8.
Senior
The ride into the desert took over a day and night for
Abraham and the Master of the Arts, accompanied by the daughter, and six others
who were the guards. They have taken the trail of the fugitive Sheikh Omar but
lost it in the dunes where the sand storms had blown away the prints. The
Master was not keen on the Sheikh but he learned that the Sheikh had taken the
trail towards the same destination like himself; the Hidden City.
The Hidden City was not known to even the few learned
and experts in the history of Ancient Egypt.
However, it was known to the few who have learned the dark arts and one
of them was Master Osis. Among those few that had known of the city had pledged
to keep it secret only among themselves. He was told that he cannot passed on
the discovery to even his children unless they have proven themselves in the
dark arts or have become the demon hunter.
Hasnah Isis have not proven to be one yet. She may be
however a companion to one.
Among his few disciples, none have better at their
skills over Hasnah.
Master Osis have considered himself a failure. He held
no successor. He had hoped the Sheikh will lead him to one but that was a
foolish wish then with the other having shown himself to the servant of the
unspeakable. Master Osis will surrender himself to fate and vanquish the demon
or die himself without a successor.
“Tell me, father. To where are we travelling? I have
not ventured so far from the City before. I mean not into the direction here.”
Hasnah having her travelling clothes on; the dark tunic and pants with the
riding boots, and her head covered with the cloth only her eyes to be seen. She
leaned back on saddle and looked to her left. It was the family guest. He was
riding with his head bent forward and the wide brimmed hat protect his head and
face. He had on a scarf wrapped around his nose to the neck. He was still
wearing his hooks on the greaves and those wooden stakes on the chest.
“Northerner fool” Hasnah muttered out. She had on her
scimitar and the bow with the quiver and the small daggers. That to her were
the real weapons to fight the demons. She looked to around her forming a cordon
was the other guards. They were trained by her father and rivalled her in the
fighting arts. She knew that one day she will have to succeed her father.
And she was concerned. She was not ready. And neither
are the other six.
“Hasnah, come close to me. The storm comes soon.”
Hasnah looked to the horizon and saw the coming storm. It was a huge one. She
then dismounted and took out the rope. She needed that to secure the horse to
her father’s horse and the others will also do so. The guest was helped by the
guards and then they rode on in a singular line until the order was given to
dismount and walked with the horses.
The storm came like the swarm of locusts and instead
of small insects, the storm was made of little pebbles of sand. Like the
locusts, nothing in its way was safe. Even the hard boulder of rocks will be
chipped away to be like one of its pebbles and with time perhaps to dust. The
storm changed the landscape from one picturesque beauty to a new layout but
each was an art by itself.
Many living beings could survive the storm if they are
exposed without the proper attire. Somehow Man and the horses with the
assistance of its handler learned to survive in the storm, not once but many
times. It was the ingenuity of Man to cover the horse’s eyes with the wet cloth
and then taught them to ride in a singular line led by the handler. It helped
and for the Man, it mattered not where they were headed but as long as they
cleared the storm. That could take minutes to hours and the later may mean
disaster.
Disaster came then and it was part of the storm.
The first was the rear guard.
The guard felt the sensation of something moving
beneath his jacket. He knew it was unusual but ignored it. He walked on and
felt the sensation moved onto his neck. He knew then it was too late. A scream
would not matter. It will not be heard by anyone and not even the pebbles will
care then. He pulled the cover from his face and then released the rope that
held the horse. He won’t be getting the horse to die with him. He did not have
to worry on it. The horse sank to the ground as the limbs gave way. The horse
was dead before the handler.
It worked its way up from the one rear to the fifth
and the fourth before the Master sensed the threat. He stopped and then pulled
the rope from his daughter with his right hand while his left hand held on fast
to the reins of his horse. His daughter stepped up to him and without any
questions, she secured her horse to her father’s. The Master then stepped out
of the line and traced the horse from the mane to the tail. That led to the
rope and then to the guest’s horse. He then reached out and felt the sleeve of
the guest. He trailed it and touched the face. It was perhaps instinct or
inbuilt sensory perception the guest also took caution.
The Master raised his arms and then called on the
spell of dis-cloak and the storm subsided there in a widening circle like a
tunnel in the wind. The so named tunnel widen in its radius until the entourage
was seen without the veil of sands. It was then the Master of Arts saw the
killings. Four of his guards have died with two horses. That left him with two
guards, the guest and the daughter.
“Show yourself, demon.” Master Osis called out while
he drew out the scimitar from his belt. The remaining guards and his daughter
have done so and waited the demon. It came but unlike of a living being, it
appeared from the twirling sand.
“Itep the Wind Demon. Why am I not surprised to have
you here?” The demon formed then into a form like the living but it was on four
limps and bared its fangs on the snorted face and a mane on its neck. It
resembled that of the desert hyena. Unlike its look alike, it does not feed on
carcasses but the living.
“Demon?” Abraham lowered the cloth covering his face.
Hasnah had sprang into action with the drawn scimitar but her father stopped
her.
“Itep is mine. The demon killed many of my friends and
today the demon gets terminated. The servant of Itep will cease to exist.”
“Father, you must not….”
“I care not. The Unspeakable need not be coveted here
in secrecy. I will call on the deceitful name even it means the death of
myself.” Master Osis looked at the demon. “Why shy when you are at doorsteps of
your Master?”
The demon charged at the Master who had then slashed
the demon across the head and its form disappear to formed in retreat. The
demon turned to look at the Master.
“So, the demon averts termination with its art of
sliding. I am not the arts to counter that.” Master Osis called on the spell of
displacement to place a barrier on the area around him. “Within the barrier,
you cannot move between time.”
The demon shook the mane and the snarled at the Master.
It sensed the barrier on its movement and then took on the charge at the
Master. The demon leapt and with its forward claws it tried to rake the other.
The Master of the Arts have sidestepped and thrust with the scimitar into the
underbelly of the demon. The scimitar struck there but it was protected by the
demon’s skin which the scimitar could not pierce.
“Alas, metal against the demon’s flesh have failed. I
have to fight you then with my hands and be done with you.” Master Osis voiced
up and then dropped the scimitar.
“Hold! Master Osis, the works of the hard metal may
not work on the magic of its protection but mine would.” Abraham tossed two of
the wooden stakes over. “Its made of the witch circle oak tree from the ancient
age. Thrust it into its softer flesh.”
Master Osis held the two stakes over to him. He then
glared at the demon which had then retreated sensing the new danger in the
hands of the Master. The Master of the Arts taunted it but it remained far from
reach with its encirclement.
“Itep the Demon. You are a pathetic fool.” Master Osis
rushed at the demon which had then leaped at the Master. The Master twisted his
right hand holding the wooden stake and ran it below into the neck. The stake
was engraved with the words of the demon dispel characters burnt its way into
the heart. The demon shrieked and it fell. The Master of the Arts attacked on
with the second stake which he buried into the right eye. The demon pulled away
and then shrieked out in pain before it dispelled like the pebbles in the
storm. Only the two wooden stakes have remained behind on the sandy ground.
The Master found himself standing there with nothing
in front of him. He looked at the guest and smiled.
“Welcome to the border of the Hidden City. Here we may
die.” Master of the Arts told his guest. The sand storm had then died down. “The
Demon Master awaits us but to meet him, we will be prepared to meet his
underlings. One had been slayed by us, but dozen more awaits us at the City.”
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