Treachery of Kings

by Neal Barrett Jr

  “I thought I made it quite clear, sir.”

  “He didn't, Finn,” Letitia said, gripping his hand in hers. “He can't speak without sticking some frill on the end, but that's what he means.”

  “Sticks and Bricks. I admired that fellow. He was very polite, even when he told us we were not welcome here. He gave me his very own—”

  Finn felt his stomach curl into a knot.

  “—his own excellent Eastern dagger with the nicely curved blade. Damn me, if he'd had a weapon, he might have survived!”

  “Those who serve in the King's guards expect this sort of thing, sir. Even if you were wholly responsible for his demise, there is so much more to be said for the deader side of life.”

  “I feel awful about this. Julia, if you dig any deeper, I'm going to bleed to death. What's the matter with you?”

  “A minor malfunction of the rotator gears. Moisture was absorbed in the storm. Both my inner and outer workings are somewhat damp. I was splattered, not drenched. Sprayed, but soaked—”

  “You're wet.”

  “The very word. Thank you, Finn.”

  “If you will come with me, sir and Miss, and lizard as well, I will take you to quarters where you may rest and change—I fear we will have to find you proper clothing again. You have soiled yourselves with food. Luncheon will be served in Mortuary Memorial Hall, at precisely two. Obviously, it will take some time before repairs are completed here”

  “Dostagio, wait. A moment, if you will.” Finn felt as if he'd missed a vital instant somewhere. As if the world had inched ahead and left him standing there.

  “We're leaving, at once. The storm has passed. You're booting us out of here, but first we have to change for lunch. Help me out, if you will.”

  “I see no confusion, sir. You are leaving, there is no question of that. Your departure will be only slightly delayed. It is possible some of the Bowser intruders have eluded our troops. Until they are routed out, no one may leave the grounds.”

  “Why not?”

  “A Bowser might manage to sneak through as well, sir.”

  Disguised as what? Finn thought. A yapper's going to look like a Bowser, there's nothing he can do about that….

  “What's for lunch?” Letitia asked. “I don't suppose you have a menu anywhere… “

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  BEFORE FINN COULD OBJECT, DOSTAGIO AS sured him they would not be staying in the suite of Celestial Bliss, as the storm had caused some flooding down below.

  Instead, they were to be quartered in the Merchants, Second Class Envoys and Craftsman's wing, directly across from Brewers & Butchers’ Hall.

  “It is not a sanctified area,” Dostagio said, “but I think you'll be comfortable there.”

  “We'll try,” Finn said, with a glance at Letitia, for he knew, at once, what was on her mind. If the room wasn't holy, if you didn't have to be dead, then it might have an ordinary bed.

  IF FINN THOUGHT HE'D SEEN EVERY ODD AND EX-traordinary sight, every strange and unnatural event since they'd come to Heldessia Land, now he would have to think again.

  As they made their way from the dome, down a wide passageway with the usual dread decor, Dostagio stopped of a sudden and drew them into a small, open anteroom off the main hall.

  Before Finn could question this action, Letitia made a breathless little sound, an “oh!” and an “oh dear me!” or something of the sort.

  Following her glance, he saw the procession just as it appeared in the passageway. One did not need a quick mind, a keen intellect, to recognize a royal train. Every beggar, every thrall, even those of little wit in every land, had seen such a caravan before.

  There is little, Finn thought, that a royal likes to do more, unless it be nothing at all. Even here, in the palace itself, where no one could watch, except those who saw it every day, the stately march went on. A royal couldn't go to supper, or see to his bodily needs, without a cortege of some degree.

  Still, he noted, this indeed was no ordinary flock of noble birds. The strut, the color and the plumage were there, but this court had a definite image of its own.

  The usual cast was there. He had seen them all, in one guise or another, at Prince Aghenfleck's Great Hall: Lords, ladies, chancellors and counts. Puffy ministers and knobby diplomats. Elders, councilors, generals and fools.

  All in order of their rank, according to their place, each in proper attire. The code of dress among the titled and the toadies, and those who scamper in between, is rigid, fixed and not to be denied. Every pleat, every tuck, every doublet, robe, buskin or sash, reveals your true station. Or, if you dare, who you'd like to be.

