Chapter 15
The Arrest
logging back through the wet mud didn’t improve Neil’s mood. He felt as if he had just wasted an entire morning, and the glimpse he had seen of Miriam and Simon had only increased his anxiety, even if it had only been a dream, or a figment of his imagination. Riki appeared to be as depressed as he was; she didn’t hum, or whistle, or try to trip him up as they walked back into the garden.
For a moment, he felt oppressively claustrophobic, coming back into the large, beautiful house. After all, who were these people, anyway? Would they stand up for him, or even remember him a few months from now? Suddenly, he wanted to see his old study in Firbury, to sit and do Latin, to translate lines in an atmosphere of vellum, chalk dust, boredom and perfect peace. He would even prefer to be in his tiny, crowded house by the docks with his family; it would be nice to see Lizzie and Ninna, his sisters, as well as Matilda, the baby.
However, he forgot some of his gloom when Odjo met them at the door. The cook wore a broad smile, a snowy apron and held a huge tray filled with plates of rolls, cakes, fruit and fried plantains.
Tache stood behind him, carrying a pitcher full of some hot liquid that smelled wonderful. “Vadugo, Odjo,” Chichilia said. “Tache, you look very well! How nice. Unfortunately, we can’t sit on the veranda due to the rains, but let’s go to the gallery down here.”
They trooped into a long room lined with portraits of Jirili, Kakujife, Weko and Chichilia on their wedding day. It was also filled with paintings of octopi, parrots and some scenic views of Mixiamani. Weko was already there, reading a large book with his feet propped up in front of a small fire. He looked up over a pair of spectacles as Chichilia entered, and he put down his book.
“Time for another meal?” he asked. Odjo laughed and put the tray on a sideboard, and he and Tache left.
Riki immediately dashed over to the food and poured a mug full of the steaming liquid. Instead of gulping it down, however, she handed it to Neil, asking, “Would you like some also, Papi?”
Neil peered into the mug; it looked and smelled like thick chocolate, spiced with nutmeg and cinnamon. Weko lifted his cup and said, “Here is to the execution of the first portion of our task! And now, we must plan the second strategy, to get you-know-who back in you-know where.”
Chichilia clinked her mug with his and said, “I don’t think that will be as difficult as-”
The door to the gallery opened and Mandayala came in, wearing a long coat of turquoise velvet, lined with feathers died the same exotic hue. Odjo stood behind her, waving frantically at them. He quickly put down his arms and disappeared, however, when she looked suspiciously at him.
“Yoo-hoo!” she said, entering the gallery and waggling her fingers (encased in tight gloves) at Weko. “Are you talking about some gossip, Chichilia? Do tell me what it is.”
Riki, whose ears had pricked up at the words ‘plan’ and ‘strategy’, sighed and collapsed onto a small stool by the fire. Neil hurriedly joined her, out of Mandayala’s way. Even Weko retreated, furtively picking up his book and inserting a finger into the pages so he could resume reading.
Chichilia’s only reaction to the unwelcome guest was to allow her smile to become a trifle set, but smoothly she moved forward and gestured to a seat. “Won’t you sit down, Mandayala? We were just about to have a warm drink and some pastries.”
Mandayala hurriedly shed her coat and gloves, draped them over the back of a chair, and eyed the tray on the sideboard avidly. “Your cook has such a way with sweets and spices – ah, little crab cakes and – are these lobster patties with ginger sauce?” She piled some food high on a plate and sat heavily beside Weko, who looked up and closed his book again. “Well, Weko,” she said, tapping him on one knee, “are you going to take your family to the festival tonight?”
“The festival is tonight?” Riki blurted.
Mandayala raised one eyebrow at her, popped a roll into her mouth and wiped her mouth with her fingers. “Mmm, delicious. Yes, it is tonight; how odd that no one told you!”
“Weko has been very busy with company business lately.” Chichilia sat next to Riki and taking a small sip of chocolate.
“Ah,” Mandayala said. “And didn’t I hear that your cook’s daughter was having fits, or something?”
“Tache was a little indisposed, yes,” Chichilia said. Weko looked at her over the tops of his spectacles, glanced at Mandayala, and put his book back up in front of his face. “But she is much better now; in fact, she made that almond cake that you’re eating now.”
