Terrible Beast of Zor (5 page)

“That is wisely said. Meantime, I will take your friends to your quarters.”

As the others moved on down the hall, Joshua nodded to the guards. “I think we’d like to go in now.”

A guard knocked on the door, then opened it. He called out, “Two visitors for you, my prince.”

Josh and Sarah entered and saw by the window a tall young man with thick, long auburn hair. He had a well-shaped face and blue eyes. He was perhaps a little heavy, but he looked strong and fit.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

“My name is Josh Adams, and this is Sarah Collingwood, Prince Alexander.”

“What is your business with me?” the prince asked coldly.

Sarah spoke up. “We have come at the request of your father. He sent a letter to Goél for help, and Goél sent us. Are you familiar with him?”

“Of course. My parents serve him, and I suppose I will someday.” Prince Alexander stared at them, and puzzlement came to his eyes. “But why would my father send for
children?
I can understand sending for soldiers to fight. But what good can you do?”

Josh almost asked, “What good are
you
doing?” but he bit his tongue while Sarah answered. “We have been able to help others from time to time. You may have heard of the Seven Sleepers …”

Recognition came to the young prince’s eyes, and he grunted. At that moment a small dog bounced barking into the room from an opposite doorway. She was a golden-haired dog with bright eyes. The prince picked her up. “Be quiet, Shasta,” he said, stroking her silky fur. Then he nodded slightly. “Yes. I have heard of the Seven Sleepers. Tall tales, I’ve always thought, about fighting with monsters and winning battles. I can’t believe two such as you could do much of that.”

Josh suddenly decided that straight talk might be the best in this case. “My prince, I must speak to you in a most open manner. Part of the reason we are here is that you have not fulfilled your responsibilities.”

Anger leaped into the eyes of Prince Alexander then, and he snapped. “It’s none of your business what I do or what I don’t do!”

“It’s the business of your father and your mother. It’s the business of the Council and the business of all of your people. They are all depending on you, and, unfortunately, you have not been dependable.”

“Get out of here!” the prince shouted. He walked toward the door, carrying the small dog in one arm and muttering under his breath.

Sarah followed him, pleading, “Prince, just listen to reason. We truly just want to help.” She spoke for some time, but Josh could see that she was doing no good. Finally she lost her temper. “You call yourself a prince? You’re a spoiled brat!”

The prince turned on her so quickly that his long hair whirled. Again he yelled, “Get out of here!” Then he opened the door and said, “Guard, take these people out!”

“You don’t have to do this,” Josh said rather sadly. “Think it over, prince. Your country needs you. It’s no time to sit up in a tower and pout.”

“I’ve heard enough from you both. Now get
out!”

As soon as they were down the hall and out of hearing of the guards, Josh said bitterly, “There’s no help for him. He’s worthless.”

Sarah did not answer for a moment, but then she said quietly, “There’s hope for everybody, Josh. And I did wrong to get angry. There’s hope for everybody.”

S
arah drew the bow to full strength. She held it there for two seconds, standing as still as a statue carved out of rock. Then she released the string. It slapped the gauntlet on her left arm, and she heard the arrow as it whizzed through the air. It flew straight and true, and, as always, she felt a thrill when it struck the center of the target with a solid
clunk
.

“A fine shot, Sarah!” Alcindor stood to her left, nodding his approval. His piercing gray eyes were warm as he said, “You are a fine archer! I have seldom seen better.”

Sarah flushed at the praise, and again she admired the tall form of the friendly aide. Alcindor seemed such a fine young man, and the thought came to her,
How much better it would be if he were the king’s son, instead of that Alexander!
She certainly did not say this aloud, however. She stepped back to let Alcindor take his turn.

He drew a heavy bow with a much stronger pull than Sarah’s, and she watched as he loosed the shaft. It did not quite strike the center of the target, but the power of the large bow and his strong arm drove it in up to the feathers.

“Not dead center like yours.”

