The old lady poured dusky tea into each of the cups and let them steep while she slid a small cake onto each of three little wooden plates. She presented one each to the men and then, stirring only one cup of tea, handed the one stirred to the prince, another to the priest, and took the third for herself. She sat back in her chair, smiled at them, and flicked her hand to indicate eat up.
The men gobbled the sweet cakes, drank their bitter tea, and thanking her, left to continue on their way before camping for the night.
The time had passed faster than either had realized. The sun had set, and darkness was already settling in. They made barely half a mile before settling down for the night. Before midnight, Malladar had a fever and was delirious.
“There was something in that hag’s tea,” Toda said, wiping Malladar’s brow with a damp cloth. “I think I saw her put something in a cup from her pouch.”
The prince was tossing and turning, slinging the compress off his forehead. Between moments of delirium, he responded, “Wish you’d have said something. I thought I saw a dead bug in the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup, but I thought it was just a dead something, a bug that had fallen in it.”
With the sun, Malladar was well enough to stand, but he was exhausted.
“Don’t try to walk on today. We’ll rest,” Toda said.
Malladar wavered. “No, that cave is just back up the road. Let’s go back and see what she put in my tea.”
With Toda’s shoulder to hold on to, Malladar staggered back up the road to the bridge.
“I’ll go up and ask her what was in the tea,” Toda said. “Wait here.”
“No, I’m going with you. That old woman might have done that with malicious intent.”
“Malicious intent… what’s that mean?” Toda said. His head cocked looking at the prince.
Malladar shook his head and tried to walk up the hillside. He took one step, slid back, and slumped, holding onto the bridge. “Okay, see what she’s up to.”
Toda rushed up the hillside to the cave. In an instant, he slid back down the steep incline on a mat of wet leaves. He stopped wide-eyed, facing his prince.
“She not there?”
“Not there? She must be out foraging. With that ankle, I wouldn’t have thought she’d be…
“No, she’s NOT THERE. She’s never been there! Some dusty bones of what looks like a long-dead sloth and dust are all that’s in the cave. The only sign of anyone EVER being there is some moist tea leaves and a dead bug among them.”
Mallard’s head shook taking that in. He winced when he stood but grabbed Toda’s arm.
“We must get back on the road now. Someone knows we’re here and wants to prevent us from getting back to Octar. Stay beside me and let me lean on your shoulder. We must hurry.”
They hobbled on not halting even for lunch.
*
Tingtwant watched the two men in Cete’s visionary pool. The god’s faint, sinister grin gave the witch chills.
“You’ve done well, witch. Your sister Nokmay would be proud of you. The prince will have no more reluctance to take the stone to Ickletor.”
Cete looked to Tingtwang, “What stone? Ickletor, isn’t he the high priest of Yingnak at Octar? Why do you want this boy to take a stone to the priest?”
Though mostly translucent, Tingtwang turned with a shadowy, victorious grin, his cold black eyes flashing yellow.
“It’s The Eye of Dindak!”
Cete’s gray eyes swelled, turning red-veined as her jaw dropped. She stumbled backward only catching herself on her flimsy chair.
“Is that back out in the world?”
Tingtwang dissipated back into a vapor and descended into the visionary pool.
“It is now, and it will make possible my being!”
The witch slumped into the chair. What does that mean? She wondered. “Being… You’re a god; you ARE!”
42: Attempted Assassination
The earthquake shook Nokmoor Forest, as well. Two ribs of the skeleton before Nokmay’s cave entrance tumbled down. Rocks rained from the cave ceiling. The water rippled in the visionary pool splashing on Nokmay awakening her. She made her way to the cave entrance where Rasa was backing away and staring at the trembling skeleton. The witch pushed past her slave and scurried down through the forest emerging at its edge overlooking Tigmoor. The destruction was dramatic from that vantage point.
Eva! She thought. Then she rushed on down across the plains and through the fields to the city.
