Oracles of Delphi Keep (45 page)

“I still don’t understand,” said Ian, feeling like he might not be the only one who was having a hard time following this story.

“Something was stolen,” said Theo, and Ian noticed that faraway look in her eyes. “Something of value.”

Jifaar smiled approvingly at her. “Yes, the Star of Lixus was stolen right out from under the Jichmach’s noses!” he said with a hearty laugh that shook his middle and echoed into the night.

“But I thought the Star hadn’t been found,” said Carl with a frown.

Jifaar took the last bite of his fish before replying. “The Jichmach are known liars,” he said when he’d swallowed. “Many years ago they began a rumor that they had found the Star of Lixus hidden in some cave on the border between our two lands. Their hope was that it would make the Jstor jealous, that we would no longer think that Lixus was such a magical place without its valuable treasure. Their plan was that our people would give up this land, and the Jichmach could take it from us. But everyone knew that the Jichmach were lying—everyone, that is, but the Germans.”

“So what did the Germans steal?” asked the professor.

“It is true that the Jichmach did find something of value. And it is also true that long ago a large sapphire was found by one of their tribesmen in a cave near the Atlas foothills. The Jichmach named it the Star of Lixus, and when the Germans came to my home demanding that I tell them where to find it, I sent them directly to the Jichmach!

“Later, I learned that the Germans found the Jichmach with little trouble and asked about the Star. The foolish leader of the Jichmach couldn’t wait to parade the sapphire out in front of the foreigners, but of course he refused to sell it, no matter how much gold the Germans offered. That’s when the Germans drew their guns, stole the Jichmach’s horses, and made off with the sapphire!” Jifaar laughed
deeply again. His laugh was so infectious that Ian laughed too.

“Those Jichmach must really be peeved!” said Carl with a chuckle.

Jifaar nodded, suddenly sobering. “Yes, that would be an understatement, my boy. Raajhi has had to step up his patrol along the border between our two lands, as the Jichmach are feeling their foolishness and are looking for a fight.”

Perry scowled. “We should have stayed in Larache,” he grumbled. “This land is unsafe for us!”

Jifaar gave him a level look, then glanced up to the hills above where the old city lay. “Your worry is at an end, my friend,” he said, catching a slight movement in the fading light. “My son, Raajhi, is here.”

Ian and the others stood and looked up the hill. Down one of the trails came a fierce-looking warrior dressed completely in black linen, riding a tall black horse. He led several others dressed just like him. When he was within shouting distance, he raised his hand and called out something. Jaaved and Jifaar raised their own hands, calling back.

A few minutes later, the lead warrior dismounted and came over to greet the older Moroccan. Jifaar hugged him warmly and waved to the others; then, speaking to his son in Arabic, he sat down and motioned everyone else to do the same.

“I am Raajhi,” the warrior said to them with an accent much thicker than his father’s. “Welcome to the lands of the Jstor,” he offered with a small bow.

Ian was relieved to hear the man speak English. The professor bowed his head too and introduced himself, then
pointed to each of the others and introduced them. Raajhi gave a slight nod before fiddling with his belt loop and unbuckling the huge curved sword by his side.

Ian sucked in a breath as the sword’s handle reflected the late afternoon sun. The hilt was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. It was intricately carved and imbedded with dozens of sparkling gemstones, and at the very end was a silver etching in the shape of a diamond. Ian thought it must be worth a fortune.

Raajhi barked out an order to his nephew before gruffly handing him the sword, and Ian realized that there’d been no greeting shared between Raajhi and Jaaved. Raajhi looked at his nephew with a pronounced scowl of disapproval, but Jaaved took the sword with great care and laid it gently on the corner of the rug before dashing back inside and returning with a cloth and a small jar of ointment. He then squatted down near Thatcher and began rubbing out the tarnish with focused determination.

Ian’s eyes traveled back to Raajhi, and he couldn’t help feeling an intense pang of sadness for Jaaved. The young boy surely didn’t deserve such gruff treatment from his uncle. Jifaar had mentioned that Jaaved’s mother had died. Ian wondered where the boy’s father was.

Thatcher leaned over, pointed at the sword, and spoke in quiet tones to Jaaved, and after he had answered him, Ian leaned around Carl and asked about the sword.

