The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain) (5 page)

“It’s no use yelling at the servants,” Vannett said. “Ellayne wouldn’t have told them she was going to sneak off. And remember, the last time she left home like this, it turned out to be on God’s business.”

“I’m sure the Lord can manage a few things without our daughter’s assistance. How can you be so calm about it?”

“I only look calm!”

It took all morning to find out that no one in Ninneburky had seen the children leave town, and no one had heard them talking about it. The country was at peace and no watch was posted in the night. Noon rolled around, but no one in the Bault household felt like eating dinner.

“If only that man Martis were here,” Vannett said.

“Martis be fried,” her husband growled. After all these hours he was still in his nightshirt. “But I wonder—maybe we should send for him. Ellayne says to show him the note. Maybe he might know something about this.”

“But Martis is out East somewhere. Nobody knows exactly where he is.”

“I’ll send a rider, anyhow. And I’ll send out more riders, just in case she’s on the road somewhere.” Roshay ground his fist against his palm. “Why couldn’t she have told us anything? And Jack! After we took him in—”

“Don’t be unjust,” Vannett said. “Let’s just try to find them.”

Chapter 6

How King Ryons Met a Man of God

King Ryons lay sleeping in his bed on a summer night—the exact night, for reasons you will understand, has been kept a secret—when he woke up suddenly.

All the lamps in his room were out and curtains drawn across the windows, so it was quite dark. Nevertheless, when by some unaccountable impulse he sat up in his bed, he saw someone sitting at the foot of it—not a shadowy shape, but a person who was plainly visible in spite of the darkness.

Ryons slept with the door of his bedchamber locked on the inside and one of his Ghol bodyguards stationed outside in the hall. The Ghols called him “father,” although he was a boy and they were all grown men, and each and every one of them would gladly die to protect him. Therefore it was not possible for any stranger to be in his room; and yet there he was.

“Sorry to wake you, King Ryons,” he said.

You would think that anyone would be startled and unnerved by this. But Ryons felt perfectly calm, although he found it strange that he could see so well in the dark. Probably he was still asleep and this was just a dream, he thought.

The visitor was an old man with a shiny bald head and an unruly white beard rippling down his chest. He wore farmer’s clothes and spoke to Ryons in Wallekki, the language he’d grown up with. (But he’d studied hard and learned fast, and now he was fluent in Obannese.) For some reason Ryons was sure he’d seen the man before.

“I told you we’d meet again someday,” the old man said.

Now he remembered! “Yes—when Cavall and I were on our way to the city before the great beast came, and the battle—”

The man nodded. When Ryons trekked all the way from Lintum Forest to the city of Obann with only Cavall the hound for company, this man met them and encouraged him to finish his journey.

And again, that time the people in the city closed the gates against him, it was an old man very like this one who went on ahead, leading the way. Ryons saw him, but none of the Ghols could. Riding along beside him, Queen Gurun saw someone else entirely. How that could be, Ryons never understood.

“King Ryons,” said the visitor, “the Lord is pleased with you, and now He wants you to do something. Will you do as He asks?”

Ryons nodded.

“It’s necessary for you to leave Obann for a little while. You are to leave tonight, right now, and return to Lintum Forest, taking no one with you but your dog, Cavall. When you get there, seek out your friend Helki. He’ll know what to do.”

What was all this for? Why leave Obann? Ryons couldn’t imagine.

“Am I still king?” he asked. “Or does God want someone else?”

The man smiled at him. “There is no one else, Your Majesty,” he said. “Someday, if you keep God’s commandments, a son of yours shall be king in Obann after you, and his son after him.”

“But who are you?” Ryons cried. “And how is it I can see you in the dark?”

“Shh—not so loud. I am a servant of God. And it’s time we were going. Please put on your clothes.”

Ryons was able to find the clothes he wanted without lighting a lamp. This more than anything else made him sure he was dreaming. When he was all dressed, the man of God opened the door without unlocking it and beckoned him into the hall.

There Ryons found lamps burning and Kutchuk, his bodyguard for the night, seated against the wall beside the door, head bowed down and snoring contentedly. The man of God shut the door and the lock went snick. That tiny bit of noise should have wakened Kutchuk, but it didn’t. The old man put a finger to his lips and led Ryons down the hall.

The royal palace was part of a vast government building that used to be the Oligarchy’s headquarters, with offices, conference chambers, meeting halls, kitchens, and everything else. Now that the Temple lay in ruins, it was much the largest building in the city, and it took Ryons and his guide quite some time to wend their way to an exit.

All of the halls were lit, with soldiers and servants stationed here and there as needed. But no matter which way the man of God led Ryons, they found the people either sound asleep or absent from their posts. Ryons thought this the most outlandish dream he’d ever had.

Yet when he finally stepped outdoors and felt the cool night air on his face, and found Cavall waiting for him on the curb, wagging his tail, and the men stationed at the exit asleep on their feet, Ryons was forced to acknowledge that it wasn’t a dream after all.

“Follow,” said the man of God; and Ryons and Cavall followed, the great hound prancing for pure pleasure.

