The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3) (13 page)

“Now Astorax, you know we love you,” Tonelia said, looking straight into his eyes. “You’re one of us, but to the people that don’t know you, well, you’re an attraction.” She smiled affectionately at the loveable man with antlers.

“Yes, well, do go on,” Astorax said. Saxthor saw the blush. “I know there’s a thorn on this rose.”

“We could go to the city gates as a traveling curiosity show,” Tonelia said. “Astorax could act wild and vicious. Two men could restrain the ‘Fierce Beast of the Forests.’” Her imitation deep voice wasn’t convincing, but Saxthor got her point.

“As entertainers, we could get into the city and work our way to the palace. If the act is good enough, we could offer to play for the prince and his court. With such an invitation, we could get into the palace, where Saxthor could slip away from the performance to find a tower.” She looked around the circle for a response. “Well?” She turned up her hands.

“What if we don’t get an invitation to perform at the palace?” Tournak asked. “Then we’d be known in the city and probably watched too closely as strangers to get in after that.”

“Astorax, what do you think of us making an exhibition of you as a curiosity?” Saxthor asked.

Astorax was looking down, scratching in the soil with a stick. He looked up at each one there. “I’ve been a freak for years. If being one now means we achieve the goal, I can play the part. My friends, it’s not like you think I’m a freak, and it’s your opinions that count to me.”

“Does anyone else have a better idea?” Tonelia asked.

“It could work,” Bodrin said. “It’s not like we have another suggestion. Who’ll take the ‘Fierce Beast of the Forests’ into the city?”

“I’ll go so we look non-threatening,” Tonelia said. “Saxthor has to go for his mission. Bodrin and Tournak, you should go to restrain the beast.”

“I can go just as well as Tournak,” Hendrel said, volunteering.

“Too many and we draw attention as potential trouble makers,” Tonelia said. She now turned and tossed a stick on the fire. The sparks flew up and died down.

“Perhaps Bodrin looks too much like a warrior,” Astorax said. “Why not take Hendrel and Tournak to restrain me? They’re older and look more like old farmers trying to make a living as entertainers. Both are wizards and so could be more useful if trouble starts.”

“I like your thinking there, Astorax,” Saxthor said. He nodded and poked the fire.

“Well, I don’t,” Bodrin said. “If Tonelia goes, I go.”

“No, Bodrin, this time it’s better for you to wait here,” Saxthor said. “They’re right. You look too much like the conquering hero. Astorax, Tonelia, to promote the show, Tournak and Hendrel to restrain the beast, and me. That’s who’ll go.”

“But, Saxthor –” Bodrin protested.

“But Saxthor nothing,” Tonelia said. She sat down beside her suitor and put her arm around his waist. He quieted down. “You know it makes more sense this way. You stay here and take care of Delia.”

Saxthor chucked to himself. She knows how to handle Bodrin, he thought. He looked at Tournak, pointed his head at the couple and winked. Tournak’s grin showed he thought so it, too.

The plan was accepted. The group settled down to the evening meal. After eating, Tournak started going through the knapsacks.

“What’re you looking for?” Bodrin asked.

“Ropes,” Tournak said, not looking up from his search. “We don’t have any chains, but we need to play up Astorax’s fierceness to attract attention. A good crowd and response will get the interest of the palace for a performance there.”

At sunrise, they tied chords to Astorax so Tournak and Hendrel each had a rope, restraining the half-man-half-beast. They used their staffs for control, prodding him to the city to perform. With the preparations done, they got on the road, forcing their seemingly reluctant beast to Prertsten.

Still sulking, feeling left out, the indignant Twit ruffled his feathers and dropped his calling card on Tonelia’s shoulder.

“Stop that, you bad bird,” Saxthor said. He flicked the poop off her blouse as Twit flew up in a tree branch. His anger defused and dignity restored, the crusty old bird flew down on Saxthor’s shoulder and rode there to Prertsten.

“What’s wrong with Twit?” Tournak asked. “Maybe he should’ve stayed back there with Delia and Bodrin?”

