The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain) (31 page)

“He doesn’t understand the idea of ‘why,’” Jack said. “He wouldn’t be able to answer that.”

“What will you do, Wytt, if we go back to the city?” Ellayne asked. Wytt slept in her arms every night, when possible. Sometimes he sat on Jack’s shoulder. He’d been with them practically from the beginning of their journeys, every step of the way, and saved their lives more than once. He wore a lock of Ellayne’s hair around her neck. He’d never tried to leave them, and they were sure he would die for them.

Wytt simply ignored the possibility of their going back. “I go find Skinny,” was his answer. Wytt didn’t even know what a king was, Jack thought. To him Ryons was just another human boy. How could he know it was so important to find him? Jack shook his head, completely puzzled.

“You won’t come with us, if we go back to Obann?” Ellayne said.

He planted the butt of his stick in the ground and let it be known that they were to come with him to the forest.

“We ought to go to Obann—but we can’t leave Wytt behind!” Ellayne looked up at Martis. She’s going to cry, Jack thought. “I won’t do it, Martis!”

“No—we couldn’t do that,” Jack said. “Besides, if Wytt says he can find King Ryons, it means he really can. He doesn’t know how to tell lies.”

Martis let out a deep breath. It’s ridiculous, he thought.

“Wytt doesn’t give reasons for things,” Jack added, “but you can be sure he has some good ones.”

“I believe you,” Martis said. “Now all I have to do is find a way to go in two opposite directions at once.” He shook his head. “But my oath binds me to go wherever you go. And it’s very funny—the three of us taking our orders from a little Omah. Anyone would think we’d lost our minds.”

“But what’ll we do with that thing from ancient times?” Ellayne said. “Can we trust the Wallekki to take it back to Obann?”

Martis thought for a moment. “It would solve our problem,” he said. “But the Wallekki are the most superstitious people in the world and easily frightened. I’ll need a delicate touch.”

Kwana and his men came back to camp jubilant because they’d brought down a couple of pheasants. Martis waited until their bellies were filled. Then, “Kwana, my brother,” he said, “the children and I have decided to go on to Lintum Forest, but I think you should go to Obann—to claim a reward for your kindness to us and to take service with the king.”

“We have decided to do that,” said Kwana. “The king at least will feed us.”

“I do have one more favor to ask of you, my friend.”

“It shall be done, if we can do it.”

Martis took a complicated, roundabout approach of the kind so dear to the Wallekki, which eventually led to the proposition that something might look like witchcraft, but not be witchcraft: “Such as when people who have never seen or heard of horses first see a horse and rider. They might think that was witchcraft.”

“By the star that shone on my birth!” said Kwana. “We are by no means as ignorant as that! What is this thing that you want to show us, Martis? We have traveled far and seen many strange things.”

“I will show it to you now,” Martis said, “and I swear by my own head that it is not witchery.” He reached into his pocket. Jack, watching intently, was glad the item wasn’t in his own pocket anymore. He and Ellayne couldn’t understand the Wallekki language, but it was plain from the amount of time it took to get this far that Martis had done his best to prepare them for a shock.

“This is a thing that was made in ancient times,” he said, holding out the relic so they could see it. “No one living now can make such things as this, but it is nevertheless the work of ordinary men. I would like to you take it to Obann and give it to Queen Gurun.”

Kwana looked disappointed. “Why, Omy friend, did you think we’d be afraid of a little thing like that?” he said.

“Because of what it does,” said Martis. “It has the property of giving off light, and it can also show a picture—I know not how. These children took it from one of the Thunder King’s slaves, who was using it to scare people.”

One of the men laughed out loud, but Kwana didn’t laugh.

“Show me, Martis.”

The sun was high in the sky: folly to do this after it began to set, Martis thought. He pressed the knob, and there was light.

Kwana’s men jumped back, fumbled for their weapons.

“Ai! Accursed!”

“There is a jinn inside it!”

“Put it away, my brother. Let us see it no more,” Kwana said. He turned and snarled at his men. “Serves you right for laughing!” Martis stopped the light and returned the object to his pocket. He hadn’t even shown them the picture.

“I believe you, that it is not witchcraft,” Kwana said. “Nevertheless, none of us will consent to touch it, nor have anything to do with it. Upon all the things of ancient times there lies a curse.”

“No one would deny that,” Martis said.

“I think we had a close call,” Ellayne whispered to Jack.

When Martis and the children set out again for Lintum Forest, Ryons and Perkin followed Bandy to the village of Carbonek, which was growing up nicely around a ruined castle in the middle of the forest. Ryons hadn’t seen it in a year.

