FOUR KINGS: A Novel

by M. D. Elster

  They nod, stand aside, and stare at me with curiosity as we pass.

  The ambassador struts with authority. I follow him as he leads me through one long glass corridor after another, our footfall echoing throughout. It is a very unusual castle, to be sure. There are very few paintings and decorations; everything is clean and sleek and devoid of too much ornamentation. While the Unicorn’s kingdom is a bit sterile-looking for my taste, it does seem very functional and orderly. Perhaps, I think, the leader of this northern kingdom has sacrificed ostentatious displays for the sake of social progress.

  But when Ambassador Peabody leads me to our destination, I am surprised — for this room, by contrast, bears an explosion of embellishment. We draw up to the doorway of a tremendous mirrored hall, two beautiful male lambs dressed in far more ornate guards’ uniforms incline their heads at us, and we pass on through.

  “Welcome, Anaïs, to the Hall of Infinite Refraction,” Ambassador Peabody says.

  I continue to trail after him, marveling at the sights all around me. I find myself in a long, wide, majestic hall. On one side the walls are covered in beautiful, ornate mirrors, all of them wreathed in beautiful garlands. The opposite wall is distinguished by floor-to-ceiling windows that give onto a breathtaking view of the royal city down below. Overhead, the ceiling is elaborately painted with a trompe l’oeil of the sunny spring sky, and bright spring blossoms hang suspended, like thick, puffy clouds made entirely of flowers. Every so often, the constellation of flowers shifts ever so slightly and a light shower of blossoms rains down. Just as with the walkway over the moat, the room is both breathtaking and utterly disorienting.

  The hall is also filled with milling bodies: courtiers and courtesans. As we make our way through them, they turn to inspect us. I see yet another unusual group of animal-headed men and women: I glimpse a horse, a duck, a goose, a white hare, a buffalo, and… is that a polar bear?

  Their manner of dress is unusual to me. The men wear robes that look very Roman — or even, almost monastic in style — but, like Ambassador Peabody’s, their robes are shimmery and colorful. There are lots of greens and turquoises and sapphire blues, lots of sunflower yellows and electric orange. The women wear dresses that crisscross and belt at the waist in a more feminine, yet similar manner.

  “Ah, yes, here we are,” Ambassador Peabody says. “Ahem, ahem… Your Highness?”

  We draw up to a cluster of men. As they turn around, I find myself staring into the equine face of a snowy white horse. He is mane-less, and crowned with a silvery horn. Unlike the men in colorful Roman robes, he wears a very stark, sleek gray military uniform embellished with what appear to be war medals. He studies me with puzzlement, batting a pair of white eyelashes over his strange brown animal eyes. In his human hand he is holding a long, horn-like, sleek, crystal glass of some kind of pinkish liquid, and standing at a distance (he even takes a cautious step back, as though he might catch a disease), he looks me over with a mixture of bafflement and curiosity.

  “What nature of creature have you brought us, Ambassador Peabody?” he asks, seeming utterly stumped by my presence.

  “Anaïs?” comes a voice from behind the Unicorn King. “What are you doing here?”

  The King steps aside, and I find myself looking at a familiar reddish-brown muzzle.

  CHAPTER 33.

  “Mr. Fletcher!”

  “Anaïs…” Mr. Fletcher blinks. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I came back to see if you were all right… but…” I throw a cautious glance at the Unicorn King and the clutch of courtiers surrounding him. “It seems much has changed in my absence.”

  “Yes!” Mr. Fletcher exclaims. “I shall have to tell you all about it. Oh, but where are my manners? There is a king for you to meet — our King, and soon, the only one!” He turns to the Unicorn King. “Your Highness, this is the human girl of which I spoke. May I present, Anaïs Reynard?”

  The King’s deep brown horse-eyes light up. He tosses his magnificent white head. “The human girl? Truly? In the flesh?”

