Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) Read Free Page A

satisfied.
    “Not at all,” replied Syreen enjoying herself, “this is the plain truth.”
    “But I am sure you two must have had long conversations,” protested Hoda, wishing she had been there.
    Karadon did not reply, but his scrubbing accelerated.
    “Oh no,” said Syreen, “I had long monologues. He, on the other hand, had long grunts.”
    “Grunts?” replied Hoda “Really?”
    If Karadon scrubbed any faster, he would have lit the table on fire.
    “Isn’t it so, Karadon?” asked Syreen with an innocent voice.
    Involuntarily, he grunted. The two girls burst out laughing. Karadon stopped, wiped his brow and joined them.
    The booth had three tables and a light, linen tarp to shade them from the sun. Having cleaned all the buckets, the tables, and the two chairs, they stowed the utensils in a wooden box under the main table and walked toward the shore.
    “So, Ahiram has a hot temper?” asked Syreen casually.
    “You noticed, didn’t you?” replied Hoda. “You were always the perceptive one. My parents are at their wits’ end, and I…” she stopped, and she, who was ordinarily so strong, could barely contain her tears. Syreen squeezed her shoulder. Karadon simply listened.
    “I am scared, Syreen. I don’t know what to do. I feel I am losing him. He is trying so hard, but it seems he is unable to contain this… dark rage. I don’t know what it is… It scares me.”
    Karadon and Syreen exchanged a long glance but said nothing. Then Karadon lifted Hoda’s spirits by recounting his voyage to the Land of the Marada. He spoke quickly, using short sentences punctuated by long grunts.
    “Amazing,” said Hoda, after he was done. “Traveling like that must have been expensive. How did you afford it, I wonder?” Inwardly, she was already expecting him to tell her that he was the son of a rich man, which would put an end to any romantic ideas she may have had.
    “I was on the crew of a wealthy carpet merchant during the journey. He and his wife were very generous, and they took good care of us.”
    “I see,” said Hoda, happy. She started to smile but thought it would be unbecoming and ended up with a smirk.
    “We must be on our way, Hoda,” said Syreen. She hugged her friend and whispered, “I will come and see you next week at the market. I promise.” Hoda nodded but said nothing.
    “Goodbye, Hoda, it was very nice to scrub the plaza with you… I mean, it was nice to meet you,” said Karadon blushing.
    She nodded, “You’re definitely a good scrubber.”
    What am I saying? she thought, and quickly ran down Sunset Street.

    A week later, Hoda was back at the market with a fresh batch of shark steak, a delicacy only the well-to-do could afford. To avoid angering Yem, the god of the sea, Bahiya, the high priestess, had commanded the fishermen not to exceed five hundred sharks each season. Even though Baal forbade the cult of Yem, the priestess showed her respects to Yem in order to protect the villagers from his wrath. According to the fishermen, Yem prowled the coast as a huge double-finned shark, a shark no one ever landed. Supposedly, shark meat granted those who ate it the strength of the beast and protection during travel. The cynics contended that the priestess used the meat as bait to exact favors from the wealthy. Others, more business minded, saw an opportunity, and an underground market quietly flourished in Byblos. There, eager travelers bought morsels of dried shark meat, paying fivefold the price for fresh meat.
    The sale of shark meat in Byblos was strictly controlled, requiring express permission from the high priestess and Jabbar—Hoda and Ahiram’s father—was one of the few chosen ones to receive Bahiya’s approval. Still, he knew his fellow villagers very well, and, as such, contributed more than his fair share to the common purse. “You can get rich alone,” he told his children, “or you can be rich with friends and family. Choose wisely.”
    “Hoda.”
    She had just