Author's Note
After such a long hiatus, I hope I still have some readers left. I apologize profusely for leaving everyone hanging in a cliffhanger. Anyway, without further adieu (and long explanations of why I was MIA for the past several weeks), I present to all of you…Chapter 29 of Truth Be Told!

CHAPTER 29

Nadir groaned at the improbability of it all, shaking his fists and looking to the heavens as if addressing Allah himself. "What fate is this, to allow me to die in a chamber designed by the hands of my own brother?"

"It's indeed mine, but I had no hand in it's construction," Erik explained, still musing over the odds of being caught within a chamber of his own creation

Nadir shot him an irritated look. "Oh… that makes me feel so much better. Care to tell me what the hell the difference is?"

"The difference is that I know it's weakness," Erik retorted hotly. "When I designed it, I never put it to use because I knew it was imperfect." He paused but a moment, reflecting on his times in Persia, before announcing a name he knew Nadir would recognize. "But Basirat did not."

Erik had worked many long hours on all his creations for the shah's mother. He had logged and sketched all his ideas in meticulous detail and during this time Basirat, one of the khanum's closest escorts, was sent to keep an eye on him.

"Basirat?" Nadir's eyes lit up with puzzled recognition. "The man assigned to oversee your projects for the khanum?"

Erik nodded. "I should have known he'd be the one to take possession of the manuals I had left behind in Ashraf."

"Why would you leave detailed documents like that behind?" Nadir demanded.

With an unamused look, Erik answered, "You didn't exactly give me much time to pack, Daroga."

Nadir's face was stern and he spoke as if scolding a child. "I told you to grab things of importance that night I came to supposedly arrest you!"

"And I did," Erik answered simply.

"Jewels you pilfered from the shah and countless others?"

"That held importance to me living. Besides, you didn't exactly put up much of a fight when I gave you some of those jewels just before we parted ways," Erik smirked.

"I should have turned you in when I had the chance," Nadir mumbled under his breath.

The mock sentiment was not lost on Erik. He heard every word as clearly as if the crowd were nonexistent. "You and I both know you couldn't have had that on your precious conscience, now could you?" He winked.

Erik could practically see Nadir fuming in righteous indignation. He was actually pleased to have the Persian upset with him instead of focusing on their impending doom to no end.

Nadir's fists clenched firmly at his side. "I'm beginning to rethink what I told you about the differences of killing for perverted pleasure versus that of self-defense. I should like to strangle you myself right now for my own satisfaction!"

With a wry smile, Erik gripped Nadir's shoulders. "Look, why don't we discuss this after I get us out of here? Then you can continue this absurd desire of appointing yourself as my keeper."

"By all means, old boy," Nadir replied sarcastically, waving his masked companion toward the first door. "Don't let me interrupt you."

Erik walked cautiously toward the iron door and stopped in front of it. As expected, there was a sharp click as the middle panel recessed into the door and within seconds it was replaced by an etched message upon marbled stone. With his arms folded over his chest, he stood tall and read the inscription closely.

I come once in a minute, twice in a moment, and never in a thousand years.

Chuckling to himself, Erik called out to the Persian. "Is there anything on the dais that looks like the letter M?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" Nadir replied.

"Press it," Erik urged.

"Allah, preserve us," Nadir muttered to himself, extending his hand and pressing a stylized character on the pedestal before him.

The loud clamor of a gong being struck reverberated beyond the door. A few muttered their approval, whilst the others shouted their disappointment of the first riddle being solved.

Nadir breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew their trial was far from being over. "At least we've gotten through this first door in one piece." He wiped his brow with the back of his left hand and prepared himself for the next riddle.

Erik turned to Nadir with a smug grin upon his face. "Were you worried, Daroga?" He laughed.

"Let me remind you, there are quite a few doors left," Nadir reminded him.

Nodding, Erik moved off to the second door. He stood before it a moment, puzzled at the simplicity of this newest riddle.

My top and bottom are twins of a kind.

The middle of me makes one body combined.

I'm used to pass time and provide quite a thrill.

