“That’s ridiculous,” Toda said.
Malladar noted Toda’s tone that reflected fear more than disbelief.
“I saw him change or his shadow changing on the hut’s wall.”
They walked back to their protected spot and curled up under blankets for the night.
“Malladar, do you think he was right about The Eye having supernatural powers and a will of its own?”
“I think that might be the case. There’ve been too many unexplained encounters happening to us on this mission. Why were we able to get it when others were not? That creature deliberately attacked us as if something willed it to. The man’s change of heart about saving us all point to more going on here than just our wills.”
Toda cringed and pulled his blanket tighter around him. “You might have just said no so I could have gotten some sleep tonight.”
Malladar grinned to himself, rolled over, and went to sleep. Both failed to notice two pairs of large, red-veined eyes staring down at them from a ledge atop the outcrop at their backs.
32: Eva & Tigmoor’s Palace
In King Agmar’s royal palace atop the pyramid overlooking the plaza, Eva stood on the balcony of her suite looking north towards Octar. Miserable and homesick, she thought back on both Ickletor and Nokmay’s warnings that this was her last chance to have a good life.
I wanted love, she thought. All I have now is slavery and a precarious life subject to the whims of a king twice my age.
A maid knocked and entered the room with a gown for the evening. Eva stepped back inside and looked at the evening outfit laid across her bed. Instantly she spotted the faint tonal difference where the maid had tried to clean a stain. Another hand-me-down, she thought. She bit her lip and sat at her dresser without speaking so the maid could brush her hair. When the servant left, she shoved the gown on the floor and lay on the bed.
I was such a fool, she thought. My lust has ruined my life. How could I have been so brash with the Korkufin prince amid the most public feast of the year? Now I’m just a tool used in the struggle between Ickletor and Agmar. I suppose Nokmay was right. I’d better make the most of this last opportunity and win over the king.
She dressed and sashayed down the hall to find King Agmar and begin his seduction. Reluctantly, servants directed her to his private study. She knocked and entered without waiting for permission to do so.
“Majesty, I hope you will forgive my disturbance, but I wanted to thank you again for accepting me into your household.” Her gracious bow exposed her right side to the best advantage, having noted the lighting as she went in.”
Agmar didn’t get up from his desk. “Let us understand each other, Eva, we both know your father sent you here disgraced to spy on me. I will tolerate your presence at court for political reasons, but you need not work your charms on me. I know you’d put a dagger in my chest as soon as the opportunity should arise once it worked to Ickletor’s benefit.”
The bluntness shocked Eva, and for a moment, she was speechless. “Your Majesty, I assure you I’m not here to spy on you. I’d hope to be a peace offering to sooth the animosity between Octar and Tigmoor. You wound me with such a groundless accusation.”
She fanned herself, knowing her embarrassment had made her blush. She only hoped the king would take her at her word that the blush was humiliation and pain, not the rage that sourced it. She dabbed her eye as if there was a tear there hoping he would see.
He will never see me cry, she thought. I must ally with this old man now or never.
“Majesty, Ickletor has cast me out and abandoned me. I throw myself on your mercy. I am here but to serve your every need for showing me kindness in taking me in.” She dabbed her eyes again, shaking her hair to make a few strands veil her eyes.
Agmar rose and came around the desk. “There now, compose yourself. You will retain your place at court unless you disgrace yourself again with one of the young men here.”
Eva wanted to scratch his eyes out. “I shall devote my life to your service and none other, my lord, Agmar if I may call you Agmar.”
The king smiled and looked at her for the first time as if he was searching for something. Perhaps he wasn’t so sure of his preconceived notion of her. “You may call me Agmar but only in private. Address me as Majesty in the presence of others. Now run along. I’ve work to do here.”
“Forgive me, Agmar, but I could sit quietly there in the corner and run errands for you as needed.”
Agmar took her arm and ushered her to the door. “I have a brace of assistants at my beck and call to do such menial tasks. I shall see you at dinner.”
