Illuminated Shadows: Part Ii

By Shaun Mehta

Katherine Melody Chambers is an abused, autistic savant child in a psychogenic coma. To escape her traumatic reality, she lives as Queen Kaila, the protagonist of a fantasy book she loved to read.

Blaming himself for the murder of his wife and daughter, Detective Alex Knight searches for redemption by promising justice for the comatose twelve-year-old.

Best described as Game of Thrones meets CSI, Illuminated Shadows is an epic adventure in an enchanted world, and a gripping police whodunit thriller that has a reality and fantasy converging towards an inescapable collision.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781504900904

Shaun Mehta

Shaun Mehta was nominated for a Canadian Screen Award for Best Adapted Screenplay for the feature film Amal. He is also the author of Divya’s Dharma, The Illuminated Shadows Trilogy and A Slice of Life, a short story collection. Shaun writes and teaches in Toronto.

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© 2015 Shaun Mehta. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/28/2015

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0091-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-0090-4 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Part II October 9, 2008

21 Canyons Of Jukah Kingdom Of Rambogi

22 Thursday October 9, 2008 10:33 AM

23 Rambogi Desert Kingdom Of Rambogi

24 Thursday October 9, 2008 11:18 AM

25 Nameless Valley Kingdom Of Rambogi

26 Thursday October 9, 2008 1:32 PM

27 Rambabad Kingdom Of RAMbogi

28 Thursday October 9, 2008 2:53 PM

29 Rambabad Kingdom Of Rambogi

30 Thursday October 9, 2008 4:30 PM

31 Rambabad Kingdom Of Rambogi

32 Thursday October 9, 2008 6:42 PM

33 Rambogi Desert Kingdom Of Rambogi

34 Thursday October 9, 2008 7:49 PM

35 Weeping Valley Kingdom Of Ryhean

36 Thursday October 9, 2008 8:51 PM

37 Rhymn Kingdom Of Ryhean

38 Thursday October 9, 2008 10:10 PM

39 Rhymn Kingdom Of Ryhean

40 Thursday October 9, 2008 11:11 PM

DEDICATION

To my siblings.

You each distinctively inspire me.

Alison—for your adventurous spirit.

Kurran—for your loyalty and huge heart.

Nidhi—for your compassion and kindness.

Pooja—for your contagious laugh and zest.

Richie—for your grit and veracity.

Ruchi—for your utter devotion to family.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you for your support:

Thomas Dembie

Pooja Gulati

Appi & Jatinder Khanna

Komal & Simi Khosla

Marilena Macchia

Laura Marotta

Kurran Mehta

Richie Mehta

Sudhir & Suman Mehta

Alison Rodrigues

Elaine Rodrigues

Maureen & Percy Rodrigues

Neeta Tandon

For editing:

Sana Ali

Jay Chai

Dr. Michael Fong

Natalie Giosa

Karen Graham

Ramnik Minhas

Stephanie Sicoli

Jessica Vitale

For Mama’s Lullaby music:

Chris Uchida

Klanexia%20Map%20-%20Part%20II.jpgReluch%20%26%20Rambogi%20Zoom%20Map.jpgRyhean%20%26%20Bulor%20Zoom%20Map.jpgMama%27s%20Lullaby.jpgPART%20II%20COVER%20SHEET.jpg

Part II October 9, 2008

21

CANYONS OF JUKAH KINGDOM OF RAMBOGI

Mounted on my cud-chewing camel, I watched the slave caravan enter the narrow canyon. I was partially hidden behind a boulder perched at the edge of the reddish-brown cliff.

Centuries of flash floods had split the towering sandstone cliffs into a gorge so slender that sunlight only reached its rocky surface when at its zenith.

Escorted by heavy guard, hundreds of slaves, shackled and manacled, shuffled far below me. Unlike caravans I had raided over the past six months, this convoy had a far greater military presence.

The Sultan is becoming alarmed. Excellent.

How many? I asked in fluent Rambogease, fingering my dragon tooth necklace.

Nearly a hundred, I reckon, Desert Liberator, General Zobius Veerah said, squinting as he studied the convey. Half on horseback, half on foot.

Parched mountains surrounded Jukah, and the narrow gorge was the fastest way of reaching the port city from the vast desert. It was possible to reach the city by going around the cliffs, but it meant another week of travel. Jukah was the heart of the slave trade, a source of tremendous wealth for the Sultan and his allies. For the slave traders, a detour around the canyon was too risky, the additional trek endangering their livestock. A dead slave was worthless.

