The Southern Trail (Book 4) (46 page)

Itterati was sitting in a comfortable chair, waiting for him.

“Do you like it?” he waved a hand around in the air.  “This is yours for as long as you want.  If you want something bigger, we’ll find a wing of the palace for you.

“The king is very anxious to unlock all your secrets, and find out how far you can go.  He has a certain goal, and his drive has been fired by things he’s heard about the filthy people in the north,” the sorcerer said.

“He wants eternal life, doesn’t he?” Marco asked bleakly.

“Of course!  Who doesn’t?” Itterati asked.  “Yes, he wants eternal life.  Someday, when you have more years under your belt, and the possibility of the end of life seems like a more substantial matter, you’ll understand.

“I’ve done all that I can to extend his life as far as I can.  He’s grateful of course, in his own way,” Itterati said as he stood and walked casually around the room they were in.  “But age is catching up with him very fast, and he wants to know that there is a solution that will keep him alive forever.

“And there are the rumors, from the north, that a woman we were sure was dead, came back to life, stronger than ever.  He’s absolutely obsessed with that news.  He’s sent out more resources than you will ever imagine to try to get to the bottom of the matter.

“And in the meantime, here you show up, right in his own back yard, right within the walls of his own palace – literally, here you are doing all these intriguing things,” Itterati pronounced.

Marco wished that he hadn’t worked so hard to heal those in the palace, or at least a part of him wished that he hadn’t been so blatant in the work that he had done.  He wouldn’t ever want Giselle to return to her disfigured appearance, but he would have been happier had the king not been informed of it.

“So, can you bring the dead back to life?” Itterati suddenly snapped the question at him.

“You’re stronger than I am,” Marco answered.  “If you can’t, then it stands to reason that I can’t.”  It was not a lie, perhaps.

Itterati walked towards the door, assured by Marco’s answer, and his reminder that he knew who had the real power.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the man said as he opened the door to let himself out.

“What is this place?  I want to send a note to Ellersbine, telling her where I am,” Marco explained hastily.  “Where should I tell her to come visit me?”

“For the time being, have her meet you in the harem,” Itterati said.  “”After you’re a little more established here we’ll work our way into more private visits.”  And with that he was gone out the door.

Chapter 36

Marco slept very poorly that night.  He rose from his soft bed before sunrise, and walked aimlessly around his home, wishing that he had not drawn the king’s attention.  He carefully wrote his note to Ellersbine, telling her that they would temporarily meet in the harem, then said no more about that topic.

A servant brought a breakfast to him on a large tray, and took away the note to deliver to Ellersbine.  And then Marco sat and waited for instructions on what to do.  By mid-morning no instructions or visitors or messages were forthcoming, so he opened the door and went for a walk in the garden, noting some plants that would have beneficial value for alchemy purposes.

An hour after noon a message was delivered that Itterati was busy with a project, and would not be able to see him that day.  Marco decided to go explore the palace grounds on his own, but fifteen minutes after setting out, a servant caught up with him to deliver a note that Ellersbine was waiting for him in the harem.

He rolled his eyes at the thought of meeting his fiancée in a harem, and the reactions that would be forthcoming when he had to explain his familiarity with the place, then followed the servant who led him on the long journey afoot through the palace grounds to reach the harem hallway.  Marco thanked the man when he saw the guards who stood before the doors, and he proceeded alone.

“No other man has ever been such a frequent visitor to the harem,” one of the guards commented.

“Believe me, it’s not what it seems,” Marco told the man with a wry smile, making the guards laugh quietly as they opened the door to allow him to enter.

Inside the harem Marco heard the buzz of conversations in numerous rooms down the hall, though no one was present.  He walked over to Madame Lafarge’s office, but found it empty, and so he went to Giselle’s room, in which he heard a lively conversation taking place.  His cable of life energy, connected to Ellersbine passed through the wall in front of him, leading to Ellersbine someplace within the chamber of the woman with the restored face, and through the energy line he could feel an extraordinary happiness.

“Hello?” he called loudly as he leaned his head inside the door frame.