  Mr. Fletcher nods and I give a reflexive curtsy.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Anaïs.” The Unicorn King looks me over from head to toe as I — much more surreptitiously — attempt to do the same in return. There is a curiously intimidating aura about the King; perhaps seeing his portrait so many times during my walk up to the palace has elevated him in my subconscious to the level of a celebrity. There is something striking, too, about the way his austere gray military uniform contrasts with all the brightly dressed nobles who surround him. The only flamboyant features on his person — his silvery horn and the medals pinned to the left side of his chest — are rendered all the more regal and magnificent by the humble understatement of his uniform. We continue to look each other over, though no doubt I am the one more impressed.

  “The human girl who helped Mr. Fletcher apprehend our killer!” he finally says. “It is an honor.”

  “I helped apprehend the killer?” I stammer. “Mr. Fletcher?” I look at the fox in bewilderment.

  “Did you not tell the human of his apprehension?” the Unicorn King asks.

  Mr. Fletcher shakes his head. “I haven’t yet had the chance to do so, Sire.”

  “Well, no matter. You will both be my guests of honor at tonight’s banquet,” the Unicorn King announces. “Yes. And as a matter of fact, it is time to prepare for the great feast! I shall see to it you both have seats at the high table.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Mr. Fletcher says, giving a courteous bow at the waist. “You do us such honor.”

  We both watch as the Unicorn King strides away on stiff, efficient legs, still surrounded by a pack of courtiers all congratulating him on his engagement.

  “Well, now, Anaïs…” Mr. Fletcher says, “I can see you have questions. But let’s go someplace private…” He pauses, looking me over from head to toe. Once again, I have arrived in a hospital nightgown. The only place no one seemed to mind my attire was in the rough-and-tumble court of the Lion King.

  “Yes; let’s go someplace you can also freshen up for tonight’s banquet,” Mr. Fletcher continues. “This one is even more important than all the others put together — it is, after all, a special feast, in celebration of the king’s engagement to the Young Cwen. Do you realize? — you are witnessing the making of history in our land! Please: Allow me to assist you. I’ll summon some ladies’ maids, and while you dress I will explain everything.”

  “All right,” I agree, and Mr. Fletcher immediately claps his hands, confiding a series of orders to a nearby servant.

  Minutes later, I find myself trailing Mr. Fletcher and a series of handmaidens (a group of young women with the heads of sweet does) as they make their way through the glass castle. The handmaidens aren’t ladies of the court, but rather, some variety of indentured servants — if I understand them correctly. They introduce themselves as Flora, Libera, and Ostara.

  “We shall find the young human just the thing to wear tonight!” Libera exclaims. Her black doe-nose is wet and shiny.

  “Won’t she be excited to see she’s been given the Diamond Room?” Flora titters. She is skittish in the manner of a doe; I can’t help but notice the way her ears flick towards every sound with acute attention.

  “Yes,” Mr. Fletcher agrees. “And here we are. We shall see what the human thinks… Anaïs? Will this abide?” He turns a key and pushes open a door to reveal a room more beautiful than any I have ever seen. Having occupied the Silver Room, the Gold Room, and the Opal Room, I’m curious.

  The Diamond Room is something I never anticipated. I stare at the space as the three ladies’ maids scurry around the room, preparing-this-and-that.

  “I’d say the human likes it,” Flora giggles at my dropped jaw.

  To begin, it is enormous, curves outward in a sharp oval, and boasts floor-to-ceiling glass windows that rise to meet very
tall ceilings. We are also very high up, and the windows look out over the enormous shallow moat; a waterfall jets from below one of the enormous panes of glass and spills out into the moat below. In the distance, the view turns to pristine mountains. The furniture in the room is very refined, but minimal. The bed is covered in only white silk, the settee is white, the chairs are white; with the final effect of all this being that all the furniture feels like small wisps of clouds floating high in the sky. The walls themselves are made out of a transparent substance — with their ever so slightly greenish tint, I assume they are made of glass. But as I step further into the room, I realize the glass is changing color, catching the light differently, depending on where I move.

  “You’re wondering what the walls are made out of, aren’t you?” Flora prods me, tittering again. I look at her, a puzzled frown on my face. “That’s a diamond-pane, that is… an entire pane of glass made out of compressed diamonds. The King had these walls made special.”

  “It’s true,” Ostara says. “Sleeping here is the absolute closest any creature-being will ever come to sleeping inside an actual diamond.” She smiles. “Now, shall we get you cleaned up and outfitted for the banquet?”

