His stomach twisted at the thought that any day it could be destroyed by the barbarians. Who knows where they were now, wondering if they were still hopefully far away or dangerously close already. Throughout the journey he had looked over his shoulder, afraid of seeing himself chased by the barbarian horde. He hoped he was still in time, now his final destination, the royal palace; wasn't far away. The determination to deliver the message of danger was stronger than the pangs of hunger, he would have eaten a whole ox but he had to speak to Prince Hazma as soon as possible, and perhaps only then would he have allowed himself a sumptuous meal, provided that his highness was willing to listen to him. As expected, obtaining an audience was impossible and he only partially believed the justification that it was due to political commitments, Sadin did not miss the look the courtier gave him as he "kindly" asked him to come back another day, even if it sounded more like having to get out of the way.
“They can't wait even half a day.” Sadin thought frustrated.
Since following the rules didn't work, he would do it his way, and that is, he would go and speak directly to His Highness.
But that was easier said than done.
He studied all the accesses to the palace, looked for blind spots, and calculated the changing of the guard shifts without finding, unfortunately, no point in sneaking in through. He had to admit, he was well protected, it didn't surprise him that no one had ever tried to break in; this meant that he would be the first to achieve the record of intrusion.
“I'm joking, but I really don't see how I can get in here.” He thought disheartened.
He continued to walk around the edges of the walls, muttering to himself various ideas about how to get in and then criticizing himself about how stupid they were. Wandering he ended up moving away from the palace, entering the city again until he arrived near one of the canals that branched out inside it; he was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost fell into it and taking an unscheduled bath was the least of his needs. That canal was the only one that flowed near the outskirts of Baharmis the only boats that ferried there were mainly for the transport of goods and the water was slightly dirtier.
Too bad there wasn't even a stream passing inside the castle, Sadin thought; it would have been very easy to enter.
“Wait a second, maybe there's a ride.”
An idea popped into the boy's mind… a hypothesis more than anything else.
He walked along the canal inspecting it cautiously. After a while he found what he was looking for: it was a partially submerged sewer pipe. The water that came out was much dirtier and sometimes even foamy, the smell in that precise spot was acrid, and various rubbish floated around it before being carried away by the current to be collected by street cleaners. Sadin had remembered when, a few years ago, he had heard about this innovative system for disposing of human waste directly from the latrines, through a structure of ducts installed between the walls of the palace and then passing underground to the cesspools or directly into the rivers, without having to empty them by hand with buckets. Once he had stopped to observe the construction site, what had particularly struck him was the size of the tunnels... wide enough to allow an adult person to pass through. That's how he would sneak into the building, he would go through the sewers.
But, as decisive as he was, he was not at all enthusiastic about his idea and he had his good reasons.
<< I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with shit anymore. >> he commented nauseated.
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Hazma stared at the ceiling while the water still dripped on him, he was so tired he could have fallen asleep in there, on the warm tiles of the bathroom. The work of administering the kingdom was not something new for him, usually, he could carry on for a whole day without a complaint, but the mental tiredness of the last few months caused by a thousand worries and anger had undermined his resistance. There had been days when he had not wanted to get out of bed, sometimes he had lost his appetite and he had even lost his temper for no reason towards innocent servants. The doctors had recommended him to slow down his work pace and rest as much as possible, but it was by working that Hazma managed not to think about the things that irritated him, including the frustration of not having yet recovered the Yasirpipe.
He hadn't given up on the endeavor yet.
If it had not been for the needs of the kingdom and especially the imminent arrival of the season of Arnanoth, he would have continued to hunt Basim. If it had just been rain and wind, he wouldn't have even considered returning home, but a monsoon is not something to be taken lightly, especially that of Arnanoth. A cold shiver gave him the urge to get up and dry himself, he still had a lot of work to do, and lazing around wasn't allowed.
It was at that moment that he heard strange noises coming from the latrines. He investigated it curiously, wondering if what he felt wasn't due to some filling or to yet another mouse that had gotten under there by mistake. The noises gradually became more and more intense and suspicious, he wondered what the hell was going on down there to cause such a commotion.
Suddenly, “something” emerged from the toilet hole.
