The Grim Conspiracy

by C. Craig Coleman

  A knock on the door ended that train of thought.

  “Come in!”

  The door opened, and Sestec ushered in a young slave. He motioned for two dungeon keepers to enter as well and closed the door. The slave noted they’d entered and stood arms crossed in front of the door. His eyes became jittery observing each of the others in the small room.

  Ickletor smiled at the slave and stirred the fire, settling the coals just so. The liquid boiled in the pot. Ickletor added the dried ingredients from the temple. He chopped the wilted plants then waited for the pot to return to a boil before adding them to the pot with care. When it returned to a simmer, he took the pot from the fire and set it on the table. The acrid smell of the steam rising filled the room. Only then did Ickletor speak.

  “You have the hair from Malladar’s brush; you’re certain it’s his?”

  Sestec drew a small clump of hair from a pouch at his waistband, handing it to Ickletor. He nodded.

  Ickletor beamed. He slid the hair into the sludge in the pot, careful to insert all and splash nothing. The sludge turned a deeper shade of black and still bubbled even though it was away from the fire.

  Ickletor nodded to the two dungeon keepers who grabbed the stunned slave and bent him over the table. The man had no time to resist when Sestec jerked back his head and slashed his throat. Blood pulsed into a bowl as the man fought to free himself. The struggle morphed into jerks as death took him and his blood flow slowed to a dribble. Without a word, the dungeon keepers dragged out the body and closed the door. At once, Ickletor poured the blood into the sludge that seemed to suck it into the pot liquid as Ickletor read aloud a spell.

  The sludge cooled and diminished as something snakelike slid up the side of the pot onto the table where it coiled. It was semi-transparent, smooth, and round without head or tail. It was visible but had no substance.

  Ickletor and Sestec both jumped when small blue sparks emanated from the thing as it writhed but made no sound. The high priest placed a ceramic jar on its side next to the thing. It slithered into it. He upended the jar and plopped a top on it.

  “I entrust this to you to take to Tigmoor, Sestec. You must get near King Agmar’s palace in the city to release it. Understood?”

  Sestec bowed and took the jar “Understood.”

  “Don’t return if you fail me.”

  *

  Malladar came upon Eva in the palace garden where she sat by the water lily pool. She was gazing at a dragonfly that landed and bobbed on a blue flower in front of her. An affectionate pair of scarlet tropical birds rested in a tree overlooking the pond.

  “You’ve changed so much since I last saw you, Eva,” Malladar said.

  Eva laughed, “If you mean I no longer act like a slut, yes, your father has changed me completely. He’s been so kind and loving as I’ve never known before.”

  “I heard you were quite a heroine saving his life.”

  Eva blushed, “Yes, I suppose I did do that. You see he’s given meaning to my life.”

  “The people seem to love you, too,” Malladar said.

  Eva sniffed a flower she held. “Tigmoorians love me for saving their king, but times are changing. What will my prospects be without his protection when war breaks out? It’s common knowledge I’m Octarian and the illegitimate daughter of the new king. I’m sure you’re aware Ickletor intends to make war now.”

  “Eva, I’ve seen my father in your presence. He’s very much in love with you.”

  Eva beamed, “Not as much as I’m in love with him. He’s given me my dignity and sense of worth. I can’t imagine life without him.”

  *

  Thinking of what the Abkor said, Nokamy stirred the fire as Rasa cleaned up the cave. What did Nain mean by a terrible price, she wondered. What would they do to me that would harm this ancient being? There is only one thing that matters to me at this time of existence.

  “NO!” she screamed. She scrambled past Rasa knocking her backwards as she ran out of the cave and down through the twisted Nokmoor Forest towards Tigmoor.

  *

  Provided with adequate funds, Sestec purchased a battered, two-wheel cart filled with straw and produce from small farms several miles from Tigmoor. He wore a moth-eaten poncho with a straw hat to pass unnoticed as a local peasant. He held back by the forest on the ridge where Malladar had been attacked so he could monitor the traffic entering the city. When a large group of farmers streamed down the road towards the city early the next morning, Sestec merged into the middle of the line. At the city gate the congestion of carts and wagons irritated the guards who waved most through. Once inside the walls, he drove the cart to the market street where he sold it cheap for a quick sale to dispose of it. With the ceramic jar tucked tight under his arm, he made his way to and across the city’s grand plaza.