“You think you could convince him to remain behind?” Saxthor asked.

Tournak looked up at Twit, bobbing up and down with Saxthor’s stride. “I got your point.”

“I think he decided riding in Astorax’s antlers might lend doubt to the ferocious beast concept.” Saxthor reached up and stroked Twit’s breast feathers with his finger. “He loves attention.”

Outside the city walls, the entertainers set up a show for travelers coming and going. The guards at the gate watched Astorax roar, stamp his hooves, and grab at the spectators. From time to time, guards cast nervous glances at the men restraining the beast. When Tournak or Hendrel prodded the monster, Astorax bellowed, lowered his head, and attempted to charge his tormentors before the other man jerked him back. The wild beast, the activity, and the noise attracted a lot of attention. The crowd grew.

Saxthor went to the captain of the guards at the gate.

“Might we enter Prertsten to perform for the citizens? The entertainment would be good for everyone; the citizens, and the garrison.”

“That beast does draw a crowd,” the captain said. “You men don’t look like a trouble. You may enter the city, but remember me when you leave, and share what you make.”

“We surely will, captain,” Saxthor said.

He started back, when the captain’s arm shot out, obstructing his retreat. His heart jumped.

The captain was grinning. “You done good already.”

“We’re poor entertainers, captain, but do accept these coins for your help.”

Saxthor returned to the troupe. He saw from her animation and beaming smile that Tonelia was pleased with the response as she passed through the crowd, collecting copper coins for the performance. Smiling, she showed him the take.

“This might not be such a bad line of work. We’ll eat a hot meal today at least.”

“Smile at the captain as we pass through the gate,” Saxthor said. “We might need his goodwill when we leave, if things don’t go as planned.”

Tonelia looked over at the captain, beaming at her through missing teeth.

“He’s ugly.”

“He’s got a spear and sword and holds the gate.”

“I see your point, or rather his.”

Tonelia complied and once inside, the Astorax bellowed, flailed his arms, and lowered his antlers, as if about to charge passersby. From time to time, he would stamp his hooves on the cobblestones to attract more attention. They performed on different street corners, moving closer to Prertsten Palace. They gave several performances by the palace gates. Once, when things looked like they would quiet down, Astorax pretended to bolt and jerked the rope out of Tournak’s hands.

“Stand clear!” Saxthor said to the fast gathering crowd. “The beast may charge.”

A woman screamed and dashed up the street.

With one of his ropes free, Astorax pretended to charge Hendrel, who fended off the beast with his staff until Tournak could get his rope back and restrain the bellowing beast. The excitement drew the notice of palace guards. Then a person of apparent importance arrived at the palace. Saxthor worked his way to the sedan chair.

“Would the lady like to see a performance of the half-man-half-beast?” Saxthor asked her guard.

The lady appeared aloof until Astorax put on one of his about-to-get-away acts; then the lady couldn’t stop staring. The guards cleared her to proceed into the palace and she was gone.

“We’ve been at this long enough,” Saxthor said to Tournak later in the afternoon. “If we don’t get in soon, the novelty will wear off.”

As he was speaking, a guard came to command them to entertain at the evening banquet, which Saxthor graciously accepted. The guard led the traveling entertainers to the gatehouse, where the officer in charge gave the travelers a serious looking-over. Saxthor made light of things by laughing and joking to dispel any threatening appearance. The captain was Prertstenian, but the guards behind him were orcs.

“You’ll have to leave the hunting knife here,” the commander said to Tournak, who’d already left his bow and arrows with Bodrin. Saxthor felt the captain needed to appear fierce with the orcs looking on.

“But captain, I need this for self-defense in case this beast gets loose,” Tournak said.

Saxthor stepped up. “If this beast should get free and attack the prince, the prince will hold you responsible. He’ll conceal the knife in his boot, and no one will ever be the wiser, if it’s not needed.”

“Well, if it’s to protect the prince, I’ll let it pass. You ain’t got no other weapons, do you?” He handed the hunting knife back to Tournak who stuffed it in his boot and pulled his pant leg over the handle.