  She points to what I assume is a bathroom, located just behind a wall.

  “I’ll sit here so you can have some privacy while you bathe, but of course I’ll still be able to hear you if you’d like to ask your questions,” Mr. Fletcher says, settling into a chic white armchair in the sitting area.

  Suddenly, I feel awkward and strange. I glance dubiously at the semi-transparent walls that line every perimeter of the room.

  “Come now,” Mr. Fletcher says. “Have no shame. I am an uncle to you! Now — hurry, hurry! Get in the bath while it’s warm!”

  Hesitantly, I move into the en suite bathroom, where the ladies have indeed drawn a bath full of bubbles, oils, and perfumes. As quickly as I possibly can, I slip out of my clothes and hide myself in the bubbles. I jump when I feel something brush against my skin, but realize the handmaidens have added nearly a bushel of loose rose petals and other fresh blossoms.

  “Isn’t it a relief?” comes Mr. Fletcher’s voice. “Isn’t is a relief, Anaïs, to finally be the guest of a king you know you can trust? No more investigations, no more games! Our King is the righteous one, he is soon to command all, and you are safe!”

  “Mr. Fletcher,” I say, trying to keep my voice cool and collected. Each time I arrive in a new kingdom, I feel overwhelmed, and now — more than any other previous visit — I feel I must keep a level head. “You know what I want to know. The Unicorn King mentioned the blood thief has been apprehended, and someone in the Commoners’ Village said it was a courtier from the Lion King’s court, which made me think of… I mean, I can’t but help worry that it might be… but that’s impossible…”

  It is quiet for several seconds. I sit in the lovely warm water and listen to the soft, sighing shhhhh of the bubbles popping around me.

  “It sounds like you can already guess the answer,” Mr. Fletcher finally informs me.

  I feel a little tickle of dread. “Please, just tell me.”

  From within the bathroom, I hear Mr. Fletcher sigh out in the sitting room.

  “It was Sir Lewin, Anaïs,” Mr. Fletcher says. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. To think… I left you alone with him! And it was Sir Lewin all along…”

  The bath water is very warm, but at this, I go completely cold.

  “But… that doesn’t make sense. Sir… Sir Lewin?” I stammer. “I don’t understand how that is possible…”

  “Unfortunately, it was all too possible, my dear Anaïs,” Mr. Fletcher replies. “I hadn’t thought through the particulars, and I should have; I’m sorry.”

  “But… I still don’t understand…” I say. “When we were at the Court of the Snake King… we’d obtained the page you wanted from Snake’s grimoire, Sir Fletcher — he promised me to deliver it to you. He looked in my eyes and promised. He wasn’t lying.”

  Mr. Fletcher clears his throat, and in a businesslike manner, relays the particulars. “Sir Lewin was found, Anaïs, on the road, returning to the Lion King. In his satchel he had several incriminating items. He had the Snake King’s grimoire page… but there were other items as well. I didn’t believe he was capable either, until I saw what was in the satchel with my own eyes…”

  I wait, but Mr. Fletcher’s voice trails off.

  “What?” I demand. “What else could they have possibly found in his satchel?”

  “A written order from the Lion King commanding him to act as his secret assassin, for one. There were several vials of blood, of course, which didn’t look good for the leopard — but of course we could not prove they were human. But the turn of events that convinced me was that he was carrying around several bloodied bandages I recognized. I recognized them because they were the bandages once worn by you, Anaïs, when your wounds were dressed at Lion’s court. Bandages containing your blood,” Mr. Fletcher says, and stops flat.

  “So… he had the grimoire page, the order, and the blood — including my blood — and he was headed back to the Lion King?”

  “It appears so.”

  I sit in the water, perfectly still. The three handmaidens buzzing about me have gone to another room — quite possibly in another part of the castle — to pick out something suitable for me to wear to the banquet. It is very quiet throughout the bathroom, throughout the Diamond Room at large. I hear a droplet of errant water splash from the spigot into the bathwater.

  “Anaïs?” Mr. Fletcher calls from the other room. I squint at the diamond-pane wall, and can just about make out the dark silhouette of him as he stands from his chair. “Are you all right?”

