The Grim Conspiracy

by C. Craig Coleman

  “Have mercy, great princess! Your unworthy servant begs mercy!” As she rushed up beside him, he heard her heavy breathing. Then the stick whacked his butt, but not so hard as to bruise him. “Oh, the pain and suffering,” he hollered. His arms flailed as he hopped around rubbing his cheeks. “I may never walk again.” He looked up grinning and winked at her.

  “Hush up, you foolish boy!” Kayla said. Her flushed red tone exposed her embarrassment as she looked around, seeing many people in the plaza staring at them. “I don’t know why father hasn’t sent you back to Tigmoor for all your insolence.”

  Malladar stopped hopping, and his head sank, “I suppose you would be glad to be rid of me. You wouldn’t even miss your poor, devoted servant.” He displayed his most pitiful wincing.

  Kayla stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around his barrel chest. “Poor, pitiful Malladar, nobody loves you, do they?” She patted his back.

  Malladar grinned and looked her in the eye, “I was rather hoping you might.”

  Kayla chuckled, took him by his glistening arm, and turned him towards the palace. “Let’s get out of here before someone reports us to father, and he really does send you away.”

  The two strolled off towards the palace arms around each other’s waists.

  *

  Numa watched their interaction from further back on the plaza at one of the food stalls. She, too, had kept an eye on Malladar as he had grown into a man. Her lustful thoughts were not that of a wife certainly not the wife of the high priest.

  Another had watched the interaction with both lust and envy. Eva, Ickletor’s daughter by the witch Nokmay in his youth, stared at them from the temple mound steps. Only Ickletor, and she knew the witch was her mother.

  Ickletor had been walking in the forest twenty years before and came upon Nokmay who then seduced him. A year later, Ickletor was again walking in the forest when Nokmay appeared once more and left him with his daughter. Eva’s darker skin tone matched her dark personality. She was devoid of character and totally self-serving. This unscrupulous creature was certainly her father’s daughter.

  Both women watched the young lovers seething with envy. They both plotted how to get the young man’s attention and how to remove the princess royal from the competition. Malladar and Kayla scampered up the mound’s steps and disappeared into the palace. Numa was jealous and lusty. Eva was jealous, lusty, and filled with lethal thoughts.

  While neither King Jornak nor Ickletor was aware of the attentions Malladar was attracting, Toda also watched the interplay. He recognized the emotional turmoil brewing before his eyes. He smiled, nodding his head. So many possibilities here, he thought, so many to my advantage if I play the contestants just right. He grinned and turned back into the dark temple.

  7: The Slave Rasa

  Nokmay slashed at giant leaves of the tropical forest through which she was traveling. The trail she took was fairly well-traveled, but the forest reclaimed the paths when given a chance. Elegantly-plumed birds darted overhead. Their rich, diverse calls pierced the canopy augmented by the booming sounds of territorial monkeys and the occasional shrieks of creatures falling prey to the jungle cats.

  She felt her fears diminishing the closer she got to the forested outcrop that enshrouded her cave. When she was about to cross into the gloom of the tangled branches, a sudden movement caught her eye. She ducked down, hoping the person hadn’t seen her. With slow, cautious movements, she peeked out. There was a small woman tied to a tree!

  Probably a nasty trap someone has set for me, Nokmay thought.

  She slipped through the underbrush, scanning the surrounding area, but there was no one else around. She stepped out from the thick brush. With her hands tied tight behind the post, the woman froze seeing the witch. Her eyes darted about in their sockets as she squirmed to free herself.

  Nokmay approached with light footsteps. “Who are you? Why are you tied up here?” She scanned the surroundings, but no one else was visible. “Who else is here?”

  The woman stared for a moment, her chest heaving from fright. Resigned to her fate, her head dropped as her body seemed to deflate. “The people of Tigmoor below fear the witch has cursed their crops. They have sacrificed me to the demon of this forest. You had better run, old woman. The beast will come any time now to eat me.”

