The Grim Conspiracy

by C. Craig Coleman

  Stunned silence had spanned the gruesome scene’s progression. A hum of fearful mumbling replaced the fading scream as the men turned to each other for support.

  One of the older nobles, richly attired to reflect his status moved up beside the litter. Dark circles around his shadowy eyes seemed to Eva to cloak some intent.

  “I shall carry the king to safety,” the man said.

  Eva stood shoulders back and fanning her torso as if to display authority she didn’t have. “No, Womak and I will slide the king over the log.”

  The man stood tall as his hand gripped his sword. Womak scrambled back across the log, seemingly aware of the confrontation. Eva realized at great personal risk; he was offering his support to her.

  Another noble spoke up, “Let them take the king across, Lord Mensor. If the king falls, it is they that will pay the price.”

  Mensor backed away. A fiendish grin sprouted. “So be it.” He stepped out of the way.

  Several men advanced and lifted the litter up onto the log. Others cut and tied sapling pieces down along the sides to hold the litter in the center of the log. All stepped back as Eva got up at one end of the litter as Womak took position at the farther end. They slid the litter a bit along the tree. Foot by foot, they shuffled the king over the crevasse to just before the other side. Eva looked around Womak who was sliding backward pulling the litter.

  “Stop!” Eva said. Womak froze. “Don’t move!”

  “What is it?”

  “A big fer-da-lance has coiled just behind you where the branches grow out of the trunk.” Eva saw sweat bead up and begin to stream down Womak’s face.

  “What should I do?”

  Eva turned her head slightly, “Can any of you men hit anything with the bow and arrows?”

  There was silence for a moment before the lower ranking noble took the bow from the man beside him and stepped forward.

  “I can.”

  “Can you see the snake behind Womak?” Eva asked.

  The noble stepped sideways to see around Womak. “Yes, I see it.”

  Without waiting for further instructions, the man set arrow to bowstring and aimed. Womak scrunched his face mashing his eyes shut as if that could stop an arrow. Eva held her breath then heard the bowstring’s twang, a thud, and finally thrashing, something whipping against the tree. The sound stopped, and she looked. Pinned to the tree in two places by the arrow, the snake tore itself off at one point, and thrashing about, dislodged the arrow. Arrow and snake flew off the tree and down out of sight into the fissure.

  “It’s okay, Womak, you can keep going now,” Eva said. She glanced back over her shoulder, “Nice shooting, my lord.”

  With Eva pushing, Womak was able to pull the litter up to the beginning of the tree branches that had grown out of the log well over the land on the fissure’s far side. As Womak removed the side supports, Eva was able to get off the log as well. They shifted the litter perpendicular to the tree and away from the crevasse.

  The other men began to mount the tree trunk and shuffle over to the other side. Several lifted the litter down from the log. There seemed to be gayety at the success except for the old, dark-eyed noble who stood back from the others in the shadows.

  The hunting party began making their way back to Tigmoor. Out of danger, the nobles then shoved and pushed to see who would help carry the litter. Eva followed the king’s conveyance yet felt uncomfortable. Alone, Lord Mensor followed behind her.

  The party came to an abrupt halt when the city came into view. The walls had toppled into rubble here and there. Stones and bricks had fanned out and lay scattered before the gaping wounds. Flames and black smoke licked the skyline from beyond where they could see inside the city.

  Eva realized Agmar was not alone in his exposed and vulnerable state. She knew her life, too, depended on the life and protection of the king. She looked down at him and saw a drop of blood fall from beneath his bandaged brow.

  37: Nokmay the Messenger

  Nokmay sat on the terrace of Ickletor’s country estate, watching the high priest feed mealworms to his now plump iguana. She wanted to scream, listening to his prattle. The relentless sun was alien to her; she preferred darkness.

  “Oh for the sake of Yingnak, will you stop babbling about useless matters,” she said. “Stop evading what you know I came to discuss with you. Ickletor, you’ve dared to play with The Book of the Underworld! You’ve hidden it from the people of Octar, but you must know I’ve seen what you’ve been up to in my visions. That violent rainstorm over just your fields caught everyone’s attention. You are playing a dangerous game.”

  Ickletor shut up at once. His posture stiffened, eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So, you know. So be it. It’s time I used that powerful resource. Yingnak won’t send the rains. I must do what I must do and utilize those assets at my disposal to save myself and Octar.”

  Nokmay leaned forward staring him in the face, “You don’t know the power you play with, Ickletor. It can as easily destroy you as come to your aid. Be careful what you activate and release.”

  The priest stood and walked about on the terrace, thinking. His thoughts were interrupted by a vulture landing on the gate. He turned back to the witch.

  “I admit this book is indeed dangerous; immense power always is. I saw that with the storm. I’ve feared using it since. It comes with no instructions as to use or suggestions as to what can result.” He stood straight, his head back. “But now tensions are reaching a boiling point in Octar. I can see the people have lost confidence in the court and Yingnak. I must do something and soon before there is a general revolt and the people topple their rulers destroying this city. At the slightest sign of such weakness, King Agmar would bring war here and finish off what’s left of the people.”