Thatcher eyed Raajhi before responding, making sure they weren’t overheard. “The sword was Jaaved’s father’s before he died in a battle with the Jichmach. It passed to his uncle, who is now head of the tribe.”

Ian nodded, still wondering why Jaaved’s uncle was so cold to him.

Dusk came and the grownups talked on. Luckily for Ian, Carl, and Theo, they mostly spoke in English. When the professor told Raajhi about their encounter with the beast in Larache and about Ian’s hearing two separate howls the night before, Raajhi expressed his concern that he now had not only the Jichmach to worry about, but some giant dangerous beasts as well. “I must go to the camps and get more men for the patrol,” he said. “You should come with us, my father. I would prefer to know you are safe in our camp rather than so far away from my sight.”

The old man smiled patiently at his son. “I cannot, Raajhi. I am nearly done with my commission, and the man will be here before long to collect it.”

Raajhi scowled. “Bah!” he said. “Father, you could bring your crystals and your tools back to the camp and work there. Your patron will find his way to you, and if he doesn’t, then so be it. At least there I know you will be safe.”

“I am safe here, Raajhi,” Jifaar said calmly. “Leave me a gun or two and I will be fine.”

Raajhi sighed heavily. “Stubborn old goat,” he said, but Ian noticed that there was the smallest bit of a smile at the edges of his lips. “As you wish, then. I will leave you three of my men and a rifle for your personal use. As for the rest of you,” he said, turning to look at the six of them, “what the likes of you are doing here so far away from your homeland is of no concern to me. But be warned, this land is not safe for Europeans right now, and it is even less safe for children. While you are on my land, you will
be protected, but once you wander off, I cannot be held responsible.”

Ian felt a chill go up his spine. Would they ever be free of danger?

“Thank you for your protection, Raajhi,” the professor answered, “but we have no need to venture far from the lost city. We will make sure to stay close to the ruins, and should anything troubling occur, we shall not hesitate to make our way back downriver.”

Raajhi seemed satisfied. He stood and motioned to a few of his warriors, who came to him and listened while he spoke quietly. Then he took a rifle from the holster on his horse’s saddle and gave it to his father. “My men will guard your home until I can return. Keep safe, my father.”

“You as well, my son,” said Jifaar. With that, Raajhi climbed back onto his great black steed and rode off with his many warriors into the night.

Ian and the others watched them go in silence. As the men crested the third hill and disappeared, Theo reached out and grabbed Ian’s hand. He squeezed it and looked down at her. “You all right?” he asked when he noticed her eyes seemed pinched with worry.

Theo opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again as the pounding of horses’ hooves faded into the night. She simply nodded.

Then Ian’s eyes fell on Jaaved, still holding the cloth he’d used to shine his uncle’s sword. Ian hadn’t been able to help noticing the dejected look on Jaaved’s face when his uncle had taken the sword and turned away from the boy without a word. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

Ian leaned over to Jifaar and asked quietly, “Sir?”

“Yes, lad?”

“Why was Raajhi so unkind to Jaaved?”

Jifaar’s eyes sparkled as he looked into Ian’s. “You’re a very observant young man, aren’t you?” he said.

Ian didn’t know how to respond, so he simply shrugged. Jifaar sighed sadly and his eyes moved over to his grandson. “It was Jaaved’s mother,” he said. “Both my sons were in love with her, and who could blame them? She was a beautiful woman with so many gifts. But she chose my eldest son for her husband, and when she died giving birth to Jaaved, well, Raajhi seemed to turn all of his jealousy and anger toward my grandson. And when he took over the tribe, Raajhi sent Jaaved away to Larache to be the servant of that drunken fool at the docks. I believe he did this so as not to be reminded of his broken heart over the loss of his brother and the woman he secretly loved.”

“Forgive me for saying this,” said Ian, “but if Raajhi didn’t want Jaaved near him at the tribe’s camp, why didn’t you tell your son to leave your grandson in your care here?”

Jifaar’s eyes moved over to his house and Ian thought he caught a look of trepidation. The older man’s answer was rather cryptic. “My home is not safe for my grandson right now, Ian. It is better, at least for a little while longer, for Jaaved to be far away from me and my work.”

