Mantle: The Return of the Sha (14 page)

“Without their king, the Skites began to lose power and quickly died, their bodies returning to the soil of Narciss. But before they did, Menagraff devised a trap—three traps, really. Three inflocks were dispatched, one to each kingdom. Each of these was sent with a single purpose—returning Menagraff to his throne as the king of Skite.”

Zander, who had been listening with such intensity, caught himself forgetting to breathe, and now opened his mouth in shocked horror. He hoped that Dicen would answer his newfound question before he would need to ask it.

“The arrival of the Dark Weed means that Menagraff’s spirit has gained in strength. Two of the three pieces have been united in the mountain of Narciss. We do not know of the circumstances by which these two came together, but we do know that the third piece is kept in Forris under
your
protection. Our roots run deep and we would have known of its absence.”

Zander instantly felt an urge to take command, ordering the skull’s protection and finding the inflock. He knew nothing of either, so he refrained from speaking. An interruption might be taken as rude and he would have no time to make the necessary apologies to the Trees.

But Dicen felt the question lingering, “Zander, would you like to cure your curiosity with a question?”

“Yes, thank you, Lord Dicen. As I’ve had no knowledge of the skull piece until now, I do not know of its location. Might you please tell me how I could go about protecting the skull, and finding the inflock, given that I cannot identify either?”

“That is a very good question, young Zander. Very good, indeed,” Dicen said, and Zander thought he heard a twinge of satisfaction in his tone.

“The skull should be simple enough to locate, as it is what your people refer to as the
Crown of Forris.
If you locate one, you’ve located the other—for they are the same.”

This came as a shock to Zander, who always believed that the Crown of Forris was an actual crown, perhaps from the first of the Forie kings. That the myth of the crown had grown in order to cover the lie that had been created centuries ago bothered him deeply. What he always believed, and quite likely his father believed also, was that the Crown of Forris was the jewel beneath the throne, a symbol of continuity and security. Now he was suddenly learning that it was but a mere crypt, housing the amputated spirit of an evil king from another land.

“As for the inflock,” Dicen continued, “that may prove more difficult. The inflock cannot gain enough power to become a threat to you, unless it has found a suitable host. This host would need to be of a dark heart. If it finds this host, it will use this willing victim to further its purpose. Your challenge will be finding the host, a person of ill intent and bad will.”

Zander wasn’t sure this would be so difficult. After all, Forris was not riddled with thieves and villains. A person of evil nature should be simple enough to see, as he imagined it would be fairly difficult to mask ill intent.

Zander, sensing that Dicen was allowing time for inquiry, finally asked the one question that would determine the future of Forris and Mantle; if not for this generation, then for the next.

“Can the Crown of Forris and the inflock be destroyed, my Lord?”

“The spirit of Menagraff cannot be destroyed, young Zander. Not entirely. But you can eliminate his ability to return, with an equally opposing force.”

“What force would be equal to that of Menagraff, my Lord?”

“The spirit of Menagraff is evil in its purest form—the center of evil in this world. The force that you must find will require virtue that can match this evil and overbear it. If such virtue exists, you must enlist it for your cause. The spirit of Menagraff requires the skull in order to return in a physical body and to summon his warriors. Therefore, elimination of the skull itself will prevent that return.

“The inflock, being an extension of Menagraff’s spirit, will lay dormant, unable to draw its full power until it has found its host. Once it has found that host, it will have only one mission—procuring the skull and returning it to Skite lands. It, too, will always continue to exist, but its
mission
can be defeated.”

Zander was confused by this, and Dicen felt it.

“You seem troubled, young Zander.”

“Yes, my Lord. I was always taught to believe that good had the ability to triumph over evil, that evil could ultimately be destroyed by the good nature of the world. Is this not so?”

“Zander, how would you measure
good
if there were no
evil
? Good and evil are opposing forces, much like the directions of north and south. While north and south are separate by definition, they are pushing against each other in an unwinnable battle, so that they are in infinite change, depending on the direction one looks or walks. Zander, you could be standing in the far north, and make a personal decision to walk south. In the moment of your decision, the south has lost ground and the direction of north has won territory.

