“My name is Zanon, and I am here to tell this young man where he can find his Transmitter.”
“You’re from Starr Hill, is that right?”
“I am. And you are Obed the Teacher. I know you don’t approve of who we are or what we believe, but I beseech you to let me speak openly to Steward about the matter that is most urgent on his heart.”
Obed looked at Steward, and Steward nodded. Might as well hear the man out.
Obed’s lips thinned. “You must speak clearly and leave us then as quickly as you came.”
He sat on the floor in front of a couch, motioning to Obed and Steward, who joined him. “Steward, we have learned of your journey and your encounter with the king through a Transmitter. We know the king wishes you to hear his voice once again so that he may lead you to himself. We have a Transmitter, and I will take you to it so that your journey may be complete.”
Steward fought to catch his breath. Was this a trap? Was he being deceived? Or was this his last chance to hear the king’s voice?
This is the first person in this city who claims to have a Transmitter. I have to trust this man. It might be my only opportunity.
“When do we go?”
Obed glared at Steward and gave a quick shake of his head. “How do we know we can trust this man? He may be from the populace setting a trap for us to condemn ourselves. It is not safe, Steward.”
Zanon held his hand out. “No, it is not safe. But what I am telling you is true. We meet three times a week on Starr Hill. We have to vary the dates and times because those who seek to annihilate us are watching for an opportunity to attack. I will not tell you where or when, but when I come for you, you must be ready to go. Do you understand?”
Obed and Steward both nodded, and Zanon looked at Obed. “You are going also?”
Obed smiled at Steward and then looked back at Zanon. “Yes, I am going as well. If the king’s voice can really be heard, then I must hear it, if you will allow me.”
Steward smiled and patted Obed on the shoulder. “If I go, Obed must come also.”
Zanon paused. “The leader may not be happy with this, but we are instructed to do all we can to help you complete your journey, so I will lead you both. Just be ready whenever I come for you.”
He slipped the hood over his head and was away out the back door, disappearing into the darkness.
Steward stood next to Obed as they stared out into the night, then closed the door and faced his friend. “I guess we’ve crossed the line. There’s no going back now.”
Morning came, and a sense of unease filled Steward’s and Obed’s breakfast conversation. Obed laid out his plan.
“We will walk straight to the plaza through the main streets at the height of the market hour. The congestion of people will make it difficult for us to be accosted. Then we’ll enter the plaza and walk beside the produce carriers, who wheel their large carts across the plaza like ferries across the lake. My father worked in that trade for most of his life. I know these men, and they will not allow anything to happen to me as long as they have the power and numbers to prevent it. If we move with speed, we will make it into the Halls of Wisdom in safety.”
“But won’t we be arrested in the Halls?”
“No. There is no police action of any kind allowed inside the Halls, unless someone’s life is in danger. We will be safe once inside, as long as we go about our business.”
He hoped his friend was right. It was all about trust now.
“And what about when we are finished?”
Obed stared at him. “I have no idea. We will have to make it up from there. But one thing is for sure: if you don’t find what you are looking for in the Halls today, we will need to be far from Seudomartus by nightfall.”
“And what about Zanon and the Starr Hill gathering? How will they find us?”
“I don’t know, but it will do no one any good if we are thrown in prison—or worse. We must first look out for ourselves and then hope to find the Starr Hill gathering.”
No, I won’t leave here without the Transmitter. Where would I go? Regardless of how this day goes, I have to hear the voice of the king again.
Obed paced the floor for a moment then stopped and turned. “Steward, do you really need to see these last two people? Nagas will confront you without mercy, and Philandra will not yield until your story has been left in shreds. If the Transmitter is with the Starr Hill gathering, why not go there and escape these confrontations?”
Steward wanted to agree, to skip these last two confrontations. He questioned why as well, but the king’s words came to him again, “Trust me.”
“Because this is the journey the king asked me to take. For what reason I don’t know. But even though it may bring me pain and suffering and even lead to death, and though at this moment it makes no sense to me to do so, I’ll trust him and I will obey.”
Obed nodded.
Obed’s plan worked just as hoped. They left the house in the middle of the busiest market hour and pushed through the center of the streets amid a throng of shoppers, vendors, and travelers. Steward watched as armed men worked their way toward them several times, but Obed was brilliant at leading Steward to slip away through the crowd.
Finally, Obed smiled. “There it is, the Great Plaza. The Halls of Wisdom are just a hundred yards away.”
“Obed, more guards!”
The armed men emerged from a side street and spotted them.
“Careful, go slowly now.” Obed walked into the plaza, and just as the first of the armed guards was upon them, he called out, “Albert, my dear old friend, how have you been?”
A huge man with enormous arms, who was moving a mountain of produce in a two-wheeled cart into the plaza, stopped when he heard Obed’s voice. He put his cart handles down and came to Obed with a wide grin. “Obed, I haven’t seen you around here for weeks. How is your father?”
The small band of guards stopped.
Steward couldn’t blame them. Obed’s friend was enormous.
“My father is well but misses you all greatly. May my friend and I walk with you and your companions as we talk? We are going to the Halls today.”