Ian was about to ask him what he meant, but Jifaar turned away and abruptly changed the subject. “Professor,” he said, “I have a spare hammock in my house that would be better for your back than this cold ground. Children, come inside and take up a blanket for yourselves and the
men. The nights can get cold here with the wind from the foothills.”

Ian realized that their conversation was finished, and, sighing, he motioned with his head to Carl and Theo, who followed him, Jifaar, and the professor into the wooden shack. Once the professor settled himself in the hammock, they followed Jifaar through a small doorway and into what looked like a workroom. While they waited to be handed blankets, Ian had a chance to gaze around the room. A very long table dominated the space and butted up against the one small window letting in the last rays of the sun, illuminating the house in a lovely orange glow. The rays sparkled off something on the table, which, Ian saw upon further inspection, were dozens and dozens of crystals and colored rocks. Intrigued, he wandered over to the display to have a closer look.

He walked the length of the table, gazing intently at the many rough crystals at one end and the polished stones, pendants, bracelets, and even some chess pieces at the other. “Do you like what you see?” Jifaar asked.

Ian jumped. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said quickly. “I was just curious.”

Jifaar gave him a reassuring pat on the back and handed him a blanket. “It’s all right, Ian. There is no harm in that.”

“They’re very nice,” Ian said appreciatively. “Especially these,” he added, moving all the way down to the end of the table, where there was an ornately beautiful chess set.

Ian was surprised to see that all the pieces were black instead of the traditional black and white, but he noticed
that Jifaar had cleverly distinguished the opposing sides in other ways. He’d used gold and rubies on one set of pieces and silver and emeralds on the other. As Ian inspected them, Carl joined him to take a look.

“You like those, eh?” asked Jifaar.

“Oh, yes,” said Ian, but he cocked his head slightly when he noticed Theo standing far away from him, at the other end of the table, with a mighty frown on her face. “Come have a look, Theo,” he offered, thinking she was feeling left out.

But Theo shook her head and her eyes drifted to Jifaar, as if he would understand why she didn’t want to move closer to look at the chess set. To Ian’s surprise, Jifaar smiled broadly at her and said, “You can feel their energy, correct?”

Theo nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but there’s something about those pieces that’s … that’s … wicked.”

Carl and Ian shared a look, and Ian could tell that his friend thought Theo was off her nutty again. Carl reached out and gently lifted one of the pieces. “Wicked?” he said, inspecting a rook. “Aw, Theo, they’re harmless. See?” And he held it up and wiggled it back and forth as if to prove to her that the piece was benign.

Ian was surprised again when Jifaar said, “No, no, lad, the lady is correct. That piece you’re holding is deadly wicked.”

Carl smiled, as if Jifaar had just said something funny, but the longer Ian stood next to the chess set, the more he felt something tugging at him. His mind was slowly filling with dark thoughts until, strangely, he was suddenly very angry at
Carl. “Put it down!” he snapped, and he tried to grab the piece away from his friend.

Carl looked at Ian in surprise but he held fast to the chess piece. “What’s come over you?” he asked, but in an instant his brows crossed angrily and his lip curled up into a sneer.

“It’s not yours,” Ian said sternly, still trying to pull the rook out of Carl’s hand. “You shouldn’t touch things that don’t belong to you! Or didn’t you learn that from your dear
dead
mum?” Ian heard Theo gasp, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he’d just said something unforgivable, but he couldn’t seem to control himself.

Carl tugged back on the rook, his fingers firmly gripping it while his other hand curled into a fist. “You take that back!” he yelled, his face contorted in rage.

“Will not!” said Ian stubbornly, and he felt his own hand curl into a fist. He was aware that he and Carl were on the verge of physical violence as anger seemed to be welling within him and he knew he’d lost all ability to see reason.

But before the boys could exchange blows, Jifaar’s bulk was in the middle of them, pushing them apart. When they were separated, the older man carefully lifted the rook out of Carl’s hand and set it gingerly back onto the table. He then scooted both boys down the length of the long table to the other end, near Theo.

After just a few steps, Ian noticed that the intense feelings of anger seemed to evaporate from him, and when he came to a stop next to Theo, he looked at Carl in astonishment. “I’m sorry!” he gasped. “I didn’t mean that about your mum!”