The Marus Manuscripts (4 page)

“That’s amazing,” Kyle said, wide-eyed.

The fair-haired boy nodded. “Since then, he’s become one of our greatest generals. Ever. The whole country loves him.”

“And it all started with just a pocketknife?”

“A pocketknife and the power of the Unseen One,” another boy said.

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “So who is this Unseen One that everybody keeps talking about?”

“Not everybody talks about the Unseen One,” the fair-haired boy answered. “We do because we believe. But once you get off this train, you won’t find very many people who believe anymore.”

“But what is the Unseen One?” Kyle asked.

The fair-haired boy opened his mouth to speak, but a bell suddenly rang. “The officers want us,” he said, and, quick as rabbits, the boys jumped up and raced out of the train car.

H
er wrists tied with a thick rope, Anna was led by Titus like a dog on a leash. From the palace, they weaved their way through litter-strewn alleys and passages until they emerged in a large market area. At the edge, Titus untied Anna but instantly grabbed her arm in his big hand. “You’ll behave or suffer the consequences,” he said.

She winced at the dazzling sunlight and felt as if her eyes were being assaulted by brighter colors than she’d ever seen before. Titus led her past booths and stalls filled with fruit, vegetables, meat, newspapers, household items, and even live animals. Men in smocks and women in aprons busied themselves with their work, while some chatted idly about the weather and the state of the economy. All had a look and clothes that reminded Anna of pictures she’d seen in her history books of the Civil War. The market smelled of animals and earth, with an occasional hint of freshly baked bread.

Anna hadn’t eaten or slept all night. Though no rats had come to nibble on her, she hadn’t wanted to take the chance that they might. She had spent the entire night awake and hoping she’d snap out of this awful dream.

She pleaded with Titus whenever she had the chance. She told him again and again that he was making a big mistake and even threatened him with what her parents would do if they found out he was treating her so badly. He told her repeatedly to shut up or he’d belt her. But he did let go of her arm.

Halfway across the market, Anna tripped and fell into a puddle of mud. That made Titus angry, and he began to kick at her to get up. She easily dodged the thrusts of his short, stumpy legs. That made him even angrier.

“Get up!” He kicked out harder and harder. She quickly evaded him. He thrust out his leg in the hardest kick of all, lost his balance, and fell into the mud with a large
splat.
If the situation weren’t so serious, Anna might have giggled over how silly the two of them must have looked. A crowd had gathered and did what Anna dared not: They laughed.

“You’re going to get yours!” Titus spat, his face beet red.

Before she could get out of reach, he roughly grabbed her arm. He climbed to his feet, not caring whether he twisted her arm this way or that to do it, and yanked her up. “I’m not sure what your value will be once I thrash you for this,” he growled, “but I don’t care anymore!”

“Help me!” Anna called out to the crowd on the gamble that they might respond. “He’s going to make me a slave!”

The crowd immediately went about their business as if nothing had happened—or was about to happen—to the poor girl. Anna felt the sting of despair as Titus jerked her out of the mud.

“What goes on, Titus?” inquired a low, gravelly voice.

Titus swung around to see who spoke. “What?” he said.

An old man stepped around from behind a vegetable booth. He had a slender, pale face with wild, white hair and a thin beard and mustache. He wore a long, black overcoat that seemed to droop from his skeletal body. Underneath, Anna noticed that he wore a collarless shirt, waistcoat, and old-fashioned breeches, stockings, and shoes—like the people who had lived during the American Revolution. It was an odd contrast to the way everyone else was dressed.

“I want to know what you are doing,” the old man said.

Anna heard Titus’s sharp intake of breath. He recognized the old man. “You’re here!” Titus said. “I thought you were . . .”

“Dead?”

“No, no, of course not. The entire nation would know about that. I just thought that you were . . . were ill.”

“Too ill to come visit our lovely capital?”

“I thought you and the king . . . had an understanding.”

“The king and I have an understanding. But it’s probably not the same understanding. However, there is one thing I do understand: Slavery was outlawed in Marus years ago. Before you were born. How do I know? Because I was the one who outlawed it. Now let the girl go.”

Titus tried to sound tough. “I obey the king and his officers. You have no authority over me.”

“Don’t I?” the old man asked as he took a step forward. Titus stepped back, his grip loosening on Anna’s arm.

“No,” Titus said, less sure of himself.

“Let me tell you a little something about authority,” the old man said with a smile. “It is given, not taken. My authority comes from the Unseen One. From where do the king and his officers get their authority?”

“From . . . from . . .” Titus stammered, but he never found an answer.

The old man held up a finger. “A man your size shouldn’t wrestle around in the mud with small children. It’s not healthy. Your heart might not be up to it. Perhaps you should have a rest.”

Titus suddenly gasped, then collapsed back into the mud. His eyes rolled up in their sockets, then closed, and his massive form relaxed.

Anna quickly moved away from him. “What happened?” she asked. “Is he all right?”

“He’s having a little nap,” the old man responded. “He’ll wake up sooner or later.” The old man stooped to look Anna full in the face. “Tell me your story, young lady. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“You’re not even from this country, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir. You’re correct.”

The old man gazed at her thoughtfully. “You’re not safe here. I suggest you come with me.”

“But . . . why? Who are you?”

The man smiled again. “I am the Old Judge.”

The name meant nothing to Anna, but he had saved her, and that was reason enough to go with him. As she and the Old Judge walked past staring eyes in the marketplace, a train whistle blew in the distance.

“That will be the king,” the Old Judge said.

“The king is leaving?” Anna asked.

“No, he’s just arriving.”

