The Gorgon's Blood Solution (29 page)

“That’s your sling.  Put it on and put your right arm in it,” Folence ordered, then she helped him put on stockings and boots.

“That white shirt will show off your medal nicely,” the priestess murmured as she inspected him.  “You know,” she replied to his puzzled look, “the Duke will award you with a medal for all your valiant service.”

Marco rolled his eyes, and saw that Folence smiled, the first sign he could remember that she had a sense of humor.

They rode in a carriage to the palace, and arrived in the early evening, before sunset.  As soon as they left the grounds of the temple, Marco heard the humming murmur of the evil energy resume.  The rhythm of its chant instantly raised Marco’s blood pressure, as he recognized that it was again calling out to evil powers elsewhere, inviting them to come to seize him.

He looked over at Folence.  She was dressed in a regal blue robe, and wore a headdress that made her seem to be a queen in her own right.  She sat rigidly, looking neither right nor left as the carriage carried her and her unwilling ward towards the palace.

Within minutes they arrived at the palace gates, and the carriage of the priestess was immediately admitted, ahead of a long line of other carriages that waited in line to attend the ball.  Marco declined assistance, and climbed down from the carriage on his own, looking about from the porte-cochere in hopes of seeing Mirra waiting for him.  She was not present, but several court servants escorted Folence and Marco through the palace to a waiting room.

The building was large, and grand.  Marco was distracted by the increasing volume of the murmur that came from the evil energy within him.  He considered admitting the problem to Folence, but refrained, fearful that she would take him immediately back to the temple grounds before he could see Mirra.

“So, do you remember much about your last stay here?” Folence asked as the two of them sat in a pair of comfortable chairs.

“No,” Marco admitted.  “I remember running away, and that’s about all.”

“It’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful palaces in the Western kingdoms,” she told him.

Just then the door opened, and Folence stood up with an elegant poise that impressed Marco.  He turned to see that the Duke had arrived.

“I’m so glad the two of you are here,” the nobleman said in a booming voice as he approached them.  “What’s the point of having a ball to honor someone when the guest of honor can’t attend?” he laughed.  He bent over the hand of Folence, then looked at Marco critically.  “Her ladyship appears to have kept you alive, and I’m glad of that.  I certainly owe you thanks for saving the city twice now, young man.”

“I’m honored to be able to serve,” Marco said nervously.

“We’ll want to introduce the two of you after most of the ordinary guests are already present.  The staff will bring you down the main staircase, and you’ll have to deal with all the dreadful chatting and small talk.  That’s why I wanted to see you now, to tell you how sincere my gratitude is,” the Duke said.

“Are Kilson and Mirra going to be here?” Marco asked.

“Oh of course!  Kilson is my right hand man, and he’s had an extra spring in his step providing hospitality to that young beauty of yours these past few days.  You won’t be able to keep him away from dancing with her,” the Duke said jovially.  “Now excuse me.  I’ll see you soon in the hall.”  And with that the Duke was gone.

Marco sat and stewed over the thought of Kilson continuing to shower gifts upon Mirra.  The girl had lived a life of deprivation until these past few weeks.  Now, Kilson was showing her wealth and gifts and a genteel life that Marco couldn’t begin to offer.

“Shall we go?” Folence interrupted his dark thoughts when a servant came to lead them to the ball.

The sorcerer’s energy within him seemed to jump with excitement, and Marco tried to covertly place his left hand inside the sling to feel the lump of evil power.  It had moved!  It felt warm, and seemed to quiver with energy.   Marco felt his stomach flip with fear and tension.

“What’s happening?  What’s wrong?  You’re as white as a sheet,” Folence immediately recognized his state of anxiety.

“It, it’s moving,” Marco stuttered.

“We need to get you back to the chapel immediately,” Folence said sharply.  “Would you go have my carriage brought around?” she asked a servant in the hallway.

“No, I’ve got time.  I just want to see Mirra,” Marco insisted.