“Of course. It would be our pleasure.” Albert shouted over to three other carters, each of whom was every bit as huge as he was. “Hey, fellas! This is Obed, Troyer’s boy. Mind if he walks along with us?”
No one did, and they all had greetings for Obed’s father. Steward followed Obed as they worked their way to the center of the convoy of produce carts and started across the plaza. Through the lettuce and turnips, they watched as their pursuers could only follow at a distance behind them.
They were safe—for now.
Once they approached the Halls of Wisdom, Obed thanked his friends. Then he and Steward hurried up the steps and went inside. Obed straightened and assumed the posture of a regular guest inside the enormous structure.
“Welcome to the Halls of Wisdom, Steward.”
With all the tension of avoiding capture, Steward forgot for a moment where he was. He caught his breath and let his gaze take it all in. “Amazing! I can’t believe I’m here.” He couldn’t hold back a grin. “Wait until Dad hears this story.”
The Halls of Wisdom were more splendid than he ever could have imagined. All the opulence of Petitzaros or Tristin’s mansion couldn’t compare.
Steward craned his neck as they walked. Towering ceilings suspended by cypress beams held chandeliers made of jeweled glass, which created patterns of rainbow light in every direction. Marble, ivory, and precious stones lined the floors and walls, and every detail of carved stone was gilded with gold. Paintings of great thinkers lined the hallways, and the words of the ancestors were carved across the top of every door and passageway.
Melodora was right. The kings’ words are here. Everywhere. Steward’s attention was broken as two men rushed toward them and summoned Obed.
“This way, quickly.”
They escorted the two of them through a side door a
nd into an inner chamber, then closed the door behind them.
“Teacher, you have risked your life to be here today. Everywhere there are men looking for you both. You have been accused of associating with the Starr Hill fanatics and of speaking heresy regarding the old king-myth. Is this true?”
Obed held a steady gaze. His tone was sharp and sure. “Since when is it against the law to speak of the king-myth? And when did it become a crime to associate with the Starr Hill fanatics? Though they have been frowned upon, how did it come to this?”
One of the two men drew closer to him, speaking now in an urgent but hushed voice. “Pressure has been mounting for months. Those who oppose all such teachings regarding the king-myth have been looking for a spark to ignite the fire that they could use to consume their enemies on Starr Hill.”
The second man looked at Steward. “And they have found just the spark they needed.”
Steward gasped. “Me? Are you saying I have caused all this to happen?”
The first man nodded. His expression grew pained. “I am afraid so. Your arrival here and the news of your story has generated great excitement among the Starr Hill Faithful. And it also fueled anger and resentment in their enemies. This was the rallying cry they needed, and now they have launched a full vendetta against all who speak of or believe in the king-myth. And especially you two.”
The second man furrowed his brow. “How did you get to the Halls?”
Obed grinned. “Carefully, and with the help of friends. The greater question is, how shall we get out of here?”
The first man responded. “We have ways to get you out. Come, we must move at once.”
Out? That’s not an option!
“No.” Steward stopped. “We can’t go yet. We have come to have an audience with Nagas the Skeptic and Philandra the Wise. I cannot leave until we have spoken with them both.”
“You can’t be serious!” The second man looked like he was about to explode. “We may be able to escort you safely to the private chambers of Nagas, and perhaps, if we are most careful, we can get you through the servants’ passages and near the outer reception rooms of Philandra the Wise. But either one can have you bound and handed over at their will.”
Obed cocked his head. “I thought police action was forbidden in the Halls of Wisdom.”
The first man raised a hand toward them. “These are not ordinary times, my friend. One who is considered an enemy of the personal quest for truth and knowledge is an enemy of everyone—both inside the Halls and out. The furor that is being raised is so great that even the sacredness of the Halls themselves may not be enough to save you.”
Steward knew he was not an enemy of the quest for truth. He just knew the king was the truth.
“I don’t care. We must make these audiences. I won’t leave here until I have accomplished what the king asked of me.”
Obed stood tall beside him. “I agree.”
The two men looked at each other and shook their heads. The first looked back. “Very well. When are you scheduled for your audience with Nagas?”
“Eleven,” Obed answered.
“Then let’s be off.”
The two escorts led Steward and Obed down a back hallway, across a small, unoccupied foyer, and through two gathering rooms. They proceeded up a short stairway, and soon they rounded a corner and disappeared into the private chambers of Nagas the Skeptic. The older man knocked and was allowed entry, followed by Obed. Steward could hear the discussion. Obed was greeted with politeness, and Steward was asked to join them in the sanctuary of private inner chambers. He was relieved to get out of sight of passersby. However, once he was in the presence of Nagas, his relief disappeared.
The renowned skeptic had piercing blue eyes that seemed never to leave Steward. “So this is the young adventurer who insisted on meeting with me to discuss the king-myth. Why are you bothering yourself, and me, with this foolishness?”
Steward’s knees quivered. His mind went empty.
Think, c’mon, think!
He struggled to mumble a few words. “I…that is, my father…this journey that I am on…I need to ask five wise people about the…I came here to ask…”
Nagas snapped a look at Obed. “Obed, why have you brought this stammering young fool to me?”
