The Grim Conspiracy

by C. Craig Coleman

  “What’chu you mean what? The warning, the demand I don’t return to Octar with The Eye of Dindak.”

  Toda’s head spun to Malladar, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I heard nothing. Did they speak to you? No offense, but you got some strange friends, my lord.”

  Unexplained drowsiness came over them, and both fell to the ground asleep. Malladar woke up with the orb hot in his hand. He shook Toda who yawned, stretched, and grumbled then rose at the speed of a sloth.

  “Why are we sleeping in the road?” Toda asked, scratching his head.

  “I don’t know. I remember we were talking about Bobo, and then I woke up.”

  Malladar looked at the pendant that was cooling a bit. “Something else that’s unexplained having to do with this thing.”

  “You should sell it in the next village. It’s solid gold and should get us some real food and maybe a night in a bed.”

  “No, I’m supposed to have it. I need to find out why.”

  “Let’s keep going. I want to get home,” Toda said. “He shuffled his pack to be more comfortable. “Some magician must have made it and used that enchanted clearing as his hiding place. I say we get rid of it. We’re having enough trouble getting The Eye of Dindak back to Octar.” He took the lead moving off.

  Malladar caught up, “That’s something else that’s bizarre. I get a strong sensation we’re not supposed to take The Eye back to Octar.”

  “What brought that on?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ve felt it since we woke up.”

  “Yeah, well, I got a strong feeling I’m heading back to Octar,” Toda said.

  “Toda, Ickletor told you to look out for me at all cost.”

  Toda shook his head, “You would bring that up. My mother asked me once when a childhood friend and I got into trouble if he jumped into a fire would I jump in too.”

  “And how did you answer her?”

  “Friends do stuff with friends, I said.”

  Malladar laughed, “And what did she say to that?”

  “Her patience ended; she whipped the tar out of my butt.”

  Malladar couldn’t help but grin, “So does that mean you’ll go where I go?”

  Toda stopped and frowned at Malladar, “So does that make us friends?”

  “Possibly.”

  Toda grinned and started up the road again. “Well then, I supposed I’ll have to go into the fire once more. Might as well, Ickletor will beat me senseless if I let anything happen to you. I’m not going to live through this ‘mission.’ I can see that.”

  They walked on until late in the afternoon, then stopped to rest. Toda got water from a nearby stream and was making an herbal tea to refresh them. Malladar sat against a tree rubbing his thumb over the orb.

  “This scene looks so fierce, the dragon, so angry. Something terrible must have happened for someone to strike such an intricate metal. I suspect it relates to what happened to the people or beings that made this long ago.”

  Toda handed the prince a mug of the tea and then sat back on a log savoring his drink. “I suppose that’s as good an explanation as any. The way it was guarded, I hope it isn’t a prediction of the future.”

  Toda chuckled before looking at Malladar who stared hard at him.

  “What do you suppose that sky-rock would have to do with a dragon?” Malladar asked. “We’ve never seen a dragon, not in our time. None have come down as real in the stories old men tell. Well, I suppose people do tell such tales to make kids go to bed, but I’ve never heard anyone say they’ve seen a dragon.”

  “Dragons must’ve all died out long ago if they ever existed in the first place.”

  Malladar stood and walked around glancing back at the pendant over and over. “What if the dragon isn’t real? What if it represents something terrible?”

  “With that look, yeah, something terrible for sure. I keep telling you not to mess with it.”

  Malladar looked up. “What if it’s not about something that happened in the past? What if it’s a warning about something that could happen in the future, a prediction like you said?”

  Toda looked up, “You’re giving me the creeps. Finish your tea, and let’s keep going.”

  They walked on for a while, Malladar thinking. Toda said nothing probably not wanting to know his thoughts. When the sun sank beyond the forest canopy, they slowed down and approached a sizable sinkhole where they decided to camp for the night.

