Treachery of Kings (4 page)

Letitia obeyed, opened the crafted lid and gently set Finn's work on the marbled table before the Prince.

Muttered whispers greeted the marvel. Courtiers crowded forward to get a better look, each one giving the illusion they were quite familiar with what there was to see. Each, however, holding smiles or frowns at bay, waiting for the Prince to lead the way.

The Prince, alone, did not move at all, but only studied the object with his eyes. Shifted his gaze from the left to the right, from the bottom to the top, then started all over again. He muttered and wheezed, cleared his throat, rolled his tongue about his cheek.

Finally, he said, without looking away, “I am astonished, Master Finn. Truly I am. It's a marvel, a wonder, a miracle of the age. I find that I am stunned, stupefied, awed at your genius, partially impressed. What, sir, exactly is it, then? You must tell me that?”

The Prince, then, let the hint of a smile escape his lips, enough to draw approval from the crowd.

“Why, it is a timepiece, sire,” Finn explained, with all the patience at his command. “A timepiece in the shape of a lizard, if you please. As you ordered, sire. The lizard, you will note, is rampant, upon its hind legs. In its right foreleg, it holds the banner of the House of Aghenfleck, and in its left, the pennant of Llowenkeef-Grymm. Its snout is agape to display its silver teeth and red-enameled tongue.

“Its eyes are set with emeralds, and each individual scale, on the body and the entire surface of the tail, is crafted of gold. The timepiece itself, as you see, is set in the belly of the lizard. The numbers are formed of rubies and sapphires, and the hands are carved of precious shell. The whole of the face is protected with the finest crystal glass. The delicate works, the tiny cogs and gears, the wires and the hummers and the wheels, are deftly packed inside.

“It is, I trust, as Your Grace intended it to be. Or, surely, as close as my poor talents can come to the vision you conveyed to me.”

“Hmmmmmph.” The Prince scratched his chin. “What do you think, Count?”

“Quite nice,” VanDork answered at once. “As Master Finn says, I believe he's caught at least a bit of Your Grace's creative drive, a flame of your inner fire—”

“Yes, indeed. Go sit somewhere. And do something about your breath.”

“I believe that simpering fool Llowenkeef will like it,” the Prince told Finn. “Fellow's daft about clocks. They
say he's got clocks everywhere. Eats with clocks, goes to
bed
with clocks. At any rate, it's his bloody birthday, can't forget that.”

The Prince frowned. “How does the thing work, how does it go?”

“One sets the tail in motion, sire. It acts as a pendulum, swinging back and forth. Upon the hour, the jeweled eyes roll about, the snout opens, and it makes a, ah— crackly sort of sound. If Your Grace will allow—”

“No, do nothing of the sort. I abhor things that move or make any kind of sound.

“I will say, Finn, it's a pleasure to see you making a rather decent-looking lidert these days”

“Lizard, sire.”

“Yes, what I said. Not at all like that nasty creature you carry about. The one, you'll recall, that tried to bite my leg. I am still displeased about that.”

Finn showed no expression at all. Julia Jessica Slagg had, indeed, reacted to the Prince in much the same manner as nonmechanical creatures. In other words, she loathed His Grace on sight, and somewhat lost control. Finn had managed to stop her in time, and, thus, likely preserved his head.

“It was the most regrettable moment of my life, sire. A tiny mote of dust where none should be. It would never happen again in a hundred lifetimes, I hope Your Grace understands that.”

“Better
not
happen again,” the Prince muttered. “Best you confine yourself to liderts that do something useful, Finn. Like swabbing out muskets, grinding trash and such. Making things that tell the time, right?”

“I could not agree more, sire.”

“Good, good,” the Prince said, shaking his head so the plumes atop his hat swayed in the breeze. “One thing more, Finn, and I'll see you on your way. A thing of great import, a duty to your Prince. A—What, what the devil
do you want, Count,” the Prince said, scowling at VanDork, “I'm quite busy here.”

“Your pardon, sire, indeed.” VanDork leaned close to the Prince's ear. In an instant, the Prince broke into a merry smile, stood up straight and threw his hands in the air.

“Here, all of you, come see. They're going to mush old Baffleton-Kreed!”

A
VOLLEY OF CHEERS ROSE FROM THE ROYAL
sycophants. If Lord Gherick had not appeared at that moment, Finn was sure he and Letitia would have been trampled beneath the crowd.

“Quickly,” Gherick said, drawing the pair aside. “You'll be safe over here.”

“Safe from what?” Letitia asked, bewildered by the sudden turmoil in the hall.

Gherick didn't answer, but urged them on until they were up against the far wall.

Finn drew in a breath. In an instant, the great room was empty, for everyone there had followed the Prince to the gallery that overlooked the courtyard below.

“Can't we see too?” Letitia complained. “I didn't understand, dear. What is it they're going to do?”

“If I'm not mistaken,” Finn said, “it's something you very much want to miss.”

Gherick's expression told him he was right. The Prince's brother glanced at the ceiling with a sigh.

“They're executing His Grace's Keeper of the Mead,” Gherick said. “Aghen's been out of sorts with the fellow for some time, though I can't see why. Nothing wrong with his ale, near as I can tell.”

“Oh. Oh, my,” Letitia said.

“Chopping Day is a strain on everyone, Miss. My
brother
will
have it on SpringFair, though. Says it keeps the people on their toes, and I suppose it's so.”

“I'm not sure it's worth it,” Finn said, “just for crackle pie and cheese. Letitia makes it better than anyone here.”

“How kind of you to say so, Finn.”

