The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  “I wonder where Mr. Smithers is off to,” Molly said, scanning the empty parking lot. “Maybe enjoying some free time while Emma is visiting Queen Eleanor.”

  “That’s the least of our concerns,” her brother said as they approached the bridge farther up the road. “Look!”

  They were quickly thrust back into grim reality when spotting a fresh set of footprints trailing down the snowy embankment toward the stone support underneath the river bridge. Christopher and Molly glanced at one another, acknowledging the difficult task ahead before trudging through the snow in utter silence.

  After passing through a kaleidoscope of twirling stars, Christopher and Molly stepped into Artemas’ chamber for the second time in eight days. A few candles had been recently lit which cast a dull glow in parts of the room. The fireplace stood cold and barren. Molly opened one of the balcony doors, curious as to the time of day. A cold damp breeze and the sooty darkness greeted her, so she quickly retreated inside.

  “Maybe we will need our jackets,” she said glumly, not sure at how late an hour they had arrived.

  “We need to find King Rupert right away,” Christopher said, heading out to the corridor. “And if we have to wake him up, so be it. Let’s go.”

  They scurried down the passageway illuminated with a gentle flicker of torchlight, prepared to make their way to the lower levels. But a stern voice in the distant shadows halted their progress.

  “Go no farther,” a man spoke as he approached, the torchlight revealing him to be one of King Rupert’s castle guards. “You must come with me at once.”

  “We have important information about Artemas!” Molly said. “We need to see King Rupert right away.”

  “It’s very urgent,” Christopher added, looking the man directly in the eyes. “The King will definitely want to speak with us.”

  “You’re certain of that?” The guard sighed as a half smile spread across his face. “You must come with me at once,” he repeated, turning down a side corridor and signaling for Christopher and Molly to follow. They reluctantly did so.

  “Are we in trouble?” Molly whispered to her brother. “I thought we had free run of this place after saving Endora how many times?”

  “Shhh,” he replied. “Save that speech for later.”

  “Wise advice,” the guard muttered as he walked briskly ahead.

  Minutes later they stepped into a room near one of the armories. A man sat hunched over a small wooden table sipping a mug of hot tea while looking over some words that had been hastily scribbled on a piece of parchment. Several candles burned on the makeshift desk, the only light in the room. He glanced up at the new arrivals and offered a tired smile.

  “Even I don’t ordinarily awake at this early hour, but Emmett here, one of the guards on the night watch, brought this to my attention,” he said, briefly holding up the piece of parchment. “I had anticipated a visit from you after reading this note.”

  “What’s going on, Ulric?” Christopher asked as he and Molly crowded around King Rupert’s chief guard.

  “But first, what time is it?” Molly inquired.

  “Still a couple of hours before sunrise,” Ulric said, inviting them to sit down on a few wooden chairs nearby. “May I offer you a hot drink on a chilly morning?”

  “Yes, please,” she said.

  Moments later, the three drank from steaming mugs of ginger root tea and nibbled on cold buttered biscuits. Emmett stood at attention on the opposite side of the table. Christopher and Molly briefly explained how Belthasar’s spirit had secretly entered their world inside a mosquito, and how a short time ago it had overtaken Artemas and returned through the timedoor. Both hoped that their parents and Vergil were now free.

  “Does this meeting have anything to do with that note?” Molly asked, trying to sneak a glance at its contents. Christopher nudged his sister with an elbow.

  “Don’t worry. I was planning to read it aloud to both of you,” Ulric said, glancing at Emmett. “Artemas gave it to my guard a short time ago.”

  “That is true,” Emmett replied. “I saw him just as he was leaving his chamber. He hurriedly placed the note into my hands with instructions to deliver it to Ulric. Then he sped away. I didn’t get a chance to question him.”

  Before Molly could inquire about the contents of the note, Ulric held it near the candlelight softly reflecting off his weary wind-burned face. He read the brief message.

  Go to the Inn of the Twelve Horses. Keep an eye out for the Jordans.