“Much is the same between good and evil. The decisions made by those living in this world will determine the borders for each. For many centuries now, you have lived in a world where good has prevailed in its battle with evil. Now, the battle has shifted and evil has gained strength. You must beat back that strength.

“Neither good nor evil can ever
truly
be eliminated. They may both individually be defeated, but they will always flicker in existence. Try to imagine the impossibility of a world without any form of evil. Even in this impossible world, one would be forced to measure levels of good, leaving something at the lower levels—thereby creating evil by default. It is a paradox that cannot be broken. The best you might do is to defeat evil and send it into exile.”

Zander felt a deep sadness at what Dicen had said. He knew it was true, but it was a knowledge that he and all others seemed to ignore. He supposed that holding an illusion that evil could be eliminated was really no more than a necessary survival instinct.

Dicen broke Zander’s thoughts. “Zander, the skull continues to be kept in Forris; we would have felt its departure, as I’ve said. You must keep safe the crown and beware of the inflock. My counsel on this matter has concluded for today.”

And with that, their meeting had ended, the sun now creeping toward its hiding place. Zander walked in deep thought back to his guards, who had patiently waited for his return just outside the forest. He found them lounging in the grass, knees up to the sky. There would be no danger for Zander while in the forest, the Trees would not allow it, so Zander would not scold them. He only thought that the look of them seemed pathetic given what was sure to come. They had no idea that their casual nature was about to be plucked from them.

****

Balki’s plan of sabotage seemed simple enough; he would greet the king before sunrise and plant false curiosity about things that would anger the Trees. And while it might have seemed simple, he hadn’t counted on the possibility that the king might leave sooner than expected. When he went looking for the king just before first light, he was told that he had, indeed, left for his meeting with the Trees hours earlier than planned. Balki was furious with himself. He hadn’t accounted for all of the possibilities, and now the king was likely made aware of the inflock’s presence in his kingdom.

Although his task might be more difficult now, Balki wasn’t sure exactly how. He still didn’t have full knowledge of his own mission. The inflock, continuing to gain power, was now feeding Balki false memories. These false memories began to act like the pieces to a puzzle, fitting together slowly to form a complete understanding. He was beginning to understand the inflock, the Skites, and what he would be required to do. The details and method of his treason had yet to be disclosed, but he did know that time would be short.

Now he would wait to see how much of his newfound knowledge the king would be willing to share with his council. He could fill in any details later when he had the king alone, his will at Balki’s mercy.

****

King Zander returned to Obengaard in the early-morning hours, and at sunrise summoned his counselors. He hadn’t slept, but he couldn’t bear to hold what he knew alone; he needed other minds also focused on the problems at hand. He had spent the ride back to Obengaard contemplating his meeting with the council, and when he arrived home, he found himself thinking to wake Bella to ask her advice. He didn’t—he would not tell her of the imminent threat. Such things would only worry her, he thought, and he would only tell her when he must.

When he took his seat at the Concord Block that morning, he began his recounting of Dicen’s counsel to his advisers. He had prepared to tell them nearly everything, but found himself holding on to the knowledge of past wars and repeated mistakes. If they went to war, it would be his burden to ensure that lessons would be learned by future generations. He would be the one to lead them in a direction of self-assessment, and remembrance of the battles they had fought and the loved ones they had lost. He would not shatter their illusion of the world they lived in, when there would be nothing to gain from it. He would not be so cruel.

As he told of the skull’s presence in the kingdom, he deliberately neglected to tell them that it was, in fact, the Crown of Forris. He had put much thought into his decision to omit the fact, and had finally concluded that it came down to who he could trust. In order for the inflock to succeed in its mission, it would need to be close within royal circles. He would not risk it.