Obed put his hands up, pleading. “Please, honorable Nagas, just give him a moment to organize his thoughts. We have been through a great deal today.”
Nagas looked back at Steward, sized him up and down, and snorted a reply. “Very well, take your time, but answer me well. I have little time for fools.”
C’mon, Steward. Think. This is your chance. Just tell him the truth. “I have come…I have come because the king spoke to me and sent me to see you.”
“The king…spoke to you?” Nagas sneered and gave an indignant chuckle. “You are quite insane. Young man, listen very carefully to me.” The Skeptic walked up to Steward and stood so close that his breath hit Steward’s face as he spoke.
“You are an uneducated, naïve, and gullible young boy. You have been deluded into believing there is a king. That alone is nonsense. There is no proof of a king. No one has seen the king. No one has heard the voice of the king. Most everyone with any common sense lives a happy and normal life as if there were no king. Furthermore, we do not need a king, we do not want a king, and we do not and will not believe in a king. So why would a nonexistent myth suddenly speak to you and send you to me? What could you possibly want from me? Tell me, boy, tell me!”
Steward’s heart was beating so fast he thought he would faint. He grasped his chest to help his breathing, and it was then that his hand felt the lump in his inner pocket where he kept the spectacles given him by Dunston. He could hear the little creature’s words, “Only use the glasses when you need to see reality amidst illusion.”
If there was ever a time, this was it.
Steward fished the small glasses out from his pocket then opened them and placed them on his nose.
Nagas stepped back. “Are those glasses to make you look wiser? Well then, let’s hear your learned reply.”
Steward looked up at Nagas—and gasped. The Skeptic’s face had no eyes in the sockets or ears on the sides of his head. And out of his mouth came a braying sound, like a donkey. Steward lifted the glasses to see the scrunched-up face of his accuser, then let them down again and saw the blind and deaf figure before him, braying away.
What had Dunston said? The spectacles help you see the kingdom the way the king would have you see it. Everything else is illusion.
Steward’s nerve returned and his mind cleared. He removed the glasses, placed them back in his inner vest pocket, and looked straight at the great Skeptic.
Courage, confidence, trust the king. They all flooded over him as he spoke.
“You have eyes, but you cannot see. You have ears, but you cannot hear. And when you speak, you make no more sense than a braying she-ass!”
As a dumbfounded Nagas stepped back, Steward went on. “I came here on the instructions of the king himself to ask you the whereabouts of the Transmitter. But I can see now why I was sent to see you, for you are the reason Seudomartus has become such a hostile place to the king—you and Mattox the Great and Hambry the Pious and even Melodora. You all claim such wisdom, but none of you has eyes to see the king or ears to hear his voice. And so when you speak, you all sound wonderful to each other, but in reality you are no wiser than a common donkey in the field.”
“Get out! Get out, you impertinent, stupid little boy—!”
But before Nagas could finish his yelling, Steward turned to leave. “Come, Obed. There is nothing more for us here.”
The two men who escorted them down the hall stared at them, mouths agape.
“Great lord of the sea, I have never heard anyone speak to Nagas that way,” the first man said to Steward.
“And I have never seen him nearly speechless before, either,” added the second, a small gleam in his eye.
Obed grabbed
Steward by the shoulders. “We must surely flee this place now. Nagas will call out all the powers aligned against us. We are no longer safe here, not even in Philandra’s chamber.”
Steward placed his hand on his friend’s arm. “Obed, you have been my friend and closest ally through this entire ordeal. Please don’t fail me now. You know I must see Philandra the Wise, no matter what the cost. It’s the command of the king.”
Obed locked his eyes on Steward’s, then he placed his hand back on Steward’s. “I know, I know…and you will obey him.”
Steward nodded. “And I will trust him. Will you?”
Obed looked down the halls at the commotion their presence was causing. “Right now, I have no choice.” He turned to his two friends. “Can you still get us to Philandra?”
The journey took over an hour. The four figures worked their way through a basement tunnel and then walked with care through the servants’ quarters, trying not to attract attention. When they reached the far side of the Halls from underneath, they walked up five staircases, being careful at each one to wait until the traffic cleared.
Still, Steward guessed they had little chance of making it all the way into Philandra’s chambers. Surely by now the main Halls were filled with armed men looking for them.
As suspected, when Steward peered out from behind a storage closet door, he could see a parade of pursuers combing the Halls for them.
Obed eyed the door to the reception chamber of Philandra the Wise then turned to the two who had escorted them. “Thank you both for your help. We could not have made it this far without you. Now please go so that you won’t be caught and associated with us. We’ll go to our fate, but you must save yourselves while there is still time.”
The two men nodded, clasped Steward’s hand, and then they were gone, back down the passageway from which they’d come.
Obed turned to Steward. “Well, this is our final stop. If we wait until the hall clears, we may be able to run for it. But even if we make it, we may be taken prisoner right in Philandra’s reception room. There is no certainty of refuge anywhere now.”
The Four Gifts of the King Page 23