  He bought a couple of pasties from a street vendor to give his appearance more credibility as he worked his way around the base of the royal palace’s pyramid. On the backside, he found an innocuous entrance used for kitchen deliveries. Only one sentry stood by the door. He took a deep breath to fortify his nerve and sauntered up bowing to the guard.

  “Oh sir, my friend gave me this special jar. He said I must deliver it to Prince Malladar myself. Can you let me in?”

  The guard snarled looking at Sestec.

  “Please sir, I’ll get into trouble if this doesn’t get to His Highness right away. They were supposed to deliver it last night, but my friend got drunk and forgot.”

  “You got no pass, you lout. Go round front and see if the guards there will let you in being as it’s for the prince.”

  Sestec hemmed and hawed then looked at the pastries.

  “I’ll give you my pastries fresh just minutes ago from the plaza. I bet you’ve been up since last night and haven’t eaten, huh?”

  The guard smacked his lips, looking at the then displayed delicacies. He looked about, grabbed the leaf-wrapped delights, and nodded his head to the door.

  Sestec bobbed a bow and rushed through the door and down the hall to the panty where a cook stopped him.

  “What are you doing down here?”

  “Oh sir, I have this delivery for the prince himself and the guard out there said I should go give it to him at once. He sent me in here.”

  The cook scratched his head and wiped his hands. When he started to grab the jar, Sestec jumped back.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but they told me to give it only to the prince in person.”

  “That guard ain’t got no business sending deliveries that ain’t for the kitchen through here.” The cook pointed through the doorway, “Go through the kitchen. On the other side is a staircase leading up to the hall where the family eats. The prince will be having breakfast there if he ain’t eat already.”

  Once out of the cook’s sight, Sestec wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Get hold of ya self, he thought. This is farther than you thought you ever get. You should just leave the jar here and run for it. That energy snake thing will seek out the prince.

  Another cook came around the corner, “What you doing here?”

  Sestec bowed, “The other cook told me to go through the kitchen and up the staircase to where the family eats to deliver this.”

  “Well get on with it. The family will soon be done eating and out on the king’s business.”

  Sestec rushed up the stairs and peeked through a crack. King Agmar, Eva, and Prince Malladar were seated around the table. They’d laid their napkins beside the plates denoting they’d finished eating. In a moment, they’d be up and gone.

  *

  Nokmay was screaming at the guards at the palace entrance only moments before. “You must let me in, fools! Get out of my way!”

  The guards held their spears crossed and shook their heads.

  “King says no entries without a chamberlain’s pass.”

  “Fools! No one stops me from coming and going. You must be new here. I MUST get to see the king!”

  “
No way in without a pass!” the guard said. He pushed Nokmay back with the butt of his spear.

  The witch was trembling with rage. She felt her body go tense, closed her eyes, and thrust her fingers, hands, and arms at the two guards. She screeched a spell that slammed the two sentries back against the doorframe where they sank to the ground unconscious.

  “What is going on here?” another guard yelled coming out of the portal. He looked upon the commotion below where bystanders huddled and pointed up at Nokmay.

  Nokmay stormed by the standing guard knocking him off his feet as she flew through the door into the palace. She raced down the hall searching for King Agmar. A maid popped out in front of her, and she grabbed the girl with both hands.

  “Where are King Agmar and Lady Eva?”

  The wide-eyed girl was terrified of the raving witch staring in her face.

  “They must be in the dining hall.”

  “Where!”

  The girl pulled one arm free and pointed down the hall, “Go down there past four doors, and it’s on the right, the fifth door.”

  Nokmay shoved the girl aside and ran down the hall. As she flung open the door, she first saw what appeared to be a peasant peering through a crack in the service door on the far side of the room.