When he had finally finished conveying all that he would tell them, the table erupted in immediate conversation. Each councilor raised his voice to be heard above the next, until the room was full with a single roaring sound.

Zander remained calm, reached for a brass weight that lay before him, and slammed it to the Block. The noise created was a thundering boom that rendered all in the room silent immediately.

“Gentlemen, would we act like savages to address a threat by savages? Zander asked. “Sit, all of you, and voice your concerns as gentlemen of the King’s Council—not babblers on the floor of a pub.”

“Where is the skull?” It was Crook who had asked the question, but they all nodded their heads and murmured agreement. Balki, however, remained silent.

“I do not know, but we must find it. Search the archives and libraries for any hint of its location so that we might protect it,” Zander said, hoping that he had sounded convincing.

Balki saw something, though. He saw that the king had looked away when he had said he did not know of the skull’s location. It had only been a quick glance, but he had looked away nonetheless. He had revealed himself, and Balki knew at once, that King Zander knew
precisely
where the skull had been kept all these many years. And if the king knew, then he would know soon enough himself.

Monarchs

LIZABET WAS AMAZED at how much there was to see at Obengaard. Bannister Castle itself was so large and odd in design, due to ages of modification, that in just over a week’s time in her new home she felt like she hadn’t even come close to exploring all of its secrets. She would have time, she supposed.

She had discovered one thing along her adventures so far, though—she had an admirer. She had noticed that one of the outer butlers had been watching her on occasion. She had only caught sight of him from the corner of her eye, but she thought that it might be the outer butler that she had exchanged smiles with at the gate when they arrived at Obengaard on that first wonderful day.

This spying had gone on during her last four outings, and now as she left her room for another walk through the castle, she thought that it was time for proper introductions. Although the maid who had accompanied them in the carriage during their trip to Obengaard had advised against speaking with the Lopers, she would confront him and make his acquaintance the next time he appeared.

This day, she knew exactly where she would explore. The day before she had discovered doors that opened to a seemingly abandoned area of the castle. Until then, she hadn’t thought that there were any parts of the castle that went unused, but it was clear that her assumptions were wrong.

As she walked through the corridors of the castle, on her way to her destination, she smiled at each passing person she had already met, wishing each of them a happy morning. Those who she had not met she stopped to make introductions with, before going on her way.

When she reached the abandoned area of the castle, she walked down the dusty corridor to its end, where she was met by two large doors on either side of the hall.

She quietly opened the door on the left to find it empty except for a few scattered pieces of broken furniture lying about, covered in dust.

Finding nothing of interest in the first room, she turned and entered the second room. There was less light in this room since the only window was but a small square set high on the far wall.

Lizabet’s eyes adjusted and she immediately looked at the small wooden door which sat directly below the window. When she had first seen the door, during her exploring the day before, she was certain that it would lead outside. But to her surprise, when she had first opened it, she found a staircase that led down into darkness.

This time, though, she had brought provisions. She opened the door, and pulled out a small crystal light from her pocket. It had been a gift from the Emm, who no doubt had a supply of such trinkets on hand for such an occasion as the arrival of the soon-to-be queen’s sister. When he had given it to her, he had watched her expression as if waiting for her to gasp or faint in wonder. She saw his anticipation and increased her interest in the crystal as much as she could. After all, in her own village, pigs could cause it to rain, so she thought that a light could only be as impressive as a light.

She held the crystal in her left hand and slowly moved her right hand over it twice until it became bright.

Now, with the crystal lit, she held it out over the staircase. Even with the crystal, she could not see past the fifth step. The darkness seemed to eat away at the light before her very eyes. When she was about to move onto the first step, she stopped with a realization so thick that she let out a deep breath. It wasn’t a feeling of fear, but the exact opposite. She had
no
fear of the staircase, just as she had no fear of being alone in a long-deserted section of the castle.

She looked back around at the room that she was standing in and wondered,
How is it that this room does not frighten me? There is thick dust, poor lighting, and spider strings pulled about everywhere!