“But if it had been an enemy, that would have made no difference,” Sarah replied. “You place great importance on archery here in Madria.”

“It has been our salvation,” Alcindor said. “That
and the mountains.” He rested the tip of the bow on the toe of his sandal, and his eyes grew serious. “We are not a numerous people, and we could not meet an army with swords. We would be overwhelmed. So every Madrian begins to draw a bow almost before he can walk. It is the national sport and pastime here as well as our chief means of defense.”

“I’ve seen some of the younger ones practicing. Almost like babies with tiny bows. They take great pride in it, don’t they?”

Alcindor nodded. “Yes, indeed.” His face clouded over then. “I wish you had brought with you a thousand as good with a bow as yourself, Sarah.”

“Perhaps that would not have been best. It’s well for people to fight for their own liberties, don’t you think, Alcindor?”

“I do agree. But still, we are hard-pressed here, and what I wouldn’t give for at least a hundred good, strong archers—like yourself. Your companions—I perceive they are not as good with a bow as you are …”

Sarah was embarrassed. “I may be a little better than some of them, but they are all good at other things. Jake, for instance, can invent anything you want. He can shoe a horse, make a knife—anything like that. And Reb, he is a horseman such as there never was. He could ride anything on four feet.”

Alcindor listened as Sarah sang the praises of her companions. He said, “You are a modest young lady, and I honor you for it.”

“Alcindor, what was the prince like as he was growing up? You knew him when he was younger, didn’t you? You’re about the same age.”

“Know him? I grew up with him. We were raised together. My father was one of the king’s most faithful
warriors. So we were put together when we were very young.”

“Then what was he like when he was growing up?”

Alcindor gave Sarah an odd stare. “Why do you ask this, Sarah?”

“Well, I hate to say anything bad about the prince, but he doesn’t seem very interested in assuming his responsibilities.”

“Unfortunately, you are right.”

“Was he always as … as self-centered as he is now?”

“Indeed, no! I truly don’t know how he came to be what he is. He was always warmhearted, generous, and very able. If he were to give himself to being a soldier and leader the way he gives himself to following pleasure, he would make a fine king indeed.”

“What do you suppose happened to him?”

“Who can say?”

“But something must have.”

“I can’t put my finger on it. Until he was through boyhood, he was as fine a boy as you would want to find. But when he came into young manhood, perhaps he began to listen to the praises of the people around him. The wrong people. They wanted things from him, and they flattered him in order to get what they wanted. And they taught him to follow gambling, drinking, partying. I tried to talk to him, but he just laughed at me. Everyone has tried.”

Sarah stroked her bow for a moment, thinking. Then she did say, quietly, “I believe you are more a son to the king than Alexander.”

“I am not of the royal family,” Alcindor said at once very firmly. “The people want a king of royal blood—as well as one who will fight for them.” The sorrow that
Sarah had seen in Alcindor before was again reflected in his eyes. “I do not know if we will ever see that man.”

Dave and Abbey went for a walk outside the palace and for some time wandered about the grounds, admiring them. They had just come from a visit with Prince Alexander. Josh had suggested that all the Sleepers, at one time or another, attempt to win the confidence of the young prince.

As they strolled along, Dave said, “I don’t know what to make of him, Abbey.”

“Isn’t he the handsomest thing!” she exclaimed. “That hair! Any girl would envy it!”

“Well, he may have beautiful hair, but you can’t get around one thing—he’s sulking.”

Abbey, who usually hated to say anything bad about anyone, tried to defend the prince. “He just needs time to grow up.”

“Time to grow up! He’s eighteen years old. He’s a man. He’s had plenty of time to grow up.”

“He’s physically
grown up, but—well, I’ve got confidence that someday he’ll be the kind of man on the inside that he should be.”

Dave walked on beside Abbey. He knew she was impressed with good looks more than she should be. After a while he said, “I know a lot about sulking, Abbey. I’ve done some of it in my day. Haven’t you?”