  The gaudy, the vulgar, the garish and the crude commit no sin at all in their attire. Often, they simply set the trend. This day, Finn noted, fashion favored the harness, the cassock and a splendid excess of lace. And every soul from the highborn to the Master of the Sewer wore some shade of purple, pansy, plum, orchid, lilac or mulberry hue.

  All, that is, except King Llowenkeef-Grymm. He was dressed in tatters, rags and shreds. Torn, ripped, shabby bits of clothing that dragged along behind him in a long and dreary train. The royal colors were soot, smoke, bone and a maggoty tone of gray. The King's face was coated in ash, and his eyes were circled in black. And, though there were surely other members of the Royal Family about, only the King himself appeared to be here.

  It struck Finn, then, that fashion in Heldessia's palace was precisely opposed to that of Aghen Aghenfleck's court. There, the Prince wore a bright array of colors, and his court was allowed only black. One ruler adored every shallow path of life, while the other celebrated death.

  “Which of the two is more witless than the other,” Finn muttered to himself, “is a mystery to me.”

  No one could have heard these words, for they were faint as spider breath. Yet, someone did, indeed. Finn had scarcely spoken before he felt the presence, saw its piercing eyes, felt it clutch his heart in a chill and alien hand.

  Finn staggered, reached out in blind desperation for something, anything to keep him from falling weakly to the floor.

  “Finn, love, what is it, what's wrong!?”

  Letitia caught him and eased him gently to the floor.

  “Don't know… hurts, Letitia. It hurts awfully bad…”

  Letitia's voice was fraught with alarm. Dostagio, though, showed no concern at all.

  “He is quite all right, Miss. Truly. There is nothing you can do.”

  “What do you mean he's all right? Look at him. He's white as he can be!”

  “The fellow is right,” Julia put in. “I can hear his pulse. It's normal. Or as normal as a pulse can get with Finn.”

  “You're a lot of help. He doesn't look normal to me.”

  “I'm—all right. Just back off a little. Going to be—sick right here.”

  “I wish you wouldn't, sir. Not until His Grace's party passes by. It's not the proper thing to do.”

  Finn didn't hear, surely didn't care. He crawled to the rear of the small alcove and rid himself of breakfast, lunch and dinner in the air the day before, and, it seemed, a great deal more.

  Still, through the agony and the pain that wracked his bodily parts, the image of those cold and penetrating eyes refused to go away. He saw them, clearly, saw where they belonged, saw the gaunt features and the cruel and pitiless mouth.

  And, for an instant, the image expanded, and Finn saw beyond the creature itself. Saw that it walked directly in the shadow of the King…

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  ARE YOU SERIOUS, DEAR? TRULY?” Letitia covered her mouth and stared at Finn, her eyes as black as barley mead. “Oh, I hope you're wrong, I hope you're mistaken, Finn.”

  “I am not, though, Letitia. There is nothing wrong with my heart. I must confess I thought for a moment I would soon be a Coldie, but that will have to wait a while.

  “I was hexed, my dear, there's nothing else for it. I suppose the fellow could have killed me with his spell if he'd wanted to. I'm sure he could do
it still.”

  He told her, then, how he'd seen the man's image in his mind, quite clearly, and how he walked very close to the

  King.

  “I didn't see him as he passed, but I am certain he was there. He's a sorcerer, and a good one. Better than that poor fellow they did in at Aghenfleck's court. You won't find this one hawking cheap charms in the street.”

  “Well, as you say, he could have slain you right there, and he didn't. I think that's a good sign, dear.”

  “I suppose one could look at it that way,” Finn said, somewhat irritated at Letitia's sudden composure in the matter. She had certainly been quite alarmed only moments before.

  He still felt shaky, drained of any strength, though he'd slept through the day. He had been struck just after break fast, and now it was late afternoon. He had no memory of Letitia and Dostagio helping him to this room, or falling into bed. The First Servant had brought Letitia soup, marigold tea and fatcakes for lunch. There was soup left over, but Finn had no appetite at all.

