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"What will we do?" asked the youngest of the
captains.
"I know what I will do now!" exclaimed another
officer, Pianmos of Malabashi, and he lunged at the chest of the Sword.
"Stop, fool!" the others warned.
But Pianmos opened the trunk, took up the Sword of Fire and
brandished it over his head with a shout of triumph. Even a few minutes later, no one present could
agree on what had happened: a glow, a
crackle, a spontaneous flare, perhaps a ray of light that entered through the
window. When they uncovered their ears
and turned to look, Pianmos lay on the ground, with hands and face burnt, and from
his body rose wisps of smoke. Zemal,
still sheathed, rested on the purple rug surrounding the bed.
At that moment the heavy door frames opened. All eyes turned. There
were three men in the doorway that brought with them the cold shudders of dawn on
their black cloaks. The three seemed one
and the same: skinny, heads shaven and
veined, hands resting on staffs that lengthened their thin fingers, feet bare
and calloused.
"It’s the Pinakles..." whispered the captains
among themselves.
Although they had never seen them, everyone knew that they
were the priests in charge of guarding Zemal
at the death of its owners. It was said that they dwelt somewhere in Áinar, at more than
ten days' journey by road. How could
they have appeared there at the right time? Could it be that Kartine, the goddess of destiny, had
revealed the precise moment of Hairón’s death even before he became sick?
"We see that someone has tried to desecrate Zemal," one of them said, with a
voice of emery.
"Nobody can take the Sword of Fire if it is not their
rightful place," continued the second.
"And we shall reveal that rightful position only at the
temple of Tarimán, in Koras, the first day of the month of Kamaldanil," finished
the third.
The first of the Pinakles knelt, took the Sword of Fire by
the sheath, and put it under his cloak. Then
the three Pinakles turned their backs to the captains of the Red Horde and went
back from where they had come without anyone blocking their way.
Aperión, Kratos, Ghiem and Siharmas, the four greatest
masters, watched on. A new contest for
the Sword of Fire had just been left open. Only one and a half months remained until the
first of Kamaldanil. Which of them or of the other Tahedoráns of Tramórea would
be the chosen one?
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