Candlewax

by C. Bailey Sims

  A great billow of smoke rolled out toward them.

  “Cover up!” William yelled. Everyone dove for the ground and covered their noses and mouths with their shirts. He could feel the heat of the smoke pressing down on him; he tasted the smoky air through the fabric of his shirt. One minute. Two. If the wind didn’t switch back soon he would have to retreat. He then felt a whoosh of cold air hit his back, and he lifted his head. The wind had changed again.

  William blinked. Like ghosts, several bulky shapes were lurching toward them out of the shimmering heat.

  “CONRAD!” William leapt to his feet and sprinted to the men. He could hear Gavin yelling behind him. One of the shapes sunk to the streambed. William ran harder, reaching the fallen man and dragging him forward. His face was black with soot and he was hacking uncontrollably. The men were covered in dark, slimy blankets, as were the horses.

  “Take the hoods off the horses and let ‘em go!” William yelled to those who were still standing. Once free, the horses bolted away from the fire. The man in his arms sunk down to the streambed again. William grabbed him and hoisted him over his shoulders and stumbled forward. The other two men hobbled after him.

  The trumpeter saw what was happening and blew a victory signal. Soon a mob of soldiers pressed around them. White smiles flashed all around. William gently lowered the man to the ground. He was breathing with a deep wheezing sound.

  “It’s Peter,” said Conrad from behind William. “Got my hand caught in the reins when my horse spooked and he saved me. The horse was dragging me into the fire and Peter got caught in the flames.” He knelt next to Peter.

  Peter lay face up on the ground, his eyes filled with pain. His eyebrows and eyelashes were singed. William looked at the palms of Peter’s hands and saw that they were blistered and burned.

  “You did well, Peter,” said William. He rose and turned to two soldiers, bellowing, “Get this man back to the castle! Conrad, you and Raff go with them.”

  Conrad and Raff did not move. “If it’s alright with you, William, we want to stay.”

  William shook his head. “No, Conrad. I am sending you and Raff back to tell Sebastian to bring up the foot soldiers and any villager—man or woman—with a saw or an ax. We must extend this circle of fire as far as we can while there is still time.”

  He reached out and gently grasped Conrad’s shoulder. “Now, before you go, tell me of the trodliks. How did our defenses work?”

  The expansive grounds of Candlewax Castle were completely covered with the makeshift camps of people from the outer villages. Even the villagers of nearby Ryeburg had decided to flee to the castle. Oily smoke hung in the air, darkening the noonday sun. Warren could smell the fires that were burning more than a hundred miles away.

  No one thought anything was amiss when thousands of men dressed as farmers, shepherds, and craftsmen came pouring in from the countryside, mixing in with the others. After all, who could recognize all of the subjects of Candlewax? The traitor has accomplished much, whoever he is. The day the Candlewax King’s Guard had left to fight the trodliks Warren had found a stone in his coat pocket, the signal to quickly report back to Krenaka. Upon returning, he put Kallik’s instructions for the traitor behind a loose stone in an old wall of Rogard’s fortress.

  Warren watched as more of Kallik’s men passed the guards and crossed over the drawbridge. He sneered gleefully at one particularly burly man with a large square face, who was leading a nanny goat with a bell around its neck. I see Kallik has given Jessup a job. I outrank him now. The goat had stopped in the middle of the drawbridge and was refusing to budge. The sound of its bleating added to the cacophony of children crying and cows mooing. The man with the square face glared at Warren and then kicked the goat hard in the rump.

  Warren smiled with satisfaction at the new authority he had, and how much more power he would gain when this was all over. His ill fortune of having nearly been killed by Spelopokos now brought a trove of treasure within his reach. Kallik had promised him that. There would be bloodshed tonight. The man himself was coming. By sunrise, Candlewax Castle will belong to Kallik.

  Conrad and Raff bumped along in the wagon toward Candlewax Castle. The empty villages along the way were strewn with possessions that no one had had room to pack. Here and there a crow picked at a bit of food left behind in the disarray. Peter lay moaning on the floor of the wagon with three other burned soldiers. There had been no time for any of them to wash, so they rode along with the skin of their faces taut and dry and sooty, silently contemplating the work ahead.