  At least, he thought, the simple quarters had a bed and other facilities common to civilized life. No stone floors, no burial vaults in the wall. And, as Dostagio had promised, there were places to wash, and clean and comfortable clothes.

  Still, he was shaken by his experience in the hall. Why? he wondered now. Why had the magician treated him so cruelly, why punish him at all, unless he simply enjoyed that sort of thing?

  True, he had had a passing thought in which the word witless had come into play associated with Kings…

  Cabbages and Kale, if that rogue can pluck tidbits from everyone's head, he'd have to knock out everyone in Heldessia twice a day!

  “Why me?” he said aloud. “Just because I'm from out of town?”

  “What, Finn? I thought you fell asleep again.” “Well, I'm not. I'm quite awake now. I'll be just fine in a while.”

  “Would you like some soup now?”

  “No. I'm not as fine as that. Thank you all the same.”

  IT TOOK SEVERAL TRIES, BUT FINALLY HE GOT HIS feet on the floor, paused for a moment, then stood, keeping one hand on the bed.

  “As I said, I'm fine now, truly I am. A trifle dizzy, but that will go away.”

  He made it to a bench across the room, wrapping his cloak about him on the way. He was quite aware Letitia followed him anxiously with her eyes.

  The room seemed a little cool, or maybe that was the residue of the spell. At any rate, it lacked the funereal chill of the suite of Celestial Bliss down below.

  “Did you feel anything, Julia, anything in the grand parade that seemed—unusual to you? Did you sense the presence of that seer?”

  “I didn't, no,” Julia said, in a voice like a rasp on tin, a sure sign she needed oil. “And that in itself is of some concern, Finn. I am able to hear a weevil's breath, the flatulence of fleas. I know when a beetle sneezes, when an ant begins to cry—”

  “All right, you didn't get a thing when that sorcerer passed us by, when he knocked me for a loop.”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Well say that, then. I don't want to hear about your sensitivity to bugs.”

  “Bugs make quite a racket. You're lucky to be of humankind. Your perception is somewhat keener than the average rock, and that saves you a lot of pain.

  “What that sorcerer did was block me out. It's simply as if he wasn't there. If he can do that to me, small wonder you didn't see him passing by.”

  “That's quite frightening,” Letitia said.

  “It is. And it's still a mystery why he picked me.”

  Letitia stood and paced about, hands clasped tightly to her breasts, clearly lost in thought.

  “Dostagio… you won't recall, of course. He said… he said, ‘he's quite all right, Miss. There is nothing you can do.’ “

  “He did?”

  “That tells me he knew what had happened to you, though Julia and I had no idea. And one thing more. When he helped me bring you here, I asked him what had happened, and he said he had no idea. Which isn't true at all.”

  “No, it isn't. Dostagio is full of secrets about this place, there's nothing new in that. I don't suppose, Julia…”

  “You asked me before. I don't know what he did, I don't know what he is.”

  “Is there anything you do perceive, anything at all?”

  “Finn…”Letitia shook her head, a gentle reprimand.

  “I am accustomed to abuse,” Julia said. “It's part of what I do. And you forgot one point, Letitia. The bell… “

  “Yes. The Millennial Bell. I asked Dostagio about it when he brought us lunch. There's still soup, you know, and a bit of bread… I asked him, and he pretended he didn't hear.”

  “No great surprise there.”

  “No, I fear not. Except, Finn, this time there was just the slightest moment of hesitation, scarcely a breath, but it was there. I could see through that sober mask of his. He lied to me, I'm quite sure of that.

  “We Mycer folk are quite sensitive too, you know. In many respects, we see more than you, Julia, in a very different way. I doubt if anything of the mechanical persuasion can even approach your abilities. And much of that credit goes to you, of course, Finn.”

  “ Much? You're too kind, love. All I did was invent this thing. So—the First Servant lied when you asked about the bell.”

  “No question of that.”

  “It's good to know. Though I'm not sure what it tells us, are you?”

  Letitia shrugged. “I'm merely telling you what I sensed.”