  I say nothing.

  “I understand how difficult it must be for you to hear about that — about those bloody bandages,” Mr. Fletcher says. “And I can’t imagine how unsettled you must be. I thought perhaps he fancied you, but the evidence suggests he was commissioned to collect a sample of your blood. We’re lucky he didn’t try to collect more. I’m sorry — can you forgive me?”

  Again, I am silent.

  “Say something! Do you wish for me to come in there?” he asks.

  Mr. Fletcher is a comfort, but something feels wrong. I don’t want his consolation.

  “No,” I say, my voice resolute. “I’d like to be alone for a few moments, as a matter of fact.”

  I can see Mr. Fletcher shuffling on his feet nervously.

  “I’d like to be alone,” I repeat.

  There is a long pause. Mr. Fletcher clears his throat but doesn’t speak. Perhaps he is worried he I am angry at him for pairing me up with Sir Lewin, who he is now claiming could have easily murdered me. That’s not the reason I want to be alone, of course. I’m not angry with Mr. Fletcher; I’m simply… shocked. And maybe disappointed, I suppose, in Sir Lewin… in who I thought he was.

  “Go on,” I urge yet again. “I will see you at the Unicorn King’s high table.”

  “As you wish, Anaïs. Again… I am sorry. I never meant to put you in danger.”

  I hear a soft click of the door as he leaves.

  CHAPTER 34.

  I sit in the water and think, my fingers and toes pruning. Sir Lewin? I had not suspected Sir Lewin for a second. I feel a little sickened — whether by Sir Lewin or by my own idiocy, it is difficult to say.

  Eventually, the three doe-headed maidens return, and force me to stir from my comatose state. They dress me in a series of raw silk robes, and I notice that the fabric is quite beautiful. The robes are alternately dyed pale blue and deep sapphire; they remind me of the carpet of bluebells back home in the Hallerbos.

  “I dare say, that blue matches the human’s eyes,” Libera comments approvingly.

  They plait my hair in a series of elaborate braids, give me a pair of beaded slippers, and declare me ready for the banquet.

  As with everything else in the Unicorn King
’s castle, his banquet hall is somewhat atypical. It is indoors, but a large portion of the roof is open to the outdoors. It is also set up rather like a theater — perhaps even better described as an amphitheater. The glass floor hugs the cavernous room in a half-moon, creating a balcony over more banquet tables down below.

  “Who sits down there?” I ask.

  “Commoners from the city within the wall,” says Ostara. “The castle walls not only protect the palace, but they also protect our capital; commoners are an important part of our kingdom. They are invited to attend all banquets in the commoners’ seating. The King is generous.”

  Though it is perfectly light inside the banquet hall, enormous torches burn along the walls. Long black banners, each emblazoned with a stark white diamond hang from every wall and balcony. I follow them with my eyes down through the commoners’ lower level, towards an elevated glass platform on the opposite side.

  “You’re wondering why there’s a stage in here, aren’t you?” Ostara asks, following my gaze. “Here in the Unicorn King’s realm, banquets are often accompanied by entertainment. We are frequently treated to pageants and political rallies; all the best the kingdom has to offer — all to glorify our great leader.”

  “I see.”

  “As a matter of fact, you will see! There is certain to be some entertainment tonight. Ah! But now the time nears for the banquet to start.”

  Ostara scurries away. Mr. Fletcher spies me from across the room and comes to collect me.

  “I’ll show you to your seat,” he says, “but first, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” He reaches to tap a man on the shoulder. The man is standing with his back to us, and I cannot make out what manner of creature he is, but I notice immediately that he is quite large and bulky; a rather egg-shaped man with a large paunch around his middle. I also notice his manner of dress. Everyone around us is dressed in colorful robes, looking a little like Roman senators, save for three exceptions: the Unicorn King in his severe gray uniform, Mr. Fletcher in his in his customary blue velvet waistcoat, jacket, and cravat, and lastly, the man being tapped on the shoulder now. As he turns around I notice he wears trousers and a collared shirt familiar to my modern human world, and a long black lab coat. When he turns around and I get a good glimpse of his face, I let out a gasp. The man notices my surprise, and laughs.