by Gary Bregar
She held the crystal in her left hand and slowly moved her right hand over it twice until it became bright.
Now, with the crystal lit, she held it out over the staircase. Even with the crystal, she could not see past the fifth step. The darkness seemed to eat away at the light before her very eyes. When she was about to move onto the first step, she stopped with a realization so thick that she let out a deep breath. It wasn’t a feeling of fear, but the exact opposite. She had no fear of the staircase, just as she had no fear of being alone in a long-deserted section of the castle.
She looked back around at the room that she was standing in and wondered, How is it that this room does not frighten me? There is thick dust, poor lighting, and spider strings pulled about everywhere!
Her shock wasn’t that she was frightened of the room or of what she was about to do, but why she wasn’t frightened in the least. She would ponder the reasons later, but for the time being she would do her exploring.
She stepped down onto the first step and then the next, continuing slowly until she could see that they would begin forming a spiral. The steps, which were only two feet across at the top, began widening as she went down. On the walls to her right, she could see iron candle displays like the ones in the castle foyer. The design was different—simpler, but they looked like they might be from a previous version of the castle décor. The candle in the display was melted down to nothing and long wax rods hung like ice frozen in time. Lizabet wondered how long it would have taken for the charmed wax to melt. Many centuries, she supposed.
She continued walking down and the steps continued to widen, until finally the steps were no longer steps. She was standing inside the edge of a large room. It was round, and towered up at least two levels; she couldn’t see past the darkness to know for sure. On each level there were rusted and broken bars hanging on the entrances to smaller rooms. She knew immediately that she was standing in the center of a dungeon. She had heard of such terrible things, but could not have imagined that such places would exist in Forris. Her heart sank, but she noticed that fear still hadn’t crept into her mind for even a moment.
In the center of the room were wooden and iron objects, some with long spikes, and others with ropes hanging from iron bars. There were blades similar to those of swords that were standing blade-up, side by side on what now resembled a bed. None of what she saw made any sense, for she had never seen such things. But she knew the purpose of what was before her. She knew in her heart and mind that what she was gazing at were the tools of misery.
****
When Lizabet emerged from the stairway, back into the large abandoned room, she was shocked to find the outer butler standing across the room just inside the doorway. He was making no attempt to hide himself or run away when Lizabet took a step forward, and then stopped. She stood standing, not knowing what to do, or if she should speak, so she simply smiled at the huge Loper. His shoulders relaxed and he slowly returned a smile of his own. Lizabet recognized it immediately as that of the butler she had seen before at the gate.
She reached behind to close the door that she had just come out of, not taking her eyes from the Loper. And when she heard the door shut behind her, the Loper’s smile immediately faded and his eyes widened. He pointed to the door and took a step back.
Not knowing how to address him, she simply said, “Hello, Mister Butler, what troubles you?”
The Loper raised his hand again, pointing at the door, and said, “The door…it has gone!” His voice was deep and yet it was trembling.
Lizabet turned back toward the door and then back to the Loper.
“Sir, the door is right here.”
But the Loper again looked startled when she put her hand back on the handle of the door. Lizabet was puzzled by his reaction.
“Sir, why are you frightened?”
His eyes had a look of terror in them until Lizabet smiled at him. Realizing this, she kept the expression on her face to relieve him, and saw that the muscles in his wide, thick shoulders relaxed again.
“Young Miss, the door only appears when you touch it, and it is gone when you do not,” the Loper said, with his voice still trembling.
Lizabet looked back at the door, which was clearly visible to her. But she knew that the Loper was not lying. He couldn’t see it himself—of that she was sure, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She held her finger to her lips, silently asking him to keep the secret. He instantly became thrilled, as if no one had ever in his life trusted him to keep such an important secret as this. She was aware of this, but also confused, since she didn’t know what the secret meant herself.
She stepped forward slowly until she was standing directly before the Loper, who towered above her, and presented him with a light curtsey.
“My name is Lizabet Abbot.”
“Lizabet Abbot,” he repeated almost under his breath.
“What is your name, sir?”
The Loper hesitated, as if no one had ever asked him that particular question before.
“I am called Pike,” he finally answered. “You are Lizabet Abbot.”
Lizabet giggled at the way he had answered her, and Pike’s smile increased at the sound of it. He was gentle—she could see that, but his appearance might frighten some, she supposed. Not her, though.
“We are well met, Pike,” she said.
“Yes, very well met, Miss Lizabet…very well met.”
“Is it true that you cannot see the door which I came from?” Lizabet asked.
Pike looked past Lizabet to the door, and answered, “There is no door now, Miss Lizabet.”
Lizabet looked back over her shoulder where she saw clearly that the door was visible. But she knew that he could not see it, and wondered why the door had presented itself to her alone.
“Pike, can you keep a secret?”
The Loper perked up, no one had ever asked him to hold a secret.
“Yes, Miss Lizabet, I can keep your secret.”
“Then we shall never speak to anyone of the door. Can you do that for me, Pike?”
