The Marus Manuscripts (18 page)

General Liddell worked his jaw, clenching and unclenching his teeth. “Of course,” he said with open sarcasm. “Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“I want our armies to stay right where they are for the time being,” the king suddenly commanded. “Don’t move. Not an inch, not a muscle. I have to find someone to consult with.”

“Like who?” General Liddell looked as if he might slap the king if he mentioned the Old Judge again.

“There’s a woman. I don’t remember her name. She has the power. We’ll visit her, and she’ll tell us what to do.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, yes. Don’t be so thick. She lives near . . . Dorr. That’s it. I can find her if we go there.” The king stopped pacing and leaned over a table with a map on it. He pointed. “That little town right there.”

General Liddell didn’t bother to look. “You’re going to leave your troops
now
? Sire, with all due respect, if they see you leave, they’ll panic.”

“They won’t see me leave. We’ll disguise ourselves. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll disguise ourselves, go to the woman, then come back. Just tell the men that we’re in conference and can’t be disturbed.”

“Sire, please—”

“No! Stop arguing with me!” the king screamed. “We have to go! We have no hope of winning if we don’t go!”

Anna woke up, alone in the desert. Something made a chirping noise nearby. An owl hooted.

Was this a dream to report to Darien? She wondered. Nothing in it would help them with their decision to stay in Adria or join the king’s troops. Then again, maybe she simply couldn’t see it. She made her way back to Darien’s headquarters. It was deserted except for Colonel Oliver, who was locking the door. He informed her that General Darien had gone off somewhere to think and pray. Whatever she had to tell him would have to wait until morning.

She thanked him and walked to the room she shared with Kyle at the Lizah Hotel. It was dark.

“Kyle?” she called out as she lit a lamp. “Are you here?”

She looked around, her hand brushing against a piece of paper on the table in front of her. It was a note from Kyle.

“I’ve gone to see someone who will help us get home,” the note said in his distinctive cursive. “I’ll be back in a couple of days. Then we’ll go home!” He had underlined
go home
in heavy strokes
.

Anna sat down in a chair and buried her face in her hands.

T
he sun hadn’t fully risen yet when someone knocked on the door. Anna, who hadn’t slept all night and was still fully dressed, padded across the room.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Darien,” the familiar voice said.

She opened the door, and before he could say anything she thrust Kyle’s note into his hands. He read it, then frowned. “He needs a good kick in his backside,” he growled. “It’s the wrong day to do something like this.”

“You made a decision?”

“I think so,” Darien replied. “Unless you have a message for me. Have you had any dreams lately?”

Anna told him about the dream of King Lawrence.

“What am I supposed to make of that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Anna said, distressed.

Darien went to the window and looked out on the street. Colonel Oliver was beginning to assemble the officers and community leaders below. “Your dream may be the confirmation of my decision. The king is obviously losing his grip. He’s not capable of fighting the combined allied armies. He needs our help.”

“No,” Anna said. “That may not be the message at all. Maybe it means to stay away. Maybe you should wait until—”

“Until what, Anna?” he shouted at her. “Until the Palatians have conquered our country?”

She winced as if he’d struck her in the face, her eyes tearing up.

He checked himself and continued more quietly. “What you mean is that you want me to wait until Kyle comes back. I can’t do that. Whatever we do, we have to do quickly. Right now.”

“I understand,” Anna whispered.

“I’ve decided that we won’t stay here. All the civilians will go back to where we camped in the Territory of Peace. You’ll be as safe there as anywhere.”

“What about your army?”

“We’re going south to join the royal army,” Darien said. “We have to help them fight against the Palatians. It’ll be a massacre otherwise.”

“What if King Lawrence has you arrested—or you’re killed?” Anna asked.

“Then we’ve all been terribly misled and the Unseen One didn’t really choose me to be king.”

The Rat and Kyle took a night train from Lizah to Krawley. From there they caught a train that took them south to Sarum. They arrived the next morning, just in time for a connecting train to Dorr. Kyle slept most of the way, though he awoke with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I hope I didn’t make a big mistake,” he said.

“Do you think it would be a mistake to find your way home?” the Rat asked.

Kyle didn’t answer.

The Rat glanced at a map on the wall of the Dorr station. “Only a few miles’ walk,” he said, “then you’ll have your answer.”

