Alexios only slept a few hours in his room before he woke to the merchants pounding his door hard enough to shake the dust from the rattling iron hinges. Actually, he was so tired that he slept through the fists thumping wood as the men yelled his name and demanded their money, but they woke Basil and Kassia, who had both slept a little longer than Alexios. They, in turn, woke him.
Stumbling out of bed with every bone in his body aching and every muscle feeling as though it was moments from tearing—he strapped Gedara to his waist, then checked the sack of coins. It was still on the floor beside his bed where he’d left it.
“I’m coming,” he grumbled to the merchants. “Alright, stop trying to break my door down!”
The pounding ceased. The children fell back into their bed and shut their bleary eyes.
“Listen,” Alexios said, speaking to the door. “I’ve got—”
“You keep telling us to listen!” Ibn Haytham cried. “We’re listening! Speak!”
“I found some money,” Alexios said. “I think it’s enough to cover your losses. But you have to swear that you’re going to leave me alone once I give it to you.”
“So long as our compensation is in full,” Ibn Haytham said. “If that is so, we pray we never meet again.”
“Alright, get away from the door,” Alexios said.
He picked up the sack of coins, opened the door, lurched into the hallway, locked the door behind him, and then staggered to the courtyard. The three merchants followed, their eyes fixed on the heavy sack of coins—their faces hovering so close it almost seemed like they were trying to smell it.
In the courtyard they sat on a wooden platform used for outdoor dining. It was so early in the morning even the mounts in the stables were still asleep. The roosters were silent, and the sun on the horizon had yet to light the caravanserai’s charred inner walls. In the chill morning air Alexios saw his own breath. Splashes of dried blood and puddles of heavenly water reflected the sky in the courtyard dirt.
Can’t believe that siege happened last night, Alexios thought. So many memories seem like they happened to someone else…but they actually happened to me…
Counting the money for the three merchants took forever, and only gave him a little XP for his intelligence and his Initiate Mercantile Skill. Both Alexios and the merchants needed to ensure that they had the correct amount. Alexios stacked the dirhams and nomismas in towers of ten. By the time he finished, each merchant possessed forty stacks. At that point, the merchants took their money and left without speaking. Just a few bronze and silver coins remained in the bag. Alexios put them in his pocket along with his room key. He now had a total of about eighteen dirhams.
Returning to his room, he threw himself into bed, and plunged into dreams of merchants pointing at him and demanding their money. It was always impossible to pay; he never had enough. He kept telling himself to keep it, that he could use it to raise an army of his own, but then he realized that a few hundred dirhams was too little to capture Trebizond, which meant that it was better to pay off the merchants. There was always the chance that if he refused, they would hire some cutthroats of their own—men who would ambush Alexios and his friends in the middle of the night and sever their heads. But what if he used the money to hire an army…? And then the merchants were yelling at him again…
“I don’t have it,” Alexios groaned. “I’m sorry, I never meant for any of you to get hurt…”
“Your intentions do not matter!” Ibn Haytham shouted. “What matters is what you do! It is the consequences that matter!”
Drenched in sweat, Alexios bolted upright, gasped, and clutched his chest, his heart pounding hard and fast. He looked around, then sighed with relief and fell back against his pillow. The warm sun was shining through the window onto the children’s unmade bed. Kassia and Basil were gone.
Soon Alexios climbed out of his room and found them helping Miriai feed the animals in the stable with the two Axumites. Isato was acting nonchalant, as though she had not transformed into a hyena the night before. Her clothes were still torn. Alexios kept Za-Ilmaknun between himself and Isato at all times. The horses, mules, and camels, too, huddled at the far ends of their stalls whenever she approached.
Make sure not to piss off the were-hyena, Alexios thought.
He noticed that Amina was missing, and asked if anyone had seen her.
“The girl from al-Hind?” Za-Ilmaknun said. “She helped us bury the bodies outside the gate. Then she left."
“Are you serious?” Alexios’s eyes widened with concern. “Did you see which way she went?”
“Along the pilgrim road,” Miriai said. “To the east, where Shamash rises over the land of Ash-Shaam.”
“To that place she mentioned,” Alexios said to himself. “Where the Sabians are. What did she call it? How could I forget?”
“You never told me you were interested in the Sabians, dear,” Miriai said.
Alexios looked at her. “You know about them?”
“They’re in Sumatar,” Miriai said. “Or the last of them is—the faded god, Hermes Trismegistos. People often confuse Mandaeans with them, although in reality we couldn’t be more different—”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Alexios said.