“We don’t keep weapons on us, captain. Just the knife and our staffs to defend ourselves from this beast,” Saxthor said.

“Where did you people come from? Ain’t many entertainers in Prertsten.”

“We came from –”

“Sengenwha!” Saxthor blurted out. If Tournak said Heggolstockin, they’d soon be in chains. “We came from there originally, but we were last in a little village on the border.”

“You don’t look like Sengenwhan people,” the captain said. His eyes narrowed and his hand gripped his sword.

Saxthor didn’t know what the officer meant, but the man was suspicious. He had to ease his mind or they’d never get through the gatehouse except in chains.

“What do you mean?” Saxthor asked. He kept his voice calm, suppressing nervous fidgeting.

“Sengenwhan men don’t have blonde hair,” the captain said, watching Saxthor’s reaction.

“That’s what our father said,” Tonelia said, jumping into the impasse. She winked at the captain and slid along the table edge. “Mother insisted that Daddy was Saxthor’s father, but Daddy threw us out anyway, when he was fifteen. Now we just make a living as best we can.” Her smile melted into a pitiful sadness. She batted her eyelashes at the middle-aged man.

As Saxthor admired her performance, he noted the man’s rigid stance soften. He would believe anything she said. The captain looked at Saxthor, then back at Tonelia, who gave him another seductive grin.

“Let them pass,” the captain said. He beamed at Tonelia as he walked back around his desk and, clearing his throat, nodded to Saxthor with a sterner look.

Two guards escorted the entertainers, with their unruly beast, into the palace, delivering them to the attendant in charge of the evening’s feast. The attendant looked them over, and seeing Astorax, nodded.

“This’ll be unusual entertainment,” the man said. “The lady was right, when she told me about finding you outside the palace gates. Come with me.”

The attendant showed the entertainers to rooms off the kitchens. “The kitchen help will bring you food,” he said and he disappeared.

“Bodrin will be furious when he hears he missed a palace feast,” Tournak said.

“We’ll have to enjoy it for him. We can tell him details later,” Tonelia said, winking at Tournak.

Attendants deposited food platters in front of them. For Bodrin’s sake, of course, they ate everything within reach. Saxthor was worried. How would he to get to tower battlements in the moonlight. Would the moonlight be strong enough to unlock the message in the necklace’s loop? He’d risk trying to look over the castilyernov in the daylight.

“You there,” Saxthor called to a passing kitchen helper. “Do you suppose I might take a look around the castilyernov?”

“I think not,” the man said, his stance rigidly upright at the suggestion. “The prince can’t have people just wandering around in the castilyernov.”

The kitchen helper walked off still looking back at Saxthor, rejoining his gluttonous companions.

“I’ll have to wait until they take us up to the banquet hall to sneak out to a tower. How I’ll do that, I don’t know.”

Still chewing, Tonelia covering her mouth, “We’ll entertain; you find a way.”

That evening after Prince Pindradese feasted with his guests, he called for the performers. Saxthor hid the Peldentak Wand in his cloak, and with his troupe, followed their guide to the great hall. Guards ushered them in to perform for the prince, whose impatience showed in his frown and agitated state.

Saxthor entered first and stood by the door, surveying the banquet hall. The chamber was a good three stories tall with massive stone pillars flowing upward to capstones carved as celestial dragons. Vaulting arched to the ceiling center, where they met in a coiled dragon poised to strike at the hall below. A dark blue ceiling with silver stars filled in between the rib and enormous tapestries depicting victorious battles embellished the high walls. Behind the dais was a magnificent carved dragon coiled on a rock. Its staring head froze a warning scream with flared tendrils and a forked tongue shooting through rows of fangs.

“Dragons everywhere,” Tournak said.

“There’s an ominous tone to the chamber,” Saxthor said.

“Be careful.”

As Saxthor studied it, the attendant tapped him on the arm. “The great dragon represents the prince, his strength comes from the Rock of Prertsten.”