Despite the additional financial hardships they would incur, I wondered why the slave traders didn’t choose another path to the port city, even if it meant chartering a boat. The gorge was the perfect place for an ambush. There was nowhere to run or hide. Did the slave traders not realize that reaching Jukah a week later was better than not arriving at all? And what use were eighty soldiers against an army of liberated slaves? How many caravans had to be raided for them to realize this?

Are the Sultan and his men mindless fools?

As we waited for the right opportunity to strike, I settled comfortably on my camel and fondly patted his side. At first, I had ignorantly assumed that camels were gangly smelly beasts. Through time I became increasingly astonished by the creature’s desert savviness—two of its three eyelids kept sand and dust from its eyes; a large protruding bone over its eyebrows acted as sunshades; two-toed, soft cushioned feet allowed it to walk over the blistering sand; a fat-filled hump allowed it to need little water and survive weeks without food. Klaniss had designed the beast brilliantly for surviving the desert’s harsh environment.

Although I would never admit it, I had become rather attached to my hairy companion. For a moment, my thoughts fell on Shaye. I wondered how my dear falcon was doing. But that was another time, another life.

Zobius tapped my shoulder, indicating it was time.

I rubbed my swollen belly and cleared my mind, focusing on the task. I pulled a hand-held mirror and angled it at the torrid sun, signaling my soldiers on the opposite side of the canyon.

With a collective twang of bowstrings, a barrage of arrows whizzed towards the Sultan’s soldiers traveling along the bottom of the gorge. A third of them fell before they could raise their shields.

Battle cries echoed through the canyon.

Below, the caravan stopped, the horses neighing apprehensively. Swords drawn and shields raised, the remaining soldiers and slave traders turned anxiously, searching for the source of the cacophony and arrows.

Hollering wildly, hundreds of my warriors appeared behind boulders and caves surrounding the caravan. They used ropes to scale down the side of the gorge.

Despite the Sultan’s men being vastly outnumbered, their fear of the Sultan’s wrath prevented them from surrendering. They could not afford to lose this caravan. At a strategic disadvantage, the Sultan’s men formed a defensive circle and fought bravely, but vainly, against the tide of insurgents sweeping down the gorge like a landslide.

The battle ended quickly, and the parched canyon floor quenched its thirst with the blood of the Sultan’s soldiers and slave traders.

I turned to Zobius, and nodded. Together, we navigated our camels down a treacherous path to the remnants of the battle.

Hail, Desert Liberator! cried one member of my army.

May Klaniss bless you with long life and fortune! exclaimed another.

There was a collective cheer as I raised my curved sword in triumph.

Valor and honor! I shouted.

Valor and honor! they roared.

Although my sword was a finely crafted weapon forged by a blacksmith we had freed half a year earlier, it was nothing compared to Nia. Losing my treasured sword during the storm in the Gulf of Rambogi was excruciating, and I felt frustrated by the limitations of my new weapon. Nia had felt a part of me, an extension of my arm. Worse, by losing Nia I felt as if I had lost the spirit of my aunt, Queen Nia. I had blemished her memory by losing her extraordinary gift to the sea.

We rode up to Alexa Ndlynch, an indomitable general who had led the victorious battle. She wore chain-mail, a white head scarf, and a menacing scowl. A circular shield was draped across her back.

With cropped, fiery red hair, a sinewy body, and a hideous scar that ran from her right temple down to the edge of her chin, many failed to see past her masculine qualities. A ruthless warrior, Alexa was feared and respected by her soldiers. When first meeting Alexa, I too had been intimidated by her presence. Now, I only saw a striking, confident woman who had persevered through astonishing loss and pain. I considered her one of my most trusted military advisors and a loyal friend.

How many lost? I asked her.

Her eyes blazed with intelligence and sorrow.

Two. One slipped along the side of the gorge during the attack and broke his neck. The other by the enemy’s sword.

Injuries?

A few cuts and bruises. A successful operation, Desert Liberator.

And how many slaves? Zobius asked.

Over three hundred, Alexa replied. Mainly young men, some children.

Cyman, a burly commander, ran up to us. Two soldiers followed behind holding a trunk.

Desert Liberator, Generals, behold! Cyman said, breathless.

The two soldiers opened the trunk. It was full of diamonds, emeralds, pearls and sapphires.

"This is one of ten trunks, all filled with treasure!" Cyman said.

I smiled at the scintillating gems. I wonder what this is for?

A bribe, perhaps? Alexa said.

Or a reward? Zobius said.

Whatever the reason, it is for no good, I said. Thank you, Cyman. Secure the bounty. It will prove most valuable to further our great cause.

Cyman saluted—his right hand touched his heart as he bowed his head—and motioned his men to follow him with the trunk.

Alexa, make sure sentries are posted on all sides of the gorge, I said. We do not want to be attacked by surprise while liberating these slaves.

