Scarlet From Gold (Book 3) (40 page)

The dome slowly rotated, becoming a bowl, with its open end facing upward, and then it floated over to the open window that Marco had noted earlier.  The window was high above the floor, one of several opened to create a natural flow of warm air out of the audience hall.  In the case of the window that Marco had in mind, it also provided a way for something to come in.

He pictured the stables he had seen on the palace grounds earlier, then squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to imagine all the manure that collected in the stables, the muck that had to be shoveled out and hauled away every day.  He focused on the manure, and imagined his powers making it fly – upward – it a narrow stream.  He could imagine he had a rope that was pulling the manure towards the open window, and he hauled in strong, short jerks on the rope as he made progress just one short distance each time he heaved.

There was a sudden shout from the audience in the hall, and Marco looked up to see his stream of manure pouring into the transparent bowl, coming in gushing waves of filth as his efforts to move the odiferous mess succeeded wildly.  Marco hastily closed his eyes again and focused on stopping the delivery, willing the remaining manure to stay put in the stables.  He opened his eyes and saw that his bowl was already nearly full, while he knew that more manure was en route through the air.

Just one step ahead of panic, he focused on the upside down shield, and increased its size, making it a larger bowl, and watching as the incoming stream finally diminished in size and volume, then quickly ceased altogether.

The result was that over a ton of manure floated above the floor of the audience hall in the center of the palace.  Marco motioned his hands again, making the bowl start to move, as all eyes watched it warily.  Already, the audience hall was starting to become permeated with the odor of the large heap of manure that eased across its width, while the load came to stop at a point that was high, and directly above the Grand Prince’s throne.

“Can you close it off completely?” Cardinal Savoy asked.

“Let me try,” Marco answered, and he focused on turning the bowl into a ball.  He willed the sides to grow further, and to come together; within seconds, the shield sealed itself into a uniform, seamless ball, completely enclosing the manure it held.  Marco then let the container drift several feet lower, until it was a visibly ominous weight hanging not far above the head of the Grand Prince.  The man looked extremely uncomfortable, Marco thought, as he sat and stared open-mouthed at the Damoclean object above.

“Allow me to do one more thing,” Marco spoke, and then he focused on developing a stiff breeze that swept through the hall.  There were gasps and sudden movements throughout the hall as hats were blown and skirts flew upwards momentarily, but as soon as the smell of the manure was cleared out of the hall, Marco dropped the breeze back to placid, still air.

“So, your majesty,” Colonna began to speak, as though there was nothing further to mention regarding the hanging manure, “the reason we have come today is regarding this request for an army.  The Blessed Virtuous Sorcerer, Golden Hand, will be with your army providing assistance and protection to the fighters who participate in this holy and sanctioned campaign to set Athens free.  You cannot doubt his abilities now, can you?”

The uneasy prince looked from Colonna to Savoy to Marco.  “Shall we complete your demonstration and remove this object first, before we go on further with this discussion?” he asked.  “You may dismiss this object.  I think every member of the court is suitably impressed with what you can do.”

“As a matter of fact,” Colonna spoke, “I’d like to leave this here until the day comes that I see your troops in Malta, joining the other troops of The old empire,” he told the prince.  He paused, and waited, as the meaning of his threat sunk in, while an audible murmur rose in volume throughout the hall.

“Surely you tell a great jest,” Neapole spoke loudly to Colonna, then looked at Marco.

“We have many obligations, your highness,” Cardinal Savoy answered.  “We’ll leave you now, and return tomorrow to discuss further the matter of your contribution to this united force, to be led by the High Priestess of Ophiuchus and commanded by the Duke Siplin of Barcelon.  With your permission, good day,” he said, then discreetly nodded for the others to follow him as he took a walk back out of the audience hall.

“That was stupendous!” Colonna laughed as soon as they started walking through the palace, on their way to recover their horses.

“My lords!” a voice called, and they turned to see a courtier virtually running after them, moving as quickly as his dignity allowed.

“My lords,” he gasped when he reached them, “the Grand Prince would enjoy the opportunity to speak with you.  Would you kindly follow me to his private chambers?”