  Conrad thought of the miles of fire holding back the trodliks.

  They were entering Ryeburg. It was deserted. Conrad closed his eyes and rested. He had not slept for a very long time, but despite this, his eyes involuntarily flooded with tears. He brushed them away with the back of his hand and tried again to take a nap. He and Raff wanted to go back to help William after meeting with Sebastian and if he did not sleep now he wouldn’t have another chance. Just as he felt the blessed release of unconsciousness someone shook him.

  “Mmmmfff,” he slurred.

  “We’re here, Conrad,” said Raff.

  Conrad rubbed his eyes to clear away the fatigue and focused on the castle ahead. He took a seat next to the driver and called back to Raff, “Sebastian has the bridge up. I wonder if there’s been trouble with Kallik. Why else would he raise it?”

  “Maybe he wasn’t sure who would get here first, us or the trodliks.” Raff came to the front and sat beside Conrad.

  “Maybe.” Conrad felt unsettled. He looked at the castle walls and was relieved to see the brightly colored tunics of the guards. The Candlewax pennants hung limply on their staffs.

  “Who goes there?” shouted a guard.

  “Conrad of Candlewax. Lower the bridge! We’ve orders from William!”

  There was a long minute of silence before the gears started to creak and rumble as the huge suspension chains unwound. The bridge began to drop toward them, and the driver urged the horses forward. Even from his narrow view, Conrad could see that the castle courtyard was overflowing with people from the outlying villages. A sea of faces looked at them to see who was coming across the bridge.

  Conrad looked at the castle guards, expecting to greet them. His mouth hung open in surprise.

  “Who are those men?” Raff asked. “They are wearing Candlewax tunics.”

  “I don’t know, Raff. Maybe Sebastian recruited some of the villagers. Why he’d give them bridge duty, I can’t fathom,” Conrad answered through gritted teeth. “William never would have done that.” Once they crossed the moat, the guards began to draw the bridge up again. One of them smirked at Conrad.

  “What was that look for? Did you see him, Conrad?” whispered Raff. “I guess we look like two cinders, but you are still a superior and he should know that.”

  “It’s not important. We’ll straighten it out with Sebastian.” Raising his voice, Conrad said, “Show us to Sebastian. It’s urgent!” One of the unfamiliar guards approached the wagon.

  “Come with me and I’ll take you to him.”

  Conrad looked back in the wagon at the three burned soldiers. Peter was awake. Conrad smiled at him and nodded reassuringly. “Stay here. We’ll send out litters to carry you into the castle. It won’t be long.” He looked at the driver and said, “Keep the wagon in this spot so we can find you in the crowd when we come back out to the castle yard.”

  Conrad and Raff followed the guard through the melee.

  “I have not seen you here at the castle before,” Conrad said to the guard as he stepped around two sleeping pigs.

  “Just trying to do my bit to help in these hard times,” answered the man.

  “Sebastian has put you in uniform, I see,” continued Conrad.

  “Aye. He thought it would be good for the crowd to see more authority around them. Got to keep order, you know.” The man was headed toward Rogard’s fortress. The ancient rectangular stone structure, built by the
first Candlewax king, seemed somehow menacing in the smoke-dimmed afternoon.

  “Why is Sebastian in Rogard’s fortress?” asked Raff. The guard just smiled and ignored the question. Conrad frowned. There was nothing much there anymore but servants’ quarters and the old dungeon.

  They followed the guard through the open door of Rogard’s hall. There sat Sebastian, a crowd of strange guards standing around. Next to him on a table were a pint of ale and a bowl of fruit.

  “Conrad! Raff? Is that you under all that soot? Come tell me how my dear William fares fighting the trodliks!”

  “Since when does Sebastian think William is his ‘dear William’? Is he drunk?” muttered Raff. Conrad stepped cautiously toward Sebastian, his senses on high alert. Something was very wrong.

  “The situation is dire, Sebastian. William has ordered up all of the remaining foot soldiers here and most of the castle guard. He also wants every able-bodied villager to come at once to help extend the fire line. We are trying to encircle Candlewax Kingdom to ward off the trodliks. Nothing else will stop them.”