Her shock wasn’t that she was frightened of the room or of what she was about to do, but why she
wasn’t
frightened in the least. She would ponder the reasons later, but for the time being she would do her exploring.

She stepped down onto the first step and then the next, continuing slowly until she could see that they would begin forming a spiral. The steps, which were only two feet across at the top, began widening as she went down. On the walls to her right, she could see iron candle displays like the ones in the castle foyer. The design was different—simpler, but they looked like they might be from a previous version of the castle décor. The candle in the display was melted down to nothing and long wax rods hung like ice frozen in time. Lizabet wondered how long it would have taken for the charmed wax to melt. Many centuries, she supposed.

She continued walking down and the steps continued to widen, until finally the steps were no longer steps. She was standing inside the edge of a large room. It was round, and towered up at least two levels; she couldn’t see past the darkness to know for sure. On each level there were rusted and broken bars hanging on the entrances to smaller rooms. She knew immediately that she was standing in the center of a dungeon. She had heard of such terrible things, but could not have imagined that such places would exist in Forris. Her heart sank, but she noticed that fear still hadn’t crept into her mind for even a moment.

In the center of the room were wooden and iron objects, some with long spikes, and others with ropes hanging from iron bars. There were blades similar to those of swords that were standing blade-up, side by side on what now resembled a bed. None of what she saw made any sense, for she had never seen such things. But she knew the
purpose
of what was before her. She knew in her heart and mind that what she was gazing at were the tools of misery.

****

When Lizabet emerged from the stairway, back into the large abandoned room, she was shocked to find the outer butler standing across the room just inside the doorway. He was making no attempt to hide himself or run away when Lizabet took a step forward, and then stopped. She stood standing, not knowing what to do, or if she should speak, so she simply smiled at the huge Loper. His shoulders relaxed and he slowly returned a smile of his own. Lizabet recognized it immediately as that of the butler she had seen before at the gate.

She reached behind to close the door that she had just come out of, not taking her eyes from the Loper. And when she heard the door shut behind her, the Loper’s smile immediately faded and his eyes widened. He pointed to the door and took a step back.

Not knowing how to address him, she simply said, “Hello, Mister Butler, what troubles you?”

The Loper raised his hand again, pointing at the door, and said, “The door…it has gone!” His voice was deep and yet it was trembling.

Lizabet turned back toward the door and then back to the Loper.

“Sir, the door is right
here
.”

But the Loper again looked startled when she put her hand back on the handle of the door. Lizabet was puzzled by his reaction.

“Sir, why are you frightened?”

His eyes had a look of terror in them until Lizabet smiled at him. Realizing this, she kept the expression on her face to relieve him, and saw that the muscles in his wide, thick shoulders relaxed again.

“Young Miss, the door only appears when you touch it, and it is gone when you do not,” the Loper said, with his voice still trembling.

Lizabet looked back at the door, which was clearly visible to her. But she knew that the Loper was not lying. He couldn’t see it himself—of that she was sure, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She held her finger to her lips, silently asking him to keep the secret. He instantly became thrilled, as if no one had ever in his life trusted him to keep such an important secret as this. She was aware of this, but also confused, since she didn’t know what the secret meant herself.

She stepped forward slowly until she was standing directly before the Loper, who towered above her, and presented him with a light curtsey.

“My name is Lizabet Abbot.”

“Lizabet Abbot,” he repeated almost under his breath.

“What is
your
name, sir?”

The Loper hesitated, as if no one had ever asked him that particular question before.

“I am called
Pike
,” he finally answered. “You are Lizabet Abbot.”

Lizabet giggled at the way he had answered her, and Pike’s smile increased at the sound of it. He was gentle—
she
could see that, but his appearance might frighten some, she supposed. Not her, though.

“We are well met, Pike,” she said.

“Yes, very well met, Miss Lizabet…very well met.”

“Is it true that you cannot see the door which I came from?” Lizabet asked.

Pike looked past Lizabet to the door, and answered, “There is no door now, Miss Lizabet.”