“Look at that, Perkin! They’ve built all those cabins and laid out all those fields. I think that’s corn they’re growing. I wonder how many people live here now.”

Perkin was too busy restraining Baby to answer.

Bandy waved his arms and yelled, “The king is here, the king is here! Come and see King Ryons!”

They soon had a crowd around them. It included a few people who’d been there from the beginning and recognized Ryons. Perkin wrapped his arms around Baby’s neck and clung with all his strength, praying the nervous creature wouldn’t kick anyone—not that anyone dared to get that close. Whether the king of Obann or the captive bird were the bigger curiosity, who could say? But to Ryons’ disappointment, Helki wasn’t there.

“He went out to hunt some spies from Silvertown,” said a headman among the villagers, “and he hasn’t come back yet. The woods are full of them, he says.”

“Is this really King Ryons?” someone cried.

“Of course it is!” someone else answered. “He’s been here before, you know.”

“What are we to do about that giant bird?” asked someone else. “Those things are killers! What were you thinking, Bandy, bringing it here?”

“My bird and I will camp some little distance from your dwellings,” Perkin said, panting. Baby was testing him, but didn’t exert his full strength for fear of hurting him. “I raised him from a chick, you see, and he’s perfectly tame. But he’s never been around so many people before, and he’ll need some time to get used to it.”

“We’ll need more time to get used to him!” a man said.

The villagers had the rest of the day to get things sorted out, and they did. Ryons, as befit a king, had a place made up for him inside the castle, with a roost for Angel. Men built a corral for Baby, and made sure to build it high and strong, with a shelter for Perkin right next to it. Baby calmed down a bit, once he was fenced in. And in the evening there was a feast for everybody.

“Good old Lintum Forest!” Ryons said, as he dug into a fresh, orange melon. “If only my Ghols and my chiefs were here, too, and Obst and Gurun, and Helki! I do miss them! I hope they don’t think I’ve forgotten them.”

“I don’t think you’re the kind who forgets his friends,” said Perkin.

Chapter 37

A Message to the Oligarchs

It’s a very long way from Obann City to Silvertown, but a team of relay riders can do it in less time than you’d think possible.

Goryk Gillow had such riders, so he knew there were new oligarchs in Obann who wished to rebuild the Temple. This posed a serious problem for him. After some hours’ deep thought, he composed a letter.

To the High Council of Obann,

And to the Governor-General, Lord Merffin Mord,

Greetings in the name of the Thunder King.

We congratulate Your Excellencies on your wise decision to assume the government of Obann & most confidently look forward to the day when there will be lasting peace between us.

We wish Your Excellencies to know that His Worship the Thunder King has built a New Temple to the God of Obann in his city of Kara Karram. As we wish to spare Your Excellencies the crushing expense of rebuilding the Temple in Obann; & as we are now at peace with the God of Obann; & since it has pleased Him to dwell in our New Temple; therefore, we wish our two countries to be as one, in all matters of religion.

We request Your Excellencies to send us presters & reciters & preceptors to serve in the New Temple, at our expense, to the end that there should be one Temple for all nations on either side of the mountains.

Why should there be war between us, when there might be peace, & prosperous trade flowing back and forth between our countries, & new chamber houses being built all throughout the eastern lands? Why should you not proclaim this peace throughout Obann & be hailed as saviors by your people?

We eagerly await your response, knowing that such a peace would indeed benefit us all.

By Goryk Gillow, First Prester

He read it to Mardar Wusu before sending it on to Obann.

“You made no mention of that king they have in Obann,” said the mardar. “Are they such fools, these men, as not to know that the only peace they’ll ever have is submission to us?”

“The problem of the king will take care of itself,” Goryk said, “seeing as how the oligarchs don’t want a king.”

“Why should they serve our master, then?”

“Because our master has the power to reward them for their service. Really, Mardar—what’s the good of our New Temple, if they’re only going to rebuild the old one?”

Wusu frowned. “It sounds to me like we’ll be back to where we started, when our master first invaded Obann.”

“Not at all,” said Goryk. “At least, not as long as they have no temple in their city. Mardar, it will take time to replace the armies that our master has lost in Obann. Time is the one thing we can’t afford to give our enemies. It’s not necessary for them to accept our peace proposal out of hand. If all we manage to do is sow dissension and debate, we’ll have done enough. Sooner or later they must surrender to our master. But why chase the bird, if you can get it to fly into the cage?”

“They won’t do it,” Wusu said; “and I would be a great deal happier if our army held Lintum Forest.”

Goryk smiled. “Oh! I think we can insist that they help us clear the outlaws out of Lintum Forest,” he said.