As the door closed behind her, Eva began to think of ways to make herself indispensable to the king.
33:
A_Chat_with_Death
Coming out of the forest into her cave’s clearing, Nokmay called for Rasa. When her slave came out, the witch handed her a rabbit she’d retrieved from a snare she’d set at the edge of the forest.
“Stew for dinner,” Nokmay said and tossed the cottontail at Rasa’s feet, “for the stew.”
When Rasa was out of sight down by a stream to clean the rabbit, Nokmay stretched, feeling a moment of peace having placed Eva in a secure environment with a possible future.
A sudden tremor from deep in the earth shook her surroundings. She lost her balance and fell to the ground. The bones of the huge, ancient beast shook, and a rib broke loose crashing down beside her. Cracks tore the earth around her. A yellow vapor seeped from the fissures thick with the stench of sulfur mixed with that of decaying flesh. The witch froze.
“What do you want now?” Nokmay said in the eerie silence that followed.
“You know what I want!” a rippling transparency said before her.
Nokmay rose and brushed the dust from her rags. “Are there not enough corpses around Octar to feed your spawn?”
“For the moment, yes, but you’ve not delivered on your promise to deliver more,” Tingtwang said.
Nokmay stood tall, her chest out, “Leave me, seek your flesh elsewhere!”
“I have flesh for my children, but your beloved has balked at an alliance with me for shall we say… more carcasses.”
The witch stiffened; her eyes pierced the rippling, translucent apparition. “If you are a god, make your agreements with the High Priest of Yingnak at Octar.”
“Oh but you have influence with your beloved Ickletor. He frightened himself with a simple spell and now fears the Book of the Underworld. You must go to him and reassure him it is his destiny to take control of the world with that knowledge at his fingertips.”
Rasa suddenly burst into the clearing with the rabbit dangling from her hand. She sniffed the air. Her eyes widened when she saw Nokmay talking to no one there. Rasa froze when she noticed the dark ripples. Nokmay glared at her with enormous red eyes! She dropped the rabbit and fled back into the forest.
“Go to Octar and sooth your lover. Tell him it’s his destiny to become king and rule the world. The Book of the Underworld is his means to secure the throne and unlimited power!”
“This is madness, “the witch said, “Ickletor isn’t my lover. He won’t listen to me.”
“Oh, but he will. He’s had a taste of power beyond his imagining.” A vile laugh reverberated in Nokmay’s head. “He lusts for power witch. Your reassurances will give him the gentle nudge to take up the book and experiment further. His thirst for supremacy will easily override his fear of that very power.”
Nokmay crossed her arms in front of her, “I’ll have no involvement more with that book. He has no idea what it can do. He’s intrigued by his new toy. He could unleash things that no one could restrain.”
Again the ground trembled and fire shot from a nearby crack licking at the greasy rags covering the witch. The acrid smell of burning tissue and a searing pain gripped Nokmay. She smacked out the flames on her skirt.
“Return to Octar and grant him the reassurance only you, the most powerful of witches can bestow. He
will believe you. He thirsts for such reassurance. The lure of his greed will spur him to take up the book again and taste its bitter-sweet potential if you but bolster his desire and convince him he is the man to control its potential.”
Rasa burst from the bushes rushing to throw water on the flames. An unseen power slapped her to the ground.
“Enough!” Nokmay said. “We’ll go to Octar.”
Flames evaporated as the earth settled and the cracks closed. Rasa hesitated then cautiously stood and crept to Nokmay. “What happened?”
Nomay sneered and shook her head, turning away and shuffling back into the cave rubbing her shoulder. Rasa followed.
“Where’s dinner? Get the pot on the fire, or it won’t be done before breakfast, woman!”
Rasa dashed out and retrieved the rabbit. She rushed back to the stream to wash it off and returned, cutting it into pieces and chucking it into the stew pot. She cut vegetables and roots with care so as not to make noises breaking Nokmay’s concentration.
