Westmark

by Lloyd Alexander

  "Trash," Cabbarus repeated. "You are a common fraud, a despicable cheat and swindler."

  "Yes, and a better man than you," cried Theo, be fore Musket, reddening, could come to his master's defense. "You talk about virtue and duty. You've turned them into lies."

  "My boy, I beg you! Hold your tongue," the count pleaded. "Let him call me what he will. If he wants something I can provide and we can save our necks with it, let's hear what he has to say."

  Mickle, Theo abruptly realized, was no longer at his side. Cabbarus, ignoring Theo's words, looked past him toward a corner of the chamber. "Fetch the girl."

  The chief minister's voice had an edge of alarm. "Keep her away from there."

  The girl was staring down at a wooden trapdoor set in the stone flooring. She did not turn when Theo reached her. She stood frozen, her eyes glazed. Musket had followed Theo and between them they drew her back from the sloping edge.

  "It stinks of blood," she murmured. "He's killed people here. I know it."

  Mickle's brow was burning to his touch. Theo turned to Cabbarus. "The girl is sick. She must have a doctor. Take her-out of this place."

  "I doubt that her complaint is serious," replied Cabbarus. "She will recover. In fact, she must."

  "Whatever you require of me," put in Las Bombas, "she has no part in it. I urge you to release her. My cures and treatments-she has nothing to do with any of that."

  "She has everything to do with it," said Cabbarus.

  "The king wishes to communicate with the spirit of his daughter. And so he will. There have been reports from a town called Felden. You are known to have summoned ghosts and apparitions with the girl's assistance."

  "Do you believe that?" cried Las Bambas, turning pale. "My dear sir, you must understand-and I ask you to keep this a matter of confidence between us these apparitions, spirit-raisings and all such are, shall we say."

  "False," said Cabbarus. "No more than a mounte bank's trickery."

  "Exactly!" returned the count, with a certain tone of pride. "Mere illusions, theatrical entertainments. For a moment, I thought you took them as genuine. If His Majesty wishes to reach the spirit of the late princess, the girl can't help him. She can't summon a ghost of any sort, let alone Princess Augusta."

  "She will not summon the spirit of the princess," said Cabbarus. "She herself will be the spirit of Augusta. The resemblance between them is striking. She is the age the princess would now have been."

  "Impossible!" protested Las Bambas. "She's a street girl. There's no way she can make the king believe she's his daughter."

  "How convincing her performance will be," said Cabbarus, "is entirely up to her. For her sake, and yours, I hope it will be persuasive. His Majesty has proclaimed a sentence of death for any who fail him. This is the king's command, not mine. I can do nothing to change it.

  "His Majesty knows of your presence. He will grant you a special audience tonight. You will not disappoint him."

  "There's no time," said Las Bambas, beginning to sweat. "There are special arrangements to be made. It can't be done."

  "You shall have whatever you need," said Cabbarus. "The girl will have only one task. As princess, she will convey a message to her father."

  "Message? She can't know what to say to the king."

  "She will say what I instruct her to say," replied Cabbarus. "The message is simple, but she must give it precisely. Young woman, I advise you to listen carefully.

  "You are to tell His Majesty that your unhappy shade will never rest unless he does what you entreat him. For the sake of his love for you, for his own peace of mind, and for the good of the kingdom, he will give up his throne."

  "What?" cried Las Bambas. "Ask the king to abdicate? Leave the throne because-because a ghost wants him to? He'll never do it."

  "He will do as his daughter prays him to," said Cabbarus. "As he has always done. In her life, he refused her nothing. He will not refuse her now. Indeed, more than ever, he will grant whatever she desires. I know His Majesty's mind and can assure you of that.

  "Bu t there is one thing more. The princess will not only plead for the king to abdicate. She will also urge His Majesty to name a successor. She will tell him that he is to resign his throne in favor of his chief minister."

  "You're mad!" cried Theo. "You dare make yourself king!"

  "Not I," said Cabbarus. "Princess Augusta shall do it for me. I had once contemplated His Majesty naming me adoptive heir. This is much simpler and saves tiresome waiting. It is only a formality. I rule in fact. I intend to do so in name, as well: Cabbarus the First."