“Really!” Mandayala made a face and put the cake back on the plate. “What are you going to wear tonight? I still can’t decide; I just received a new tangerine and black creation that I ordered from the mainland, now that the passage has reopened. Can’t you just picture it? Satin and lace, my dear, with a fan-shaped train.”
Neil looked at Riki, and thought, she’ll look just like a sick peacock. Riki nodded at him in a way that showed she completely understood what he was thinking.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Chichilia said. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Of course, it doesn’t really matter what you wear,” Mandayala said. “You have such a lovely figure.” She crammed another patty in her mouth and chewed.
“May I get you some more chocolate, Miss Mandayala?” Riki rose up and reached for the steaming pitcher.
Mandayala automatically held out her cup. She looked up and frowned at Riki. “Chichilia! Is this really your daughter? Have you been sending her to finishing lessons?”
“Riki has grown up, Mandayala,” Chichilia said. “It happens to some of us.”
“Of course,” Mandayala replied, slightly annoyed. She took a large sip of chocolate and began to cough. “Oh dear – went down the wrong pipe – how vexatious –”
The door opened again and Odjo came in, not smiling this time. Chichilia turned and wrinkled her forehead. “Ewokya, Odjo?”
He bowed. “Someone to see,” he said, straightening and looking at Neil meaningfully. Weko put down his book again and lowered his feet to the floor.
Mandayala, coughing and waving one hand in front of her face, was obviously dying to know who had arrived, even though she could hardly breathe and her face was turning purple. Riki, seizing the opportunity, went behind her and gave her a mighty slap on one shoulder blade, just as someone else pushed past Odjo.
Kyoge, the guard, walked into the room and bowed deeply to Weko. “Begging your pardon, sir,” the guard said in Lampalan, “but we must search the hut on your property again.”
“What is this about?” Weko asked, getting up. “We were searched already. Is Atol in the habit of inspecting our houses on a daily basis now?”
Mandayala tried to wheeze something and coughed more loudly. Riki gave her another huge whack and flashed Neil a brave, if somewhat watery grin.
“Let us speak the mainland tongue,” Chichilia said, waving one hand at Neil. “It is only polite to our guest.”
“Oh, I can understand –” Neil began, but Kyoge cut him off.
“As you wish,” he replied, speaking with a slight accent but using perfect diction. “And sir, I believe you already know why we must search again. You may have fooled the other guards, but you cannot do so with me.”
“I forbid it!” Weko thundered, twitching off his spectacles and throwing them aside. “I may serve under Atol’s rule, but by the Maker, we still have rights as citizens of Lampala!”
Riki cheered faintly, and Chichilia quelled her with a look. Mandayala finally cleared the obstruction from her throat and wheezed, “What is going on, Chichilia?” Riki gave her another slap, and she turned and barked at the girl, “I’m fine now! You can stop with the slap and smacks!”
“Mandayala, it looks as though the king is petitioning to search our home. It would be best, perhaps, if you leave,” Chichilia said.
“Well!” The woman swept over to the chair where she had tossed her coat, grabbed it and walked out of t
he room, giving Kyoge a thorough up-and-down inspection as she left. The door banged behind her with such force that it opened again, and they could hear the high heels of her sandals clip-clopping to the front door.
Weko stood up and approached the huge guard. “Forgive me, what is your name? Kyoge, isn’t it?” Weko asked. “Please sit down and let us be reasonable. Surely you see that by allowing this thing I am giving up my family’s privacy!”
“I must do my job, as you must do yours,’ Kyoge replied, holding his spear upright.
One arm clasped the top of the long shaft, and his muscles bulged in a way that Neil eyed enviously. The man looked like a magnificent king himself, much more so than the dark, smoke-puffing mountain that had been Atol.
Weko spread his hands in front of him. “I understand your position,” he said. “But don’t you see that our rights have eroded under Atol’s rule, especially in recent months? Please go back to the palace, Kyoge, and tell Atol that I need a day or two to get my affairs in order.”
Kyoge stood motionless, and Neil’s heart sank. He knew that the man might agree with Weko in his heart, but he would never allow anything to interfere with doing his duty.
“It’s too late for that,” someone said softly in the doorway. Kyoge turned and motioned with one hand, and two more guards entered, holding Mana between them. “Kyoge is just doing his job,” she said, “as you have done yours, Weko. I just pray that you do not get punished too severely over it.”