Lizabet looked back over her shoulder where she saw clearly that the door was visible. But she knew that he could not see it, and wondered why the door had presented itself to her alone.

“Pike, can you keep a secret?”

The Loper perked up, no one had ever asked him to hold a secret.

“Yes, Miss Lizabet, I can keep your secret.”

“Then we shall never speak to anyone of the door. Can you do that for me, Pike?”

“Oh yes, Miss Lizabet!” Pike exclaimed in a deep, but almost childish voice. He then lowered his voice to a whisper before continuing, “We should not tell anyone of the door.”

“Thank you, Pike. I should be getting back before I’m missed. Would you like to walk with me?”

Pike didn’t answer, but moved out of the doorway so that she could pass. When she walked through and out the door, he followed behind her. He wore large sandals that made a shuffling sound as he walked over the stone floor. They were laced up to his knees over his dark blue trousers.

“You’ve been following me when I explore the castle,” Lizabet said. Pike only continued walking slowly behind her, not responding.

“It’s all right, Pike—I don’t mind,” she said, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “Why do you follow me?”

“I was thinking of you, Miss Lizabet. You smiled at me before,” Pike said with apology in his tone.

“Do people not smile at you, Pike?” Lizabet said with a sad realization.

“No, Miss Lizabet, people smile, but not at me or my brothers and sisters.”

“That is so sad, and must be so lonely, not receiving smiles of any kind.” Lizabet said.

When they reached the double doors that led back into the maintained areas of the castle, Lizabet heard Pike stop walking. She turned to him, and said, “What is the matter? Do you not wish to escort me the rest of the way?”

“I cannot, Miss Lizabet, or they may be angered at me.”

Lizabet thought this to be nonsense, but she was new to this place, even if this was now her new home. She didn’t understand the customs of Obengaard or Bannister Castle, so she would not risk getting the Loper into trouble.

“I see,” Lizabet said. “But I would like very much to be your friend. May we meet again?”

Pike was visibly overcome with emotion and Lizabet understood at once that Pike had never been offered friendship before, any more than he had been offered smiles. Her heart sank.

“Yes, Miss Lizabet, I would like that,” he replied, now gaining height as he turned his weight onto the tips of his toes.

Lizabet smiled and added a curtsey, then opened the door to leave. Pike stood where he was and only smiled before waving goodbye. Lizabet had met many people over the past week, but somehow she knew that Pike would be one of the truest.

****

Although the kingdoms of Mantle would often exchange messages and gifts, it was a rare occasion that the monarchs of the three should come together for a meeting face to face. There had been no war in Mantle for centuries to warrant such a meeting, and such occasions might only take place as a matter of reinforcing relations. Forris, being centrally located between the kingdoms of Bore and Tongar, would most often host such meetings as a practical matter. But even with Forris being the preferred meeting location, King Zander himself had only met the kings of Bore and Tongar on one prior occasion, and that had been when he was but a young prince.

When King Zander was notified by messenger a day before the arrival of King Cergio of Bore, he ensured that preparations were firmly on schedule for his arrival. They might be going to war against the Skites soon, but his subjects did not yet have knowledge of that possibility, and he would not deprive them of celebrations. After all, it might be their last for some time. He had decided, in fact, that he would not make it known to his people that war was on the horizon, until after his marriage to Bella—if it could be helped. If an imminent threat should arise, he would revisit his decision, but for now he would let ignorance comfort them.

He had ordered all available members of the Royal Guard to line the street from the gates of Obengaard to the main entrance of Bannister Castle, and he now stood in the central courtyard, near the city gate awaiting their arrival. Bella and Lizabet, who would be properly introduced at the state dinner that would follow the arrival of
both
kings, now stood on the front balcony that faced the courtyard where Zander was standing. They saw that a large iron cart was off to one side of the courtyard, covered by a white cloth. Forie banners hung on the balconies throughout the city, and flowers had been strewn about on the streets.