All the conversation stopped, and the sounds of a pair of feet approached, then Giselle appeared.  “What other man’s voice could it be?” she asked rhetorically.  “He’s here!” she said loudly as she tilted her head back to project her voice to others in her room.

“Come in Marco!” she said warmly, linking her arm through his as she pulled him into her chambers.  Inside the room he found Madame Lafarge, Rose, two other girls whose names he did not remember, and Ellersbine, wearing an elegant gown that was lovelier than anything he had ever seen her wear before.

“Marco!  You’re unbelievable!” Ellersbine gushed as she stood up and hugged him loosely.  “Don’t wrinkle the gown, please,” she said.

“Yet!” one of the girls added in a wicked tone that made them all laugh.

Marco looked at Ellersbine, then looked around the room at all the women.  The atmosphere in the room was charged with energy; there was something going on of which he was not aware.

“What is everyone doing here?” he asked simply.

The room was filled with laughter.  “They came to see me,” Ellersbine chided him with a smile and a light slap upon the arm.

“Well,” he told them, “thank you.  She’s a wonderful girl,” he said uncertainly.

“I would hope you’d think so, since you’re marrying her tonight!” Rose laughed.

Marco’s face turned bright red.  “Tonight?” he repeated.  “What do you mean?”

“You know!” Madame Lafarge said.  “We got a note in the middle of the morning from the King’s chambers; your fiancée was coming to see us, the king was going to oversee the wedding ceremony in the palace this evening, and we needed to make sure Ellersbine had everything she needed!”

“I am amazed at you!  How do you do these things?” Ellersbine asked.  “I’m happier than any other person on earth.”

“We’re getting married tonight?” he asked.  “I had no idea!  They didn’t tell me.”

That set off another round of laughter.

“The king’s not forcing you to marry me against your will, is he?” Ellersbine asked archly.

“No, Lord no!” Marco replied.  “I just didn’t know; they haven’t told me,” he tried to comprehend the situation.  “You say the king’s own chambers sent out the notes?”

“Yes, they asked me to come to the palace immediately, and that if I did so, I would marry you tonight!  The ladies here have gotten me dressed and been so wonderful to me.

“And Giselle!” Ellersbine walked over and put her arm around Giselle’s waist, “she told me an almost unbelievable story about what you’ve done for her!  If I hadn’t seen so many unbelievable accomplishments already, I would have said she was crazy!  You’ve made her so beautiful!”

And so Marco and Ellersbine and the ladies of the harem spent hours together talking, as Marco tried to comprehend the kindness and generosity of the king, who was arranging what Marco’s heart craved more than anything else.

As nightfall approached, a female servant came to the harem hallway and summoned Marco and Ellersbine, and one woman to serve as Ellersbine’s maid in the wedding ceremony.  “I had hoped that Rhen would stand up with me, and that Suseen and Sarai and Uncle Mersby and Aunt Grace would be at our wedding,” Ellersbine said wistfully.  “But if Giselle will help me, I’ll still be the happiest woman in the world!”

And so the three of them followed the servant through the palace maze to a new part of the vast complex, a ceremonial chamber that held over two hundred people, and where the king and Itterati stood on a dais overlooking the crowd.

“There are special times in life, and tonight is one of them,” the king said, moments after Marco and company entered the room.  “Even in my long life, some moments can offer great rewards and the memories can live with us forever.”

“Here is Marco, the newest member of my special advisors,” he said as he pointed to Marco, and Itterati made a spotlight shine upon Marco.

“This young man will work directly under Lord Itterati to continue the pursuit of strength and wisdom for our nation.  Many of you have heard of the many recent astonishing activities he’s carried out here in the city since his recent arrival, I’m sure.

“And tonight, we are going to grant him his fondest wish,” the king added.  Itterati made the spotlight shift from Marco to Ellersbine.

“The lovely Princess Ellersbine, a member of my own family, is to be joined with our bright new sorcerer in marriage, and the event is to occur right here, tonight, with all of you as witnesses!” the king announced to the crowd, producing a round of polite applause and cheers.