  Nokmay cocked her head and chuckled feeling so relieved she wasn’t under attack here, too. She stepped over to the sacrifice and pulled out her ax. The girl gasped, pinched her eyes closed and lowered her head for the blow. She jumped when the ax chopped the post, and her hands sprang free. A moment wringing her rope-burned wrists and she jumped away from the tree trunk. She glanced left and right, “Come quickly, we must run before the demon comes!”

  Nokmay grabbed her shoulder, stopping her, almost jerking her backward. “No, the beast of this thicket doesn’t eat women. The beast will accept the offering of a slave, however.”

  “What?”

  “You’re looking at the beast of this forest. What is your name?”

  The wide-eyed woman began backing up, “Who are you?”

  “My name is Nokmay, the Witch of Tigmoor. I live in these woods, and now you are my slave. You said so yourself. I spared your life.”

  The two women stood staring at each other as dead leaves drifted down between them.

  “Well, you can’t go back down there to those farmers. They will just think you escaped and bring your back. They’ll stake you here again. Next time I won’t be so lenient.”

  “I suppose not,” the woman said. Thinking, she began to rub her wrists again before looking up at Nokmay. “My name is Rasa. I will do your bidding if you protect me.”

  Nokmay glared at Rasa and shook her head. “I believe you said they sacrificed you to this demon. So you are mine. I’ll protect you or not as I choose. Is that understood?”

  The woman’s head drooped, “Yes, Master.”

  “Mistress will do. Now, I’ve had a very trying day. Come with me, and I don’t want to hear a lot of chatter.”

  Nokmay led her new companion through a narrow opening in the gnarled branches that didn’t appear to lead to a path. Eventually, they came upon the clearing before Nokmay’s cave.

  Rasa pulled back a branch and peeked. Her eyes swelled to white globes. She was terrified. “We’re not going in there, are we?”

  Nokmay grabbed her wrist and dragged her forward across the clearing, through the massive, bleached bones, and through the vine-veiled entrance into a cool, musty, darkness.

  8: Eva

  Ickletor stood at a window in his suite within the temple mound watching the sky for rain clouds. His daughter Eva approached unheard until she startled him appearing at his elbow.

  “How did you get in here past Toda? He’s fastidious about screening everyone seeking admittance. Sometimes I feel like he’s my jailer.”

  Eva slipped closer to him, sliding her hand seductively over his shoulder. She knew her sex appeal and flirted with everyone as part of her communications. Ickletor stepped to the side and gave her a questioning look. Eva laughed.

  “You seem so distant of late, Father. What troubles you so? We hardly see you out on the plaza anymore. Surely Yingnak will send rain any day now with your guidance.”

  Ickletor nodded and moved to sit behind his desk, keeping it between them. “It seems Yingnak is still peeved with us and in no rush to send rain.” He scoffed at the thought as if he smelled something unpleasant. Peeved, he twirled an obsidian dagger on his desk.

  Eva stepped to the writing desk with fluid movement. Her finger slid along the edge of the barrier as she moved around to the front and sat down.

  “Maybe Yingnak requires another sacrifice, a more noble sacrifice, someone dear to the people. Princess Kayla would no doubt be a suitable gift for the god.”

  “You are speaking of the king’s daughter and heir to the throne. It’s no secret you covet Prince Malladar. Your lust is clouding your judgment, my child.” He cocked his
head, “Perhaps Prince Malladar would make a more suitable sacrifice.”

  The seductive countenance evaporated from Eva’s face as she stood up, staring at her father. “You can’t mean to sacrifice the prince, surely!”

  Ickletor chuckled at her response. He sat forward-leaning on the desk, ensuring she couldn’t sit in his lap to plead her recommendations. “No, daughter, Prince Malladar is heir to the throne of Tigmoor. To intentionally harm him would instantly bring war between our cities. But you must restrain your passion for the young man. Through Toda, I hear the nobles are beginning to refer to you as a loose woman. I will never find you a husband if you continue to display such wanton behavior.”