“Oh yes, Miss Lizabet!” Pike exclaimed in a deep, but almost childish voice. He then lowered his voice to a whisper before continuing, “We should not tell anyone of the door.”
“Thank you, Pike. I should be getting back before I’m missed. Would you like to walk with me?”
Pike didn’t answer, but moved out of the doorway so that she could pass. When she walked through and out the door, he followed behind her. He wore large sandals that made a shuffling sound as he walked over the stone floor. They were laced up to his knees over his dark blue trousers.
“You’ve been following me when I explore the castle,” Lizabet said. Pike only continued walking slowly behind her, not responding.
“It’s all right, Pike—I don’t mind,” she said, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “Why do you follow me?”
“I was thinking of you, Miss Lizabet. You smiled at me before,” Pike said with apology in his tone.
“Do people not smile at you, Pike?” Lizabet said with a sad realization.
“No, Miss Lizabet, people smile, but not at me or my brothers and sisters.”
“That is so sad, and must be so lonely, not receiving smiles of any kind.” Lizabet said.
When they reached the double doors that led back into the maintained areas of the castle, Lizabet heard Pike stop walking. She turned to him, and said, “What is the matter? Do you not wish to escort me the rest of the way?”
“I cannot, Miss Lizabet, or they may be angered at me.”
Lizabet thought this to be nonsense, but she was new to this place, even if this was now her new home. She didn’t understand the customs of Obengaard or Bannister Castle, so she would not risk getting the Loper into trouble.
“I see,” Lizabet said. “But I would like very much to be your friend. May we meet again?”
Pike was visibly overcome with emotion and Lizabet understood at once that Pike had never been o
ffered friendship before, any more than he had been offered smiles. Her heart sank.
“Yes, Miss Lizabet, I would like that,” he replied, now gaining height as he turned his weight onto the tips of his toes.
Lizabet smiled and added a curtsey, then opened the door to leave. Pike stood where he was and only smiled before waving goodbye. Lizabet had met many people over the past week, but somehow she knew that Pike would be one of the truest.
****
Although the kingdoms of Mantle would often exchange messages and gifts, it was a rare occasion that the monarchs of the three should come together for a meeting face to face. There had been no war in Mantle for centuries to warrant such a meeting, and such occasions might only take place as a matter of reinforcing relations. Forris, being centrally located between the kingdoms of Bore and Tongar, would most often host such meetings as a practical matter. But even with Forris being the preferred meeting location, King Zander himself had only met the kings of Bore and Tongar on one prior occasion, and that had been when he was but a young prince.
When King Zander was notified by messenger a day before the arrival of King Cergio of Bore, he ensured that preparations were firmly on schedule for his arrival. They might be going to war against the Skites soon, but his subjects did not yet have knowledge of that possibility, and he would not deprive them of celebrations. After all, it might be their last for some time. He had decided, in fact, that he would not make it known to his people that war was on the horizon, until after his marriage to Bella—if it could be helped. If an imminent threat should arise, he would revisit his decision, but for now he would let ignorance comfort them.
He had ordered all available members of the Royal Guard to line the street from the gates of Obengaard to the main entrance of Bannister Castle, and he now stood in the central courtyard, near the city gate awaiting their arrival. Bella and Lizabet, who would be properly introduced at the state dinner that would follow the arrival of both kings, now stood on the front balcony that faced the courtyard where Zander was standing. They saw that a large iron cart was off to one side of the courtyard, covered by a white cloth. Forie banners hung on the balconies throughout the city, and flowers had been strewn about on the streets.
They had been standing in silence for some time, when Bella said, “So tell me, Lizabet, how are you enjoying the castle? Have you found things to occupy your time?”
“I’ve enjoyed it very much, so far. I’ve been walking through the castle, exploring.”
“Exploring?” Bella said with an exaggerated look of awe. “Have you found anything interesting during your exploring?”
Lizabet wasn’t about to tell anyone about the door that apparently she alone could see. She was holding onto that for herself (and Pike), so she only answered vaguely, “Not really, but the castle is so much larger than I had expected by its appearance. There are halls that lead to rooms so large that I would not have imagined they would fit in such a place. It’s as if the entire castle has been charmed in such a way as to alter its appearance in size. I wonder if many people realize the deception.”
“I doubt that it is charmed. I haven’t seen anything unusual about the size of the place,” Bella said.
“No, I don’t expect that you would either,” Lizabet replied. “You have limited yourself to only a few areas of the castle. If you were to tour many parts of the castle in a single day, you would see that the size is much greater than it seems possible from the outside.”
Bella supposed this could be true. There were many things about Castle Bannister that were charmed, so why should this be any different?
“I suppose you might be right,” Bella said with a smile.
Just then, trumpets began to sound, cutting off any further discussion of the castle. They were now focused on the arrival of King Cergio.
****
First to come through the gate were six pair of guards. They were wearing uniforms of brown and orange, with helmets that looked as if they might be made of brass. The two guards in the front were each carrying the flag of Bore attached to long poles which rested on brass stirrups.
Bella and Lizabet had both been overcome with anticipation and excitement for the arrival of the Bore king. They hadn’t been sure what to expect, for they had never seen anyone from Bore.
