The Marus Manuscripts (5 page)

Wild applause followed once more. A beautiful young woman with long chestnut hair and large eyes that darted around nervously appeared in the wings of the stage and was led to General Darien. The king clasped their hands together. Kyle assumed it was Michelle. The king raised his arms, and the people got to their feet again with shouts, chants, stomping feet, and clapping hands. The roar of the ocean could not have been heard in that hall, Kyle thought.

But Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off the king. For all the bravado and praise, Kyle thought that he looked like a very unhappy man.

T
he Old Judge helped Anna into his horse-drawn wagon. He gave her some fruit to eat and then told her to rest while they drove to his cottage in the small village of Hailsham, several miles from the capital. Resting was easy; it was a glorious summer’s day. Anna stretched out to greet the warmth of the sun, which somehow seemed bigger here, and let it soak into her body. She still hadn’t gotten over the dampness of the dungeon. She dozed for a while and only woke up when the wagon wheel bumped a large rock on the unpaved road.

Anna yawned and looked around. Shafts of light shone on the green hills and groves of trees and highlighted the village of Hailsham, which, as she now saw, sat in the center of a valley. It was composed mostly of a small cluster of shops and offices and a few cottages sprinkled around the outskirts. Nearby, the railroad track cut like a scar into one of the hillsides. Somehow it didn’t take away from the beauty, though. The whole scene looked to Anna like the kind of village you’d find on a picture postcard of New England.

The Old Judge’s cottage sat between a field and a forest. It was a simple building, mostly white except for dark beams of timber that ran from the thatched roof to the ground. The leaded windows were shuttered and had window boxes filled with flowers of all kinds. Roses, carnations, pansies—Anna couldn’t name them all. When Anna and the Old Judge had climbed out of the wagon, he lifted the latch on the heavy brown door and invited her in.

The main room had dark paneling, a fireplace, and two comfortable-looking chairs sitting on a colorful carpet. Off to one side were a large hutch and several bookcases filled with books of all kinds. A grandfather clock watched them indifferently, its arm swinging from left to right and back again.

A second room served as the kitchen, with a stove, sink, and open cupboards containing a modest array of dishes and food containers. Anna noted three doors leading to what she guessed were the bedrooms. The main room was naturally cool since the trees from the forest blocked the sun when it was at its highest point. She sighed contentedly. It might have been the most charming place she’d ever seen in her young life.

“After I take care of the horses and wagon, I’ll make us some tea, and then we’ll have a little chat,” the Old Judge said. He went to put the wagon in his small barn and unhitch the horses to run in the field.

Anna sat down in one of the chairs and glanced at the clock. It was 3:02. Without meaning to, she fell asleep again. When she awoke, a small fire was crackling in the fireplace, and the Old Judge was reading a book in the chair across from her. “I’m sorry,” Anna said sleepily. “Did I sleep long?”

The Old Judge closed his book and peered at her over his reading glasses. “Not long,” he said.

She glanced at the grandfather clock. It said it was 5:17. “Oh,” she said, sorry to have slept for more than two hours.

The Old Judge pointed to a cup and saucer and plate on the end table next to her. “I made you a fresh cup of tea,” he explained, “and there are some pastries for you to munch on.”

She thanked him and devoured the pastries. She had forgotten how hungry she was. When she finished eating, she still felt hungry and wondered when dinner would be.

“Would you like more?” the Old Judge asked. “Are you still hungry?”

Her parents had taught her that asking for more was rude, whether one was hungry or not. “I’m okay, thank you,” she said.

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” the old man said. “You’re still hungry or
those
wouldn’t be there.” He tilted his head toward the end table.

Anna looked over and barely stifled her surprise. The empty plate now had several more pastries on it. She looked around to see if the Old Judge had a servant waiting on them. The cottage was empty, however, except for the two of them. She rubbed her eyes and thought,
I must be very, very tired. Or am I still dreaming?

The Old Judge watched her with a fixed smile as she ate two more pastries. “Is that better?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she replied. Her hunger was taken care of, for the moment. She reached over to the end table for her cup of tea and was startled yet again. The plate of pastries was empty.
But I only had two, and there must’ve been seven or eight on the plate,
she nearly said out loud. She bit her tongue, however, and didn’t say a word. She thought she
must
be dreaming.

“Let’s talk about your situation,” the old man said.

“My situation?” she asked.

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she answered. “I don’t even know how I got here.”

“You’ve been chosen for something. You don’t know what it is?”

“No, sir. All I know is that one minute I was in an abandoned house in the middle of the woods, and the next minute I was in the king’s closet.”

The Old Judge took off his glasses. “That’s very interesting.”

Surprised, Anna asked, “You believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nobody else has.”

“We’re surrounded by men of little imagination and no faith,” the Old Judge said wearily.

“I’m not sure that
I’d
believe me,” Anna confessed.

“Do you believe you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I believe you too.”

Anna was genuinely puzzled. “But . . .
why
do you believe me?”

“Because the ancient ways of the Unseen One are full of mystery. Just because your homeland can’t be found on any of our maps doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Obviously
you’re
real, so there must be something to your story. And I know that the Unseen One is real, so there you are.”

“There I am?
Where
am I?” Anna asked.

“In the middle of a wonderful mystery!” the Old Judge exclaimed. “Now, drink your tea.”

“I think it’s gotten cold,” Anna said.

“Is it?” he asked as he put his glasses back on.

Anna reached over for the teacup. It was filled to the brim and steaming hot.

“That’s strange,” she said.

