The Cursed Sun Read online

My small bedroom was located in a room behind the front desk. It was handy to have for the arrival of late night guests. It was here that I kept some of my more personal treasures – a small painting of my parents, an original and still-sealed pack of cigarettes from the times of the Ancients, and a collection of antique drinking glasses. Perhaps it was the nature of my business, but I’ve always been a poor sleeper. Nonetheless even with that handicap, I did not hear Tai leave that night. He must have left by the window in his room since I did not hear his passing through the doors of the lobby.

  It was some time in the middle of the night when I was awoken by the sound of a gentle tapping. Feeling disorientated, I opened my eyes and was met by the pitch-blackness of my shuttered room. The sound was coming from the single window which looked out on to the road a few yards away. Fearing some enterprising thief was trying to gain access inside, I reached over to my side table and retrieved the dagger that normally hung from my waist. I never had cause to use it before, but such an ornament was expected these dangerous days.

  In the darkness, I stole gently to the window. I was about to fling it open when the noise suddenly stopped. Opening the window as quietly as possible, I swung back the shutters. From the light of the moon, I could see no one standing outside. I was about to return to my slumber when I heard a low moan coming from the ground. Leaning over the casement, I saw a shadowed body lying there, resting close to the foundation.

  “You must help me,” a voice croaked. It was Tai.

  Pulling myself through the window, I was soon standing over him. Reaching down to grab his shoulders from the behind, I felt the shaft of an arrow protruding from his back. With a jerk, I removed it, which brought a heavy moan from Tai. His back was slick with blood. As carefully as I could, I picked him up and swung his body over my shoulder. That movement caused more grunts of discomfort from him. From there, I staggered over to the front entrance and found it locked. Since I had left my keys in my room, I resorted to pounding on the door.

  “Open up, Hussen!” I shouted. He normally slept in the room next to the front entrance, supposedly guarding the hotel from intruders.

  There was no answer, so I rapped the door again with my fist. As before, the knocking had no effect. “Damn it, Hussen, open the door!” I shouted, my anger starting to boil over.

  After another minute, the door opened. Holding a lit candle, Molli was standing there in a pale nightgown, her blonde hair mussed from sleep.

  “Why are you outside?” she meekly asked.

  “Where is Hussen?” I asked angrily as I staggered inside with Tai.

  Molli was a gentle soul who knew nothing of violence. She gasped at the sight of the wounded man. With her face pale from shock, she replied, “I don’t know. He should be here.”

  “Well, he isn’t.” I was surprised that Hussen had deserted his post. Where could the fool be? Pushing that thought away, I had to decide what to do with Tai before he bled all over my lobby. He was in a bad state and needed medical treatment beyond what I could administer. “I’ll take him to my room,” I heard myself saying. “It will be closer than dragging him to his.”

  She nodded and started ahead, the dim light of the candle throwing ghastly shadows on the familiar walls.

  Pulling Tai past the front desk and into my room, I dumped him on my bed. With unsteady hands, I lit the oil lamp at my side table and then looked closer at this friend of Kalam. I certainly was no doctor, but I could only see the he was unconscious and still losing blood. His breathing was so shallow that I wondered how much longer he would live.

  “What happened to him?” Molli whispered.

  I snapped back, “I found him outside the bedroom window with an arrow in his back. Hurry to the kitchen and boil some water. This wound will need to be cleaned if he has any chance of living.”

  She left in haste, the sound of her bare feet thudding against the floors.

  “I’m sorry that I came here,” Tai croaked. He had somehow regained consciousness once again. His grey eyes were glassy with pain and the jaw set in a fixed scowl. As he spoke, the lips barely moved. “I tried to make it to Kalam’s house but did not have the strength. This wound is grievous. I fear it will be the death of me.”

  “Don’t talk now,” I cautioned. “You will need to rest if you want to get better. I must leave you here with Molli, my maid, so I can get the doctor.”

  He slowly shook his head. Even that motion took considerable energy to accomplish. “No doctors. No one must know that I am here.”

  “Well the only doctor in town isn’t very good, but I fear for your life if you do not receive aid.”

  “That’s not important. I need to write a note for Kalam. You must deliver it to him!”

  I went to my desk and put my dagger down. I quickly gathered a pen and a scrap of paper. I brought it to Tai, who began writing earnestly with short, cribbed letters. His hands shook. I was amazed he had the strength to finish. When Tai was done, he handed the note to me. He then closed his eyes, let out a long sigh and died without a further word. I stood there, shaking my head in disbelief. I was getting wrapped up in something that I did not want to be part of. Slowly, I opened the note and found that I could not read it. It was written in some unknown language, using unfamiliar characters. Perhaps it was coded in some manner that only Kalam could read.

  My thoughts were interrupted by someone pounding on the front door. I took the note and tucked it into a fold in my sleeve. Leaving my bedroom, I went out to the lobby and listened. From the sounds coming outside, it sounded as if a mob was trying to batter their way in. Since that was no way to treat my home, I angrily strode over and jerked open the door. As soon as I did this, a pile of five Mujadeen soldiers came crashing through, giving me little time to dodge.

  “Good evening,” a voice said. “Or should I say good morning?” It was Rasid. He was standing at the door, looking amused by the clumsiness of his men. But there was nothing amusing by the pistol held in his hand. It was pointed straight at me. The dark opening of the barrel reminded me of the blackness of death. One twitch of his finger and I would be finished. I wondered why Rasid was here. I had thought that he had left the city.

  “Come in,” I said weakly.