The witch watched from the corner of her eye. At least that stopped her incessant chatter, she thought.
34: Suspicion Falls on Malladar
Ickletor paced his room deep under Yingnak’s temple mound. He kept glancing at his hiding place where the Book of the Underworld seemed to call to him. His resistance faded as he moved uncontrollably toward the niche. A sudden tapping on the door snatched his attention back.
“Go away!”
“Pardon the disturbance, Master,” Sestec said from the other side of the closed door, “but the people, they’re clamoring for you to appear and reassure them the rains will come soon. They are getting more restless and angry every day.”
Ickletor glanced at the hiding place as if to apologize for the delay and went to dress in his magnificent feathered attire.
I must be more impressive than ever to retain their respect and restrain their fears, he thought. I can’t put off the people much longer. Soon their anger and frustration will overcome their fear of the god and me. Their attacks on the outlying estates of the nobles will turn to the rulers here in the city.
“Perhaps you should bring out the god Yingnak to show him to the people? That might reassure them.” Sestec said.
Ickletor turned in horror at the suggestion. Just imagine that skull falling off the stone body when moved, he thought and winced.
“Absolutely not! I will not subject Yingnak to the lowly demands of those peasants! His anger would know no bounds at such a humiliation.”
Sestec bowed and withdrew.
The high priest, dazzling in his feathered finery went out on the platform in front of the temple to look out across the undulating throng infesting the plaza. His initial silence was calculated to induce fear and suppress the simmering frustration.
“Again you accost your god, Yingnak! His delay in bringing rain is due to your lack of confidence in his benevolence! The rains will come! Now disburse and go to your homes or must I call upon the temple guards to drive you away before you disturb Yingnak?”
Ickletor could feel the tension rising from the plaza.
The people lingered even longer than usual. One brave soul snarled; his eyes remained fixed on the high priest. He put one foot on the first step of the temple pyramid with his pitchfork in hand. Those near him gasped! Someone behind him grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He shook his head and turned away. The crowd mumbled as they drifted away from the plaza.
Malladar and Toda had better return soon with that magic crystal, or there’ll be no stopping those peasants, Ickletor thought. He turned back into the temple mound. Without rain there can’t be more than weeks at most before we lose control of the mob.
He glanced back and noted Princess Kayla watching the proceedings from the palace atop the royal mound across the plaza.
I must make preparations for a royal sacrifice should the people get out of control. They will demand a major sacrifice indeed, and it won’t be me. If it comes to a revolt, King Jornak will be the sacrifice. Then too, I must secure Kayla before Malladar returns, or I’ll lose her as well.
Still in his finery, Ickletor crossed the plaza to speak with Jornak. The king was leaving the throne room when Ickletor entered and followed him out.
“Majesty, may I speak with you privately?”
Monarch and high priest retired to a private audience room.
“I’ve not seen you of late, Ickletor,” Jornak said. “What troubles you other than the lack of Yingnak’s response to your pleas for rain?”
Ickletor bowed slightly. He noted the veiled warning that he might have lost favor with the god.
“It was just that I came to speak with you about. I sent Malladar on a mission some time back and thought he would’ve returned by now. I’ve grown suspicious he might have fled Octar and returned to Tigmoor without your majesty’s permission. If he doesn’t return soon, as king, you must declare him failed as the hostage and put a price on his head.”
Jornak studied Ickletor for a moment as he considered the suggestion.
“Why did you send him on such a mission? What was the mission, Ickletor? You never consulted me before sending him away.”
The high priest now bowed low ingratiating himself before the king hoping to glaze over the slight to the king’s position.
“A thousand pardons, my king. I didn’t mean any affront to the throne. I thought the mission insignificant, not worthy of your majesty’s attention.”
“And what was this mission, Ickletor?” Jornak asked, staring at the priest.
“It’s merely to retrieve a small gemstone to appease Yingnak.” The fawning smile the priest displayed was devoid of sincerity.
