Treachery of Kings (21 page)

“Go sit somewhere and turn yourself off. It's nearly dawn, I've got to get some sleep.”

“How were the clocks?”

“Loud. Irritating. That's the nature of a mechanical device.”

“I'm sure you don't intend to hurt others with your barbs. I suppose I'll let it pass.”

Finn shed his clothes and sank wearily into bed. Letitia was sound asleep, and he was grateful for that.

Not that I've done anything. Not that I have a thing to regret…

He knew, of course, the truth of the matter was you didn't
have
to do anything with DeFloraine-Marie to earn
a sackful of guilt. Before he'd found true and lasting love with Letitia Louise, Finn had encountered a number of human females of every shape and size, from the loving and the kindly to the outright nasty and mean.

And, within this gender, he had learned there were some who were a race, a tribe, a breed unto themselves. These were females born to haunt men, to drive them to despair—elegant, sloe-eyed creatures who moved with a careless, lazy grace, women and girls with secret smiles and eyes the color of rain. DeFloraine-Marie was such a one as this, and all they had to do was look at a man to cast their deadly spell.

Finn had known a woman once who told him this was not a matter of gender at all. That there was a male of that same cunning species who was the ruination of womankind.

And if he'd been such a man himself? Would he, indeed, have been able to gain such a prize as Letitia Louise?

“Not a chance,” he muttered to himself, just before he fell asleep. “She would have struck me with something heavy, and that would have been the end of that… “

I
SHOULD LIKE TO HAVE BREAKFAST, AT LEAST,” SAID
Letitia Louise, yawning for the second time in a minute and a half. “They do serve a very fine breakfast here, Finn. I don't see why we can't wait for that.”

“Because, love, I have done what I came to do here, and that was to deliver a clock. He doesn't want it, fine. He can toss the bundle out. In truth, I'm rather pleased it turned out the way it did. That wasn't my greatest work, you know. I made it under extreme duress.”

“I thought it really wasn't all that bad, as a fact.”

“As a fact,” Julia said, “it really wasn't all that good. What it was was a piece of—”

“No one asked you, Julia. Letitia, are you sure you have everything, dear?”

“No, Finn, I don't. I had that red valise you gave me for Winter's Day, but it burned up in that balloon. I really don't have anything at all.”

“Yes, well, we'll get you another bag quite soon.”

He looked about the room, though he couldn't guess why. He had nothing himself except Koodigern's dagger, and the clothes he had on, which seemed to be smelling rather stale.

He supposed he should be grateful for that. Letitia's senses weren't as keen as Julia's, but good enough to catch a hint of candles, say, or scents from across the Misty Sea.

The hallway was empty, as it ever seemed to be. And, as ever, the faint, slightly chill odor of the underworld was in the air.

Letitia had suggested they wait for Dostagio or Maddigern to help them find the proper way out. Finn said a definite “no” to that. He'd had enough of them both, especially the bad-tempered Badgie. They could find their own way, even if it took a little time.

And, once they did, he would find a proper breakfast at an inn and purchase a bath as well. That, and some new, fresh clothing would have their spirits up again.

“I believe we turn left here,” Letitia said. “I recall this corner quite well.”

“I have to disagree. We go straight ahead for some time.”

“We go left,” Julia said.

“Absolutely not.”

“Who has the compass in their belly, you or me, Finn?”

“I don't feel your senses are working right.”

“They were working right last night.”

“What?” Letitia looked puzzled. “What's all this about?”

“I haven't the slightest idea,” Finn said. “Julia says whatever comes into her head.”

“I don't think she
always
does, Finn.”

“All right, most of the time. Which has nothing to do with whether we should—”

Finn stopped. He saw them, from the corner of his eye, both of them, coming from the corridor ahead.

Dostagio and—to Finn's great chagrin—the odious Maddigern himself. He wondered, again, how the kindly Koodigern could be so totally different from his Badgie brother. Still, families were ever at odds, among Newlies and human folk alike.

“How nice of you to take your precious time to see us
out,” Finn spoke to Maddigern. “Did you fear we'd try to stay, that we might miss your ever-cheerful ways?”

“I would be pleased to gut you right here,” the Badgie said, with a wary glance at Julia, perched on Finn's shoulder, watching with her bright ruby eyes. “If that'd be convenient, Master Finn.”

“It would be my pleasure, a fine way to start this lovely day.”

“Finn—!” Letitia's look was dark enough to bring rain.

“Maiming and such will not be possible,” Dostagio said, “as you are well aware, Captain/Major Maddigern. Plans have been altered, modified, changed, as it were, by the wishes of His Grace, King Llowenkeef-Grymm. He would have your presence, sir and Miss, in the Great Hall of Tedious Favors and Petitions, which is in endless session right now.”

Finn shook his head. “I'm sure there's some mistake. We're supposed to be out of here. I doubt if the King has changed his mind about that.”

Finn hesitated, turning on the Badgie with a curious eye.

“This is some doing of yours, isn't it, Maddigern? It has nothing to do with the King.”

“I assure you it does, sir,” Dostagio said. “We must not dawdle any longer. The King is most frugal about his time.”

“As I understand it, the Afterworld has its own sense of time. One should be in tune with the Eternal Hour, not the illusion of time as we find reflected here.”

Maddigern, ever in control of his rigid, sullen appearance, was clearly aghast. Even Dostagio's sober mask appeared to twitch.