  Christopher tapped a finger against the side of his mug. “I can decipher the second part of that message easily enough. But where is the Inn of the Twelve Horses?”

  “It opened along the main road near the third outpost last autumn,” Ulric said. “With increased travel between here and Solárin, people want places to eat and sleep to make the long journey less of a burden. Apparently Artemas wants us to go there.”

  “Why?” Molly asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. After Emmett handed me this note, I sent a messenger to the guards at the main gate. They reported that Artemas had left on horseback, but he didn’t say where he was going.”

  “Can we be sure it was Artemas who wrote that note and left the castle?” Christopher asked. “Belthasar is still inside him. This has to be some sort of a trick.”

  “You may be right,” Emmett agreed. “When Artemas handed me the note he appeared to be himself. But as he was leaving the corridor, I sensed, well… He just seemed to be–different. Something about the eyes.”

  “This is a curious situation,” Ulric concluded, “so we must be on our guard.”

  Molly dunked half a biscuit into her tea and ate it. “What do you plan to do?” she asked as Ulric offered a slight grin upon viewing her snacking habits.

  “First we will consult with King Rupert to get his opinion,” he said, folding the piece of parchment and placing it in a shirt pocket as he stood up. “Then we’ll pay a visit to the Inn of the Twelve Horses where I can get you a proper breakfast!”

  “Considering that we didn’t get to have dinner back home, another breakfast will hit the spot,” Christopher said as he and Molly followed Ulric out of the room.

  “We’ll need all the energy we can get to track down Belthasar,” Molly said, ready to pursue him. “Let’s end this nonsense once and for all!”

  “I am certain that Belthasar is thinking the very same thing,” King Rupert said a short while later after Molly repeated her comment in one of his private chambers. All were seated at a large table, enveloped in the glow of a crackling blaze in the fireplace. Ulric and some of his fellow soldiers were also present. “So do not embark on this mission too lightly. Much danger lies ahead.”

  “I understand,” Molly said, gazing at the dancing flames. “It’s just that I’m eager to get underway. And I’m so worried about Mom, Dad and Vergil. I feel I have to do something–and soon!”

  “That’s exactly how I felt after Malaban’s troops had kidnapped Rosalind,” King Rupert replied, recalling those dreadful days. “I was trapped in your world, unable to rescue my daughter, and I felt as anxious and miserable as you are right now.”

  “How well I remember that,” Christopher said. “Plus you knew Malaban was hiding out in our world and you tried to keep it secret. You were a wreck!”

  Molly laughed. “Until Mr. Smithers spilled the beans after we tackled him at our campsite! That’s when we found out the whole story.”

  King Rupert blushed. “Not my finest moment, I’ll admit. But the point is we were successful.”

  “And we will be this time as well,” Ulric added.

  Molly nodded, trying to appear confident. “Only we don’t have Mr. Smithers or Artemas riding along with us.”

  “Or me either,” King Rupert said. “This operation is to gather information, at least at the outset. Ulric and his men can certainly handle that without my interference.”

  “We were hoping you would ride along with us,” Christopher
said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. “Can’t you change his mind, Ulric?”

  Ulric grinned. “Change his mind? I have as much chance of doing that as I do changing your mind about not riding along. After all, neither you nor your sister has been recruited for this mission.”

  “Ulric!” Molly spouted with a sigh. “As if we needed to be invited along.”

  “You’re right,” he replied as a few of the soldiers laughed among themselves. “You and your brother would have followed us anyway, invitation or not. So now that that is settled, we will depart in one hour. I have sent word to the stable hands to prepare five horses for a swift departure. You two will accompany me and two of my men to the Inn of the Twelve Horses. And whether we find Artemas, Belthasar or some other mischief there remains to be seen.”

  “Well, it will be interesting,” Christopher commented to Molly when everyone stood to leave. Some of the soldiers talked among themselves as they drifted out. Emmett, who had also attended the meeting and was about to go off duty, stayed back when Ulric signaled him to approach.