“How was I supposed to know?” Miriai clucked her tongue. “The nawar was in such a hurry she left without even eating—with nothing but the clothes on her back. Ach, the poor girl!”
“And you let her leave?” Alexios said. “Just like that?”
“What could I do?” Miriai said. “Was I supposed to force her to eat? Was I supposed to force her to stay? She was in a hurry, and nothing would stop her, not even Sauriel, the spirit of death, who brooks no compromise, and accepts neither bribe nor substitute.”
Alexios turned to Basil and Kassia. “Kids, we have to go.”
“Why?” Kassia was holding a basket of oats up to Rakhsh, who was devouring them.
“That woman,” Alexios said. “Amina—she’s going to take us to the Sabians.”
“Who cares about the stupid Sabians?” Kassia said.
“What, you want to stay here all of a sudden?” Alexios said. “After what happened last night?”
“I killed people last night,” Kassia said. “I’ve never done that before. I don’t want to kill anyone else, not for as long as I live.”
“You mean you killed a bunch of assholes,” Basil said. “Every last one of them was asking for it.”
“Don’t swear like that,” Alexios said, glancing at Miriai.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Basil said. “You were the one who taught me how.”
“Look, will you please just come with me?” Alexios said. “Amina’s looking for her family. I think those slave drivers who were in the tavern the first time Barsúmes attacked us might have stolen her husband and kids.”
Za-Ilmaknun looked at him. “Is this then another quest to end slavery?”
“When you try to do everything at once, you accomplish nothing,” Alexios said. “But sometimes, if you just do a little, you can change the world.”
“Where did you learn to utter such sophistry?” Isato said, startling Alexios, who then tried to act relaxed. “Do such commonplaces impress the young women of this homeland of yours, this Trebizond?”
“I learned it from—uh—from books,” Alexios said.
“May we accompany you on this journey?” Za-Ilmaknun said, glancing at Isato.
“The more, the merrier,” Alexios said. Then he looked uneasily at Isato. “As long as—uh—as long as—”
“What?” Isato’s blue eyes flared. “Do you fear my inner nature?”
“Princess,” Za-Ilmaknun said. Then he smiled and laughed nervously while looking at everyone. “I mean, Isato—please, restrain yourself.”
“Answer the question,” she said to Alexios.
Alexios gulped. “Well, uh—”
“Just don’t anger me.” She stepped toward him. “And there won’t be a problem.”
Alexios stepped back and bumped into the stable’s outer wall. “Alright.”
“I don’t even remember what happened,” Isato said. “I was so upset about those people attacking you. They wouldn’t leave you or these children of yours alone.” She squeezed Kassia’s shoulder. “Next thing I knew, I was walking the courtyard, and so many people lay dead. Many were mauled. I tasted flesh on my tongue.”
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Too much information, Alexios thought.
“You must learn self-control,” Za-Ilmaknun said to Isato. “Else we shall never—”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Isato growled.
Za-Ilmaknun bowed and backed away. “Very well, as you wish.”
Alexios cleared his throat. “We’re probably going to see a lot of action along the way to this place. Everyone should get ready. We might even meet a god.”
“A god?” Miriai raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you mean Hermes Trismegistos. Well, he was a god, but I’m not sure he’s much of one anymore.”
“Wait, you know about this, too?” Alexios said.
“Surprised? There’s not a lot I don’t know! But Hermes is pretty indifferent to everything now. These excellencies, these uthras like the one you speak of, they’re always a mix of light and darkness, good and evil, truth and ignorance—abortions descended from on high, the unwanted products of carnal lust. They act more human on this imperfect Earth than in the perfect World of Light. One might even call this Hermes of yours, this Mercury, mercurial in his attitudes…”
“Do you want to come with us?” Alexios said. “We could all go together.”
“Ach, to leave my caravanserai,” Miriai said. “To leave my home where my husband’s bones lie interred.”
“Once we find the Sabians,” Alexios said, “we’re going to learn what we can from them, and then head back to Trebizond. If you came with us—”
“All the way to Trebizond?” Miriai said. “On foot? But that must be hundreds of parasangs! It’ll be difficult for even young ones such as yourself to journey in such a way!”
“You have plenty of rides.” Alexios eyed the beasts of burden inside the stables. “You don’t need to go on foot.”
“Are you telling me I should steal from my guests?”
“No offense, but most of your guests are dead. Has anyone even come back to claim the bodies outside the gate?”