*
Agmar sat upon his throne, gazing out across the throng of courtiers before him. He turned to his chamberlain, “Where is Lord Mensor? I don’t see him. Is he not with us today?”
The chamberlain bowed slightly and stepped forward to the edge of the dais.
“Lord Mensor! His Majesty requires you to come before the throne.”
A silence swept outward across the murmuring nobles who looked to see where the summoned lord would emerge.
Agmar already knew Mensor was long gone from the city. He’d just wanted to make Mensor’s absence known to all the nobility. Their inquiries would spread the word of treachery. The king had all the members of his hunting party followed since he recovered. Now he knew who was in what alliances.
Mensor and two of his co-conspirators are notably absent as well, Agmar thought. “They know I know Mensor’s intent in his power play on the steps of the palace.
“Lords Mensor, Tacnik, and Bodor have plotted against my throne. Let it be known they are subject to arrest when found. Anyone harboring or hiding them will be considered accomplices in probable treason.”
Murmuring turned to buzzing as the court chattered about the new revelation. Agmar noted a lackey in the shadow of a column slipped back and away out of the throne room. He turned again to the chamberlain, “That man that just slipped out of the hall, have him followed.”
*
Still recovering, Eva left her room and went to find the king’s personal attendant in his suite. She started to turn a corner in the corridor going to the royal apartment and stopped on the spot. Looking across and down the hall, she’d spotted Mensor coming out of the king’s dressing room. She peeked and saw him look back, talking to the Keeper of the King’s Wardrobe!
Mensor isn’t supposed to be in the palace, or the city for that matter, she thought. What would he be up to talking to a member of the king’s personal staff?
She slipped back the way she’d come and hurried through another corridor to wait for Agmar outside his private entrance to the throne room. She pulled him aside when he came through the door.
“My Lord, I must speak privately with you at once.”
Agmar looked puzzled, cocking his head slightly. He hesitated, studying her pleading expression, and then waved away the nobles attending him.
“What is it that is so urgent, Eva? Aren’t you feeling well? Are you having a relapse?” He raised his hand to summon an attendant.
Eva pulled down his arm and waved the approaching man away.
“You must not return to your suite yet, my lord. I was going to speak with one of your personal attendants in your suite. I was about to round a corner in the hallway when I saw him whispering to Mensor!”
“What! Mensor has dared to enter this very palace again?”
Eva lowered her head. She scanned the nobles standing back, waiting to attend the king when he dismissed Eva.
“Keep your voice down, Your Majesty. Who knows what other conspirators may be among those surrounding you now. Mensor had at least one accomplice to get in the palace.”
Agmar’s eyes narrowed. His stare into Eva’s face showed the strain. “Do you sense any among those behind me now as nervous… twitching eyes, anything unusual?”
“No, but you must be on your guard. Mensor made some arrangement with your personal dresser. These men aren’t likely to try anything direct if Mensor has planned your assassination through some means in your dressing room out of the public eye.”
<
br /> Agmar nodded, “You must return to your room and lock the door. I’ll station a guard outside of it. Should anything happen to me, he’ll have orders to escort you personally out of the city without delay.’”
The king again started down the hallway to his suite. The half dozen nobles and servants waiting on him followed in his wake.
Fearing for Agmar’s life, Eva crept behind the entourage keeping them in sight but staying out of theirs.
Agmar reached the doorway to his rooms, turned, and ordered those accompanying him to stand back across the hall. Puzzled, they glanced at each other as they bowed and backed against the far wall. The king flung open the door.
“Tarzamec! Come out here at once!”
There was no response.
“Tarzamec, I ordered you to come out now!”
Still, there was no response. The nobles across the hallway became agitated. One man took a step forward.
“Is Your Majesty feeling quite well?”
Agmar glared at him. The speaker bowed and stepped back to the side of the corridor. Then the king drew his obsidian dagger and stepped into the room. Tarzamec lay in a pool of blood on the floor. Agmar started kneeling to check for signs of life.