Folence rolled her eyes at him.  “Think with your brain, not your heart – or anything else,” she snapped.

“Let’s just hurry through this,” Marco was full of fear, but still determined to at least see the girl he cared for.

“We’ll hurry through this,” Folence said through gritted teeth, and they began to pace down the hall.  The murmuring of the energy was growing louder, and then Marco felt a painful ripping shock to his arm, bad enough to make him stumble; without even looking he knew the evil swelling had moved again.

He gathered himself together and refused to meet Folence’s eye as they turned a corner and descended a staircase, then stepped into a small room, where Marco suddenly realized that Kilson and Mirra were waiting for them.

Mirra was a vision of beauty.  Her hair was swept up on top of her head, with delicate white flowers woven into it artfully.  Her shoulders were bare, and her gown was a subtle shade of blue, with matching gloves that reached from her fingers to her elbows.   There was make-up lightly applied around her eyes, making them seem even larger and more entrancing.

“Marco!” she said affectionately.  “You look so handsome in those clothes,” she stepped away from Kilson and over to him.  “I’d hug you, but this gown is so tenuous I’m afraid it would fall away,” she giggled momentarily.  “Are you well?  You look pale.

“I brought you something,” she told him.  She went to a corner of the room and returned with his sword, set in a beautifully worked leather scabbard.  “Here let me adjust it for you,” she delicately reached around him, standing only inches in front of him as her arms encircled him to ring the scabbard around his hips.

Marco stared into her eyes, mesmerized.  “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered.

“I’ve missed you too,” she told him, and he was pleased to see a spark of genuine affection in her eyes.

She looked down and buckled the belt tight.  “There,” she said as she stepped back, and took her spot next to Kilson, “now you look like quite the proper gentleman hero of the court.”

“He does,” Kilson heartily agreed.   “Quite the dashing young squire, ready to go out and learn about the world and to do more good deeds.

“Will you ladies excuse us?” Kilson asked.  “I have a quick question for our boy hero.”

Folence looked skeptically at Kilson.  “I’ll not wander far from my ward,” she said sternly.  “I’ll be right out here in the hall, and the door stays open so that I can see him,” she warned as she stepped out with the servants and Mirra.

Marco looked out at Folence, then looked at Kilson, who put his arm around Marco’s shoulder and turned them to face away from Folence.

“Marco my boy, that girl is extraordinary!  She’s a real beauty, and her heart is sweet as honey,” Kilson told Marco in a low voice.  “I’ve enjoyed showing her a taste of the life among the people of the palace, and everyone here is in love with her!

“You are still very young, and not ready to settle down.  You’re not in a position to make her life as easy as I am able to.  There are a lot of things you need to do in life before you settle down.  Me,” Kilson thumped himself on the chest.  “I’ve gotten all that out of the way.  I can be a steady breadwinner for her, and treat her like a queen.

“Why don’t you move out of the picture, real gentle-like, and let me give her the life she and that little baby of hers deserve?” Kilson finished making his pitch.

Marco looked at him incredulously, then shrugged off the arm around his shoulder and turned to face Kilson.

“There’s not a chance in Hell!” he said vehemently.

“The witches are going to take you away from here any day now.  You’re never going to see her again anyway.  Why don’t you make it easier for her by letting her go, so that I can comfort her?” Kilson said.  “You know Folence has a charter ship waiting at the dock to carry you away at any moment, don’t you?”

Marco looked at Kilson, then looked through the doorway at Folence, who was watching him intently. 

Just then the door to the ballroom opened, and a servant stuck his head in.  “We’re ready to announce the guests of honor,” he said.  “It’s time to go.”

Folence immediately stepped back into the anteroom and placed her arm through Marco’s.  “We’re ready,” she replied to the servant.

“We’ll get announced, we’ll mingle for a little while, and then we’ll get you back to the temple grounds.  You don’t look well,” she commented as they stepped towards the door.

