The Bones of the Old Ones (Dabir and Asim) by Howard Andrew Jones Read Free Book Online

come to us because she was pursued by the same men who’d ambushed us in the square. He did not get far, for none of us could fail to note that the woman’s attention was riveted by something on my left.
    “What is the matter, young lady?” the governor asked.
    “I would like to see that spear,” she said flatly as she stepped past.
    “Of course. Be my guest.” The governor’s hand waved belated permission; he turned back to Dabir with an expression of bemusement that transformed into mild irritation when the scholar, frowning, broke off his report to follow Najya. The governor wrinkled his brow at me instead. I offered empty palms and went after Dabir.
    Najya was apparently fascinated by an ivory spear thrown in sharp relief before its shadow on the pale wall. It was long as a cavalry lance, and hung a few feet below a heavy, dark axe. The latter seemed the better weapon to me, but the woman had eyes only for the spear.
    I wondered why I had never paid it heed before this moment, and I suppose it was because I had not expected to see anything strange upon the governor’s walls, or that it was usually hidden in the shadows.
    The old spear was carved all from a single piece, haft and blade, though I could scarcely imagine the size of the animal from which it had come. The tawny surface was exceptionally smooth save for strange carvings of sticklike men bearing spears against … the shapes were indeterminate. Blobs with fangs? The art was rudimentary. Upon the blade was a slightly larger and more detailed image of a manlike figure charging with a spear at another figure twice his size.
    Najya advanced slowly toward it, her gaze unwavering.
    Dabir had come up beside her. “Is this what you seek?”
    The woman flinched almost as if physically assaulted, and stopped her forward progression. She turned her head to him and blinked as if clearing her vision.
    “Yes.” Breathing heavily, she looked again at the weapon, then at Dabir. The governor and Shabouh joined us, their expressions puzzled.
    “It is like hearing a distant horn,” Najya continued in a distracted way. “The closer I come to one, the better I hear the call.”
    “How many do you hear?” Dabir asked.
    “Four.” She was no longer looking at him. “This one is loudest because the others are so far away.”
    “How long have you felt this pull?” Dabir asked.
    She stared at him for a long moment and something changed in her eyes.
    “What is happening, Dabir?” the governor asked. “Is she afflicted with madness?”
    Dabir faced him only briefly. “I beg your patience, Governor.”
    Najya blinked hard as a man will when trying to stave off sleep while standing sentry. “What is it you said?”
    Dabir studied her for a moment before speaking: “You say that you are pulled toward the spear. How long have you felt that?”
    She looked down and away, and when she replied her voice was very soft. “I do not wish you to think me foolish, so I did not speak of it. I’m afraid this is something that the wizard has done. I never … I just wish to return home.” She raised her head and then, almost against her will, faced the wall and the spear once more. She took a half step toward it.
    Dabir interposed his body between the wall and the woman. His voice was kind but firm. “I do not recommend coming any closer to that weapon.”
    She only stared at him.
    “Why should she not?” the governor asked. “What is happening?”
    My friend looked as though he were about to make some sobering pronouncement. Instead, he asked him a question. “Do you know from where this spear comes?”
    “It was on the wall of the palace when I was appointed to my post,” the governor answered. “So were most of these.” He turned reluctantly to the astrologer. “Shabouh, you served the previous governor. Do you know anything of it?”
    Shabouh bowed his gray head. “It has always hung here, Excellency, at least to my knowledge. I honestly paid it no heed until