An hour later, they passed the post office for Wollet-in-Stone. “I know this place,” Kyle said. “This is where we picked up Anna after she escaped from the convent!”

Five minutes later, they were standing outside a wooden shack with a tin roof. A red palm was painted on the doorway. “That’s the sign of a seer,” the Rat said. He knocked on the frame since the door was hanging wide open. “Hello?” he called.

Someone shuffled and banged inside, as if the person had been startled and tipped something over. An old woman, older than any Kyle had ever seen, appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on the skirt of her peasant dress. A tattered shawl hung like cobwebs from her shoulders. “Yes? Anastasia, I am,” she said. “What can I do’s for ye?”

“The boy needs to talk to you,” the Rat explained. “About matters of another world.”

“Come in and sit ye down! Sit ye down!” she said, clearly delighted.

Kyle followed her in and immediately regretted it. The place was a dump. The woman scooted a skeletal cat from one of the chairs and positioned it next to the table in the center of the shack. Kyle reluctantly sat down, then noticed that the Rat hadn’t joined them. He stood in the doorway.

“Come in,” Kyle said.

“This is your affair, not mine,” the Rat said. “I’ll meet you at the station when you’re done.”

Before Kyle could say anything, the Rat was gone.

“Matters of another world?” Anastasia asked.

Kyle surveyed the room. Besides the obvious dirt and trash, he noticed an old, faded carnival poster hanging on the wall. “Anastasia the Mysterious” the headline read in large, curly letters. The woman in the painting bore little resemblance to the old, shriveled person in front of him, however. That woman was dark and beautiful, with wild hair and eyes that probably caught the hearts of many men.

Anastasia cleared her throat. Her hand was held out for payment.

“Oh, sorry,” Kyle said. He dug into his pocket, found his last dollar, and gave it to her. “I hope that’s enough.”

She held up the greenback and giggled. “Money from the other world. Oh yes. I’ll add it to my collection, I will.” She opened a small tin confectioner’s box. Kyle thought he caught sight of an American nickel before she shoved the dollar in and closed the box up tight.

“I want to go home,” Kyle said when Anastasia turned her attention to him once more.

“Home! Yes, yes. We all want to go home. Give me yer hand.”

He held out his hand to her. She took it quickly, then just as quickly let it go. Her face looked as if she’d been jolted with electricity. “No. Ye are tricking me, ye are.”

Kyle was confused. “What do you mean?” he asked.

The old woman had the tin box open again and was fumbling around for the dollar. “Ye are not true. Ye should not be here, no.” She threw the dollar back at him. “Go! Hurry!”

“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked as Anastasia came around the table and nearly pulled him from the chair. “You’re supposed to help me.”

“I cannot help ye. No. Why didn’t ye tell me ye were a chosen protector? Are ye trying to kill me?” She pushed him to the door, stopping only when the sound of approaching horses could be heard above her gravelly commotion.

“Tell you—” Kyle was bewildered.

“It’s too late!” the woman cried. “It’s too late!”

The horses were reined to a stop next to the shack. Two men dressed in what looked like monks’ hoods climbed off and strode toward the door. The woman stumbled backward and slumped
into her chair. Kyle looked at Anastasia, then back at the two men. They yanked their hoods off. King Lawrence and General Liddell walked in.

“Oh no . . .” Kyle said.

“Oh yes,” General Liddell replied, then backhanded him. Kyle was halfway to the ground when Liddell grabbed him and yanked him back to his feet. Dazed, Kyle tried to speak, but he couldn’t. He felt a sliver of warm blood trickle from his mouth.

“Do you know this boy?” King Lawrence asked.

“Don’t you remember him?” Liddell replied. “He was with Darien.”

The king’s eyes came alive. “Is he the boy they keep talking about? The one who keeps saving Darien’s life?”

“Saved him from my marksman in the Territory of Peace,” General Liddell growled.

“I remember now. We met at the palace. Or at the Old Judge’s cottage. Or somewhere. How nice to meet you again,” King Lawrence said with a smile. “Your timing couldn’t be better.”

“He’ll make a wonderful hostage,” Liddell said.

The king glared at his general. “Hostage! You’re mistaken, my friend. He will be my aid and my assistant!”

“Sire—”

The king continued, “He’ll be
my
protector. My own lucky charm! If he saved Darien, he can save me! This is wonderful!” The king’s face was aglow, like a child who’s just found all the answers to an important test ahead of time. Then he suddenly looked confused. “But what’s he doing here?”