If I stand tall and still, run faster I will.

Erik rolled his eyes, feeling his intelligence being insulted. "Basirat chose these riddles for this chamber?" He sighed, just before calling out to Nadir. "If there's anything resembling an hourglass, press it."

Another gong rang out as the Persian pressed the symbol upon the pedestal and he dared to hope they may find a way out of this after all.


Sebastien eyed Alhena steadily, watching her toss the silk coverings that once adorned her forearms onto the long cedar bench behind her. Sighing blissfully, she rubbed at her exposed skin as she walked over to the enclosed window closest to her. He tried to appear uninterested as he glanced out of the corner of his eyes. She ran her hands along her bare smooth skin, her delicate fingers brushing ever so gently against her sun-kissed body.

Beads of sweat began to form against his forehead, and suddenly he was feeling 'a bit warm' as she had stated earlier. He didn't dare to admit or acknowledge why, however.

"Could you open the window there?" She pointed across the other end of the room.

"You're already up. Do it yourself," he suggested gruffly, uninterested in doing the menial task she requested of him.

Without a word, she moved across the foot of the bed and past him.

He watched her curvaceous form hungrily as she reached up to undo the gold latch which kept the shutters firmly in place. The steady heaving of her bosom beckoned him fiercely, and as she pulled the window open, the air blew through her long sweeping tresses completing the image of ultimate seduction. The soft light of the moon captured parts of her glistening body in an almost ethereal glow. There she stood for a moment, taking in the cool night breeze and brushing her raven-black hair to the side with her fingers.

Sebastien crossed his legs, fighting back the ache which was ever present before him.

Her own eyes had been carefully on him as well, but for completely different reasons altogether. She could sense his eyes coveting her flesh intently and that last single action of his spoke volumes to her. He was playing right into her hands and she grinned inwardly at how simple it was to bend the male libido to her will.

Doing her best to fumble her fingers across her back, Alhena sighed helplessly. "How about you help me with this?" She asked softly, pulling at the satin ties at her back. "I'd like to take a bath, if that's alright?"

Sebastien raised his eyebrow suspiciously. "Don't you dress and undress yourself on a daily basis?"

"It depends on what I'm wearing, but anything with ties at the back is usually done for me by one of the other girls of the house."

Sebastien made no move to help her, opting to eye her a few moments in silence, instead. No matter how simple the request was, he knew he had to be careful where she was concerned. He couldn't put anything past her, though he was certain he could handle any situation should she cause some type of mischief.

Alhena grew impatient as she awaited his response. "If you're intimidated by a few pieces of string, why don't you fetch one of the servants of the house?"

Her insinuations of turning him into her house boy was intolerable; certainly not a role he cared to partake in. "Let me make things perfectly clear, for it appears you have no concept of exactly why I am here. I'm not about to start catering to your every whim and that includes running about the halls while you devise a means of escape." Moving off of the bed and approaching her slowly, he continued. "I hate to disappoint you, but that's not going to happen." He stood before her, eyeing her coldly. "Now, turn around."

His response was exactly what she had anticipated. Though she had doubted him for a split second before he had called her bluff, he ultimately followed through on what she knew he could not possibly pass up; a more revealing glimpse of a body he had been actively stalking with his eyes since his very first day within the house.

She held her long hair off to the side as he stood behind her, threading his fingers within the laces. With each loop he pulled free, his movements slowed at an unhurried pace as he took in the sight of each inch of slowly exposed skin. The long scars at her back did not hinder his eagerness for more. His desire to have her for his own overpowered all else. He had been with many women who paled in comparison with their unmarked beauty. Alhena possessed an air about her that no woman could match and no man could resist. It was that bewitching spell that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Done," he said abruptly, shaking his thoughts free.

She turned slowly, one arm across her front to hold her top in place and the other letting her hair cascade to her back once more. She thanked him in a slight, yet sultry tone and then turned away from him toward the bathroom.

