e was prominent for treacheries.” The spiritual groups had narrowed the number of people who were allowed to gain the texts and knowledge for the more putrid the society went, the more manipulation there would be. 

“He was said to have a daughter, who survived only barely. Sumerians found it hard to live in their own motherland, and with her husband dead while fighting in the war, she had to independently raise both her sons in utter hardships. Neither she nor her sons were born to be the inheritors, nor were they able to procure the knowledge. The reason? When the borders were annexed, the family priest had taken with him the book of Enlil to the far south-west. Far, far away from the home in Babylon, in order to protect the unrestricted power to fall into the hands of the intruders. Some tale, isn’t it? Now, don’t you think the brothers seem familiar?”

The words of Asmaka left Dara dumbstruck, “There is always at least one child who inherits the ability to attain the spiritual chastity once in three generations at the longest”, he added after his Lord.

“And if this is true, then there might be a problem which we never took in consideration.” There was a long silence before the master spoke again with a confident smirk. “Very well, that is too farfetched though. Either way, none of the descendants are alive. So, it stops there”, Asmaka said with a sigh before proceeding to walk back into the palace for the night. 

There was just one more thing. Xenokrates had interpreted that, more or less, the book was renamed in the language of the land when it was relocated. And perhaps it was now none other than the famed Book of Thoth.