Marco looked back over his shoulder, to see Mirra stepping next to Kilson.  She waggled her fingers affectionately at Marco as he left the room.

“Are you taking me to the chapel, or are you taking me to a charter ship to ship me back to the isle?” he demanded of Folence.

The lady’s step almost faltered, but then they were at the top of a staircase, looking out across a vast room, the largest room he had ever seen.  The space glittered with candles and crystals and mirrors that spread light widely and evenly, so that Marco could see individuals standing far and near, men and women wearing elaborate clothing that was worth more than Marco had even imagined.

The ceiling was elaborately decorated with murals and gold leaf.  There was a row of small windows, framed by ornate short columns, that raised the central ceiling from a surrounding lower level, and a balcony row was midway between the floor and the ceiling.  An orchestra played music at the far end of the hall, in front of a nearly-empty dance floor.  The sight was an extraordinary one that sent a thrill through Marco’s spirit.

“The honored guest of the evening, the apprentice alchemist Marco, whose discovery of a cure for the plague saved the lives of thousands, and whose mortal combat with the Corsair sorcerer prevented a devastating raid on our fair city from succeeding.  He has recovered from his wounds, and is here tonight, a Knight of the Palace and the champion of all who need help!” a herald’s voice boomed impossibly loudly, and set off a boisterous round of applause.

“Now we descend the steps,” Folence cued him, and they began to slowly step down each step of the staircase.

The energy in his arm moved so wildly that Marco jerked and winced while halfway down the stairs.  Folence’s fingers dug into his left forearm, steadying him.  “Is it the evil?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” Marco breathed heavily.  “It’s active.”

“You’ll only be here five minutes, then we go,” Folence reassured him.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, where the Duke stood waiting for them.

“Let everyone here know how pleased I am to be able to host this event in honor of Marco, whose heroics had saved our city from disasters.  To show my gratitude, I bequeath upon him and his heirs the Marquisate of Sant Jeroni, an ancient hunting estate in the mountains that was a favorite place of my grandfather.  I have very fond memories of hunting there with him when I was a child, and I give those memories to you with a smile,” the Duke graciously said.  A hearty cheer rose in the surrounding throng, upon hearing word of the Duke’s generosity.

Marco felt a stunned silliness that spread a wide smile across his face.  Even through the distracting sound of the murmuring evil, which was growing louder and deeper in his ears, the thought of being made into a nobleman was beyond imagination.

“Your grace is too kind to the boy,” he faintly heard Folence say.  The murmuring was more than a distraction now; the sounds were evolving to become distinct words.  They remained just a fraction of perception away from being understood.

Folence squeezed his hand, redirecting his attention.  He refocused his eyes, and looked at the grinning Duke.  “I cannot tell you how surprised I am, your grace,” Marco stumbled to say.  “I’m just a poor boy; I never dreamed of anything like this.  I just wanted to help make people’s live better, and to fight the evil.”

At his last phrase the lump in his arm grew warm with anger.

“It is because I so seldom hear of such goodness of heart that I wanted to reward you.  And it may be that you will say I have done you no favor when you see the lodge in the mountains!” the Duke laughed.  “My grandfather complained from September until May that that lodge could never be warm enough!” he laughed heartily enough to raise a chuckle from those around him.  “And my grandmother complained that it was too far from the city.”

“Now mingle about Marco, and all of you,” the Duke ordered.  “Eat some food!  Drink some wine!  Chase some girls – oh, pardon that last,” he chuckled.  “This ball is in your name, so enjoy.”

“
Here!
” Marco suddenly understood the words that the evil was broadcasting.  “
He is here.  Come and get him.  The power is here,
” the murmur was loud in his ears, louder than some of the voices of nearby partiers.

“Can you hear it?” Marco pressed his mouth against Folence’s ear to softly ask, as they began to stroll through the crowd.  “I can hear the evil calling.  It’s telling other evil where I am, and to come get me.”