Abbey made a face at him. She started to answer but then nodded toward the stranger walking up to the palace door. “Wonder who that is, Dave. He doesn’t look like he belongs here.”

Dave did not mind asking questions. They were passing a guard, who greeted them, and Dave said, “Say,
soldier, who is that man going inside? Do you know?”

The guard, a short man with a round face and guileless blue eyes, said, “His name is Rondel.”

“Is he one of you? He belongs here?”

“Oh no. He’s a foreigner. He came to the palace a little while ago—on business, perhaps. No one knows much about him.”

“What sort of business?”

“It’s not for me to know that.”

“Is he a friend of the king?”

“Not that I know of. He’s a friend of Count Ferrod and the countess, though. I believe he comes to see them.”

“Thanks for the information.” Dave walked on with Abbey. “For some reason, I don’t like the looks of that fellow.”

“I don’t, either,” Abbey said. “He looks like … something evil.”

Rondel entered the reception room of Count Ferrod. He waited until the attendant closed the door, then said without another moment’s hesitation, “Things are going badly. I’m disappointed.”

“We’re doing all we can, Rondel,” Count Ferrod said. “What do you expect?”

Rondel did not answer that question. Instead, he asked another. “When did these Sleepers come here?”

“Just a few days ago. What about them?”

“The Dark Lord is their deadly enemy, and they are his!”

“They are only children,” the countess said. “They are no danger to anyone.”

“Others have said that before and learned to their sorrow that these so-called ‘children’ are more deadly than they seem.”

“I can’t believe that!” Ferrod exclaimed. “They are not even out of their midteens!”

“Power is not always a matter of years. Some old men have no power at all. These ‘children,’ as you call them, are the servants of Goél.”

“Servants of Goél! I didn’t know that,” Ferrod said, looking shocked.

“The Dark Lord would find it
acceptable
if they were put to death.”

Now both the count and the countess appeared shocked by his words. Ferrod said, “We would have no reason for that …”

“That would be up to you to find. I will say that the Dark Lord would be pleased if they were all sunk in the deepest pit with tons of rocks on top of them.”

The count and the countess were silent for a moment. At last she said, “What will happen next, Rondel?”

He stared at the two of them as if weighing them in the balances and then said, “The prince is your enemy as well.”

“Our enemy! How can that be?” the count cried.

“The king is obviously too ill to lead his people. Perhaps, hopefully, he never will be able. I do not think he will live long. But if he dies, the crown will go to Prince Alexander.”

“Of course. That is our way.”

“He is a worthless infant, and everyone knows it. He would ruin the kingdom in six months.”

“I have always said that,” the countess spoke up. “He is not fit to rule.”

“But he will rule,” Rondel said, “unless you take steps.”

“What kind of steps?” the countess asked, her eyes fixed on their visitor.

“The prince must die. If he is dead, the way to the throne will be open to you. You are the only male relative, Count Ferrod. You must court the elders of the Great Council. They must be willing to support you.”

“Dethenor will never do that. He hates me,” the count said.

“Then it might be well if he too were to disappear.”

“You mean—have him assassinated?”

Rondel lost his patience. “This is a
war
, Ferrod! Don’t you understand that? Men die in wars. Women die. Even children.”

He glared at them, and a silence fell over the room. He watched the countess more closely than he did the count. “Get rid of him,” he whispered. “Use poison if you must. Make it look like some sort of illness.”

Ferrod turned pale and did not answer, but the countess suddenly straightened up. A glitter came to her eyes, and she said, “It shall be done.”

As Rondel gazed at her, an agreement seemed to pass between them. Without another word, he whirled and left the room.

As soon as their visitor was gone, the countess went to her husband. She put an arm around him, and he turned his gaze to meet hers.

“If you would be king,” she whispered, “you must be willing to pay the price.”

“But to do away with the prince—”

“The cost of the crown is high. Do you want to be king or not?”

“You know that I do.”

The countess took a deep breath. “Then put this matter into my hands, and all will come out well.”