  Nokmay raised her head at a slight angle, eyeing the priest. “I suppose the risk is now worth it then. Doom will come upon this land no matter the scenario it seems.”

  He’s committed to this I see, she decided. I must assist him or lose any influence and control of this whole situation. Now it’s a matter of who makes war on whom, war is inevitable.

  “Will you help me?” Ickletor asked, returning to his seat and leaning forward towards Nokmay as if to plead for assistance. “Can you read the pages and tell what the different spells do? Your help could prevent a disaster.”

  The sinister half-smile of a co-conspirator spread across her face. “Get the book, and we shall see.”

  Ickletor stood, “Let’s go inside where we can look into the tome without prying eyes watching.”

  They went to his study. The iguana scooted in past his leg as he closed the door.

  Nokmay sneered at the reptile that scampered up on the table beside the book.

  “Your pet is quite attached to you, isn’t he?”

  “Indeed, he is.” Ickletor smiled the smile of a proud father then shooed the creature off the table. He opened the book to the table of contents and watched Nokmay.

  The witch stepped closer. Her long, sinewy finger made even longer by the stained and hooked nail slid down the items on the page.

  “See anything that stands out for you, Nokmay?”

  Ignoring the question, she turned the page and continued to read each spell name line. Halfway down the sheet, she stopped at an item and smiled at Ickletor.

  “Let’s see what this little spell can do. It shouldn’t be too dramatic, but it will give us an idea of the potential.”

  Ickletor nodded agreement without even looking to see what the item was. He failed to ask what it was supposed to do.

  Nokmay mouthed the words of the spell but dared not speak them just yet. Ickletor watched and began fidgeting.

  “Well, what does it do?”

  She thought about what Tingtwang had said to her mind and the sense of exhilaration she felt at the time. So this is what the book is all about, the control of energies and associated emotions. Those people learned to draw on the powe
r the very earth generates. There’s a hint they tapped cosmic energy concentrated in those black rocks that fall from the sky. Some push away or pull to each other sometimes. This civilization harnessed that energy, concentrated it somehow, and learned to direct its use.

  “Nokmay! What is it?”

  “Energy, those people, or whoever they were, harnessed energy we can’t even comprehend. They used it to control things, and I think even people, their minds. They could activate and amplify emotions.” Still trying to grasp the concept, she looked at Ickletor who stood mouth agape.

  “They controlled a subject people through their minds and emotions.”

  Ickletor sat down. “That could be dangerous, indeed, controlling passions and intensifying them. It could spin a whole society to extremes if it got out of control.”

  Nokmay closed the book with caution as if fearing to upset it. “I’m not certain, but it appears the more complicated incantations required the medium of a stone they refer to as The Eye of Dindak.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of the stone. I’ve seen the name mentioned in the book in several places though I couldn’t tell much else.”

  Nokmay’s head jerked, staring at the priest, “Did you have it, use it when you conjured that storm?”

  “No, I don’t possess The Eye of Dindak. Perhaps that’s why the storm only affected me directly, my estate, the spells must require The Eye stone for the gods’ amplification.”

  Nokmay thought of possibilities racing through her mind. “Wonder if there is a spell in the book that with The Eye could increase the growth of crops? With unlimited crop yields, one could conquer the lands even beyond the mountains.”

  The iguana’s long claws flipped up over the table edge. It hauled itself up and lay down on the closed book. Ickletor watched it as he thought about possibilities with a new perspective.

  “Growth, yes, unlimited crop yields and animals, too.”

  “Be careful Ickletor,” Nokmay said, noting his tone. “Chickens the size of turkeys and turkeys the size of capybaras would be a boon, but what if you affected the jaguars and caiman as well. Best you don’t toy with such spells.”

  The witch could see the priest hadn’t even heard her so deep was his concentration. Now I see why Tingtwang sent me to encourage this fool to overcome his fear of the book’s power, she thought. I’ve just drawn him into the book embracing its potential. Tingtwang can now approach him directly. Ickletor, having tasted the possibilities, will soon succumb to the god’s lead. Tingtwang will have no reservations about possible consequences. He’ll relish the disasters that ensue. She rose to leave, and the movement got Ickletor’s attention.

  “That spell, Nokmay, what did that spell do?”

  Nokmay’s brows knitted turning to look at the priest, “It gave instructions on making two people angry with each other over nothing then amplified that anger until they would kill one another fighting. The spell is called, ‘The Creation and Amplification of Rage.”

  Ickletor’s eyes lit up, “And that amplified could create all-out wars between kingdoms at will, couldn’t it?”

  The thought was too horrible, even for Nokmay. She nodded but didn’t speak the affirmative. Tingtwang foresaw this conversation, she realized. I’ve been a tool for him to enlighten Ickletor to things he should never have thought possible. He now thirsts for such power.

  She put her hand on the table for support turning to leave. The docile iguana jumped from the book and bit her hand whipping its head as if to tear off flesh. She snatched it free and rubbed the bite marks.

  Ickletor petted the lizard’s head and smiled. “Lucky the iguana only has small teeth. He’s never done that before.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t feed him those mealworms. Keep it on a vegetable diet,” Nokamy said glowering at the creature. “It seems to have developed a taste for meat.”