It was a vaguely humanoid mass of slimy dirt that climbed out of the hole, mumbling like a pot on the stove, and then stood upright on the ceramic floor, leaving a trail of disgusting juices in its wake. A nauseating odor filled the room, so pungent that the prince had to fight to keep his stomach under control. The creature shook itself, throwing gobs of dirt everywhere around it, and that's when it noticed Hazma. Two human eyes, barely visible beneath the filth, stared at the terrified prince, who took a step back, skidding across the wet floor as the demon… the monster… or whatever it was turned towards him. At that moment the prince was so shocked that he could not utter a word, not even to call the guards or ask for help - when he tried, all that came out of his mouth was a pathetic stammer similar to the gasp of a dying man. However, even in this state, Hazma was no coward, and his survival instinct spurred him to act. Quickly rising to his feet, the prince looked around, looking for something he could defend himself with. There were no weapons nearby, only an old broom forgotten near the door, he held it as if it were his sword and prepared to charge a body aimed at the "creature's" head.
<< Stop! I'm not an enemy! >> exclaimed the creature, moving back.
His voice was human, which made the prince calm down a little, and he stopped his assault - while keeping the broom between himself and his interlocutor. Looking at him better now that the surprise had subsided, Hazma realized that the one in front of him was neither a demon nor a monster, but simply a man covered in filth as if he had taken a bath in the sewers... which was very likely, given the place from which he had crawled out.
<< W-who the hell are you?! >> asked the prince, who had finally managed to recover his voice.
<< Someone who just wants to talk and I assure you it is for a valid reason. >>
<< Is this “reason” supposed to justify the fact that you crawled out of my toilet? >>
<< Yes, as absurd as it is. The thing is, I have to… wait, did you say your bathroom? >>
The man took a quick look at the room, immediately noticing the sumptuousness that characterized it with the mosaics on the walls, the towels folded in a corner, and the expensive soaps placed next to each other. His gaze lit up when I connected all those details to the person in front of him.
<
The man who came out of the toilet tried to approach the prince, opening his arms in a sign of peace, but Hazma stopped him immediately, holding the broom as if it were a pike. Even though he had more or less ascertained that the stranger was human, that didn't mean he wasn't a threat. And above all, the idea of ??having that mass of sewage approaching him was so disgusting that the prince refused to even consider it.
<< Stay Back!>> He threatened him. << Stop where you are! Don't you dare take another step towards me!>>
<< Hey… calm down! I do not want to hurt you! I have a good reason to be here!>>
<< I don't care what the reason is. You broke into my house and that's enough to send you to prison! >>
<< No! No! Listen to me! I didn't do it to hurt anyone or steal! I just want you to help me save a friend! He is in grave danger... in fact, we all are! >>
<< It's not by talking nonsense that you will avoid prison. At least have the dignity not to lie. >>
<< But I'm not lying! We are really in danger! General Jabar is in league with barbarians who will attack the city and he has no intention of stopping them and…! >>
<< What? What does the general have to do with it now?! Up to this point, you intend to talk nonsense! Guards! Guards! >>
Sadin cursed silently. If they sent him to prison, there would be no escape for Basim and Baharmis.
<< Please, prince, listen to me! It doesn't cost you anything, and someone who crawled through two sewer miles just to talk to you must have something important to tell you, right? So, I implore you, let me speak before you call the guards! If you do not do so, your life and that of many of your subjects, as well as that of my friend, will be in grave danger! >>
Hazma did not want to listen, at that moment Sadin's pleas fell on deaf ears.
Sadin then remembered the piece of the Yasirpipe and Basim's recommendation to show it to the prince.
He took it and showed it to him, telling him that this was the proof that he was telling the truth; that is, that Jabar, in addition to being ready to betray the kingdom; had Fawzi's magical instrument and was keeping it hidden for evil purposes.
Hazma, however, only gave a fleeting glance at that small rectangle, replying that it could have come from any instrument and therefore was worth nothing just like his words. Sadin didn't give up, he slid the bridge towards Hazma begging him to take a closer look. The prince had no intention of touching anything that had been in contact with that boy, but the curiosity to see what made that useless piece of wood so important prevailed.
He picked it up with his fingertips, examining it carefully without apparently finding anything that important... when suddenly he realized that hidden under the bridge there was actually "something". It was a writing; it was so small that it was difficult to notice it immediately and only from a certain angle could it be read. Hazma had to bring it very close to his eyes to be able to read the engraved words that said: “Curiosity is the first sign of intelligence”.
He read the words in Fawzi's voice, it was a phrase his Master always used to say. He remembered very well the first time he had heard him say it, the very first day he had been hired as his teacher, Hazma had always been a curious individual since he was a child, and this had not escaped Fawzi who had highlighted it as a positive prerogative. Hearing him say it made him feel special, which is why he had put a lot of effort into his studies, to satisfy himself and make his dear Master proud of him.