  The chief minister stood. "I go to advise His Majesty that I have spoken with you and am convinced your powers are genuine. Meanwhile, you shall make certain the girl understands what she must do. When I return, you shall specify the preparations you desire. If you need a further spur to your efforts, I can tell you that His Majesty offers quite a substantial reward for success. If avoiding death is not sufficient incentive, I am certain that money will be."

  Cabbarus strode from the chamber. Las Bambas clapped his hands to his head.

  "We're cooked! We'll never pull it off. Oh, my boy, I wish you'd never thought of The Oracle Priestess in the first place. Mickie's a wonder, I know that. Butas Princess Augusta? She'll never manage."

  "Do you want her to?" Theo demanded. "King Augustine or King Cabbarus? Florian said there was no difference. I think he was wrong. I don't know whether he's right about the monarchy, or whether Dr. Torrens is. All I know is that I won't have any part in setting that murderer on the throne."

  "The idea of King Cabbarus is distressing, I admit," said the count. "Being dead, evermore so. We've got to try it. No, by heaven, we'll do better than try. We'll give him a princess that Augustine can't help but believe. Once the money's in hand, let Cabbarus rule as he pleases. For us, out of the country and on to Trebizonia! Mickle, my dear, listen to me."

  "Don't be a fool," cried Theo. "Do you think any of us will get out of this no matter what we do? Do you think Cabbarus will let us live a moment longer than he has to? Knowing what we know? That he set himself up as king on the word of a sham princess? That the whole business was nothing but a trick? He won't dare keep us alive."

  The count choked off his words. His face fell. "I hadn't looked at it that way. I'm afraid you have a rather strong point."

  Musket, during this, had been examining the trapdoor. Shaking his head in discouragement, he came to rejoin them.

  "I thought we could try climbing down that drain or whatever it is. But there's water at the bottom. How deep or where it goes I don't know, and I'm not sure we'd last long enough to find out. Even so, we might risk it."

  "Before plunging into some bottomless pit," said Las Bombas, "I'd rather explore another possibility. Let Cabbarus think we'll go along with his scheme. Once we're before the king, we confess the whole business. Throw ourselves on his mercy. Let him know his own chief minister forced us into it."

  "Will Augustine believe it?" said Theo. "It's our word against Cabbarus."

  Las Bombas nodded ruefully. "I'm afraid you're right. I don't see us winning that argument. It's the end of us, no matter what. We have everything to lose and absolutely nothing to gain. At this point, the only question is our choice of demise: wet or dry?"

  24

  In Freyborg, what seemed years ago, Justin had said he would give up his life if Florian asked him. The idea had seemed heroic and admirable to Theo at the time. Now he was furious. Dying for Florian was one thing; dying for the benefit of the chief minister made him feel soiled. He thought, for a moment, of simply throwing himself at the throat of Cabbarus and satisfying at least some of his rage before the guards killed him. That would be no help to Mickle, or Musket, or Las Bombas, who was bemoaning deprivation of life and fortune both in the same day.

  "Chance it, that's what I say," declared Musket. "Feet first down the shaft, take a breath, and hope for the best."

  "All very well for you," said Las Bam
bas, who had gone to see the trapdoor himself. "I'm not the size for it. I'd end up like a cork in a bottle."

  Mickle crouched in a corner, arms clasped around her shoulders. She stared at the open drain as if unable to turn away.

  "Not there," she whispered. Her voice was thin, a frightened child's.

  Theo went to kneel beside her. He glanced at the count. "She's not fit to try anything. I'm not sure she's even able to walk."

  Las Bombas glumly nodded. "I feel much the same. Poor girl, if anyone could outface Cabbarus I'd have thought she'd be the one. She's been scared out of her wits from the moment she set foot in here. I don't blame her." The count brightened for a moment. "That might be a blessing in disguise. What if she took sick, eh? Performance canceled due to serious indisposition."

  "You won't get away with it," said Musket. "That fish-eyed scoundrel doesn't look the sort to hear excuses. She can't be sick forever. He'll wait. The girl's the one he wants; and suppose in the meantime he decides he doesn't need the rest of us? If we're going to try our luck, it's now or never."