  Sebastian gave a gusty sigh and waved his hand absently. “So that is what all this blasted smoke is from. Rather a nuisance, don’t you think, Conrad?” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp above his nonchalant smile. Someone snickered. Conrad’s skin prickled.

  “What’s wrong with you, Sebastian? Don’t you realize what’s happening?”

  Sebastian’s grin vanished. “My dear Conrad, I am afraid it is you who doesn’t realize what is happening. I’m in charge now. William won’t be giving me orders anymore. Nor will that moronic boy you call ‘king’.”

  A dangerous silence fell. Conrad looked around the room and found no quarter in the faces there. The men behind Sebastian had their hands on their weapons. His eyes reached Raff. Mouth agape, Raff was a picture of disbelief. This can’t be happening.

  Conrad took a deep breath. “Sebastian! Have you lost your senses? You must do as William says immediately or we will all die! Don’t be a fool!” Two of Sebastian’s guards moved closer. Conrad swallowed and lowered his voice, desperate. “If you don’t send help, you will be the ruler of a wasteland, not a kingdom. Have you thought of that?”

  “I will not be sending help. William has chosen his fate. The trodliks will finish him and the rest of the King’s Guard.” Sebastian glowered at him and then smiled indulgently. “Take these men to the dungeon with the rest of them.”

  The guards grabbed Conrad and Raff by the arms. Ready for them, Conrad threw off their attempt and made for the door, only to be jumped by three more men. One swung at Conrad and missed. Conrad plowed into the man in front of him and lifted him off his feet, smashing him into the wall.

  He spun in time to grip the next man by the sword arm, forcing the blade from his hand as he wrenched the man’s arm behind his back. His attacker screamed in pain, and Conrad tossed him to the floor. Another man grabbed him around his neck from behind. Conrad turned and, using the wall as a springboard, braced his feet and catapulted himself over his attacker. He pulled the man up by the ankles and sent him headfirst into the wall.

  No longer smiling, Sebastian was on his feet. “Get him! Don’t just stand there!” he bellowed. More men rushed at Conrad, their swords drawn. They pinned him to the wall with the points of their blades.

  Breathing hard, Conrad looked for Raff. His friend stood next to Sebastian. His wrists were bound, and he seemed smaller somehow. Frightened... Conrad sent him a wink, then turned. “You’ll regret this, Sebastian.”

  “I don’t think so.” Sebastian pulled his dagger from its sheath and stuck the point into an apple from the bowl on the table. He pulled the fruit from the blade and fixed Conrad with a baleful stare. “Perhaps a few days in the dungeon with only bread and water will change your mind, Conrad. I could use a man like you in my army. Besides, Kallik pays well.”

  Conrad cleared his throat and spat. “Kallik! I should have known. You are the lowest scum there is, Sebastian. Traitor to Candlewax! Traitor to Cyril! I hope the trodliks eat your bones!” he shouted.

  Sebastian’s face turned purple with rage. He gripped his dagger and suddenly shoved the blade into Raff’s gut, smiling as he drew it up toward the dying man’s heart.

  “NO!” Conrad’s scream brought Raff’s terrified eyes toward his. They closed as he sunk to his knees and then fell forward, face first. Enraged, Conrad struggled against his captors.

  He felt his arms being pulled behind his back, his hands bound. Then a fist landed in his stomach. As he fought for air, Sebastian came into view, his dagger still red with Raff’s blood. He drew the blade across Conrad’s cheek, slicing into the skin.

  “I want you to remember who did this to you, Conrad. Either you’ll end up fighting for me, or you’ll end up dead. Like Raff here.” Sebastian bent and wiped his blade on Raff’s shirt, then gestured toward Conrad. “Get him out of my sight.”

  He took a bite out of the apple.

  “’Bout time we had some real food,” mumbled Menard, his mouth full. Bessie grinned. She had managed to take the same unappetizing ingredients the Cinnans used and coax them into a real meal.

  Catherine watched as Cyril also shoveled the food down, trying to figure out just how Bessie had worked her magic. Then she gave up and helped herself to seconds. They had all lost a little weight during their stay at Cinna Fortress. She settled again next to Cyril and looked out over All Souls Ravine. It was a bright, cold morning.