He watched her disappear beyond the bathroom, entranced in the very spot she stood just moments before. It was not until the muted sounds of running water brought him back to his senses, allowing him to return to his lounged position upon the bed.

It was the thoughts of her naked beyond him, a mere single wall separating them both, which kept Sebastien from falling asleep upon the flamboyant comforts of Faraj's bed. He had thought about joining her several times, though each thought would abruptly end with images of Faraj's scimitar cutting clear through his neck for consorting with his Tigress.

It was not long before he decided there was no harm in simply checking in on her. As he was about to swing his legs off to the side of the bed, Alhena emerged from beyond the bathroom doors, draped in nothing more than a long towel.

Walking over to the dresser across from Sebastien, she retrieved an ornate hairbrush from the top drawer before moving to the foot of the bed and taking a seat. Unraveling the neatly tied bundle of hair atop her head, she then began to brush through her semi-damp hair.

With each calculated pass of her hand, he watched her steadily. Droplets of bath water covered the visible parts of her skin in an entrancing shimmer. "Get dressed!" He ordered her in frustration, uncertain of how much more he could take of her seemingly innocent yet blatantly arousing display before him.

Ignoring his demand, she glanced over her left shoulder. Her eyes met his with an intensity of seriousness and fear of what she knew would come to pass. "He's killing me tonight, you know?"

Sebastien was not altogether surprised. "I'm sure that anything less would be unbefitting of the crimes against your master."

"I didn't ask you to comment on a fate that I am very aware of," she replied stiffly.

"Then what are you asking me?"

Alhena stood up and rounded the foot of the bed, closing the distance between her and Sebastien. "If I am to die this night, I wish not to leave this plane of existence feeling…" Adding a slight dramatic pause, she turned her head, looking away from him briefly. She acted upon a feigned fear to bear her deepest most secrets to him.

Partly curious, but more so on guard, Sebastien got up, and stood before her. His very presence loomed over her, demanding attention. "If this is some sort of trick…"

Turning to meet his eyes with equal intensity, she continued. "As you well know, I am a woman accustomed to a particular way of life and thus so I require an inordinate amount of companionship, to put it lightly."

Sebastien knew very well of what she spoke of. Under different circumstances, he would not think twice of taking advantage of the situation right there where he stood. Though, these were not normal circumstances and she was definitely not one to be handled lightly, "In a manner of speaking…" Gripping his chin with his right hand, he took a moment to consider his options. "I understand the subtleness of your plea, but what you request of me…"

"As I've said before," Alhena interrupted him, "I am feeling… unsatisfied. I wish only to fulfill my womanly wants before this night is through."

"I'm more than capable of giving her what she craves." The hunger within him begged to be sated. "But is this all what it appears to be?" His more rational side argued, insisting not to be ignored so easily. It was his fear of being caught, not only by Faraj, but to be deceived by Alhena, that kept his mind conflicted. "If I could only be certain…"

Alhena knew that the longer Sebastien remained silent with his thoughts, mulling over the validity of her plight, the odds of him refusing her would grow. That was something she was determined to prevent. "Come now, Sebastien," she began, adding further justification to her plea. She ran a finger up his arm, appealing to him. "I've seen the way you've looked at me on countless occasions."

Her touch against his skin set off a wave of emotions he had tried so hard to keep at bay. It was not until that single touch that he realized the extent of power she held over him. This night, she would be his. And to be certain she would remain under his control, he devised a plan of his own. "After much consideration, I do believe I've come up with a reasonable solution to satisfy both of our needs," he grinned lecherously.

Running her hand up against his chest, she asked playfully, "Is that so?"

Sebastien grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned closer to her. "I think you'll enjoy what I have in mind."

It wasn't long until she found out exactly what he meant by what he had in mind.

Within an instant, he pulled the towel free from around her body and began to tear two long strips to use to restrain her. He pushed her onto the bed without regard and immediately got on top of her, bringing her hands above her head to secure them tightly. "I apologize for being so forceful," he announced, in a perverse manner. "But this will insure that you won't try anything. Whether your plea is genuine or not, I can't take the risk of being wrong." He nuzzled her neck wildly, practically biting the skin as if to draw blood. As Alhena cringed internally at the thought of his movements upon her, he eyed her in dominant finality. "After all, I don't trust you in either case." He growled with a passion only reserved for rabid beasts, lowering himself between her legs. "Prepare yourself for a night you will not soon forget."