In an instant, Mensor, eyes ablaze, shot from behind the door with a dagger in his raised hand. One step and he was standing over the king about to plunge his dagger into Agmar’s neck. The thud of a dagger plunging into flesh sounded through the stunned assembly.
Mensor fell forward onto Agmar’s back and rolled off onto the floor. He groaned as Agmar turned him over. A collective gasp sounded.
Agmar looked at dying Mensor and then back at his bug-eyed courtiers. As he leaned forward to question the dying man about his accomplices, a noble suddenly whipped out his sword and bolted towards the king. Agmar heard a gasp behind him and attempted to stand.
Eva pushed aside the horrified men in the hall. She tripped the man who fell forward at Agmar’s feet, smashing his sword on the stone floor. Before he could stand, another noble jumped forward and stabbed the man repeatedly ensuring he was dead.
Agmar studied the killer who didn’t make eye contact but stepped back to the door.
Hearing the commotion, pairs of guards, armor rattling and with weapons drawn began running towards the carnage. Eva looked up at Agmar who stepped over the dead assassin to embrace her.
“It was you who threw that dagger killing Mensor, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You disobeyed me when I told you to lock yourself in your room. I’d be dead now if you had done as I told you.” Hugging her, he looked to the guards who stood awaiting his orders.
“Accompany these men to safety in their homes.” Agmar waved the terrified nobles away with the guards. Six remained with Agmar and Eva. Still holding her, Agmar walked her to her room and stationed two outside her door. Inside, he released her.
“I’m not sorry I disobeyed you, Majesty, I shall be more obedient in the future.”
Agmar poured them each a libation and handed one goblet to Eva. She took a swallow, then reached to take his drink and took a swallow of that.
Agmar’s eyes swelled. “Even here? Do you suspect one of the conspirators has attempted to poison us here?”
Eva handed the goblet back to Agmar. “If you died poisoned in my room, they’d have said I did it and stabbed me to death claiming to have killed the assassin, me.”
Agmar’s head shook, and he took a swallow of the drink and looked up at Eva. “You saved my life twice back there. I’ve been sure your father sent you here to assassinate me. Now you’ve saved my life three times or is it four?”
Ava set her goblet down. “I’m not sure of my father’s intentions, but I’ve had no such instructions. He merely told me to come here to start a new life and hopefully be your mistress if possible.” She then looked up at him, “He did say he’d send more messages in due time.”
Agmar looked at Eva, his face questioning. “Would you attempt to assassinate me if he ordered you to?”
Eva moved to hug Agmar. She looked up into his eyes, “No chance of that, my lord!” Her face softened with a smile. Then she stepped away and picked up her goblet taking a drink. “Agmar, it’s not my place to interfere here, but something troubles me.”
“And what would that be?”
“The man that stabbed the second assassin to death, he dashed in to kill the assassin I tripped. On the floor without his sword, he was no danger. Yet the killer stabbed him repeatedly. That wasn’t necessary.”
Agmar looked at something on the wall. “No, I noticed that as well. He killed the man to be sure he didn’t name other conspirators.”
“That was what I thought,” Eva said.
“The question is, is this conspiracy to eliminate and replace me on the throne or is this to lay blame on you and claim it’s the work of Ickletor and Octar to drag us into another war.”
“How will you discover the truth?” Eva asked.
“The known conspirators are dead except for that man who killed the second assassin. I’ll have him followed and see with whom he meets. A little torture will loosen their tongues.”
Eva cringed, “Maybe mother has some herbs to loosen their tongues without torture. No, she’d be more likely to assist with the torture.” She chuckled then began to worry again. “It’s not over yet, is it?”
Agmar looked back at the door, “No, It’s only begun.”
43: Closer to Unknown Power
Disguised, Nokmay slipped into the Tigmoor and hid in the shadows in the market place. She learned of the ill-fated hunting expedition and that, though the palace was damaged, both King Agmar and Eva had survived.