  Eva sneered and fidgeted at the thought. “I don’t want a husband. These simpleton men aren’t going to control me. I may go live with mother for a while if things get too testy here.” Watching her father’s response, she moved towards the door and nearly ran into Toda coming in. Glancing at him, she snickered and disappeared through the opening.

  Toda bobbed bowing repeatedly. “So sorry I wasn’t at my post, my lord.”

  Ickletor returned to the window. He flicked his hand as he passed Toda to dismiss the groveling assistant. Without looking back, the high priest heard Toda scramble to get out the door and back to his post, screening those seeking audiences with his master. Ickletor smiled and nodded his head.

  Another humiliation, you’d think that rodent would learn to stay out of my way, he thought.

  *

  Toda snarled looking back at the closed doorway and headed to his niche in the hallway. When he turned around, he ran into Eva standing at his entryway. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the floor. “Forgive me, my lady.”

  “It’s a good idea to look where you are going, funny little man,” Eva said.

  Toda stood, and stooped over, scurried inside to his desk. Once seated, he folded his hands on the top. “How may I serve you, Lady Eva?”

  “One of my maids was shopping in the plaza market this morning. She said she saw what looked like a small delegation from Korkufin heading for King Jornak’s palace. You are a ferret of a man. You always seem to know what’s going on. What do you know of this delegation?”

  The whites of Toda’s eyes swelled as his head moved forward slightly. “I know nothing of this, my lady, but I shall make immediate inquiries and let you know what I find out at once.”

  Eva stepped to the desk, reached across and tickled under the little man’s boney chin with the tips of her fingernails.

  “You do that, Toda, and be quick about it.”

  Toda blushed, jumped back up, and rushed out the door only turning his head for a quick bow before he disappeared.

  *

  Eva frowned at her fingers and wiped her nails on a piece of cloth she found by the door as she left. As she returned to her chamber, she thought on the members of the Korkufin delegation.

  There was one much taller and better muscled than the others, she thought. He certainly appeared regal to me. If he were a prince of the royal house, he would make a fine husband and perhaps provide with me a throne. Should Malladar become unattainable, this new prince might be worth pursuing.

  Another thought darkened her thoughts.

  Kayla, Princess Kayla, I’m just a bastard child the high priest assumed responsibility for. The prince will find only Kayla acceptable for his consort.

  It was her bitter reality shaking her.

  In her chamber later, she was eating nuts and succulent fruits when her servant announced Toda was seeking an audience. The servant curled her lip in condescension doubting he would be received. Eva rose, straightened her tight gown, and smiled.

  “Let’s not keep our little informant waiting. Send him in. Eva stood at her bureau with her back turned to the door. She heard the little man clear his throat to announce his presence behind her, and then she turned.

  “Toda, that was quick, excellent. What have you discovered?”

  A sleazy, conspiratorial grin erupted on his dirty face. Eva imagined his nasty breath and kept her distance.

  “My lady, it is indeed a delegation from Korkufin as you suspected.”

  Eva waited for him to continue, but he just grinned at her. She frowned to discourage his vile thoughts.

  “Well, what have you discovered about the members of that delegation, little man?”

  “The tall, handsome leader is none other than Prince Temkin.”

  “Well did you find out anything about the prince? Is he heir to the throne, a secondary prince, married? Did you find out anything useful about him?”

  I’m going to strangle his scrawny neck if I have to squeeze every tidbit out of him; she thought. Then she remembered to smile to keep him talking.

  Toda protectively hunched his body, “I feared to ask too many questions, my lady. I shall attempt to find out more about him as soon as the opportunity arises.”

  Eva glared at Toda, “As soon as the opportunity arises! Get out of here! Go MAKE the opportunity arise and don’t come back without something more interesting to tell me about him.”

  Toda bowed, turned, and fled out the door.

  Eva mumbled obscenities then called for her maid.