Colonna and Savoy exchanged glances.  “It would be a privilege,” the Cardinal answered, and they walked some distance through the palace to reach a small, empty room where they were left to look out the windows at a beautiful view of the city and the harbor below the palace.

Moments later, the Grand Prince entered the room, alone.

“What do you gentlemen want, really?” he asked immediately.

“We want your army,” Marco blurted out.  He’d left all the public speaking to the two older diplomats, and been happy to do so.  But he felt that the mission was his, as given by Iasco, and he wanted to speak his piece.

The Prince looked at Marco, and then at the other two.  “How can one who is so young be given such great powers?” he asked.  “Just tell me what you really want, and I’ll arrange it, so that you can make that horse manure leave the palace.”

“The service of your army is what we really want,” Colonna answered.

“My army is worthless!  My generals pocket most of the money that is supposed to be spent on equipment and training!” Neapole answered.  “I’ve got only half as many soldiers as I report, and most of them are young, raw recruits.”

“Then you won’t miss them,” Savoy said suavely, “so load them all up on boats, with supplies, and with your generals, and send them all to Malta, as soon as possible.”

“And if I do, you’ll remove the manure?” Neapole sought confirmation.

“Once Golden Hand sees them in Malta, he’ll be much more likely to undo his work.   But I wouldn’t wait too long,” Colonna answered.  “That bubble will spill open after a while if he doesn’t do something to move it out.”

“This is outrageous!” the Prince shouted.  “I should have you all arrested and thrown in prison!”

“Do you really think you should do that – or could do that – to a sorcerer?” Cardinal Savoy asked in a mild tone.  “What do you think he would do?

“What would you do, Golden Hand?” he turned to Marco to ask.

“I would withdraw my powers from the ball holding the manure, first, so that I could use them as I needed,” Marco answered.  “Then I’d probably turn all the gold in the kingdom into tin, and I’d make the sun never shine here.”

“Could you make all the men impotent, and fill the women with lust?” Colonna asked.  “I’d like to know when to come visit!”

“Of course the Holy Father would eventually ex-communicate you, or at least discipline you,” the Cardinal added “if you did the last part.”

“Would your people rise up against you in those circumstances?” Count Colonna asked in an innocent voice.

“Stop it!  You’re blackmailers!  You can’t get away with this!” the Grand Prince was dark in the face, his passions were so great.  He looked at them all, then stormed out of the room.

“Well, I think we’re going to get an army,” Colonna said mildly.  “That was easier than I expected.

“Could you fill all the women in the kingdom with lust, by the way?” he asked Marco.

“He is a virtuous sorcerer, so of course he would not,” Cardinal Savoy answered promptly.  “Let us leave the palace now.”

The next morning, after breakfast, they rode to the palace once again, where a weary-looking Grand Prince received them in a different audience hall.  He seemed intent on keeping them waiting on his attention, as he sat upon a new throne and listened to reports from various functionaries.  After several minutes, Count Colonna whispered in Marco’s ear, making him nod.  Seconds later, a new shimmering bowl appeared overhead, next to a window.

The members of the court looked upward nervously, but the Grand Prince determinedly refused to look.

Seconds later there was a bursting sound, as a window up high broke open, and the glass fell into the bowl.  Seconds later, a dark stream of manure flew into the room, starting to fill the great, floating container once again.

“That’s enough!” the prince unexpectedly screamed, causing people to jump.  “That’s enough blackmail and mistreatment of my people.  I will surrender, but only for the sake of my people; I will send my army to Malta as soon as possible to join your campaign against Athens.”

Marco cut off the stream of manure coming into the room, then reversed the flow.  The audience began to cheer as the brown contents of the bowl began to lessen, and then empty out of the shield completely.

“The other reminder of the Virtuous Sorcerer’s power will remain here until he sees your army in Malta,” Cardinal Savoy spoke.

“We thank you for your generous contribution to the commonwealth,” Colonna spoke up.  “Your graciousness will be remembered.  Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ll leave you to the business of preparing your army to fight a war.”