“What is?” the Old Judge asked. His voice was farther away than it had been. He now stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a tray in his hand containing two cups of tea. She shook her head. He’d been sitting in the chair a moment ago. How did he move so fast?

“I must be dreaming,” she said. She looked at the grandfather clock. It now said it was 3:06.

The Old Judge smiled at her. For the first time, she noticed that his eyes were different colors. One was blue, the other green. “Were you dreaming, or are you dreaming now?” he asked.

The celebration banquet in the Great Hall ended, and Darien released his men to go home to their families. Kyle waited, unsure of what to do or where to go. He worried that Darien had forgotten him now that they were back in the capital. But Darien hadn’t. He insisted that Kyle return home with him until they could figure out what to do next.

Darien lived in a manor that the king had given him after he’d defeated the Monrovians in a long, grueling battle. Built in a Gothic style with pointed arches, ornate stonework, and elaborate gables, the manor was on the outskirts of the city, nestled in a cozy corner of the royal forest. It wasn’t as large as it was complicated, with halls and rooms twisting and turning in different directions.

“It has more rooms than I ever expect to use in my lifetime,” Darien explained to Kyle. “I don’t bother with the east wing of the house. The west wing suits me perfectly.” That wing had a kitchen, dining room, library, and four bedrooms. They established that Kyle would sleep in the room that overlooked the garden. It didn’t matter much to Kyle where he slept. He was more worried about his sister and his family. By now he’d been gone for more than a day. Everyone at home would be alarmed. Maybe even the police were searching for him.

In the library, Darien sat down at a grand piano and began to play a tune that, to Kyle, sounded classical. A maid interrupted to take instructions from Darien for their dinner. He simply said to fix him his “favorite.” Kyle wandered over to a tall suit of armor with a colorful shield and a long sword clasped to its side. He could see his reflection in the shiny chest plate.

“We’ll rest tonight,” Darien said as he played. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to see the Old Judge.”

Just then, someone tapped on the glass of the double doors that led into the garden. It startled Kyle, but Darien acted as if he’d expected the noise. He got up from the piano, parted the curtains, and opened one of the doors. Prince George stepped in. The two men shook hands and clapped each other on the back and said the kinds of things men say when they haven’t seen each other in a long time.

Then Prince George saw Kyle and smiled. “So this is the boy who saved your life,” he said.

“He is indeed,” Darien replied. “Kyle, this is our beloved Prince George, the son of the king and my greatest friend.”

“Hi, Your Honor—er, Highness—er,
sire.”
Kyle blushed as Prince George laughed.

“Our servant Damaris is fixing dinner. Are you hungry?” Darien asked George.

George shook his head. “I can’t stay long. My father is expecting me for some state function tonight. But I wanted to talk to you about something urgent.” He darted an uneasy glance at Kyle as if to ask, “Can he be trusted?”

Darien nodded. “Say what you must. We are all trusted friends here. Aren’t we, Kyle?”

Kyle replied, “Yes, sir. I’m in big trouble otherwise.”

The two men laughed, then sat down on a thick red sofa next to the dormant fireplace. Prince George’s face grew earnest.

“I’m here to warn you,” he said. “The king is in a dangerous frame of mind. I’m not sure what has seized his disposition, but it’s something dark and threatening.”

“Are you in any sort of danger?” Darien asked.

Prince George sighed. “I’m not, but you may be.”

“Me?” Darien’s face lit up with surprise. “I’ve done nothing against the king. I’ve served him well, I thought.”

“You’ve served him
too
well. Your successes make him think he’s a failure. Your popularity makes him feel unappreciated. Your acceptance makes him feel rejected.”

“But he’s the
king,”
Darien said.

Prince George nodded. “He’s the king, yes, but he feels that his position is threatened. He imagines that you may be maneuvering your way to become the next king.”

“He is my king as long as he lives!” Darien exclaimed. “I would do nothing to take his throne away from him . . . or you.”

Prince George stood up and paced thoughtfully. “There’s no point in fooling ourselves,” he said after a moment. “I will never be king. You are the chosen one. You will reign one day. The Old Judge said so.”

Darien implored, “He said I was chosen, but never for what or even for
when.
Stop this nonsense, George. I’m a loyal subject of the king, your father. I would not lift a finger against him.”

“I know that, Darien. But my father doesn’t.”

“He used to. He has treated me like a son. Would I spit on that? Would I shove a dagger in the back of a man who treated me so well?”

Prince George moved closer to his friend. “My father isn’t himself these days. You know he hasn’t been the same since his last argument with the Old Judge. He’s fearful and suspicious. I don’t know what they said to each other, but it’s changed my father. That’s why I’m here to warn you.”

The two men gazed at each other silently for a moment.

“Thank you, George,” Darien said softly.

“Surround yourself with only those you trust wholeheartedly. My father has eyes and ears everywhere.” George crossed the room to the double doors and opened one. The smells of the flowers in the garden wafted in. Halfway through the door, he turned back and said, “And, Darien . . .”

Darien faced his friend.

“When you do become king, remember me.” Then he was gone.

Darien was in a thoughtful mood for the rest of the evening. He didn’t eat much of his dinner, which annoyed Damaris because she’d fixed his favorite meal of lamb, potatoes, carrots, and a breadlike pastry that Kyle didn’t recognize. Kyle thought the food was delicious and wolfed it down as politely as he could.

Just as Damaris was clearing away their plates, a messenger arrived from General Liddell. He was a young man dressed in a smart, gray uniform. After a quick salute, he said, “A renegade group from Adria has crossed the border and attacked a town in the Territory of Peace. General Liddell wants you to join him and his brigade in driving the Adrians back into their own land.”