  “They usually don’t use fire to cook, see,” Bessie was saying. “They make their cheeses at night when no one can see the smoke. Want to keep the Fortress a secret. During the day they figure out ways to serve food cold. Quor told me.”

  “You’re being too kind. Now this is food, Bessie,” mumbled Menard.

  “It’s something I made up. I’ve never actually tried fried barley cakes with butter and ground nuts on top. It just seemed like it might taste good, especially with honey drizzled over it.”

  “I feel like I could march all day on this meal, Bessie. It’s that good,” said Cyril.

  Menard looked up with honey dripping down his chin. “Aye. We might just be marching all day, Cyril. As soon as those fairrier cats show up, we’ll head straight for the Gate. Don’t know what’s keeping them. It’s been daylight for two hours.”

  “Uh, Menard?” Catherine stood up slowly and smiled as more than four dozen fairrier cats suddenly appeared, forming a half-circle behind them. “They’re here.”

  “By the flames of Candlewax, I wish they would stop that sneaking up!” Menard jumped to his feet. His flushed face belied his attempts at composure.

  Catherine turned to address the large male cat standing directly in front of her. As she held the pendant she wondered if it would work if she spoke her words. It was important now for the others to hear.

  “Zekkarados, can you understand me if I say my words aloud?”

  “Yes, Catherine. We can.” There was no sound as he spoke directly to Catherine’s consciousness.

  “These are my friends. This is Bessie.” Bessie nodded her head cautiously. Her face was pale as she warily eyed the cats surrounding them. Catherine continued. “Menard is our counselor.” Menard looked up at Catherine and smiled at the word “our.” Catherine took Cyril’s hand, meeting his warm gaze. “And this is King Cyril of Candlewax. We are betrothed.”

  “He will be a fine mate,” approved Zekkarados. Catherine blushed at his words and was glad that only she had heard him. Cyril squeezed her hand and looked down at her, puzzled. Three spots of dried blood still dotted his chest where Zekkarados had punctured his skin. Catherine smiled back at him.

  “There are many of you! Lackanay will rejoice at your coming,” said Catherine.

  “My wives are Jalamina, Sekiri, and Lathuna. Our daughters are Keeshara, Laureleye, Bizantora, Jakeetha, and Valeeri. Our sons are Garrahendeth and Murzodan.” The fairrier cats bowed their heads as Zekkarados said their names. Catherine repeated each name alou
d in turn. “Three of our children no longer run with the pride because of you. Two others also were killed that night. We only have them in our dreams now.”

  “I am sorry, Zekkarados.”

  “As you said, Cinna is a hard place to raise cubs. They would have eaten you. The survivors told us of the strange fairrier cat but knew nothing of the Ancient Onyxes. It is not to be spoken of again.”

  “Who are the other cats?”

  “More than can be introduced. There are four males and the rest are females.”

  “I didn’t know so many of you lived together. Spelopokos was all alone.”

  “Some live alone here in Cinna, too. Fairrier cats choose for themselves how many mates they will have and where they will live. All of these have chosen Lackanay. Some of my pride are staying here in Cinna.” Zekkarados lowered his head, his eyes the same dull violet that she had once seen with Pokos.

  “You will find many deer in Lackanay. Perhaps you and I will return to get the others some day.”

  “We will sing to them every night. Now I urge you to take us to the Gate, Catherine of the Onyxes. There were few rodents to catch last night and there are many of us. The sooner you bring us through the Gate, the better. I am their leader, and they listen to me, but they are very, VERY hungry.”

  Catherine nodded and let go of the pendant. “Time to go. The sooner we reach the Gate the better.” She echoed Zekkarados’s words.

  They broke camp and took only those things they absolutely needed. Catherine begged fur from Zekkarados to speed their journey. He had never heard of such a thing, but willingly yielded up handfuls of fur to Catherine, who in turn passed it to Bessie, Menard, and Cyril. When she had finished adding to the fur in her own socks, they started back to the Gate at a moderate pace. Zekkarados ran in front and his wives and offspring surrounded them on all sides. The rest of the cats kept as close to them as the terrain allowed, spilling over the mountain like a bizarre flock of sheep.