  "There's one thing we can do," said Theo, after a time. He hurried on as the idea took better shape in his mind. "Go along with Cabbarus."

  "What?" cried Las Bombas. "After all you said against it?"

  "Hear the rest," said Theo. "If the king doesn't believe she's his daughter, we're lost from the start. But-suppose Mickle can really make him think she's Princess Augusta? It's doubtful, but she just might be able to do it. If the king listens to her and believes what she says, we may have a chance."

  "I don't see that," said the count. "How's it going to help us?"

  "Cabbarus wants her to tell the king to give up his throne. What if she does the opposite?"

  "Eh? Opposite of what?"

  "She tells him to keep it. She tells him never to abdicate, no matter what his chief minister advises. She warns him against Cabbarus, begs the king to dismiss him-"

  "And Cabbarus denounces us as frauds."

  "Let him," said Theo. "Even if he does, he'll still have a lot to account for."

  "It comes to the same," said Las Bombas. "The king may believe us, or he may not. It doesn't answer the question uppermost in my mind: What becomes of us later? Master Cabbarus, I suspect, has a long arm. And the state Mickie's in-Even so, anything's better than jumping into drain pipes."

  "Will you try it?" Theo turned to Mickle. On her face was a look of terror he had never seen before. She finally nodded. He smiled at her and would have taken her hand, but she drew away from him.

  He had expected Cabbarus. Instead, it was Pankratz who came to order Las Bombas to make his preparations. Theo was unwilling to leave Mickle alone. The count assured him he and Musket could do all that was needed.

  Mickle still crouched motionless. Once, she cried out as if in a waking nightmare. The rest of the time, she kept silent. He wondered if she understood or remembered anything of what she must do. He began to despair of his plan. He had thought of no other when the door was unlocked and Las Bombas hurried in.

  The count helped Mickle put on a white robe, meantime whispering to Theo, "Musket's waiting. We have it all ready. The draperies, the lights-marvelous, the best I've ever done. It could work. Mickle might well save all our skins."

  They were escorted from the chamber, across the courtyard, and entered what Las Bombas told Theo was the New Juliana. Cabbarus awaited them in a large audience hall.

  "His Majesty never leaves his apartments," said Cabbarus. "On this occasion, he has consented to do so. I have promised him an event of utmost importance. Queen Caroline will attend, as well, along with His Majesty's high councilors and ministers. It is essential for all to hear for themselves what the princess will instruct her father."

  "It's better than what we had in Felden," said Las Bornbas, leading Theo and Mickle behind the curtains screening a low platform. "One thing I'll say for Cabbarus, he gave me all I wanted. He found some excellent tripods and braziers. I've worked it out so they'll give off quite impressive smoke. I could have had fireworks and rockets, but they seemed a touch excessive."

  Las Bombas helped Mickle to a tall chair, where she sat with her head bowed. From the murmur of voices beyond the curtains, Theo guessed the courtiers were arriving. The count went to the front of the platform. Mickle's breathing had turned shallow. She did not answer when Theo spoke to her and gave no sign she heard him.

  Las Bombas ducked around the curtains. "The king and queen are here. Cabbarus wants us to begin."

  "We can't. Not now. Mickle's taken a turn for the worse. Tell Cabbarus there's been a delay. Tell him tell him anything."

  "Too late," groaned the count. Musket had lit the tripods. Clouds of smoke billowed upward. Mickle raised her head. The girl seemed to be forcing herself past the limits of her strength. Theo pulled on the cords that opened the curtains. In the hall, the candles had been snuffed out. He saw only a crowd of shadows, two dim figures on a dais at the far end of the room, and the dark shape of Cabbarus beside them. The count had arranged lanterns on either side of Mickle, and their glow fell on her face. The courtiers drew in their breath at their first sight of the girl. Her eyes were lowered, her features a pale mask. Her lips parted slightly but did not move. She spoke in a tone that seemed to come from a great distance.

  "Help me. Please help me. I'm going to fall."

  The terror and pleading that underlay the words were so real that Theo started forward.

  "Please," Mickle went on, "give me your hand."