<< Did you know there was a writing? >> Hazma asked Sadin.
Sadin looked at him confused, not understanding what he was referring to.
He could have taken advantage of it and told him with a lie that he knew about that detail.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
He realized, though; that in his position lying to him could be counterproductive and at that moment he had to demonstrate to the royal scion that he could be trusted.
<
<< If you touched the Yasirpipe, why didn't you take it and bring it here directly? >>
<< If I had done so, I would have put my friend Basim's life at risk. >>
Basim? The potter turned musician? So, had Jabar found him? But why hadn't he warned him, then? Confused by what Sadin had said he asked:
<< What do you mean? >>
<< Jabar has taken him prisoner. He wants him to teach Sand Masters who work for him. I don't know why, but I'm sure it's nothing good. As I'm trying to tell you, he's planning to make a mess of enormous proportions. >>
Hazma stared at Sadin for a long time, scrutinizing him with an expression so serious that it made him resemble his father; in that layer of dirt, he finally began to see the person underneath it.
<< If you're desperate enough to get out of my bathroom, then no liar with any intelligence would do that, so you're honest. >>
<< Thank you! Thank you, Your Highness! Cancel all your commitments because I have a lot of stuff to tell you and we have very little time. >>
<< Take five minutes to take a bath. >>
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At the borders of the kingdom, in an isolated area where no road connected directly to the kingdom of Baharmis converged, an ancient fortress stood. First used as a prison and then a military post, it was definitively abandoned for many years without a new use being found, being forgotten over time. Jabar had claimed it as his property, turning it into a sort of secret lair where he organized projects regarding the kingdom and how to direct them behind the back of the royal family. Far from the eyes and ears of the Sultan, the General had obtained a low and intense control over the territory without his knowledge, having learned that it was often the actions carried out in the shadows that were most capable of influencing the opinions of the people and pulling the strings of politics. Sometimes, to revive the glories of its original use, they brought prisoners to be interrogated, mainly enemy spies and inconvenient political rivals.
One of his faithful soldiers warned him of the approach of a carriage; checking from one of the still intact turrets Jabar saw a cloud of dust heading towards the entrance door. He chuckled amusedly; he knew who it was. He couldn't wait to see his face and hear what he had to say, thinking it would be a fun sight.
Daysam, aboard the wagon, was yelling at the coachman to hurry up. He wanted to get down as soon as possible and face Jabar, in his hand he still held the letter that he had sent to him, now almost reduced to a shapeless ball and at any moment he would see for himself his authenticity. When he had read the contents, he had immediately thought of a stupid joke on his part, perhaps designed to dilute the dark mood on which he had recently made many comments. He had almost begun to tear up the letter when he stopped to think carefully and told himself that he couldn't be so foolish as to waste time with such games... and only then did he assimilate the meaning of the words: he had recovered the Yasirpipe and the boy. From the moment he decided to leave and throughout the journey, the doubt persisted in his mind like a thorn stuck in the skin that torments you relentlessly.
<< Jabar! Jabar! >> shouted the Rector once he got off the wagon.
His voice boomed loudly like thunder within the great inner blanket of the fortress, the stone walls vibrated with the loud sounds and could only be noticed by touching them.
<< My friend, welcome. How did the trip…? >>
<< Is what you wrote true?! Did you seriously find it? >>
Daysam was so impatient that he didn't give the General a chance to speak, shaking him by the shoulders as his eyes searched for answers.
No doubt trembling with impatience, Jabar thought it would be too cruel to make him wait any longer.
He led the way inside the structure, which was full of the most loyal guards, the gloomy rooms often lit only by small torches were organized to be, for example, armory rooms where armaments, including foreign ones, were collected or meeting rooms with maps that reported the movements of allies and spies. Many different things were done there, many of which were not understandable to the Rector. Daysam had been in there a couple of times and had always been surprised by the way Jabar had organized, being able to manage such a place despite all the commitments he already had on his hands and without being discovered was admirable. As they entered the heart of the fortress, the air began to become filled with dust and the sense of confinement became more oppressive, the outside world seemed to become further and further away with each step they took... perfect for isolating everything that was brought into that specific area. The old prison was still intact, even if most of the cells no longer had doors to bar the rooms and inside the few that could be closed the remains of the old "occupants" could be found. From the ceiling the light entered through a shapeless opening perhaps opened after a collapse, the pale beam of light illuminated the center of the hall which at that moment fell perfectly on a small group of Sand Masters intent on debating in front of the Yasirpipe.