  “Just like old times,” Molly replied as she and Christopher headed toward the door. She craned her neck sideways at the last moment and noticed Ulric speaking to Emmett in private. Emmett nodded sharply and quickly departed through another exit as Ulric followed everyone else out the main door. “You never know what to expect around the next corner.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Inn of the Twelve Horses

  The five travelers departed King Rupert’s castle on horseback as the last remnants of darkness clung to the landscape like a loose fitting cloak. Christopher, Molly and Ulric rode alongside each other, their three horses gently galloping northward along the main road that stretched across the plains. The low eastern hills and the majestic mountains looming in the west were still obscured by the last shadows of the night. Garrin, one of the two accompanying soldiers, took the lead while Collus, the second, followed and kept watch at the end of the line. A damp breeze swept across the fields dotted with stubborn patches of snow that refused to bow to the inevitable warm breath of spring.

  “This reminds me of our first journey to Malaban’s fortress to rescue Princess Rosalind,” Molly said. “Except we’re five years older now. Can you believe it?”

  “Luckily, Malaban’s fortress is now King Jeremiah’s castle,” Christopher noted.

  “And in spite of this chilly wind, the weather is more pleasant overall. I’m quite comfortable in these clothes Queen Eleanor gave us.”

  “She thought you’d appear less noticeable, Molly, if you didn’t wear those bright colorful coats from back home,” Ulric said with a smile.

  Christopher and Molly were each outfitted with brown riding boots that slipped over their blue jeans, and a long heavy woolen pullover shirt secured with a braided leather cord belt. Molly chose a forest green hooded cloak to wear as an outer garment. Christopher donned a long jacket of the same material secured with a column of brown buttons. He covered his head with a gray and black knit ski cap which he refused to leave back at the castle.

  “We’ll only have to travel a few miles to reach our destination,” Ulric said. “And a warm meal awaits us instead of an angry mob of trolls and goblins.”

  “What awaits us beyond the inn is what I’m worried about,” Christopher replied.

  “Me too,” Molly said, tightening her grip on the reins. “We always had Artemas and his magic to count on. Now he has to count on us to save him. I hope we don’t let him down.”

  “He knows we’ll come after him,” her brother assured her. “He’d do the same for us in a heartbeat.”

  “I know. He’s gotten us out of countless jams. I just hope–” Molly choked up for a moment. “I just hope he knows that we’ll try. With Belthasar in command, well, I’m not sure how much longer Artemas will be aware of anything anymore.”

  They remained silent for some time, each dealing with a troubling mix of thoughts and emotions. The horses trotted briskly along the road as the wind whistled mournfully across the darkened landscape.

  A gray and misty dawn inched across the eastern hills like a suspicious cat as the travelers arrived at the Inn of the Twelve Horses. The two-story building of stone and wood had been constructed to withstand the strongest winds that swept across the plains from time to time. Thin curls of smoke rose from its three chimneys, drifting to the northeast. Less than a quarter mile up the road stood the third outpost built between Endora and Solárin. A handful of maple and pine trees grew in the vicinity, providing travelers some cool shade when they visited in the summer months.

  Even in the pale first light, Christopher and Molly immediately noticed the intricate carvings of horses in the huge uppermost beam of oak just below the roof. The artwork depicted a dozen noble stallions spread across the front of the building, some running like the wind itself while a few others rose proudly on two legs. Most of the horses, however, simply stood with heads raised or bowed in regal silence. The siblings gazed in awe at the lifelike beauty of the artwork.

  “Wait until you look upon them in the sunlight, then you’ll truly be impressed,” Ulric said as he dismounted. “There’s a small stream on the side of the inn. We can water our steeds and tie them up there before we go inside. Someone will feed them shortly.”

  “And us too, I hope,” Molly said as she walked her horse across the grass. “I have a monstrous appetite in search of a three-course breakfast!”