  “Yes, and that's all you can do. I feel we must make every effort to leave this place as quickly as we're allowed. As soon as they've rooted all those Bowsers out. Since it's evening now, I guess it will be morning before we can go.

  “Bottles and Cans, you'd think something would be easy now and then. Some plain, everyday act with a simple resolution. No chaos, no alarm, no Bowsers or balloons. Letitia, Julia—if we ever get back to Garpenny Street in one piece, and I pray that we will—please remind me not to go anywhere again, no matter what some google-eyed, whey-faced Prince says he might do if I don't produce a lizard that spins, ticks, stands on its head, or sings tenor in the choir.

  “If I ever even show signs that I might waver in this resolve, I—”

  “Finn.”

  “If I—I believe I was speaking, Julia.”

  “No one would argue that. But you should know that company is about to arrive. In roughly two seconds and a half. And it is not Dostagio, as one might guess… “

  Before Finn could answer, the door burst open with no warning at all. An action so quick, so rudely done, that the heavy panel slammed against the wall, raining dust to the floor.

  “Your pardon, I suppose. Though manners are not required in a mission such as mine. I owe you no courtesy at all.”

  Finn stared, unable to believe his eyes.

  Koodigern! The squat, heavily muscled Badgie, chain mail under his heavy green cloak, flat features and bristly hair with a bright streak of white.

  Only Koodigern couldn't be there, the Badgie warrior was dead. Dostagio had told them so. …

  No, no it isn't, Finn saw at second glance. Newlies of any sort tend to look alike if you don't know them well. Newlies make the same mistake with humans. This was almost Koodigern, but not the same fellow at all.

  “I can read you, human,” the Badgie said, “and you don't know me, as you have guessed. I am Maddigern, Second from the Last Brother to Koodigern, who gave his life because he gave his weapon to you.”

  “I deeply regret that,” Finn said. “I would give anything if I had not accepted his offer. If I could bring your brother back—”

  “If you had rejected his gift, he would have been deeply offended. You know nothing of our kind.”

  “No, I confess I do not. I would consider it an honor, though, if I could return Koodigern's blade to you. I'm sure he would want his brother to have it if he—”

  Maddigern's eyes went dark. No other emotion
s played across his features, but the eyes told Finn enough. The Badgie drew back, and it was clear that he was plainly repulsed.

  “Do you think I could handle that thing, after it has been tainted by your hand? My brother has served your kind too long. Don't confuse his careless ways with that of other Badgies, especially mine.”

  He paused, then, let his eyes touch Letitia a moment, then moved on to Julia Jessica Slagg. Finn sensed his curiosity was aroused, but he kept such thoughts to himself.

  “I am wasting time here. I have duties to perform, only one of which concerns you. With the passing of Fifth from the First Brother Koodigern, his loathsome charge falls upon me. While you remain on royal grounds, I am responsible for your well-being.

  “I would rather disembowel myself twice than ever look upon you again. Nevertheless, I am sworn to do what I get paid for, and, more than that, uphold my honor to the King's Third Sentient Guards.”

  Maddigern snapped to attention, looked at Finn, then bowed stiffly at Letitia Louise.

  “I mean no disrespect, but you do yourself no honor, Mycer person, taking company with him.”

  “Damn you, I'll not take that,” Finn said, feeling the color rise to his face. He stepped toward the Badgie, drawing Koodigern's blade from his belt.

  “Finn, no… “

  Letitia placed herself firmly in his path. “Please. Let it be.”

  “If you'll stand aside, Letitia. This does not concern you.”

  “Oh, but it does, does it not? It very much concerns me. And I say let it be.”

  Finn looked over Letitia's shoulder. The Badgie stood his ground, showing no emotion at all. Then, turning away, he closed the door behind him.

  Letitia looked at Finn, but he could do nothing but turn away.

  “I had every right. You should not have interfered.” “I had every right as well.”

  “I didn't fear him. I'm sure he's quite practiced, but I feel I can handle myself.”

  “I have never doubted your courage,” she said, reaching up to touch his chest. “Look at me, Finn. Don't turn away.”