"And neither will you!" Alhena thought, bracing herself for what was to come next. Sebastien crushed his mouth over her warmth, and as disgusted as she was of his actions, it was exactly where she needed him to be. She raised her legs up, locking them around his neck in a vice-like grip, taking advantage of her bound hands to gain additional leverage. In a panic, he fought against her hold, attempting to pry her legs from around his neck with his hands, but from his position he found it impossible to break the hold she had on him. She steadied her grip, applying pressure like that of a snake within it's coils; squeezing the very breath from him.

After several long minutes of struggling, Sebastien's movements began to relax. With a choked gasp, he collapsed limply. Alhena held her position a few moments longer to be certain his condition was genuine and not artificial for her benefit. Finally, she released her hold, kicking him unceremoniously onto the floor.

Taking a few deep breaths, she tugged on her restraints, noting with grudging respect that even in his haste, he had done a good job. Fortunately he hadn't noticed she had had her forearms tensed as tight as she could as he bound her. Once she had relaxed them, she was left with an almost imperceptible amount of slack. It would be enough. Without a lot of room to move her hands, she worked carefully, and used her tightly bound right hand to bend her left thumb backwards. Although painful, she managed to slip it between the skin of her wrist, and the bindings. With her thumb applying outward pressure, she was able to free her hand with a few hard tugs.

Smiling grimly, she quickly freed her other hand and swiftly moved to get dressed. She noted a clock on the wall. In a few moments the guard would be changing. That would be her best time to escape.


Several more doors had been disabled, as the two men figured out the riddles that lay before them. The crowd above them had begun whispering as each gong sounded. Faraj however, looked intently at the pair; murder in his eyes. With each moment, he silently prayed they would guess an answer incorrectly, subjecting them to the various threats behind the doors. "How do these fools know how to answer?" He muttered to himself, his hand caressing the hilt of his heavy scimitar.

"Don't get hasty boys!" The drunken voice from earlier yelled out, assaulting Erik's ears once more. "I can't believe a couple of raggedy looking fools, such as yourselves, have lasted this long!"

Looking up from the latest door, Erik could see the imbecile above him, leaning over the railing. "Daroga? How far would you say the balcony is to here?"

Puzzled, Nadir replied, "About fifteen to twenty feet, give or take. Why?"

"Just checking…" Erik deftly uncoiled his Punjab lasso and fingered the noose carefully.

Once more the inebriated voice sailed down to them. "How a couple of beggars like you two got this far, I'll never know!" His swaying motions caused his cup to overflow, splashing down upon the masked man beneath him.

Erik glared up, locking his gaze upon the drunken man above him as he ran his hands through his now damp hair.

The man's puffy face was flushed with both drink and the weight of one accustomed to labor no heavier than lifting a fork to his mouth.

Erik spun and hurled his rope upwards, the circle of the noose settling instantly around the neck of the drunken man. "I did warn you, after all." Pulling hard, he smiled in grim satisfaction as the man tumbled over the edge, plunging and crashing hard onto the dirt floor of the arena.

Dazed, the man looked around. A moment later his confusion was ended. The point of Erik's sword plunged directly into his chest, immediately piercing his heart. With a stammered groan, he fell to the floor, the blood immediately pooling around him.

The crowd reacted with a hushed silence as they looked on, their whispers unintelligible to the pair below. Faraj merely sat upon his throne, stone-faced and unaffected by the display.

Erik crossed the space between him and Nadir. "Keep the faith, Daroga. The Comte is not among these spectators. I trust he is acting behind the scenes as well to get us out of here."

"Do I look worried?" Nadir asked. "Personally, I expected to be dead several days ago. This is an interesting reprieve, I must say."