Too many close calls, she thought. She slipped out of the city and headed north to Octar. Along the way, she made a side trip to the sinkhole where she’d first discovered Tingtwang. She dragged the remains of a dead beast to the edge and shoved it into the darkness. When she heard chittering and then gnawing, she hung over the edge of the pit.
“You down there, where’s your master?”
The chittering continued unabated. Nokmay had brought the blood of a goat in its skin. She stabbed her knife into the sack several times and hurled the bloody mess far out into the abyss and heard it splash in the river far below. She waited. The chittering became almost unbearable when the black vapor rose up from depths at dusk. It stabilized just below the surface ensuring the last rays of the sun couldn’t strike it. Nokmay’s mind throbbed for a moment then the pain lessened.
“What is so terrible that you would disturb me and draw me here, witch?” Tingtwang asked.
“Tingtwang, are you responsible for the earthquake that nearly killed King Agmar and my daughter Eva?” Laughter seemed to rattle her head.
“I’ve been busy with my affairs, Nokmay. Snuffing out such insignificant beings is of no importance to me unless to feed my creatures. I hope the scavenged carcass you threw down wasn’t supposed to impress me.” He hesitated, “Many of those killed in the collapsed buildings will feed my children for a while. It will give you time to continue along to Octar and assist Ickletor.”
Nokmay drew back from the edge. “I won’t help him unleash the latent powers in the book.”
The vapor seemed to darken even in the hole’s dim light. A deep pain started in Nokmay’s head and spread down through her extremities. The voice in her head responded to her defiance.
“There will be war, Nokmay. I will have a war and bodies aplenty. You’ve failed to stir conflict. It seems I must do it myself, but you will help, like it or not. Now I could engineer your precious Eva killing King Agmar so Tigmoor declares war on Octar or I can spur Ickletor’s greed and lust for power to spark war, but there will be war. Now would you rather have Eva die or help Ickletor in his ‘endeavors’?”
Nokmay was wringing her hands in the darkness that had descended along with her hopes to avoid such horrible choices. She said nothing but stood, hunched over and drained, then trudged
north to Octar. The smoldering estates and scattered bodies, swollen in the crop stubble of abandoned fields, added to her despair as she passed.
The Book of the Underworld in the hands of an idiot will be the undoing of the world, she fretted.
*
Ickletor was feeding his precious Nebo baby rats when Nokmay found him on the terrace of his estate outside of Octar.
“That lizard is huge, Ickletor, you’ll only create more animosity among the people if they see you feed that creature when their children starve.”
The high priest laughed and turned to the witch behind him. “I was told you’d be coming to help me after all.”
Nebo’s eyes fixed on the dangling rat Ickletor held. Apparently, he got impatient and snapped biting Ickletor’s hand. The iguana jerked left and right to tear off flesh. The high priest smacked Nebo several times with a stick before he would let go of the Ickletor’s hand.
Nokmay laughed, “Your pet has grown in ferocity and greed much like you. And like you, it knows no loyalty.”
Red-faced, Ickletor glared at Nebo who indifferent, snatched the rat from the priest’s hand, gulped it down, and scurried over the terrace wall.
Ickletor rubbed the blood from his hand with a cloth and tossed it on the ground. “Come, Nokmay, let’s go inside. The people are out of hope. They’re overturning estates closer to the city now. Lethal fights break out on the plaza daily. The people have lost hope and fear for their very survival. We’ve had near-riots at the foot of Yingnak’s pyramid that only the quick reactions of the palace and temple guards prevented from spilling over into the general population.
It’s time, a necessity really to make use of the book. Only war will unite the people and turn the attention away from their overlords.”
Nokmay nodded almost imperceptibly. “I suppose war is inevitable no matter what we do.”
Ickletor patted her on the back and led her into his study. He closed the door and shutters and then lit lamps. When he was certain they were completely alone, he took The Book of the Underworld from its hiding place and opened it to the index.
The Grim Conspiracy Page 23