She nodded, her expression grave.

I grinned and slapped her shoulder. "Smile! Tonight we celebrate and feast in your honor."

Feast in the honor of those who lost their lives today and now soar with the dragons.

Let it be so, I said, nodding solemnly.

The prisoners? Alexa asked.

I eyed the surviving men from the slave caravan being bound.

Release them on foot to face their Sultan’s wrath, I said. Make sure they have water.

Alexa galloped away to carry out my orders.

I rode with Zobius past the line of camels and horses laden with supplies. The men and women of my liberation army—who removed the valuables from the dead and piled the bodies—paused to salute me.

Vultures circled above the canyon, waiting for a feast that had become a weekly certainty.

The chained slaves grew silent as I approached them, aware that this light-skinned, pregnant woman of importance controlled their fate.

My friends, I said with a commanding voice, I liberate you from the slavery and hardships Aazar subjected you to. Once you are free and fed, you may search for your families and begin to rebuild your lives.

The slaves wept with relief, many thanking Klaniss for heeding their prayers.

You also have another choice, I continued. "You are welcome to join this army and fight against the tyranny of Aazar. Every soldier in this army was once a slave or has lost a loved one to slavery, and would gladly sacrifice their life to prevent another Rambogeasian from being bound in chains again. Join us, and we shall liberate the desert from tyranny. The choice is yours. As free men and women it is your right to chose your path."

Beginning at the front of the procession, my soldiers began to unshackle the slaves’ chains with the keys they had found on the dead Slave Master. Once free, each person was given water and food.

Raucous pleas for freedom and water erupted among the slaves near the end of the line. They were too fragile and hungry to patiently wait their turn. Desperation filled their ragged faces. My heart went out to them.

I clicked my tongue, and my camel fell to his knees.

Shall I help you down? Zobius asked, noticing me struggling to dismount.

I could dismount this beast while delivering this baby and still not need your help.

He smiled and bowed.

I walked down the line of slaves, handing out bread and water. As I tended to a particularly emaciated slave, a familiar voice cried out in a language I had not heard in over half a year.

Kaila! It is you! O praise Klaniss!

My heart soared. I whirled around, scanning the haggard faces. And then I saw him: his face covered in dust and blood; his long, silver and blond hair wild and unbound; his usual clean-shaven face grizzly and dirty; his body malnourished and gaunt. Only his bright-green eyes were the same, radiating strength and kindness.

Jayden! I cried, running up to him and fiercely embracing him. What are you doing here?

Searching the desert for a miracle, Jayden sobbed, desperately clutching me as if I was an apparition who would disappear if he let go. I prayed for this moment. Do my eyes deceive me? Is this a mirage?

Hardly, I laughed tearfully. You look dreadful. Are you injured?

No.

Wait here, I shall return in a moment.

Where can I possibly go? he grinned, holding up his manacles.

I hurried to the front of the procession, retreived a key from a soldier, and unlocked Jayden from his chains.

Child, what happened? he asked, rubbing his raw wrists.

I smiled warmly, helping him to his feet.

Your child shall soon have a child of her own.

In truth, I was referring to your hair. You chopped it.

A necessary evil in the desert, I said, noticing him study my pregnant frame.

And when did this—

Save your questions and strength, dear friend. First rest and quench your thirst. There shall be plenty of time to talk.

*      *      *

A dome of stars sparkled over the desert. A full moon cast shadows over the dunes, creating an illusion of a great undulating sea.

We had set up camp ten miles from the Canyons of Jukah, in a valley where three enormous hills of sands converged. Clustered around dozens of fires, my liberation army celebrated our latest victory with song, dance, food and drink.

"For one who spends all his time with camels, what do you know of a woman’s love?" Zobius asked Hainar, a reedy man with tousled hair and a bushy beard.

Hainar, who had joined our cause six months earlier, trained our camels for the harsh desert travel and warfare. He had also taught many—including myself—to become skilled cameleers. Upon his arrival, it had been Hainar who had convinced me to abandon the use of horses, and instead, focus on camels, praising their incredible endurance. He argued that horses were far more difficult to manage in such arid, inhospitable conditions. I had reluctantly agreed, and sold or bartered every horse we possessed. After six months, I had yet to question my decision. Hainar was excellent at his duties and an indispensable asset to the cause.

In order for Jayden to understand what was being spoken at the campfire, I was translating between Rambogease and Reluchian. It was exhilarating to speak in my native tongue after so many months.

I was with a beautiful woman for many years, Hainar replied, taking a swig of cactus wine, a potent drink fermented from the flowers of an indigenous cactus. We knew each other as children and grew up falling in love. She was my heart, my soul, my sun, my life. When I was with her, I experienced a happiness that I thought only existed in Paradise.