The first guards wore helmets that covered their faces, but King Cergio’s helmet did not, and when he entered, they could see that he was not at all unusual.
It was Cergio’s horse, though, that caught their attention immediately. King Cergio’s horse was silver, but not like any silver horse they had ever seen, and Bella realized they had never actually seen a silver horse. They had seen white horses. This horse, beneath King Cergio, was silver. Lizabet thought that it looked like a living trinket, a broach maybe come to life.
In the courtyard, Zander stood while King Cergio dismounted and walked toward him, removing his helmet as he approached. He smiled at Zander, and when Zander returned a smiled back, Cergio’s grin widened. He had heard rumors of the king having been stripped of his smile by the Sovereign Trees, but now he saw that the issue had either been resolved, or the rumors had not been true to begin with. When he had heard the rumor, he had thought how fortunate the three kingdoms had been in sharing common expressions. How difficult he had thought it would be to communicate with someone while displaying an expression not compatible with their culture. He was relieved beyond measure to see the smile on Zander’s face.
Zander held out his hand and King Cergio took it in both of his. This was a gesture in the Bore kingdom that was used to convey the utmost respect that a sitting king could offer. It wasn’t a tradition shared in Forris or Tongar, but they all knew its meaning.
“Welcome to Obengaard, Majesty,” Zander said.
“Much thanks for your hospitality in these rough times, Majesty,” Cergio replied. “I appreciate that you have called this meeting, for we have much to discuss, aye, so we do.”
“Yes, we do indeed have much to talk over. I should also like to be first to inform you of a matter that strikes a more positive note. I will make apologies to King Ekkill when he arrives, but I fear a secret cannot be kept in Obengaard.”
“I believe any news you can bring that lands positive, is most welcome,” Cergio replied.
“Majesty, I am to be married in one week’s time, set by the moon. I would like to humbly invite you to bear witness to the nuptials.”
King Cergio’s face lit up as he said, “Zander, aye, of course! I should be honored to bear witness! My congratulations are in order, Majesty. I can hardly believe that, when last I visited, you were but a small boy, aye, so you were. I knew your father quite well, better than you would likely know, and he would be proud, so he would.”
Zander had been young when he last saw the king of Bore, perhaps five or six years in age, but he could remember that day clearly. King Cergio was a tall man and was nearly bursting at the seams with muscle, so when he had bent down to shake young Zander’s hand, it made for a strange site. He came so close to Zander that he could smell pulled meat on the king’s breath. It had been then that he had noticed King Cergio’s ears—or rather, the lack of them. In fact, he had then noticed that none of the Bores had fully formed ears. They had only small appendages of skin that smoothly encircled an earhole, and he noticed that some circles of skin were larger than that of other Bores. His father had later explained that in Bore, the ears of a man are a signature of strength and beauty. That, he had explained, was the purpose of the intentional balding of hair on the sides of a Bore’s head. They would not dare to cover the ears. The custom was foreign to Zander, but he would not be prejudiced to the traditions of others.
Now he saw that King Cergio hadn’t changed at all since their last meeting years earlier. He stood at a towering height and his long dark hair was held together in a tail by gold rings spaced one inch apart. The tail of hair hung at least two feet down the length of his cloak. Now, though, his hair at least had some hi
nts of gray to mark his age. It was well known that the life spans of Bores could be considerably longer than that of Fories, but Cergio looked very young for his age, and Zander supposed that being king in times of peace might age a ruler very well.
Very well, indeed.
Cergio may age yet if we see war. Let’s wish him to stay young.
“Thank you for your kind words, Majesty. I can only hope to be as good a king as my father,” Zander replied.
“So please tell, who is the lucky lass that is to become queen?”
“Majesty, as much as I would like to present her to you now, I must decline until after King Ekkill’s arrival. I’m sure you are aware of the strong feelings held by the Tongars with respect to being left out from such matters.”
King Cergio began to laugh. It was a deep and heavy laugh. “Aye, you are quite right about that, so you are! We’d be set to never hear the end of it, both of us.”
They seemed to have forgotten that they stood surrounded by Fories who would be coming out to also greet the king of Tongar, and should not talk of Ekkill in such a way. They were reminded, though, when Cergio’s deep voice had rumbled throughout the courtyard.
“Yes, well,” Zander began, “my butlers will show your men to their quarters to become situated. In the meantime, may I offer a long overdue gift on behalf of the people of Forris?”
Zander turned and motioned for his squire to pull the white cloth from the cart. When he did, it revealed a large stack of gold cubes, each being a perfect cube of approximately four inches. Bella, still watching from the balcony, estimated the height and width of the stack to be about the same as that of Zander’s height.
King Cergio’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. The Kingdom of Bore, having no gold-producing mines of its own, coveted gold above all other material things.
“Thank you, Majesty, you are far too generous,” King Cergio said. “I also come bearing gifts, although I cannot present them personally in this courtyard. On behalf of the people of Bore, I have brought you five thousand Bore Horses of Noble breed. They are being tended just over the far hill.”