“He quoted scripture,” Maddigern said. “I heard him. He said it aloud.”

“I'm afraid he did.”

“We're not supposed to hear this. Damn the fellow, Dostagio, I have to kill us all.”

“Wait, hold it there,” Finn said.

“I suppose you do, Captain/Major, but I wonder if the rule applies if we have prior orders from the King. Might not such an order take precedence over Shameful Heresy and Disrespect for the Dead?”

“You have a point, First Servant.”

“Well, then. I suggest I take it up with the Forty-Third Elder and get back to you on this.”

“Good. That's that. Now, Master Finn and Miss, get on to the hall like you're told. And no more foul desecration or such as that. We're religious people here.”

“Why?” Finn asked. “You're not even allowed to join.”

“Of course we're not, sir. What kind of church do you think this is…?”

I
F FINN EXPECTED THE COMFY SURROUNDINGS OF
the King's private chamber, he had clearly forgotten the awesome Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings, with its fossilized rulers of the past, or the grandeur of the Great Dining Hall, and its magnificent dome of leaded glass.

The Great Hall of Tedious Favors and Petitions followed the theme of Heldessian splendor in all respects. The floor was a sparkling mosaic picturing myth and legend from ancient times. The columns that lined the hall were as massive as the trees of northern climes, where the mighty Grizz sat about their fires.

The vaulted stone ceiling rose to dizzying heights, nearly beyond the reach of the hanging crystal lights.

“Better than Prince Aghen Aghenfleck's hall, I'll say that,” Finn whispered to Letitia Louise.

“Well, it's higher, all right. But Aghenfleck does have very nice balconies that let in the light.”

“Those balconies are there so he can stand and watch his cousins go under the Grapnel and the Snip,” Finn told her. “Or see how they fare beneath the Mush… “

“Hah! There you are, my boy. Good! Good! Nice of you to come!”

King Llowenkeef-Grymm suddenly burst forth through a small crowd of courtiers gathered at the far end of the hall.
Finn noticed everyone was dressed in red today, instead of purple hues. There were counselors in madder, cherry and pink. Chamberlains in ruby, cardinal and wine. Lords, ladies, toadies and fools in every shade of rust, amber, coral and rose.

The King was again attired in pious tatters and rags of soot and gray, with a face of ghoulish white, and large black circles about his eyes.

“You haven't missed a thing,” the King said. “All the miserable wretches are gone, be thankful for that. Why is it the poor all
want
something? Is it that way in your country as well? I never grant more than three favors at a time, they
know
that, but they won't go away.

“Ah, lizard is with you as well. Fine, fine. And this is the charming Miss Letitia Louise. I'm sorry we haven't met. You're most welcome here. I have always said, if I were to take a female of the animal persuasion to my bed, it would be a Mycer girl. Oh, now, I hope I haven't embarrassed you in any way, my dear. You can say anything you like if you're the King, and sometimes I do.”

“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace…” Letitia was appalled, but no longer greatly surprised at what a human might say.

“I shall introduce you to the court,” the King told the two, “or as many as I can recall. First, though, I've prepared a little surprise. I hope you'll be impressed, Finn, it's all about you.”

“Me, sire? I can't imagine what you mean.”

Finn's throat went suddenly dry. He looked all about, to see if there was anything to drink.

“You're much too modest, boy, a quality I find abhorrent in a person. I do hope you'll work on that. Oh, we're starting. Just wait right here, if you will.”

The King trotted off, leaving a string, a tatter, a bit of his shroud here and there.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” Finn said. “I
can't imagine what the old fool is going to do. Maybe I'm to be fossilized and put on display somewhere.”

“Oh no, Finn. You're not a king or anything. They wouldn't do that.”

“It was a jest, Letitia. A poor one, I admit, but I'm not in the best of form today.”

“If it's anything fatal,” Julia said from her perch, “explain that Letitia and I had nothing to do with whatever it is. That's the least you can do.”

“I hope it's not that blasphemy thing,” Letitia said. “You likely should have kept that to yourself, dear.”

“I'm sure you're right. Unfortunately, it's too late to— Rocks and Socks, what's
that?”

A terrible sound shook the hall, a squeal, a din, a flat and nasal blare, as if a flock of geese had some disorder of the bill.

A horde of courtiers, chattering, tittering, bobbing about, suddenly filled the Great Hall, a gaudy circus of crimson tones. And, as Finn noticed, one poor fellow in green, clearly blind to the color red.

The clamor, the blast, the most unmusical sounds, came from a dozen young boys in lurid salmon hues. They blew on enormous horns of brass until they were flushed, and someone made them stop.

“Even I cannot make more horrid sounds than that,” Julia said.

“No, but on occasion you have tried.”

The crowd began to cheer. Some waved and hopped about. Some tossed their hats in the air, and some kicked off their shoes. Finn was next to certain no one knew what they were cheering about. If the King cheered or booed, or cut off his ear, then they would do it too.

“Finn, would you tell me what's happening, please? It's awfully noisy, and I don't like it here.”

Finn didn't like it either. It came on a golden cart with wobbly wheels. Whatever it was, it was hidden by a colorful
kingly drape. The item, the thing, the burden on the cart, poked itself up in sharp, pointy little peaks. It could be a pot of eels, it could be a rocking chair. The King had a fine sense of humor, and it could indeed be a Badgie with an axe.