  "What's she doing?" Las Bombas whispered frantically to Theo. "She's not supposed to go at it like that. She's ruining the whole business. If we ever had a chance, it's gone!"

  Mickle had risen from her chair. "Hurry. I can't hold on any longer."

  A cry of anguish rang through the chamber, not from the king, but from Queen Caroline.

  "That is my child! My child is calling!"

  25

  Theo's head whirled. He had staked all on Mickle's acting her part well; but to mimic a voice she had never heard, the voice of a child long dead, was impossible.

  Mickle's tone changed and deepened. It was a new voice, cruel and mocking.

  "You seem, Princess, to have put yourself in a fine fix. Let that be a lesson not to pry into places that don't concern you."

  The child's voice spoke again. "I was playing hide-and-seek. It was only a game. Please, I'm getting tired."

  Mickle had begun making her way like a sleepwalker to the middle of the hall. Theo and Las Bombas were too dumbstruck to prevent her. She spoke once more.

  "You take a different air with me now, Princess. I was never one of your favorites. How quickly you change your manner, with your life in my hands. Do you beg me to help you? I am not sure I wish to oblige."

  The courtiers gasped. They had realized the same thing Theo had in the same instant. The voice was a girl's imitating a man; but in tone and cadence, unmistakable: the voice of Cabbarus.

  Before Mickle could go on, the chief minister burst out, "What is this monstrous trickery? Majesty, they have deceived me with their promises. They are frauds-"

  "Be silent!" cried Augustine. "The spirit of my child at last speaks to me. She tells me truly how she came to her death!"

  A dry laugh rose from Mickie's lips. "Many before you, little Princess, made their last journey down this well. Would you find it amusing to join them?"

  For all its terror, the child's voice took on a tone of command. "Lift me out. My father shall know how you treated me. He won't like to hear how you stood up there and made fun of me. Some of the ministers want him to send you away. I heard them talking about it. My father hasn't made up his mind. But he will, once he finds out you wouldn't help me."

  "He will only know if you live to tell him."

  Mickie's eyes were wide, staring upward as she cried out, "My hands are slipping! Cabbarus, don't! You're hurting my fingers!"

  Someone was calling for lights. Theo sprang from behind the curtains. Mickle screa
med and dropped to the floor. King Augustine was on his feet.

  "My daughter did not die by mishap! It was you, Cabbarus! You told me you came too late to save her life. A lie! You were there with her in the Old Juliana. You let her fall to her death. Her spirit accuses you!"

  Queen Caroline had reached Mickle. She flung herself beside the unconscious girl. "No spirit! This is my child!"

  "Murderer!" cried Augustine. He took a step toward Cabbarus. "Murderer! Seize him!"

  Cabbarus leaped away. The guards were as stunned as the courtiers. He forced his way through the ranks of attendants and fled the chamber. Leaving Mickle and the queen, Theo bolted after him. Cabbarus had gained the corridor and was making for the courtyard.

  Theo at his heels, Cabbarus halted, uncertain which way to turn. A company of soldiers had come into sight from one of the arcades. Finding this path of escape blocked, Cabbarus darted through the gate of the Old Juliana. He broke his stride to tum and strike at Theo, who fell to one knee and clutched at the man's robe.

  Cabbarus tore free. Guards from the audience chamber were in the courtyard, the alarm raised throughout the palace. Theo grappled with Cabbarus, who threw him aside and clambered up a flight of stone steps.

  Theo stumbled after him. The steps narrowed and twisted. It was the belfry of the old fortress. A square gallery with a low railing surrounded the massive bells. Stone arches, open to sky and wind, gave him a dizzying glimpse of the courtyard below.

  Cabbarus halted and spun around. Theo heard the growling of an enraged animal. To his horror, he realized it came from his own throat. He flung himself on the chief minister. Cabbarus fought to break loose. His fingers locked around Theo's neck. Theo pitched backward. Still in the grip of Cabbarus, he lurched against the railing and hurtled over it. He fell, clutching at air for an instant. His hand caught one of the bell ropes.

  Cabbarus, toppling with him, loosened his grasp. The man screamed and would have plummeted to the bottom of the tower if Theo had not snatched his arm and held on to it with all his strength.