“Nothing, my lord,” Anastasia said. “We were just chatting, that’s all. Talking, we were. Passing time away, la-di-da.”

The king pushed Kyle toward a chair. “Sit down, my protector,” he ordered. “Your visit here may be—
must be
—providential. You
may give this old charlatan a little help. A boost for her failing powers!” He laughed, pulled up another chair, and sat down.

He’s insane,
Kyle thought.
The king has gone completely over the edge.

Anastasia said fearfully, “Powers, my lord? I’m just an old woman trying to make her way through life. What powers?”

“Oh, be quiet,” General Liddell said. “We know what you are, though I don’t believe in it myself. The king wants your advice.”

The king cocked an eye at her. “You don’t think I know what the red palm means? You think I don’t know about you? I’m the king of this country, and I
know.
” He brought his fist down against the rickety old table. It nearly collapsed. “Now tell me what I must do! Tell me and
be right,
blast you!”

Anastasia fumbled around for a moment, picking up a deck of cards, then putting them down again. She then reached for a small gold pendant, thought better of it, and put it back. “I’ll need a moment, I will.”

“
Now,
hag,” General Liddell said from his place by the door.

Anastasia had a new idea. “Dark,” she said. “It must be dark. Close the door, you must. Pull the drapes.”

“You pull the drapes,” Liddell said as he closed the door. “I wouldn’t touch them with a 10-foot barge pole.”

“Pull the drapes, General!” the king shouted.

Liddell obeyed grudgingly. The shack was now in a hazy darkness. Light still peeked through the spaces and holes in the wall’s wooden planks.

“What now?” the king asked.

“Close your eyes,” she said nervously.

She’s stalling,
Kyle thought. He wiped the side of his mouth, which now felt numb. The bleeding had stopped. Through his half-closed eyes, he looked around to see if there was any way to escape.
Liddell was still standing next to the door. The only door. There was no other way out.

“What do ye want to know?” Anastasia asked.

“Will I be victorious against the Palatians?” King Lawrence asked.

The old woman stammered, “The Palatians. Oh yes. Them. Victorious. Well . . . I think . . .”

“I don’t care what you think!” the king growled. “I want you to ask
him.”

“Who?”

“The Old Judge!”

“No . . . please. I can’t call the Old Judge. Calling him would be like . . . like . . .”

“Asking for the Unseen One?” the king said. “Yes, I know. Now call him! He’ll tell me what I need to know. Say his name.”

“No!” Anastasia cried.

King Lawrence reached across the table and grabbed her by the throat. “Say his name!”

“No one has said his name in years!” she shrieked.

“Say it!” he screamed at her. “Say it! Say the name!”

Anastasia gasped as the king tightened his grip around her throat. She had to say the name or die, that much was certain. So she said it in a hoarse whisper. “Samuel.”

“Louder!”

“Samuel!” she screeched.

The king let her go and looked around. “Now what?”

She whimpered and fell from the chair to her knees. “No!”

“What do you see?”

“It’s rising from the earth,” she said. “An old man in a cloak.”

The king spun around. “Where? I don’t see it.”

Kyle had no idea if what he saw next was something that
appeared to his eyes or to some other senses, but it was definitely the Old Judge. But he didn’t appear like a ghost or a spirit, nor did he appear as a living person. He was a presence that seemed to fill the room, standing at all points simultaneously, no matter which way one turned.

“Why are you troubling me?” the Old Judge asked, annoyed.

The king’s voice trembled, not from fear but from relief. “Ah!” he said. “The Palatians are going to attack, and I don’t know what to do. You were my last friend—my only friend—and I need your help. Tell me what the Unseen One wants me to do.”

“Why do you ask me now?” the Old Judge asked. “I have told you all there is to know. You have turned your back on the Unseen One, and so He has taken the kingdom from your hands and given it to another. You have not obeyed. You have not believed. You did not remain faithful. Now it is too late. You have led the people of Marus to disaster. Death waits for you!”

The king threw himself to the ground. “No, Samuel! No! Save me! You must save me! Samuel!”

The Old Judge held up his hand. “Speak my name no more,” he commanded. Then it was as if he turned to Kyle, though he didn’t actually move, and he said, “You are in bad company, boy. You should have had faith. You should have been patient.”