  King Agmar shot up out of his seat, “Nokmay! What’s the meaning of this?”

  The witch ran past Agmar and around the table.

  Sestec threw open the door, tossed the jar in the room, and fled back down the staircase.

  The jar smashed against the table leg and then a four-foot-long, translucent snake uncoiled from the shards. As all stood staring, the lethal energy began to tap one end of itself all about searching for something.

  “Get back!” Nokmay said. Her eyes locked on the pure energy being. “Malladar! Come back round the table. Go out the door behind me, now. Get out of the palace. If it should get past me and approaches you, keep water between it and you.”

  “Here now, what is this?” Agmar asked.

  “It’s an energy demon formed on the hairs of its intended victim. One of you is its target. Its mere touch will kill instantly.”

  The snake caught the scent of Malladar and began slithering, following his trail. Malladar rushed around the table for the door, but the snake went under it and coiled on the other side.

  “Malladar!” Agmar yelled.

  “I love you!” Eva said, kissing Agmar on the cheek. She dashed in front of him towards the prince.

  The creature slinked closer to Malladar. It coiled within striking distance.

  Nokmay shot a bolt of wizard fire, but the creature caught and absorbed it. Again it coiled and then sprang at Malladar.

  Eva ran between them, and sparks flared! She glowed for a moment, sizzled, and then her charcoal body trembled with smoke emanating from her pores. In a moment, she fell as ash to the floor.

  Nokmay crept over to her daughter’s ashes and collapsed beside them. She clutched her chest as tears began to flow. Then her trembling head rolled back wailing as if her soul bled out.

  Servants crept up to the open door to see the source of such an agonized sound. Agmar and Malladar stood dumbstruck, tears streaming from both.

  *

  Retracing his steps, Sestec snuck out of the palace, out of the city, and back to Octar and Ickletor.

  “It’s done, Majesty! Malladar is dead.”

  Ickletor’s face contorted in a vile sneer.

  “You saw him burn to ash?”.

  “Well no, that witch friend of yours rushed into the room where the prince was eating his breakfast just as I was tossing the jar beside him. I had to run to get out of there, but that energy snake had to have gotten him.”

  “Good, Sestec, once again you prove your worth over that useless Toda who’s never around. You will be richly rewarded, richly indeed.”

  54: Upheaval!

  Toda came rushing into the dining room aghast at the sight only a moment after Eva died. He looked at the ashen faces of king and prince before Nokmay, on her knees, ceased rocking. The witch was scarlet even to her eyes when she turned to the others. She wiped her nose and eyes with her sleeve. No one moved but Nokmay who began turning dark blue. She snatched a tray, turned back, and swept up Eva’s ashes with a delicate touch. She grabbed a bowl, emptied it on the floor, and delicately poured the ashes into it. Still without speaking, she clutched the bowl; arm wrapped tight around it and staggered out of the palace as if she were the walking dead. Agmar and Malladar followed her through the palace. They watched her trudge up the hillside to Nokmoor Forest where she disappeared.

  “My beloved Eva,” Wet-eyed Agmar mumbled. He put his arm around Malladar.

  “You loved her very much, didn’t you, Father?”

  “I loved her like no other since your mother died. Who could have guessed the daughter of Nokmay and Ickletor could be so full of passion and genuine love.” He turned to look at Malladar, “She knew you were my world. She loved me so much; she gave her own life to save you for me.”

  Only then did they notice the palace was in an uproar with servants and guards scurrying in every direction. The chamberlain rushed up half-dressed and gasping for breath.

  “Majesty! Thank Yingnak you and Prince Malladar are unharmed! I can’t imagine how such a thing could have happened. I’ve got the guards questioning the entire household staff to find out how a stranger could have traversed the halls and gotten to your dining room unhindered. Heads will roll.”

  Agmar shook his head. “There’s been too much death. Find out where the security breach occurred and correct it. We’ll need all our resources to confront Octar and that vile Ickletor when they come calling.”