“It's quite true. And the tarts are doughy here as well—”

Finn's voice was lost as a terrible, desperate wail arose from the courtyard below. A cry of such pain, agony and torment the hair nearly stood straight up on Finn's head.

“I'm going to be ill, Finn.”

“Don't,” Gherick said. “You mustn't do that here. Aghen doesn't like that sort of thing at all.” “I'll be fine,” Letitia said.

“Please do. If I'm anywhere around, he's inclined to blame me.”

“Why should he do that?”

“Why not? Why do you think I stay out of town?”

“Good reason, I suppose,” Finn said.

“Damned if it isn't. Pardon my language, Miss.”

“No offense. You are most kind, sir… “

Finn looked up to see the Prince returning from the gallery, the crowd all a-chatter at his back. Count VanDork whispered something in his ear, and the Prince broke out in a hearty laugh. More than a chuckle or a snort, close to a guffaw.

“Exhilarating, marvelous! Make a note, VanDork, we must have another mushing quite soon. Next week, no later than that.”

“Wonderful idea, Your Grace. I'll see to it.”

“Finn, should have had you out there, something a fellow doesn't see every day. You should stay for the show tonight. We're roasting old Bechidal, my worthless seer. Fellow can't cast a simple spell anymore.”

“You're too kind, sire.”

“True. I am indeed. Now… Oh, back to you, then. One more thing and we'll have you out of here. VanDork, that what's-his-name. The, uh—Damn your hide, do I have to do everything myself? Get him in here!”

VanDork disappeared. Finn could see the Prince was clearly on the edge of irritation. Gherick had told him more than once—and everyone else appeared to know— that Aghen Aghenfleck could not pursue the same subject more than a moment and a half. If he did, sweat began to form on his brow and dangerous thoughts popped into his head. As His Grace turned on Finn, it looked as if that might be happening now.

“Do you see what I have to put up with, Finn? I have to do everything myself. None of these—worthless louts can lift a finger if I'm not—not—You see? Nothing's happening, everyone's just
standing
there, waiting to see what
I'm
going to do. Why can't I have a simple trade like yours, Finn? Why? Why—can't—I—ever—be—
me!”

The Prince pounded out his words on the arm of his chair. Gherick muttered something that Finn couldn't hear.

Then, as quickly as this murderous mood had struck, it was just as quickly gone, as something new appeared before the Prince's eyes.

A collective sigh swept through the crowd. From an anteroom behind the Prince's chair, a giant, a pillar, a mountain of a creature came into view. Save for the monstrous Grizz, the Bullie was the largest of the Newlies, the nine beings changed from the animals they'd been before.

And, like all of the Newlies, the Bullie kind retained some reminders of their past. This fellow was tall, hulking, broad-shouldered, immense across the chest. His neck was thick and his eyes were the color of muddy glass. Short, stumpy horns were nearly lost in his braided hair.
His great arms were covered with lewd tattoos, and he wore a golden ring in his nose, some rite from ages gone.

“Ah, here's the one, Finn. Enormous brute, is he not? What's your name again, I can't tell you fellows apart.”

“Bucerius, sire.”

His voice seemed to come from some great hollow in his chest. It was clear from his expression that he didn't like the Prince at all, and didn't care if anyone knew.

“You hear him, Finn? His name's Bucerius. I expect you can remember that.”

“Why, yes, Your Grace,” Finn said, puzzled at the question. “I'm certain that I can.”

“Good. Yes. Well, I—believe that's all, is it not? You may leave now, Master Finn. I have much to do and— Damn you, VanDork, now what?”

“I would merely remind Your Grace…”said the Count, bending close to the Prince's ear.

“Ah, yes. Well. Here's the thing, Finn. You and what's-his-name here, you will deliver this timepiece gadget of yours to King Llowenkeef-Grymm, in Heldessia Land. Personally, mind you, no nattering dolts and hanger-on types like VanDork here. Right into that miserable person's hands.”

Finn stared. “Heldessia? Sire, we're at war with Heldessia. How could I possibly do that?”

“Of course there's a war, Finn. There's always a war. You telling me I can't send a birthday present to that damned oaf because there's a
war
on? Are you daft, or what?”

“Sire, how could I possibly get to the King's court? I mean, if you were truly serious, and this wasn't a magnificent bit of humor on Your Grace's part?”

“Easy, friend,” Lord Gherick said, so softly no one else might hear.

“Why, the same way everyone gets there. By balloon, of course. Master Finn, I fear you're not listening to me.”

Indeed, at that moment, Finn could hear nothing at all. Nothing, it seemed, but the terrible silence where his heartbeat used to be

slice ‘im up

cut ‘im up

rippity-split!

  crack ‘im up

  rack ‘im up

  chop ‘im up a bit!

H
AND IN HAND THE CHILDREN DANCED, DANCED
in dizzy circles, danced around their fires, danced in the shadow of the great high towers, danced in the gloom of the fast-approaching night. Happy little urchins, cheery little waifs, raggedy-muffs with runny noses and bright shiny eyes. They danced and they sang and they circled about in the empty courtyard, round and round and round and round about…

And, when the story was done, they all fell down, screamed and wailed and thrashed about. Choked, croaked, stuck their tongues out in horrid parodies of death. Laughed till they cried, shrieked with great delight. Got up and started all over again. …

• • •

F
INN SCARCELY NOTED THIS GRIM EVENT, WAS
hardly aware of the empty stalls and tents, the clutter and the waste, the foul and odorous remains of Spring Fair and the Chopping of May.