  Toda made the camp while Malladar went to draw water for a stew. He squatted down to fill the pot, and the pendant he’d hung on a string slipped out of his tunic and hung down. He was about to put it back in his shirt when the sun coming through the trees struck it. The dragon’s eyes seemed to suck in the rays. A sudden explosion of light radiated from the crystal in the dragon’s mouth. The brilliance looked as if it set fire where the red light struck the leaf litter. The prince fell backward; the medallion swung back against his chest. The sun’s rays no longer struck it, and the light flashing from the pendant ceased.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Toda asked when Malladar, seemingly dazed, wandered back to the fire without any water.

  “You won’t believe what just happened.”

  Toda frowned looking at the empty cooking pot. “Looks like something to get you out of cooking dinner.”

  Malladar ignored the comment and took the orb out from his tunic. “The sun’s rays coming through the forest hit directly on the dragon. It shot out intense beams that gave the illusion of setting fire to the leaves in front of me. It’s a warning. The Eye of Dindak will bring destruction if an evil person gets hold of it. I’m not taking The Eye of Dindak back to Octar. Ickletor is devious; we both know that. He’s not meant to get it.”

  Shaking his head, Toda came and took the cooking pot heading back to the sinkhole for water. “’Serve his every need, Ickletor said,’” he mumbled.

  Malladar followed and catching up with Toda, snatched the cooking pot. He plunged it into the water filling it and jerked it back out. Then he turned to the priest, “Look there, see those burned spots?”

  “Great story,” Toda said politely taking the cooking pot and returning to the fire with Malladar following.

  “Toda, I know we committed to bringing the sky-rock to the high priest, but I have a terrible feeling we must not do it. That rock in the wrong hands will be a disaster. I think Ickletor is the wrong hands.”

  No sooner had Malladar spoken than a black vapor wafted up from the cooking pot as Toda was about to cut vegetables into it. He jumped back. With no breeze, the vapor drifted then swept over a huge rock they were camping by. A moment later, a dark-complexioned man walked around the boulder staying in its shadow. He was heavily muscled but very old and carried a walking stick with an onyx shard on the top.

  “You are too fearful, Lord Prince,” the old man said, stepping closer to the fire only as far as the shadow moved. “If you made a promise to the high priest, you must adhere to your commitment. A prince must honor his word. Surely you know the heir to a throne must set the example for his people.” The stranger began rubbing his hands by the fire, then looked up. “And you are most visible to the people of Octar as well, are you not?”

  “Yes, of course. Who are you, and where did you come from?” Malladar asked. “How do you know about me?”

  The old man looked into the fire sprouting a sardonic smile. A moment of silence and he stood facing the prince. “Who am I? I’m of no consequence as is how I came to be here. I just overheard your conversation. I think you must honor your obligation. Don’t let that trinket frighten you out of your responsibility to the priest. Perhaps it was a test of your loyalty.”

  Toda stood, “What trinket?” He turned to the prince, “What’s he talking about?”

  Malladar looked into the old man’s eyes all of a sudden brilliant as fire. It was the same fire that had shot from the crystal in the dragon’s mouth. He reached in his tunic, pulling out the ornament. Sparks splashed fr
om it. Startled, the old man began running from the camp heading for the sinkhole.

  “What was that about?” Toda asked.

  “That was someone or something challenging this warning. That’s all the more reason not to take the sky-rock to Ickletor.”

  “We must take The Eye of Dindak to the high priest, Malladar. We’d be fugitives and hunted forever should we fail to do so. He’d have us declared thieves and outlaws. He’d make other crazy accusations to discredit us throughout Octar. You couldn’t return to there for sure. With such a reputation, you’d not be welcome back in Tigmoor either. You can’t help anyone trying to withhold the stone. Better to take it to the Ickletor and then counter any mischief he’d do with it.”

  Malladar looked again at the pendant. “We’re trapped in this mission, aren’t we Toda? There is no good alternative. It seems the future is unavoidable.”

  “Yes.”

  “If my interpretation of this pendant’s message is correct, we are the agents of doom!” Malladar said, staring at the dragon.