Daysam pulled them aside abruptly so he could see the infernal contraption with his own eyes.
It was exactly as he remembered it: unusual.
The amazement, however, was the same as when he saw it for the first time in his school. He should never have doubted that Fawzi was behind the construction of such a strange object. If he were still alive, he would have had no qualms about putting him under pressure to have his secrets revealed and what absurd ideas had inspired him to such a project. He picked it up, and they both almost fell to the ground. It was heavy, yes, but for Daysam, who was weak due to his illness, it was like lifting a boulder.
<< Watch out! Do you want to break it right now? After all the effort I put in to get it back? >> Jabar scolded him.
<< Has anyone already tried to play it? >> Daysam asked the Masters present.
The group shook their heads, stating that it wasn't safe to handle something they didn't know.
<< Nonsense! It's like a musical instrument! What must be dangerous about it? >> retorted Daysam.
<< Listen to your colleagues, it is not safe to handle something you don't know. >> A voice stopped him.
Daysam looked up, realizing that there was someone alive in the cell in front of him.
It wasn't unusual for Jabar to bring people in there to interrogate them or make them disappear, but the "guest" in question was important to his interests too.
<< I remember you. >> the Rector said surprised, approaching the cell. <
Even though so much time had passed, Daysam had not forgotten about Basim.
The boy sat on the ground just behind the rusty bars, his hands and feet bound to prevent him from moving. It was him without a doubt, even if he looked more mature than the first time they met in his school as if he had lost that naive childishness and mediocrity on which he had judged him. Daysam wasn't intimidated by just any look, but the way the boy was staring at him made him nervous as if there was something behind those eyes that questioned his authority.
And this made him angry.
<< Oh? Do you already know each other? Well, then I don't need to introduce you. >> Jabar said ironically.
<< Although, my dear friend, you should know that now the boy is no longer a potter, but your colleague. >>
<< What idiocy! >> Daysam exclaimed indignantly. << You don't become a Master just because you have an instrument! >>
<< But he learned to play it, and from the rumors I heard he also became very good at it. >>
The Rector widened his eyes, his astonished expression was a small trophy of triumph for Basim who, unseen, smiled smugly. He was not aware of the boy's evolutionary path as a Master, he had purposely ignored all that important information and only the news of his capture had interested him; for this reason, Jabar was very annoyed, given that he had done his utmost to provide him with all the possible news day after day.
<< It's absurd, what does a potter know about how to play a Yasirpipe? >>
<< That's not a Yasirpipe like the others. >> said Basim, interjecting into the conversation.
The two men looked at him, curious to hear what he had to say.
He went on to say that Fawzi had created a completely new thing that had nothing to do with the old tools; it represented the future of tradition. Daysam protested that it was not possible that a musical instrument could not work so well in commanding the Sand, stating that music was unsuitable with its changing vibrations, and he could say this because he had tried with a thousand or more experiments. Basim reproached him by saying that he was wrong to devalue it only for its appearance as a musical instrument and remarked that, if he had failed to emulate the project, he probably had not found that vision which had instead allowed his colleague to succeed in the so-called mission impossible.
<< Fawzi just had luck. >> The Rector interrupted him, vibrant with anger.
<< This object has no future as you say. It's too… different and complicated. >>
<< Then why were you so desperate to find him? From the way you cared, it seems to me that you could have a chance for success. And if that's the case, I assure you it will be the first step that will make you old-school people useless. >>
Daysam kicked the bars of the cell, the echo of the iron briefly echoing inside the structure mixing with the man's frustrated growl. If that hadn't been separating them, he probably would have kicked him directly in the face.
<< Why is he still alive? >> he asked the General at a certain point. << We finally have what we need, we don't need him. >>
<< I said it too, but then I thought that he is more useful alive than dead. >>
<< How? >>
<
<< Are you saying I can't do it? >>
<< Daysam, it's the best solution. Swallow your pride for once and compromise, okay? >>
<< Hey, I'm still here. And I have no intention of teaching you anything at all. >>
<
Jabar sighed irritably, running both hands over his face.
He didn't want to waste time with useless bickering and took matters into his own hands. He made it clear to Daysam that he would learn from Basim how to use the Yasirpipe and would do so without complaint... and Basim, whether he wanted it or not, would share his knowledge with the other Masters.