What happened? Jayden asked, looking a decade younger after a bath and shave. His golden hair with streaks of silver sparkled in the firelight, and was tied with a black ribbon. He wore a white cotton robe traditional to the Rambogease.

She left me for another man. She yearned to settle down, have children, and refused to wait for me to complete this quest.

How tragic. What did you do?

I let her go, he said with a despondent sigh. And then reacquainted myself with my two good friends—my left and right hands!

There was a moment of surprise before the crowd around the fire erupted with laughter.

I forgot how callused they are! Hainar cackled, displaying his palms.

Jayden gaped, startled, when I finished translating what Hainar had said.

I smiled, remembering the first night I had sat by the fire with many of these people. Although I had been startled by their crude display of humor, I was impressed at their uncanny ability to laugh without inhibition despite the unspeakable hardships they suffered. The Rambogease owned virtually nothing and dwelled in one of the most destitute regions on the continent, but were still the most kind and generous people I knew. They embraced any adversity Klaniss gave them. In the land where the sun was known as ‘fire dragon’s breath,’ they lived with remarkable perseverance and tenacity.

Seven months ago, after discovering Lukaire in ruins—and any remanants of a resistance against Magnus decimated—I was consumed with remorse. As I sailed back to Nimph, I had listened with amazement as Zobius and the galley’s crew laughed and joked for two days.

I was astonished.

Zobius had lost his brother, and the young captain was financially ruined since his main trade route with Lukaire was destroyed, but still they laughed as if they were on a leisure sail. I envied them, yearning to clear my burdened conscience with as much ease.

As we sailed back to the desert, I realized the only time I had felt alive since Magnus’ betrayal was emancipating the slaves from the Slave Master. I was struck with an epiphany. The number of slaves in Rambogi outnumbered their oppressors at least a 100-to-1. All they needed was a leader to organize, train and inspire them. There was no way the Slave Masters could oppress them if the Rambogease united.

I shared my plan with Zobius. We would gather and train an army of liberated slaves to abolish slavery and overthrow Sultan Aazar. With enough support, I argued, the Sultan’s evil regime would be unable to maintain power. Zobius readily agreed. We began recruiting the moment we returned to the desert kingdom.

Thank you, O Enlightened, Omnipotent Klaniss for answering my prayers, I thought as I rubbed my bulging stomach. Thank you for giving me purpose, for atoning my failures, for showing me how to live again.

A boy seated beside Zobius began to rapidly gesture with his hands.

What does he say, Zobius? I asked. I had only been able to learn a few words in sign language, and never understood Jhumpa when he signed so quickly.

Jhumpa says: ‘Hainar, your words are like a new born camel learning how to walk—crude and amusing.’

Once the laughter had died down, Jayden asked: The boy cannot speak?

He has no tongue, Zobius said after I translated.

Jhumpa shook his head sadly.

Was it taken by a Slave Master? Jayden asked.

Nay. The boy’s father permanently silenced him when he was a newborn.

Why?

The cruel bastard could not tolerate Jhumpa’s crying.

There was a grave silence throughout the crowd, the only sound coming from the camel hump fat sizzling and popping in the fire’s intense heat.

Jhumpa gestured to Zobius.

Zobius smiled. "He says: ‘My father was like a monkey in heat—aggressive, wild and very hairy.’"

There were chuckles among the crowd, breaking the gloomy mood.

Tell me, Zobius, does the boy always communicate like this? Jayden asked.

Jhumpa gestured enthusiastically. Zobius translated: ‘Your questions are like the sands of the desert—plentiful and tiresome.’

Yes, enough talk, Hainar declared. Jhumpa, play us something.

The boy pulled a wooden three-holed pipe from his pocket, and played a melancholic, haunting tune.

My heart simultaneously soared and ached as I vividly recalled all those wonderful moments I had shared with my mother and sister with the harp. Not only had I lost my family, but I had lost the one thing I cherished most—music.

I absentmindedly rubbed my swollen belly, praying my child would not suffer the same fate.

You will have music in your life, my sweet baby, I murmured.

Jhumpa’s music became so moving that once he was done the entire crowd was brought to tears.

And I thought my marriage was depressing, a man shouted.

Everyone laughed as the man’s wife smacked him.

Jayden brushed aside his tears, looking at Jhumpa with wonder. That is the most poignant music I have ever heard.

Jhumpa’s talent on the pipe is extraordinary, I said, proudly placing my hand on the boy’s shoulder. The way his tongue was cut allows him to play in a way no other can. Klaniss transformed his father’s heinous act into a miracle.

My enormous frame made standing an arduous chore. When I was finally