  The chamberlain bowed clutching his robe around him. “As you say.” He started to leave, and Agmar grabbed his arm.

  “Send a messenger to me. I wish to write personally to King Ickletor in Octar and affix my seal. It’s to be hand-delivered. He must know it is from me.”

  “What will you say, Father?” Malladar asked.

  “I shall tell him you, and I still live! I want him to know his own creature killed his DAUGHTER!”

  *

  King Ickletor paced the dais in the palace throne room. His generals stood at attention, but the king’s anger was such their jittery glances to each other revealed their fear.

  “The lot of you whines too much. Always excuses for delays. The next one that babbles an excuse will be flayed, and his heart burned on Yingnak’s altar. Now get out! We go to war, gentlemen, we go any day now. We march on my command! You’d best be ready”

  The generals bowed at once and backed out of the throne room passing the chamberlain accompanied by the messenger from Tigmoor with his sealed document. Still irritated, Ickletor was thinking how lucky he was to have just discovered Yingnak’s disastrous state. How lucky he was obtaining a skull and restoring the statue within its enclosure before some subordinate priest discovered it. Only the cleaning slave who had rushed directly to tell him had to be ‘eliminated.’

  “Majesty,” the chamberlain said bowing, “this courier has come directly from King Agmar in Tigmoor. He insists on delivering the king’s message in person.”

  Ickletor sneered, “Likely come to surrender his throne now that his son is dead. Come forward; give me the dispatch!”

  The Tigmoorian messenger stepped up on the dais, bowed, and handed the document to the king.

  Ickletor recognized the seal and tore open the message with a look of glee on his face. He read it. The heat of rage surged through him so fast he was nauseous. The chamberlain stepped back. Ickletor jerked out his ceremonial sword with its razor-shape, obsidian chips blade and lopped off the stunned messenger’s head. The body jerked on the dais as blood spurted from the neck and the eyes fluttered in the rocking head.

  Ickletor’s eyes blazed when he looked up at the chamberlain.

  “WAR!” He screamed, “Call back the generals. The army marches in two days.”

  He was stil
l clutching the blood-dripping sword when Sestec rushed up to him.

  “Majesty, what’s wrong. How may I help?”

  Ickletor, tight as a spring, spun around and hacked Sestec to an unrecognizable mass of bloody flesh and smashed bones. He hurled the sword out beyond the dais where it smashed on the stone floor sending obsidian shards flying everywhere. Without speaking, he stormed off back to his suite, ordered the servants out, and slammed the door.

  Hours later, Ickletor flung open the door. A dozen retainers dropped to the floor. Prostrate none daring to look up. The trembling chamberlain stepped through them, but Ickletor marched past them all to the throne room. The generals had not dared to leave when summoned back before the king but sat in seats around the walls. They jumped up rushing forward as he strode across the podium and stood staring at them.

  “We war on Tigmoor dawn two days hence. I will send Nebo my dragon this very day to soften up the resistance. I will hear no arguments. Go now! Draw up your attack plans and give notice to the troops. There will be neither mercy nor prisoners. The troops may rape and plunder at will, but the food warehouses must be guarded and inviolate. Is that clear?”

  Not daring to speak, the generals nodded, bowed, and fled.

  Ickletor went out on the balcony overlooking the grand plaza where the devoted mob had assembled as they had daily. Nebo rested beyond the walls. Ickletor began raving about the misdeeds of Tigmoor. He yelled about how King Agmar and Prince Malladar had attempted to subvert Octar, how their peasants had infiltrated the kingdom with intent to destroy it from within. The citizens, military, and civilian chanted seeing the king.

  “Destroy Tigmoor once and for all! King Ickletor has exposed our enemies and will crush them into the dust! Victory and long life to King Ickletor, beloved of Yingnak and Octar!”

  Ickletor stepped to the edge of the balcony, and the crowd went wild, jumping up and down, repeating the chant. He thrust out his arms in a victorious stance.

  “Loyal and devoted citizens of Octar, your king loves you. It is I who will save you from those that seek to infiltrate our society and overthrow our way of life!”