Miriai was silent for a moment. “Not that I can tell you of, dear. We got tired of waiting and buried them this morning. I did what I could to send their souls to the maṭartas, the toll-houses of purgation, that they might ascend to the World of Light, and be united with their ideal counterparts. But you slept through all that.”
Alexios shook his head. “I think Barsúmes might have been trained by the emperor himself. It’s possible he convinced everyone in Pirin to attack us last night. Back in the tavern when I first met him, he almost convinced me to go back to Trebizond.”
“The man indeed spoke with a golden tongue,” Za-Ilmaknun said. “A chrysostomos, is that not what they call it in these parts? Both Isato and I, too, were almost enchanted.”
“Only fools could be wheedled by such a fool,” Isato said.
Za-Ilmaknun covered his mouth, leaned in toward Alexios, and whispered: “She was close, very close. It was I who pulled her back from the brink, so help me God!”
“Ach, none of the caravanserai workers showed up this morning,” Miriai said. “I needed to close the gates and turn travelers away. Many of the attackers last night I recognized, too. For years some worked with me. We made decisions together, shared our modest profits, helped each other, for there is no worse sin than greed—than exceeding the just price. But then that awful man, that Barsúmes, it only took him a little while to turn them against me.”
Basil shook his head. “It had nothing to do with their intelligence—unless everyone here also thinks Alexios is a fool—because Barsúmes would have enchanted Alexios if not for us.”
“Come on,” Alexios said.
“If Barsúmes talks to you for just a few minutes,” Kassia said, “no one can resist.”
“Indeed, little one, he could charm the very statues if he wished.” Za-Ilmaknun knelt before Kassia so that he could speak to her at eye-level. “He could make them fight his battles for him with his devilry.”
“I helped Alexios kill him,” Kassia said.
“Did you?” Za-Ilmaknun stood uneasily. “How nice.”
“Listen,” Alexios said to Miriai. “There’s nothing left for you here. You should come with us. You were pretty good in that fight last night.”
He realized, as he said this, how much he sounded like Dionysios, all those months ago back in his little house on Mount Ida, when the old master had first tried to convince Alexios to join the uprising—and he had refused.
“I practically won the battle by myself,” Miriai said.
“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Alexios said, looking at Za-Ilmaknun. “We won because we worked together—and we make a good team, all of us. If we keep it up, who knows what we might accomplish?”
“I can’t control the heavenly river whenever I wish, you know,” Miriai said. “I was so drained after that battle, I could hardly lift a finger. And yet I somehow helped you all move the bodies.”
“Such is the way of āsimati.” Za-Ilmaknun hefted his mequamia. “Such are the strengths and weaknesses of the upright paladins of righteousness.”
“You call āsimati the farr,” Isato said to Alexios, “do you not?”
Blushing, he nodded rapidly. “Yes.”
“Were the power of āsimati truly infinite,” Za-Ilmaknun continued, “if it lacked any cost, then the first man to discover it would have become lord of the universe long ago, riding a chariot of fire to dethrone God himself. In reality, every positive has a negative, and every negative a positive. The world is like a spiderweb; pluck at one node and the rest of the strands tremble.”
“But what of these poor animals?” Miriai said to Alexios, nodding to the beasts in the stables. “Are you just going to take the ones you need, and leave the rest to starve while we embark upon this journey of yours?”
“We can take them all,” Alexios said.
She shook her head, then grabbed a broom and swept the hay on the floor. “You know nothing of the work it takes to care for these beasts. Just feeding them alone like this tires me, and we’ve yet to begin cleaning their stalls. The work is ceaseless. If it weren’t for Kassia and Basil, I don’t know what I’d do.” She rubbed the children’s heads, one after the other.
“We can set the animals free,” Alexios said. “We can sell them. I don’t know. All I do know is that I have to get out of here so I can meet up with Amina, and—”
“And find the Sabians,” Basil said. “And hike back to Trebizond. And somehow not lose to the Latins when you fight them again.”
Alexios nodded. “I’m glad this is getting through to you.”
Za-Ilmaknun placed his hands on his hips. “It’s a fool’s errand. Yet an adventurous one.”
“A chance to cleanse the world,” Isato said to Miriai.
Alexios smiled at her and stammered: “Right.”
Miriai stopped sweeping and looked at them. “And so you’ll all be going.”
Za-Ilmaknun nodded. “So it would seem, wise one.”
“Come on,” Alexios said to Miriai. “We need your help to find this place—Sumatar or whatever it’s called, especially since we might not find Amina. Since when did running an old caravanserai become more important than living a little?”