"Then let us end it here." Erik pulled his sword free from the dead man's body and returned to the riddle on the door, concentration apparent on the visible side of his features.

Five hundred begins it, five hundred ends it,

Five in the middle is seen;

The First of all letters, and the first of all figures,

Take up their stations between.

Join all together, and then you will bring

Before you the name of an eminent king.

Erik frowned, unsure of what to make of this one. It wasn't one he was familiar with and certainly not one of the many verses he had written himself for this chamber. "Daroga? Come have a look at this one," he called out to his friend.

Nadir approached, keeping a wary eye on the men in the balcony above them, unable to shake the feeling that at any time a spear or arrow may be unleashed upon them if they weren't careful. Glancing at the riddle, his eyes narrowed. "Looks like gibberish to me."

"Thanks, you're a lot of help," Erik replied dryly.

A low growl could be heard from behind the heavy door, as if one or many large beasts waited just inches behind the barrier.

"I'm guessing we don't want to get this wrong though," Nadir said in a concerned tone.

Viewing their apparent confusion, Faraj smiled and stood up. Turning to look at his guests, he proclaimed with a broad grin, "Aha! We may have some entertainment after all!"

"I really dislike that man," Nadir whispered under his breath. He diverted his gaze from Faraj, once again considering the purpose of the metal bars which crisscrossed the ceiling above him. Before he could analyze it further, he heard the scuff of boots on the sandy floor beside him. "Erik?"

Erik seemed not to hear him and instead stood up straight, his eyes alight, and fled towards the raised dais in earnest.

Nadir sighed and followed, catching up as Erik was studying the dozens of letters and symbols before him.

"I've got it!" With a gloved hand, Erik reached out and pressed a symbol D.

Nadir winced as nothing happened. No door opened, but there was also no gong to symbolize their success either.

Erik continued to press another symbol A, and then two more; V and I. "King David of Israel would certainly qualify as eminent," he smiled, knowing Nadir would know of the man in question. His friend was well versed in both history and religious cultures.

"I don't get it," Nadir stated, clearly baffled.

"Roman numerals. Tricky, but not impossible. I'll explain later, if you'd like." He returned to the initial symbol he had started with and pressed it, completing the answer of the riddle.

"No, I mean I don't get that you knew the answer. When did you read the bible?" Nadir snickered softly, ignoring the glare Erik shot him.

The sounding gong interrupted their words and brought them both a wide smile. Faraj's dark face, on the other hand, was livid with obvious fury. To make matters worse, a few of the spectators clapped in admiration at their success. That ceased immediately upon seeing Faraj's dangerous gaze glowering at them. His anger was evident and the intensity of it caused anyone meeting his stare to draw back in terror.

Standing up, he leaned over the railing, clapping dramatically. "Well done, my mysterious friends. You are nearly through this trial. Only four doors left."

A faint smile shown briefly upon Nadir's face before Faraj continued his address. "My guests are getting bored and restless, however. It's time to make things more… interesting." The big man moved to a side wall and pressed yet another hidden indentation. For a moment, nothing happened.

"Get down and press as close as you can to this pedestal!" Erik directed, assuming a similar position on the other side of the dais.

Confused, Nadir did as he was instructed. He glanced at Erik and followed his gaze up to the roof, where a strange metallic clanking could be heard. It was as if a giant machine were starting up...


Author's Note x2
I assume most of you have read Kay's Phantom, but in case some of you haven't, I referenced it just a bit for the explanation of why Faraj had Erik's chamber plans. I did create the character of Basirat for this story though. He was not in Kay's book. Hopefully I was able to generalize the idea of what had happened. I tried not to focus too much on that part in case I was confusing anyone. As for future updates, I will be posting on my weekly schedule once again, but I'm moving the days back to Fridays. Thanks for bearing with me during my sudden absence. -hugs-

Disclaimer
The riddles found in this chapter do not belong to me. They are the property of various riddle sites that I have browsed online. I did notice, however, that many (the majority, in fact) did not state author names, so I apologize for not being able to provide actual credit where it is due.