The first grumbled a half-hearted "okay", while Basim continued to refuse his collaboration. Jabar, at that point, knew he had to use a different approach with him.
He sent all the Masters away and they were left alone.
They didn't speak, amid the silence you could hear the wind blowing in low drafts through the thin cracks hidden in the walls and the creaking of the stone from the slow erosion of the structure. The creaking of the hinges of the cell being opened made much more noise than when Daysam had kicked it, Jabar stepped in and knelt before Basim, staring him straight in the eyes. He had a serious but not evil expression, he was more impatient than anything else. Without ever raising his voice and using a calm reproachful tone, he told him that his reticence to help them was not good for their plans and that for his sake he had better start cooperating. Basim replied that his lips were sealed, Jabar shook his head in disappointment.
<
With a quick gesture, he grabbed Basim by the hair and drew his dagger near his ear.
The boy's cry remained imprisoned, like himself, within those abandoned walls.
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Hazma compared the maps and official documents several times with the information given to him by Sadin and every time everything matched: the border garrisons south of Baharmis were discovered.
They were not exactly undefended, but as they were mainly made up of soldiers who were not yet well trained, the security level was very low compared to the other outposts that protected the territory, thus leaving the area without a solid defense. A good army would be able to prevent access to the enemy by hindering it, but inexperienced soldiers who most likely did not even know how to exploit the territory to their advantage and without even having a good guide, would have collapsed immediately. Even the position itself represented a disadvantage in the event of an attack, at least in that condition. The militia was located on top of a small mountain range which, arranged like a shield, faced external invasions... but if it was overcome, stopping the enemy horde would have become almost impossible and it would have flowed downstream like a river in flood.
This prospect was terrifying.
How had such an important detail remained hidden?
Not so much for him but for the other captains under the General's command. Someone should have noticed that mistake.
As a prince, he knew that Baharmis had many enemies who would dance for joy to see it capitulate, but it had never occurred to him that one day they might be in danger of being invaded. Now that the possibility was becoming dangerously real, he felt incredibly stupid for not having noticed.
<< And despite everything you can't arrest the General?! >> exclaimed Sadin.
<< There is no actual evidence to show that it was organized by Jabar. >> The prince replied to him.
<
<< The outposts carry out a periodic changing of the guard and it would not be the first time that groups of novices have formed. I could point out this problem, but it still wouldn't be enough to make a charge of treason. >>
Even though Sadin had proven himself to be sincere, Hazma tried to find an excuse to justify the General. He couldn't believe that he had sold himself to the enemy... and for what reason? Money? Candies? Vengeance?
<< So what do we do? >>
<< I can send a squad to replace those guys, at least to increase the defense. But it will take at least a week for them to reach them. >>
<
Hazma double-checked the open paper in front of him.
On the map, every detail of the territory had been faithfully reproduced with a very fine line of ink and with vivid colors that made it almost a sort of work of art, but he had no idea where to place his eyes as far as finding Basim was concerned. He had told Sadin that he was somewhere close to the kingdom but exactly how “close”? If it was a question of keeping it hidden, without staying too far from the city, it had to be a specific place that perhaps not many people knew about. He also mentioned a fort, right? Yet he didn't know that there was anything like this outside the city. Hazma tried to remember what the drawing looked like in reality, wondering if there was such a place.
<< It will take some time before I get an idea. The directions you gave me are very vague. >>
<< Time? That's exactly what we don't have! We must find him now before they kill him! >>
<< Calm down, I'm sure they won't do anything to him. >>
<
<< Where did all the boldness with which you snuck in here go? You don't seem like someone who loses his temper easily. >>
<< Oh, well! You too would be on edge if you knew that you could be invaded by a horde of barbarians at any moment or that your friend had been kidnapped and might be undergoing the worst tortures. Let's say I've reached my endurance limit! >>
Hazma gently grabbed Sadin by the shoulders, encouraging him to calm down:
<< I promise you everything will be fine. But you have to keep helping me and not give up right now after all the road you've come to get here. >>
<< I know! I know... and that I'm tired... and I'm scared. >>
<< I understand you very well, I'm also terrified. But you must be courageous, also because thanks to your determination you have probably saved many lives. You are a hero. >>
Sadin laughed at that strange compliment, it was the first time anyone had called him a hero.
<< Instead of a medal, can I get permission to kick the General's ass as a reward? >>
<< We'll talk about it again. But aren't you nomads supposed to be peaceful people? >>
<