Ryons knew there were always people on the streets of Obann at all hours of the day or night. As he and Cavall followed the man of God, he heard people’s voices, footsteps, the occasional clip-clop of a horse’s hooves or the creak and rattle of a cart; but the noise always seemed to come from some other street nearby.

Only once did they meet anyone: a burly, bearded man who looked like trouble, Ryons thought.

“Ho, there! What’s this?” the burly man said. “Hold up there, you two!”

Cavall growled, but the man had a cudgel in one hand and didn’t seem at all afraid of the dog. Before Cavall could spring at him, the man of God said something Ryons couldn’t hear, and the burly man dropped the cudgel and reeled backward, bumping heavily into a brick wall. He slid down the wall and collapsed in a heap, and Ryons heard him snoring.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. He fell asleep. He will wake up in the morning with a headache. Come, Your Majesty. You must be out of the gate and on your way before sunrise.”

It being peacetime, Obann’s gates weren’t closed at night; but they were guarded. But the guards at the East Gate just stood staring into the night, and paid no attention at all as Ryons and Cavall followed their guide through the gate.

Now they were outside the city, and the old man led them on a dirt track down to the river. There he pushed aside some reeds and showed Ryons a little boat resting on the riverbank. He smiled again.

“The first time you crossed the river, little king, you were riding the great beast to the rescue of your city. This time a little rowboat will have to suffice,” he said. “Get in and I’ll shove you off. You’ll find a sack of provisions and other necessities, a waterskin, and a blanket.”

Ryons climbed awkwardly into the boat, and Cavall leaped in after him. All the things he would need for his journey were there in a little pile.

“Put the oars in the locks,” said the man. “You can row a boat, can’t you?”

“I think I can,” Ryons said. “I’ve never done it before, though.”

“You’ll do all right this time, Your Majesty.”

“Why does God want me to go to Lintum Forest? Won’t it make a lot of trouble in the city, when they can’t find me and nobody knows where I am?”

“The Father of All wishes to magnify His servants and them that love Him,” said the man of God, “at the expense of their enemies, and to demonstrate His providence. Now go, and trust in God’s protection.”

With surprising strength the old man pushed the boat into the water, and it kept going as Ryons fumbled with the oars. It wasn’t easy to get them into just the right position. By the time he accomplished it and looked up again, the old man was gone. At least Ryons couldn’t see him in the dark.

You or I would have found it hard to row across the Imperial River. There was a strong current. You’d get across eventually, but at a point far downstream from the spot that you were trying to reach.

Ryons found it easy going, and before another hour had gone by, he’d rowed all the way across the great river. “I thought it’d be a lot harder than that,” he said to Cavall. Had he known more about rivers and boats, he would have considered the feat miraculous.

When he bumped the prow onto the opposite shore at a place where it sloped gently to the water, Ryons and Cavall got out and the boy dragged the boat onto the land. He shouldered the pack and the waterskin, and tucked the rolled-up blanket under the strap of the pack. His education had advanced, so he knew by now the general location of Lintum Forest relative to Obann City, and how to find his way there. Behind him like cliffs loomed the ruins of Old Obann on the south bank, destroyed by God in His wrath.

“I wonder what we’re supposed to do in Lintum Forest,” Ryons said. God had already put him through so many strange adventures, it hardly occurred to him to question the need for yet another. Had the Lord not found him, the lowliest of slaves, and made him king? “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

Cavall grinned and wagged his tail.

With no more than another hour or two to sunrise, King Ryons began his trek to Lintum Forest.

Chapter 7

How Gurun Received a Throne

Everyone in Obann was busy. There would have been more than enough work for everyone just in clearing away the ruins of the Temple; after a year’s labor, plenty remained of that task. But there were also the city’s defenses to reorganize, Heathen brigands to be suppressed throughout the land, militia raised and trained, and farms to be restored.

On top of all that, an army of scholars and students toiled to render the Old Books into modern script and language so that all the people of Obann could be instructed in the Scriptures. And there were King Ozias’ scrolls to translate and copy out—the ones found by Jack and Ellayne in the ruins of Ozias’ Temple in the Old City. Were these truly long-lost books of Scripture? Scholars argued endlessly about it.

Everyone had quite enough to do without having to deal with the sudden disappearance of their king.

All morning long the Ghols ran up and down the palace, searching for him everywhere. They all knew Kutchuk would never have slept through the opening or closing of the king’s door—and yet the king was not found in his bed that morning. There were fifty Ghols and they searched everywhere, growing more and more frantic by the hour.

“What shall we do?” said Chagadai, their chief. It was now past noon, and no one had found any sign of the king.

“It’s my fault,” Kutchuk said. “I should be put to death.”

“So should we all, if we cannot find our father!” said another warrior.

“Don’t talk like a fool, Kutchuk. What are we going to do? It’ll take more than the fifty of us to search the city,” Chagadai said. “Go, summon all the chieftains.”

The Heathen chiefs who first proclaimed Ryons as their king were still in Obann to advise him and protect him. They were Heathen no more, but the people of Obann naturally looked on them as foreigners.

“And fetch the queen, too!” Chagadai shouted after Kutchuk.