  39: Tumbling Tigmoor

  Tigmoor suffered damage from the earthquake. The great stone walls had only minor damage visible from where King Agmar’s hunting party approached the city. Smoke and the unmistakable smell of blood and viscera wafted over the group as they carried the king towards the main gate. As they approached, a stone block toppled by the side of the gate when another aftershock jiggled the landscape. The gatehouse held, and the way remained open. People panicked and dashed away from the buildings many out through the gate to the fields beyond.

  Eva dared not look around her but watched Lord Mensor’s agitation grow the closer they got to the entrance.

  As the party passed through the gate, Lord Mensor let go of the litter and rushed ahead. The king jostled as the litter tilted before another bearer dashed up and took the corner in hand.

  “What is he doing?” Eva said before noting the jittery eyes of the men beside her.

  Ahead, Mensor began waving his hands and shouting, “The king, King Agmar is wounded! Make way! I’ve managed to bring the king home alive, but he’s sustained a most grievous injury. I must see him to the palace without delay. Make way!”

  The scurrying people all about began moving away from the course to the palace. They bow not to the king but to Mensor, Eva noted. The nobles bore the king to the royal pyramid before seeing parts of the palace had crumbled. They mumbled to each other, bearing the litter up the steps.

  Eva saw Mensor look back at the great temple at the opposite end of the plaza. There was no visible damage to the temple. The grandee again started up the mound to the palace, got halfway up, and turned to the people on the plaza. He began waving his arms again.

  “Behold, people of Tigmoor! The king may be mortally wounded, and the palace is in ruins. And yet the great temple is unaffected. The king has made great offense to the gods and they, in turn, have punished our city.”

  People began to stop and look up at the resplendent noble. Eva felt her stomach turn.

  The fool is playing on this disaster for his benefit, she thought. I fear I shall be the sacrifice he seeks.

  Mensor scanned the plaza and stood silent a moment to let the crowd digest what he’d said. The agitation grew. Again he waved his arms to silence the mumbling.

  “Long has the king allowed foreigners to enter Tigmoor’s lands and secure our wealth for their own. This has displeased the gods!” His head moved down scanning along the steps. The expression look turned to glare when he settled on Eva.

  “Most recently Agmar has brought this woman into Tigmoor and even into the very royal palace where she might have sway over his decisions about your welfare. Are not the gods angry that this daughter of Octar’s high priest should live and influence our king?” Mensor looked first to the unconscious king on the litter and then turned, pointing to the palace above him, “See the punishment the gods have inflicted on the king and his palace defiled by this foreign woman! King Agmar should have sent her away when the Witch of Nokmoor Forest, lurking there overlooking the city, brought her here in the first place. The king and this vile woman have brought this evil upon our homes and families.”

  Eva stood shocked at such a bold attack on her. He’d never have dared so long as Agmar wielded power, she thought. Not willing to wait to see if the king lives or not, that ambitious aspirant to the throne seeks to use me as his means to seize power. He’d exile Agmar while he is still unable to defend himself.

  The murmur on the plaza grew with the turning heads calling for support from those around them. One or two at first, people began to move towards the pyramid steps. The hunting group around her became agitated looking one to the other as the mob focused and moved towards them.

  I’ve no support here at all now, Eva thought. They will tear me apart, and there’s no place for me to go or hide.

  Fear overwhelmed her for a moment. But then she gathered her strength and faced the fuming people climbing up the steps towards her. She started to speak in her defense.

  Then Womak handed his place on the litter to another and stepped down to stand between Eva and the approaching throng. He waved his raised his arms.

  “People of Tigmoor! This disaster is not of the king, or Lady Eva’s doing. We have suffered this trial so that the gods might test the resolve in our devotion to them and our king. We must support King Agmar and trust in his wisdom. He has led us well since the war with Octar. If the gods had wanted to punish the king and us, they would have killed Agmar outright. Let us wait and see if the king recovers before overturning his decision to allow this woman at his court.”