  Nokmay hurried from Ickletor’s estate fearing he would want to involve her more in unraveling the mysteries of the book. She traveled hidden trails to escape Octarian territory unobserved. Along the way, the stench of death and decay assaulted her nostrils more and more when the path ran close to an estate.

  The peasants are becoming bolder and more daring, she thought. Ickletor will grow more desperate as attacks come closer to the city. Perhaps King Jornak has already pulled back his warriors to keep them close and to control of the city. With such a revolt in the face of starvation, who knows how loyal even the troops will be.

  At the site of a fresh slaughter, Nokmay was wary crossing through the carnage.

  I wish I’d taken shelter before it got dark, she thought. Traveling after through the night is a big mistake even in the best of times.

  Something flashed out of the darkness and knocked her sideways off the path and over the edge of a ravine. She tumbled down through the leaves, struck something solid, and rolled back down into a musty, stagnant pool. She started to get up, checking herself for injury when revulsion roiled up. The reek of fouled water rose from the pool.

  Did I hear chittering, she wondered. Tingtwang’s nasty creatures wouldn’t be this far out of the way of the rivers’ sinkholes.

  A sudden chill ran down her spine. She had stepped up out of the water and shaken off the muck and then saw a half-eaten man’s corpse. She’d bumped into it. That was what stopped her tumble down the hillside. A sudden sense of dread was overwhelming. Looking down back behind her, the bit of moonlight that silvered the pool was shimmering, the water bubbled, and though she couldn’t see it in the dark, she smelled the sulfur. She stiffened and stood up straight.

  “So you used me to fire Ickletor up and overcome his fear of the book. Now he’ll embrace you for assistance since I won’t translate it for him.”

  She felt the prickly caress of the unseen black vapor. She heard the laughter in her head.

  “Both of you are children playing with catastrophes you can’t imagine, not even you, Nokmay. Ickletor is a fool, but you should know enough not to play with fire.” Again there was laughter in her head.

  “What do you want, Tingtwang? You want more than bodies for those foul things you spawned.”

  The laughter stopped. “I want what my foul children have; I want being!”

  The prickly sensation left the witch replaced by a chill. She stepped up out of the depression and climbed back up the hillside to the path. She hurried on past the bodies until the sun’s rays warmed her and dispelled her fear.

  What does that mean? She wondered, ‘I want being.’ I fear the answer more than the war those two would bring about.

  38: Ready Set…

  Malladar and Toda were walking along the road back to Octar in silence when the prince stumbled on an exposed tree root. He fell forward into the leaves, and the golden pendant flew from his grasp, landing face up. Toda gave him a hand up and brushed leaves from his tunic. The prince looked down at a spot of sunlight. The dragon seemed to stare up at him. Toda reached to pick it up, and a spark flashed burning his fingertips. He jumped back and gaped at it.

  Malladar hesitated then reached and picked up the piece without incident. “What was that?”

  Toda glared at his finger; his face scrunched, “It burned me. It seems I’m not to touch it. That’s not surprising considering what we went through to get it. You’d think it would be more grateful.”

  Malladar gazed at it, “I’ve been rubbing it with my thumb as we walked like a good luck charm, I guess.” He turned to the priest, “Why do you suppose it favors me and wouldn’t allow you to touch it?”

  “It’s probably some evil a sorcerer or witch made. Maybe you should bury it again.”

  “No, Bobo went to great pains to lead us to it. We are, or I’m supposed to have it, but why?”

  Toda looked around. “Where are Bobo and his bride? Come to think of it I don’t remember seeing them since Bobo led us to that bewitched clearing.”

  Malladar grinned; I think the honeymoon is over. Jaguars don’t really marry; they like just have the honeymoon
.” He started laughing and then cleared his throat. “I think the bride returned to her home territory to raise her kittens.”

  “Kittens! They have KITTENS? They eat people, my lord. Surely you don’t call their babies kittens.”

  “Yes, well, diet aside, the young are still called kittens, Toda. You don’t get out of the temple much, do you?” The laughing resumed.

  A sudden clap of thunder ahead startled the men. Two very tall, slender beings unlike anything they had ever seen materialized before them. The men stood frozen in their tracks too scared to even speak.

  The lead stranger took one step forward and folded Malladar’s fingers around the orb then faced the prince.

  “You must not return to Octar, Prince Malladar.” The deep rich voice was calm and soothing, but the message was emphatic.

  Malladar mustered his courage, “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

  “We are the Abkor, the guardians; you were never supposed to know of us. Your memory of this meeting will fade, but you will understand the orb’s warning not to return to Octar with The Eye of Dindak.”

  “We must not interfere,” the second stranger said to Nain, the lead being.”

  The leader nodded as the two began to fade away.

  After a moment, the prince cocked a half-smile and glanced back at Toda who stood wide-eyed and trembling. When he looked forward again, the strangers were gone. At first Malladar wondered if they had actually been there.

  “Did I just see two ten-foot-tall men standing there?”

  Toda nodded his head.

  “What could that have been about?”

  Toda’s gaze remained fixed on where the strangers had stood. “What?”