Miriai stared at the black burns which marked the stable walls. “I’ve been here for many years. Ach, since the day I laid my husband’s bones to rest, all I’ve longed to do is the same for my own bones.” She looked at Kassia, Basil, Alexios, Za-Ilmaknun, and Isato. “Since you’ve come here, you’ve brought nothing but violence to my home. Like a whirlwind, you’ve swept everything away. And yet it seems there is more for me to learn. More for me to teach. The Great Life brought us all together here for a purpose—that life would be victorious.”
“Once you die,” Isato said, “your soul will have all eternity to dwell among the fountains of paradise with the ones whom you adore, amidst the heavenly peacocks and lions, the trees of the garden brightened by the angels of luminescence, whose wings silver the leaves. Until then, we must seek to make a difference.”
“Yes,” Miriai said. “Very well. I’ll come. Only—who will take care of my caravanserai?”
“Someone will,” Alexios said. “It won’t sit idle. Someone will take care of everything.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious, Alexios,” Basil said.
“But it seems that someone won’t be me.” Miriai leaned her broom against the wall. Then she smiled at Alexios. “Come, let us go, dear.”
With the exception of Rakhsh, a trio of horses for Za-Ilmaknun, Isato, and Miriai—as well as a couple of young donkeys for Kassia and Basil—the travelers tied the dozens of animals in the stables together and brought them on the journey, loading them with feed and supplies. By evening Miriai was guiding them all out of the eerily quiet Pirin, with the orange sun sinking into the blue winter haze behind them. She had left the caravanserai gates open, and said goodbye to her husband’s grave, praying for him to forgive her. Taomá the Assyrian Christian merchant had agreed to watch the caravanserai in the mean time, to repair and run it as best he could.
“Years have passed since I left Pirin,” she said, her head downcast as Alexios’s band rode away. “Truly left it, I mean. The caravanserai seemed like such a refuge for Zaidoun and me when we first arrived.”
“You can come back someday,” Alexios said. “It’s not like this journey needs to be a permanent thing.”
“I’m never coming back.” She met his eyes. “Ach, for an old woman like me, this journey could be my last. You don’t know what getting old is like! Oh, dear, you’re so young you look like a cute little baby!” She reached over and pinched Alexios’s cheek.
Za-Ilmaknun clicked his tongue against his teeth. “This is nonsense! We have already grown very aware of how you, dear Miriai, are far more than what you seem at first glance.”
“As you told us,” Alexios said, “on the outside, you may look old. But on the inside…”
Miriai grinned. “There are still some tricks up my sleeve—things of which none of you can conceive.”
Alexios raised his eyebrows.
“A pity we departed so late,” Isato said. “We’ll barely get any riding in before we need to set up camp.”
The road was almost deserted this time of day. Most of the merchants who could usually be seen here had already found safe places to rest.
“I slept later than all of you,” Alexios said. “Maybe you can take a break out here while I ride ahead. If I’m lucky, I might be able to find Amina. I’m worried about her.”
“Then again, in the darkness you might get lost,” Miriai said. “You need to watch out for yourself, there are demons wandering the dark. People aren’t careful, they think they’re immortal, and then before they know it—”
“I’ll be careful,” Alexios said. “If I get lost, I’ll just stop and wait until morning.”
“We will rest nearby.” Isato looked at the other travelers to make sure they agreed. “You will look for your friend—this girl of al-Hind.”
Alexios forced a smile, then thanked her. Next, he asked Basil and Kassia if they were going to be alright.
“We’re the ones who should be worried about you,” Kassia said.
“How many times have we saved you already?” Basil said.
Alexios laughed. “I’ve lost count. Just do me a favor and stay with the adults. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Do you promise?” Kassia said.
“Of course I do,” Alexios said.
He wanted to hug them—wanted to say that he loved them—but instead he faced forward, and urged Rakhsh on. The horse whinnied, reared up so high he almost threw Alexios off, and then bolted along the dim road toward the stars that were already shining in the east.
Didn’t mean for that to be so dramatic, Alexios thought.
Soon Rakhsh was moving so fast his legs thundered like blurring pistons, gaining strength and stamina the faster he moved, and the world whirled past. Looking back for an instant, it was impossible for Alexios to see his companions and their long train of animals. Within minutes, Rakhsh had carried him out of sight.
Yet there was no sign of Amina or anyone else on the road. Plains stretched into low brown hills and mountains. Alexios wondered about turning back, since stars now filled the sky, and the world of land beneath was vanishing into darkness, but Rakhsh seemed to be enjoying this sprint after so many weeks of boring walking. And so Alexios kept going.