Epic Of Ahiram (Book 1) Read Free Page B

finished setting up her booth, looked up and smiled when she saw Syreen, but her smile turned into veiled disappointment when she did not see Karadon.
    “My cousin sends his greetings,” said her friend with a sheepish smile. “He wanted to come with me, you know, for the shark meat, and just in case there was a bit more scrubbing to do, but he had to go out of town. He will be back next week.” Hoda nodded. Her friend continued, “I can’t stay for very long, and this is not the right place to talk. Could you come over after hours for a short visit?”
    “I would love to, Syreen, but Ahiram is punished again. He got into a terrible fight and I am—”
    “It is about your brother,” cut in Syreen. “I have news. Please come.” Hoda held her breath and looked at her friend who read her anguish. “I think we found a way to help him. I will tell you later.”
    “Who’s we ?” asked Hoda, confused.
    Syreen cocked her head and gave her friend a reproachful gaze, “Karadon and I, silly. Who else?”
    Hoda felt a wave of gratitude surge from within. She was relieved, relieved that she did not have to carry that weight alone. Ever since he was a baby, Ahiram had given Hoda his best smiles and his most tender coos, and when he became a toddler, she gave him a doll Syreen had made for her: a goat with two tiny bells. Immediately, he named it “Doda,” and he and Doda became inseparable for years.
    When Ahiram turned eight, the nightmares began, and he would run to Hoda crying. Then came the bad temper and the stormy rage and the brawls that became more frequent. It broke Hoda’s heart to see him tormented, and she did everything in her power to ease his pain and protect him. Then, Arfaad, the captain of the High Riders, told her father that unless Ahiram learned to control his temper, he might end up dead in a dark alley one day. His words sent a chill to her heart.
    Hoda could hardly wait for the market to close. Finally, after cleaning and closing the booth, she hastened to Syreen’s house. Leaving the main thoroughfare, she went to Astarte Street, and just as she was about to cross Melkart Street, she saw the stranger who had wanted to buy Ahiram’s medallion. He was leaning against the wall across the street. As soon as their eyes met, he started walking toward her. Entranced, she watched him get closer, unable to move, when a bucketful of cold water fell on the man, drenching him. They both looked up and saw only deserted balconies. Not waiting, Hoda ran. What’s wrong with me? she wondered. What is that man doing to me?
    Hoda sped through the busy roads of Byblos, zigzagging through a series of narrow streets until she reached the back alley behind Syreen’s house. She knocked at a narrow, low door and was relieved to see her friend. This was the back door to Syreen’s parents’ expansive and expensive home, the door the two girls preferred to the ornate, marble front entrance.
    “Hoda, are you alright? Did you run?”
    “Yes,” said the young woman breathlessly, “I ran into the man who wanted to buy Ahiram’s medallion as I was crossing Melkart Street.”
    “How did he know you were coming this way?” asked Syreen after taking a quick peek into the alley; it was deserted.
    “I don’t know. And the way he looked at me…” she shivered.
    “Come, I have hot tea steeping in my room. Let’s sit and talk like we used to do when we were little.”
    Hoda smiled and followed her friend to her large bedroom, where they sat on a sea of brightly colored pillows surrounded by a cheerful collection of dolls.
    “I love these,” said Hoda, admiring her friend’s handiwork. “They are beautiful, Syreen. You know, Ahiram had your Doda for two full years before he lost it in the sea. It was as if he had lost…”
    “You?” completed Syreen. “Hoda, I know how much you care for him, and I am here to help.”
    “Thank you, Syreen,” replied Hoda. “I really do think your dolls are amazing. You are so