“Princess Mana, I take it?” Kyoge asked. He bowed deeply.
“Actually, I believe that I am now Queen,” she replied.
“Queen Manapalata, I have orders here for your arrest.” He stood up and gravely offered her his arm, and without hesitating, she took it.
Stop it! Neil wanted to scream. It was like some horrible dream, in which everyone knew something terrible was going to happen, and yet they all continued on with their lives in the most polite way possible.
Kyoge looked at Weko. “I’m afraid that you and your family will have to come with us as well,” he said. Weko frowned, his heavy eyebrows descending over his eyes, and nodded.
“Is that really necessary?” Chichilia asked, scowling. At that moment, Neil could see the resemblance between her and Riki.
“My dear, it is too late, as the Princess – forgive me – the Queen has pointed out,” Weko cautioned her. “We can do nothing now but hope for Atol’s mercy.”
“Nonsense,” Chichilia snapped. “Mercy? From that man, who is nothing but a pretender? He is selling his subjects as human experiments, and no one is doing anything about it. Well, it’s time that someone did speak up!”
“Lady,” Kyoge said, “please don’t add Treason to the list of accusations I must present to the king.”
“Treason?” Chichilia repeated. She smiled suddenly and said, “It is Atol who has committed treason of the gravest kind. I have here the sacred documents of Lampala, proving that it is Queen Mana who is our ruler, and not Atol, who seized the throne illegally.” She reached into a deep pocket of her robe and produced a thick packet of parchment, rolled up and tied with ancient-looking gray ribbon.
For a moment, no one spoke. Riki shouted, “Wah-hoo!”
On that cue, Kyoge stepped forward and held his hand out for the papers. Chichilia handed them to him, saying, “I know, Captain Kyoge, that you will not try to destroy them. You are an honorable man, and I’m certain you will respect the sacred laws of our country.”
Kyoge carefully untied the ribbon and unrolled the thick sheaf on the long table in the gallery. He read quickly, scanning the lines, and he looked up at his guards. “Let her go,” he said, pointing to Mana. “These are indeed our sacred papers of royal succession on Lampala, and they show without a doubt that Queen Manapalata is our only ruler.”
Weko grabbed Chichilia’s arms. “Wife, how did you get possession of those documents?” he asked sternly.
“I stole them,” she answered, looking straight into his eyes, “when I went to the temple this morning. You don’t think I was really concerned about mere temple embroidery at such a time, do you? I still had my keys to the inner rooms from my time as a temple maiden, before we were married.”
Weko’s frown deepened, and a deep chuckle escaped him. “Ha!” he shouted. “Hahahahaha! My wife, the thief!”
Riki jumped up and dragged on Neil’s arm. “She did it!” she yelled. “My mother! Can you believe it? She did it!”
“Be quiet at once, all of you,” Mana’s voice declared. Instantly, everyone was silent. She turned to Kyoge and asked, “I take it that this absolves your duty to Atol?”
“It does.” Suddenly he got down on one knee and bent his head in front of her. “My queen, I am now under your arrest for treason,” he said. “I hope you will understand why I acted as I did.”
“Get up, Kyoge.” Mana folded her arms. “We’re going to be much too busy to think about treason. I don’t want to start a war on Lampala, but I must take possession of my throne as soon as possible. Can you help me with that?”
Kyoge stood and faced her. As tall as Mana was, she had to tip her head up to look into his eyes as he replied, “I can. These guards are sworn to follow my orders.” Neil, staring at the men and Mana, thought he had never seen anyone look more magnificent, or nobler.
“Still, Captain Kyoge,” Mana said, “there are some guards at the palace who are not as loyal as you are, isn’t that correct? In order to do this without innocent blood being shed, we must come up with a plan in the next few hours.”
“A plan!” Riki squeaked. “I’ll go and get my notebook.” Not heeding the huge, armed men in her path, she dashed out of the room.
“My daughter,” Weko said, throwing up his hands. “I see now that she is much like my wife.”
“In that case,” Mana replied, “she will be a very good woman.”
“You know it,” Neil blurted out, and he turned bright red as everyone looked at him.
Crown Phoenix: Night Watchman Express Page 42