Marco looked out at the crowd, squinting through the bright lights that were making Ellersbine seem to glow in her gown, a happy smile on her face.  He saw few people he knew, but he did see the scowling face of Argen in the crowd, and he wondered at the man’s presence at his wedding.  The king was evidently sending a message, he concluded.

“And to celebrate this happy occasion, our troops happen to have brought a great trophy to the palace just this evening, almost as a wedding gift for our happy new couple,” Itterati spoke up, stepping forward next to the king.

“We all had heard stories about the perfidious ways of the savages up north, where our army has fought many hard battles in recent times.  And there have been rumors about a superhuman leader, a woman who conspired with spirits, and who even rose from the dead to fight against us in the battle of Athens.

“Tonight, that evil woman now is our prisoner, captured and secured and brought right here.  When our young protégé,” he nodded towards Marco, “is finished with the pleasures of his wedding celebration,” the sorcerer gave a coarse laugh that made Marco and Ellersbine both blush, “we’ll put him to work interrogating our new trophy.

“Please,” he motioned to someone offstage, “bring forth our captive to be seen by the whole audience, so they can see our victory, and know that now nothing stands in our way in the conquest of the north!”

There was a rumbling sound, and a black curtain was drawn back, to reveal the approach of a large wagon.  Itterati swung his spotlight off Ellersbine and redirected it to the wagon, which as it approached the spotlight now shining on the center of the stage, led to the revelation of a cage, one that seemed to be made of crossbars of some peculiar crystalline material.

And inside the stage stood Lady Iasco, a proud and defiant expression on her face.

Marco gasped in horror at the sight, and started to walk forward, his mind whirling with emotion and conflict and confusion, as he vaguely felt Ellersbine’s hand on his arm, while she trailed along with him towards the horrific sight.

As he approached the cage, he saw a shadowy movement, and then Mitment arose, standing up in the wagon, next to the cage.

“Marco!” the spirit called, speaking in the language of the northern lands.  “Help her!  Thank God you’re here! This cage constrains her powers!”

Iasco turned towards him at the same time, and spoke to him in the language of the land of Prester John.  “Do you know who I am?” she asked.

“I do,” he replied in the same language.  “I have my memories.  They came back to me some time ago, I think, though it feels like I’ve lost some of them since.”

“What have you done?  What is that between you and the young lady?” Iasco asked.

“What are you two saying?” both Mitment and Ellersbine asked at the same time, in different languages.

“She asked if I had my memories,” Marco said after a pause, speaking in the language of Clovis to Mitment.  “I do, mostly,” he added.

“Set me free, Marco!  Now is the time when all our plans come to fruition!  We can bring freedom and safety to our lands, and to people everywhere!” Iasco spoke.

“What is happening?  What language do you speak with this creature?” Itterati asked, dimming the spotlight he had fixed upon the cage.

“It is the language of the lands we conquered long ago,” King Moraca said grimly.  “It explains who the sorceress is – she’s the sister that Iago told us of.  The question now is how does our young newcomer know the language?”

“Use your sword!  Ophiuchus’s power will sever these bars,” Iasco urged, switching to the language of Clovis.

Marco slowly put his hand on the hilt of his sword, torn and confused.  He had to help Lady Iasco.  Yet he was on the cusp of his wedding to Ellersbine.  Only one of the two actions was possible – he knew he could not do both, and he was on the stage in front of the king and an audience, his decision about to expose who he was.  Whatever he decided to do, he would seal his fate, and seal the fate of Iasco, Ellersbine, and others, perhaps millions of others.

His hand started to draw away from the sword handle.

“Marco?  What is this?  What’s happening?”  Ellersbine was gripping his arm tightly, concern in her voice.

“It’s a decision,” he said softly, turning to look down into her face.

He saw her smile up at him, love in her eyes.  “I know that you’ll make the right decision.  You always do; I’ll trust you for the rest of my life to do the right thing.”

“For the love of God, Marco!  Save her!  Set her free!  The spirit picked you – did everything for you to be able to protect her!  You brought her back to life to fight!” Mitment screamed.

Marco stared over at the spirit, who jumped from the wagon and ran over next to Ellersbine.   “She told me not to fight to save her – she said she had to be brought here, and you would be our salvation when she arrived!”