Marco waved his hand in the air, and the empty bowl of energy overhead vanished, then the three visitors left the palace and returned to their inn.

“Gentlemen, it has been a great pleasure to join you in such fruitful diplomacy,” Count Colonna spoke.  “I do not intend to go on to Malta, so I will tell my servants to prepare for our departure northward, back to the Lion City.  I expect we’ll see you there again someday, young prodigy, won’t we?” he asked Marco.

“I hope to come back and visit my friends there again soon after all this is over,” Marco answered.  He squeezed the Count’s hand vigorously as they shook farewell.

“Count, you’ve been a true asset.  As an ambassador, you are without equal,” the Cardinal told Colonna.

“And you as well,” the count grinned back, as they parted ways.

“I’d enjoy the chance to travel with you to Malta, if you don’t object,” Savoy told Marco.

“I’d be very glad to have a friend along for the journey,” Marco said sincerely.

Chapter 25 – The Gathering at Malta

Marco stood in the bow of the ship that Cardinal Savoy had secured for their trip to Malta.  The island was a distinct dark spot on the horizon, and the ship was approaching it rapidly.

They had sailed for two days since their quick departure from Nappanee, where neither Savoy nor Marco had any wish to remain any longer than necessary.  The name – and purse – of the Holy Father had secured them passage upon a small vessel that had sailed rapidly through calm waters to the island.  Marco was beginning to feel like he was at home upon ships, even though he knew nothing about the mechanics of the vessels; he’d repeatedly sailed with Ophiuchus and with Iasco and on his own various seaborne trips in recent weeks.

He was eager to see Malta, and to see if Lady Iasco was there already; he wanted to let her know about the success of his mission in the Lion City and in Nappanee, as well as tell her about the disturbing ruse that the counterfeit Laris sorceress had played in the Lion City, nearly derailing his efforts there.

In a sense, he was even looking forward to seeing Mitment again.  The spirit treated him with much less respect than anyone else did any longer, and a part of him appreciated the opportunity to feel like an ordinary person.  Since his arrival in the Lion City, he had been treated like anything but.  Mitment would show him little respect, in a good way.

Malta would be his chance to find out the details of what the Lady Iasco intended to do, and what his role would be.  He longed for answers, especially if the Lady told him a plan whose end was clear and in sight, so that he could know he was destined to soon return to Barcelon, all adventures over, and Mirra waiting for him to settle into life at Sant Jeroni.

The ship swept onward, and Malta grew larger on the horizon.  Cardinal Savoy came up onto the deck to join Marco once he heard the crew discussing the approach to the harbor.  The Cardinal was pale-faced, not a comfortable sailor, and he looked forward to stepping onto solid land once again at Malta.

The Cardinal’s comfort was delayed.  As they approached the mouth of the harbor they discovered that it was congested. Numerous ships were either at the docks, or waiting for turns to reach the docks, as an occasional vessel left the harbor and emerged to go back out to sea.

“There is another small harbor on the other side of the island,” the captain informed Savoy, and the ship was soon on its way to the place that offered the fastest opportunity for the cardinal to set foot on land.  The other harbor was so small that the passengers on the ship were placed in a longboat with all their belongings and rowed to a rickety pier, but for Cardinal Savoy the creaking wooden planks were as solid as the earth itself.   He smiled in relief as they waved good bye to the longboat that returned to the chartered ship, and then Marco carried their bags up to the small inn that was the only lodging in the fishing village.  He was aided by young boys, who scampered about in the excitement of strangers coming to their village.

“We’ll spend the night here, then plan to go to Valletta,” the Cardinal told Marco.  They spent the evening at the inn, and early the next morning they unceremoniously began to walk across the width of the small island nation, following a road that was mostly a wide path across the rolling, wind-swept hills of the Malta countryside.

They walked for two hours, under skies that were mostly sunny, except when small, puffy clouds raced overhead, and as they approached late morning, the two travelers reached a hilltop that looked down upon the valley where Valletta lay situated on a peninsula encircled by its bustling harbor.