  Eva glanced back at Mensor, who was red-faced and almost snarling with rage. When she turned back, the people had begun to descend the steps back to the plaza. At once, the bearers began to carry the litter up the steps as fast as they dared. Some of the nobles drifted away silently into the crowd below. As the litter passed Mensor, he sneered but remained silent. As Eva passed by beside the litter, his eyes followed her with murderous intent.

  Palace servants rushed to aid the litter bearers as they approached the palace platform. Hesitant at first, Eva’s servants rushed up and followed those taking hold of the litter. The throng moved Agmar inside and to his bedroom with Eva in close attendance.

  I dare not leave his side for a moment, she thought. There’s no going back now. Mensor has revealed his ambition and will kill Agmar if he gets the chance. My death will follow immediately. I must thank Womak for saving my life out there.

  She looked about, but neither he nor Mensor had entered the palace with the others. Sadness overwhelmed her.

  A lowly servant challenged and blocked a ranking noble’s desperate gamble for power, she thought. Womak isn’t likely to be seen or heard from again. He must have known that when he acted. I can’t do anything to save him while the king is incapacitated. I must get herbs to stop the king’s bleeding.

  She began mopping the king’s brow while pressing a cool compress against the head wound. She turned to an attendant, “Go at once to the shaman and get a list of all the herbs he has on hand. Tell him the king is bleeding and we need the best he has to stop it.” The man looked to Mensor who appeared and nodded. The servant rushed towards the door. “Bring the shaman back with you,” Eva said.

  When the servant returned with the healer, Eva consulted with him on the various herbs seeking the best to stop the hemorrhage. The shaman recommended his preference without looking to Mensor, which relieved Eva. Together the two ground herbs and steeped a tea. Eva administered it hourly not leaving Agmar’s side. She refused even to sleep while Mensor remained alive in the palace.

  Agmar began to regain his color after two days. Eva felt relief but kept her vigil changing his compress and giving him the tea. On the third day, weariness overtook her, but she told two maids to watch her and be sure she didn’t fall asleep. That evening, she nodded off when one maid left the room, and the other nodded off with her.

  A bloodcurdl
ing scream startled her from her rest. Angry, she started to berate the maid when she realized the woman was dead. Her eyes were open with a look of horror on her face.

  “What is it?” Eva said. “What has happened?” She wheeled about in her chair to see the other maid standing in the doorway, staring at the immobile king. “Oh my god!”

  A huge, venomous scorpion, agitated by something, crawled here and there across Agmar’s exposed chest.

  Dear Yingnak, don’t let him awaken now, she thought. She rose and stood over the king while slowly lowering a pot on its side in front of the arachnid. She froze when it flicked its tail twice and glared at her. They faced off immobile.

  Here goes, she thought. She then giggled her other hand behind the creature. It turned facing her hand and stabbing the tail stinger at it. She held her breath as the smallest dab of venom formed a bead on the tip of the stinger poised to strike.

  Watching, the servant gasped and fainted. The thump on the floor panicked the scorpion. It turned and dashed into the pot to hide. Eva upturned the vessel and hurled it through the open window as hard as she could. She heard a groan as the pot smashed outside. Only then did she check the dead maid still slumped in her chair.

  “My lady!”

  Eva looked to the door. A servant helping the recovering maid off the floor fixated on the king. Eva looked down. The king moved ever so slightly and groaned again. His eyes fluttered a moment, and then he looked up at her. He reached up and took the compress from his brow then gave her a puzzled look.

  “We were a hunting party down by the river when an earthquake shook the area,” Eva said and smiled. “You fell and hit your head. We were very worried about you.”

  She wrung out another cloth in cool spring water to place on the king’s brow. When she bent over, she felt weak and began to slump. A maid rushed to her side as she collapsed.

  *

  Eva awakened a full day later. This time, it was King Agmar standing over her.

  “Your Majesty! I’m so sorry. She attempted to get up.