  The sub-Vizier strode imperiously into the lobby with his sergeant. But of more interest was who followed. It was Hussen. He grinned malevolently at me, his previous meekness replaced by an arrogance I had never encountered before. On second thought such emotion was always there, but just barely concealed behind a clever mask.

  “Sergeant,” Rasid commanded, “I want this place searched from top to bottom. You will tear this place apart until that Rebel spy is found.” As he spoke, the gun in his hand never wavered from me.

  “Who are you looking for?” I demanded as the soldiers scattered to look through the hotel. Only Rasid, Hussen, and the sergeant remained.

  Rasid spat out, “You know who we are looking for. He’s a guest of yours.”

  I gave in before my hotel was damaged. “Look, I can save you the time. He’s in my bedroom back there.” I pointed to the door behind the front desk. “But I’m afraid he won’t be any use to you.”

  “And why is that?” Hussen snarled.

  “Because he is dead,” I replied simply, hoping this would put an end to the matter.

  “Sergeant, go take a look.” the sub-Vizier commanded.

  We waited in silence while the sergeant went behind the desk and into my bedroom. Hussen glared at me, the black eyes filled with hate. Perhaps he wanted vengeance for my past actions. Rasid’s expression remained unfathomable.

  The sergeant returned quickly, shaking his head. “It is as he said. The Rebel is dead.”

  “Your man should not have shot him,” Rasid said coldly. “He was supposed to be taken alive. Now I will never get any information out of him!”

  With a shrug, the sergeant said, “It is Allah’s
will.”

  My own troubles were cast aside when I heard Molli scream. She had been discovered in the kitchen. I could only pray that she would remain unharmed. Knowing the manners of these soldiers, I doubted it. My fears were soon realized when she was dragged, kicking and fighting, into the lobby. The soldiers all gathered around in a loose circle, their eyes shiny with anticipation. My stomach felt sick, knowing what was going to happen next. But I was helpless to stop the proceedings unless I wanted to be shot by that unwavering pistol in Rasid’s hand.

  “She knows nothing,” I protested, but my words fell on deaf ears. Rasid was going to let his men have their fun. It was his way of paying them back for working far into the night.

  They started shoving Molli around, making her fall to the ground, only to be picked up again to repeat the process. Her nightgown was quickly torn open, exposing the skin underneath. The sight seemed to inflame the soldiers’ lust even further. Soon blood was running from her knees, and her hair was wildly disarrayed. She was sobbing, but her entreaties went ignored.

  "Stop!" I yelled.

  Rasid made a motion with his hand. The assault upon Molli immediately stopped. She fell to the ground, nearly senseless with pain and shock, only to huddle like a wounded animal. He then said, "So, Mikel, how could you become involved with the Rebels? I thought you were my friend."

  "I am not involved with them," I protested. “I just provided a room for this Tai. I did not know who he was or what he was doing.”

  He gave a little laugh. "I have no reason to believe you. We’ve been looking for a cell in this town. Little did we know that is was you here at the hotel. What a perfect place! The Rebels could come and go without being noticed, mixing in with the travelers."

  Hussen said, “Perhaps Mikel here can tell us what the Rebels know of the project.”

  “What project? What do you mean?” I asked, wondering what the hell they were talking about.

  Rasid stared at me, his expression hard and calculating. “Very well, Hussen, proceed with your questioning. But make sure not to kill him right away. The Warlord will be displeased if we do not ferret out everything he knows.”

  The sergeant grabbed me by the arms and tried to hold me. Hussen took this chance and struck me hard in the face. I had been content to let the situation go, hoping they would realize I really had nothing to do with the Rebels. But Rasid appeared to be worried for his own head. He would kill me if it meant saving his own life.

  Ever since I was a small boy, I had been warned to keep my temper in check because I have always been quick to anger. It was only through self-control that I kept my more violent emotions at bay. Now I let them go. My vision receded into a red-haze. I felt my skin crawl with rage. Even with Rasid’s pistol trained on me, I didn’t care. If I was going to die, let it be said that I died with honor.

  I easily shook myself free of the skinny sergeant, and then, swinging around, struck him in the head with my fist. He went sprawling against the wall with a mighty bone-splintering crash. For the traitor Hussen, I grabbed him by the neck and squeezed. His eyes went wide with shock. I then swung him bodily into the front desk. The ancient wood cracked as his body hit with a frightful impact. He fell to the ground with a scream of agony.

  Turning my attention to Rasid, I saw that he had not moved. His face remained impassive, but that infernal gun was still pointing at me. I took a step towards him, my hands stretched out to grab that thick throat.

  “No one can beat the bullet,” he said with a sneer.

  Not caring, I took another step.

  With a flick of his wrist, Rasid fired. I tried to hopelessly dodge. The bullet hummed by my ear, striking the wall next to me.

  “Not another step,” he hissed. “I don’t want to kill you. At least not yet. You still have to answer my questions.”

  Before I could do anything else, a blow struck me in the back of the head. The entire world began to spin and my vision began to fade. Another blow and I was down on my knees. I’ll never know who hit me, but they ended up saving my life. Now I couldn’t rush Rasid and take that blasted gun away from him. As my consciousness faded away, I felt my body go limp and hit the floor.

  It seemed like I was only out for a second. The heat was intense. My body ached worse than my head. I felt myself sliding across the floor like a sack of potatoes. With every ounce of my faded strength, I opened my eyes. It took me a moment to realize I was surrounded by fire. The smoke above was thick and grey. I closed my eyes again, wondering if I had descended into Hell. Now in a panic, I opened my eyes once again and pulled my head off of the floor to see who was pulling me. The energy to do to this nearly made me pass out. I saw Kalam, his expression grim. I swam into the darkness again and the world became nothing.

  Chapter 5