Anna was confused. She had seen the king in the palace the day before. Had he left and was now coming back?

“I’m talking about the
real
king,” the Old Judge said, sensing Anna’s confusion. “The chosen.”

Watching from the train window, Kyle was amazed by the large number of people who had crowded onto the station platform to greet General Darien and his men. They cheered loudly as the train hissed and screeched its way to a stop. A delegation of men dressed in brightly colored military uniforms and hats emerged from the crowd. They looked serious and formal as they waited for General Darien to step from the train.

A train-car door swung open, and Colonel Oliver climbed onto the platform. He was followed by several other officers from General Darien’s regiment. The crowd grew silent as they watched. Then General Darien appeared in the doorway. The crowd went wild with cheers, flag-waving, and applause. General Darien blushed, then smiled and waved. The delegation stepped forward the second Darien’s feet touched the platform. A young man in uniform with wavy dark hair and a thin mustache broke ranks and unceremoniously embraced Darien.

“Darien!” he cried out happily.

“Hello, George,” Darien said with a laugh as they thumped each other on the back with all the affection of close brothers. A military band struck up a tune Kyle had never heard before.

“Sorry about all the fuss, but word got around that you’d made it back safely, and, well . . .” The one called George gestured at the crowds, the soldiers, and the band. “I’m afraid we’ll have to return to the palace with a lot of pomp and circumstance.”

General Darien nodded. “Then let’s get on with it. What about my men?”

“We have cars for them to follow in,” George said. “There’ll be a brief reception in the Great Hall, and then we’ll let you all get some much-needed rest.”

Kyle joined the rest of Darien’s men in large, old-fashioned touring cars. The tops were pushed back so that everyone could wave at the throngs who lined the streets leading to the palace.

Kyle had never seen such a display of affection for a public figure. Nor had he ever seen a city as grand as Sarum. Wide avenues of beautiful green trees and manicured lawns stretched out to majestic buildings of brick, stone, and marble. Some had broad stairs leading up to magnificent porticos and colonnades and the biggest windows Kyle had ever laid eyes on. The avenues spilled
onto circles and squares containing monuments and statues acknowledging people and places Kyle had never heard of. Once again he was struck by how vibrant the colors were.

As the parade of cars pulled to the front entrance of the king’s palace, Kyle looked to the left and the right. Both wings of the royal residence disappeared into a forest and rounded off in a way that looked as if they went on forever. The main building was adorned with a golden rotunda with a statue of an angel on top.

The king’s servants met the entourage and led them through an arched door into an ornate foyer filled with paintings, statues, and a wide marble staircase. Kyle imagined that a tank could drive up those stairs without any trouble. They detoured down a grand hallway lined with more paintings, alcoves with statues, gold-leaf borders, and lamps hanging from carved pilasters.

Finally, they swung off through a double doorway into the Great Hall. It was great indeed, with high walls of carved wood, cornices, ornately framed portraits and mirrors, and tall, triangular windows that seemed to point to an elaborately painted ceiling filled with frescoes of muscular men engaged in battles of all descriptions. The room looked as if it could accommodate hundreds of people without anyone feeling cramped.

Kyle sat with the rest of the troops in chairs facing a stage with wingback chairs and a lavishly designed podium. Kyle suspected by the way the other members of the audience were dressed that the room was filled with dignitaries and officers from other parts of the country. The king—there was no mistaking him with that crown on his head—took the podium and welcomed the soldiers home from their daring adventures. The audience applauded.

The king continued, “It is with great pride that we honor you today. Your escapades have been the talk of all the nations. Our enemies now know that nothing is beyond the abilities of General Darien and his fighting forces!”

At this, General Darien’s men shouted and clapped.

The king waved his arms for the men to quiet down. Then he continued, “General Darien, I believe you have a presentation to make?”

General Darien strode across the stage to another round of applause. When he had reached the podium, he began, “Sire, fellow officers of the royal army, ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to stand here before you today.” He smiled wryly. “I’m proud to stand
anywhere,
in fact. We had some close calls in our encounters with the Palatian officers.” Everyone laughed.

Darien went on, “As you know, I’m little more than a farm boy who has been blessed beyond his dreams. When the king said he would allow me to marry one of his daughters, I felt humbled and unworthy. It seemed that the only way to accept his graciousness was to do something to prove myself. Most of you know that I agreed to bring back the medals of 100 Palatian officers.” He gestured to Colonel Oliver. The colonel and another soldier carried a box forward and placed it on the stage. “Your highness, I’m pleased to report that I have brought you the medals of 200 Palatian officers!”

Pandemonium broke out as the crowd leaped to its feet. The people began to chant, “Darien! Darien! Darien!” over and over. Kyle watched with fascination. He thought for a moment that General Darien could have told these people to do anything—anything at all—and they would have done it. But their admiration wasn’t shared on the stage. Kyle couldn’t help but notice that the king looked sour-faced, as did many of the officers with him. Was it possible that the king wasn’t happy with Darien’s success?

When the noise died down, Darien concluded by saying, “Sire, these are only tokens. But I believe they symbolize the power and determination of your people to serve you at home and abroad, in the luxury of peace or in fields of war. May your name bring joy to
our allies and strike fear in the hearts of our enemies!” The crowd applauded enthusiastically again as Darien stepped away from the podium.

The king’s face worked from a frown into a forced smile. He said, “Thank you, General Darien. Two hundred medals? I’m sorry, but our laws don’t allow for you to marry two of my daughters!” The people laughed as he went on, “You do us a great honor, General. And it gives me added pleasure to announce my permission for you to marry my daughter Michelle, in the Sarum Cathedral,
next Saturday.
”