  “Go to the palace and seek some ingredient from the kitchen. You know some of the kitchen staff, don’t you? No doubt they will be in an uproar over the coming feast. Ask about what they are serving for the banquet or some such rubbish. They will chatter on about this delegation. Be slightly curious about the new arrivals but be discrete. They will know everything. Gossip spreads like fire through the household servants. Find out if he is the crown prince or a secondary prince. Inquire if he is married. Come back the instant you find these things out.” The servant bowed and dashed out the door.

  Eva turned to her polished copper mirror, checking her complexion. She dabbed a speck of fragrant oil behind each ear.

  If he’s married, there’s no opportunity, she thought. If he’s crown prince, only Kayla will have a chance at him. But if he is a secondary prince, I may have an opportunity yet. A smile grew on her face as her plot developed in her mind. Then once married, if his older brother should succumb to ill fortune, I may get a throne yet. Accidents happen all the time.

  9: The Road to Octar

  Contemplating the understanding she had with the god of the dead, Nokmay sat on her stick-made stool by her sooty fire.

  I need a source of bodies to feed that filthy black mass of creatures at the bottom of the sinkhole. One here and there wouldn’t suffice. Robbing graveyards won’t work long before someone discovers me. War… war will provide a stream of bodies. No one will notice a few missing here and there.

  Rasa stood motionless in the shadows watching the old witch rocking on her stool. A log tumbled out of the fire, and Rasa rushed to shove it back in the fireplace. Her movement broke Nokmay’s concentration. The witch stood up as Rasa backed away from the hearth again into the shadows.

  “I’m going to Tigmoor. You will remain here, and you’d better be here when I get back.” Nokmay stared at Rasa with such intensity; the slave dropped to her knees nodding multiple times.

  The witch made her way through the forest, out onto the plane, and down to Tigmoor. There she assumed the guise of a buxom young girl, scantily clad. She charmed a young, inexperienced guard to admit her into the palace. She slipped into a side room, changing her appearance again. As a noble lady, she emerged from the room. Her presence would draw less attention from the guards as she lurked near King Agmar’s audience hall. When the king came down the passageway, she slipped up nearby and called to him.

  “Gracious King Agmar! A moment please.”

  Agmar’s face was quizzical as he turned towards the lady. “I have ended the audiences for today. You may come back tomorrow, madam. See the chamberlain at the hall entrance.”

  He turned back and started down the corridor when a spark of blue fire flashed in front of him. He froze as his guards dashed up beside him with spears
pointing at the woman. For a moment, a small wisp of smoke drifting up from the hole burned in the wall was all that moved. Agmar turned again to the woman.

  “What evil brings you to my court, Witch?” Agmar asked.

  As her appearance morphed back into that of the ancient sorceress, Nokmay chuckled. “I wish to speak with you, gracious king… in private.”

  Agmar raised his forearm, and his wide-eyed guards drew back, but the spears still pointed to the old crone. The king walked to the next doorway and stepped into the vacant room.

  “Remain here,” he said to the guards.

  Grinning at the wary men, Nokmay followed behind the king into the room and shut the door.

  “Agmar, you must demand that Octar allow your son Malladar to return home. It’s time he was with you here. He is the crown prince. You have kept the peace these long years and paid reparations to Octar long enough. Your people have suffered a great deal to pay those reparations. You must prove yourself their king and demand an end to these oppressive demands.”

  Agmar looked the witch in the eye and drew back his head, “What do you want, Nokmay? You didn’t just show up here with this demand all of a sudden without there being a reason for your ‘loving concern for my heir and people.’”

  Nokmay sashayed around room gazing at the fine pottery and murals on the walls. “My king, I have no ulterior motive. It troubles me to see the people toiling in their fields day after day and benefiting so little from their labors. I hate to think of Prince Malladar treated as a slave in Octar when he should be visible here assisting you with the duties of the state. His people should see and come to love their prince before his time comes to assume the crown.” She looked up at Agmar, “You aren’t growing younger, my king. Your days are numbered.”