  “You won’t be disappointed,” one of the soldiers said. “Henry Droon and his family run a fine establishment. He’ll feed you properly.”

  “Garrin is right. I’ve known Henry and his wife for many years, and both are excellent cooks,” Ulric said. After tending to their horses, he led the group along a stone path to the front door. Since many of the overnight lodgers were still sound asleep, most of the wooden shutters on the second floor were closed.

  They left the chilly morning behind when they stepped inside the Twelve Horses, greeted by a roaring fire and the subdued voices of a few visitors enjoying an early breakfast. Three long wooden tables and benches stretched along the length of the room, with a few smaller tables tucked into an odd spot where space allowed. A short counter had been built against the wall near the kitchen door, behind which were shelves of dishes, extra candles and a couple of small casks of ale. Various dried herbs hung upside down from the ceiling beams above.

  Molly took a seat at the end of one table nearest the fireplace and signaled for the others to join her. A couple and their two children were seated at the other end of that same table and a half dozen unshaven men sat at the one farthest away, engrossed in their meal. Two of the men glanced at Ulric and his companions as they joined Molly. Another individual with his back to the crowd sat hunched over a tiny table near the far window, sipping on a mug of hot tea and picking at the dried beef and potatoes on his plate, ignoring everyone. He chewed his food noisily, his whiskered chin moving up and down like a well-oiled piece of machinery. One of his bottom front teeth was missing. A few other guests were scattered about the room as three servers drifted from table to table.

  “What’s on the menu?” Christopher asked.

  Ulric pointed to a girl a few years older than Molly who hurried over to greet them. She wore a long blue apron over her clothes and a kerchief of the same material covered her head.

  “She’ll let you know,” he said, waving at Henry Droon’s youngest daughter Ella as she approached.

  “Hello, Ulric!” she said with a surprised smile. “My father mentioned only a short while ago that he had a feeling you’d show up one of these days soon. How could he have possibly known that?”

  “He knows I like the food you serve here,” he replied, quickly introducing Ella to everyone. “What’s good for breakfast on this fine day for five hungry travelers?”

  “Only the best we have to offer!”

  A short while later they filled their plates from a large wooden bowl of steaming scrambled eggs m
ixed with bits of fried beef, diced apples and fresh herbs, accompanied by a bowl of wild mushroom gravy. A plate of biscuits, honey and butter were also served with a kettle of hot tea and dried spiced pear rings. Christopher and Molly merely smiled at Ulric in approval as they were too busy eating to waste time with words.

  Midway through breakfast, a tall man with a shock of graying brown hair and a wild mustache lumbered over to Ulric’s table. A ragged towel was tossed over his shoulder, and his shirt cried out with splatterings of butter and egg yolk. He extended a hand as Ulric stood to greet him.

  “I’m always delighted when an old friend visits,” Henry Droon said, joining the others at the table as Ulric made another round of introductions.

  “I’m glad your new place seems to being doing so well,” Molly said.

  “Business is quite good. Too good sometimes,” Henry said with a sigh. “Another hour and this room will be overflowing with hungry guests. I had to hire more help.”

  “That’s great,” Christopher said.

  “Great for the cashbox, but not so good for my sleep,” he joked. “Sometimes I tell my wife that we should have stayed in the village where life was simpler.”

  “You’re doing a good thing,” Molly said, recalling how she pitched a tent upon the plains in the middle of winter when taking part in Princess Rosalind’s rescue. “I could have used an inn like the Twelve Horses five years ago when I passed through this area.”

  Henry Droon curiously raised an eyebrow. “You were here?”

  “It’s a long story,” Christopher said.

  “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll give you the details some day,” Ulric promised. “But in the meantime, what brings you to our table? Your daughter Ella said you had been expecting me to show up.”

  Henry leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I don’t like to discuss personal affairs in public, but I was given a note a few hours ago and was asked to deliver it to you, Ulric, the next time you showed up. Only I didn’t expect it would be this soon.”