King Jornak waved away Ickletor turning from him. “I shall consider declaring the prince’s life forfeit for breaking the terms of Tigmoor’s hostage agreement if he’s fled. I shall send an emissary to King Agmar to demand his return.”
*
As Ickletor left the chamber, Princess Kayla slipped in and approached her father deep in thought.
“Father, you don't intend to declare Malladar’s life forfeit, are you? He wouldn’t violate the terms of the hostage agreement putting Tigmoor in jeopardy!”
“The prince wasn’t supposed to leave the confines of the city’s limits, Kayla. Even though Ickletor sent the boy on a mission, we assumed he would return before his mission turned into flight.”
“He will return soon, Father, I’m sure of it.”
“He’d better,” Jornak said and looked to the door. “With the peoples’ increasing anger and frustration, that priest will demand a sacrifice soon. Now, Malladar seems to be his prime target.”
*
On returning to his office in the temple pyramid, Ickletor again sensed the lure of Book of the Underworld as he set aside his splendid feathered headdress and cape. Growing curiosity overpowered his fear. He succumbed to the temptation and checking to be sure he was unobserved, he took it out and wrapped it in fine cloth.
I dare not tamper with it in Octar lest some unexpected result reveal I have this book and possess its power, he thought. I don’t want the temple guards to accompany me to my estate either. I might inadvertently release some power there I might not be able to control. I’ll slip out of the city incognito and hurry to the estate at dusk when I’m least likely to be recognized.
He was nearly at the gate when a woman stumbled on the road ahead of him. Stalled, she was trying to pull a defiant goat on a rope behind her. Ickletor ignored her struggling and attempted to rush around the woman.
“Oh kind sir,” she called out, “could you please help me make this dreadful beast move. I haven’t the strength to tug him any further.”
“I’m in a great hurry, woman. I haven’t time to drag goats.”
The priest turned and kicked at the goat. The animal, in turn, jerked the rope from the woman’s hands. Head down; he charged butting Ickletor in the gut knocking him flat on the road. His precious book slipped from his grasp and slid alo
ng the road. The fabric flew open revealing the Book of the Underworld. Before Ickletor could catch his breath and stand up, the goat kicked up its heels and scampered back into the forest. The woman appeared unconcerned. Ickletor stood up and brushed off his clothes. When he looked back behind him, the woman had picked up the book and opened it. Her eyes blazed ogling the pages.
“What is this book?” she asked, then looked over at Ickletor.
“Put that down! Don’t touch it. It’s very old and valuable.”
Ickletor reached to grab the book. The woman seemed confused, trying to read a passage on a page. But then she looked up at him horrified, eyes almost luminous; her complexion darkening by the second as she mumbled what she could read. Ickletor drew back. The book slipped from her hands as she stood gawking at the priest, mouth agape.
“What have you done?” Ickletor said. He caught the book before it hit the ground and drew back from her. The woman began to shimmer like heat rising from a mirage. She began to glow darkening to deep red then black as charcoal. A bolt of lightning shot down from the clear sky, and she exploded into a shower of cinders with wisps of smoke arising from many pieces. “Fool!” he said.
A cackle of laughter behind him shocked Ickletor. He spun around to see Nokmay standing in the road, doubled over, and laughing with hands on her hips.
“Did you have a part in this, witch?”
Nokmay recovered, stood up straight staring back into Ickletor’s eyes. The laughing-smile evaporated, but her eyes sparkled. “Not me, but I see you’re again playing with things that you don’t understand.”
Ickletor grabbed the cloth and fumbled, trying to wrap the book up. “What do you want, Nokmay, I’m a busy man. I know if you’re here, you’ve come with ill tidings.”
Nokmay ambled up to the priest with a slight smile. “Is that any way to welcome a traveler who’s traveled so far to warn you? I guess I’m lucky seeing as how you treated that poor woman.”
The Grim Conspiracy Page 17