The Merchant of Death (36 page)

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Authors: D.J. MacHale

BOOK: The Merchant of Death
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I jumped up and joined Uncle Press at one of the windows. Loor and Alder peered out of the other one. The hut wasn't far from the central clearing of the Milago village. We were going to see all that we needed to see.

The scene in the clearing was painfully familiar. The Milago villagers slowly gathered around the central platform; the seesaw device was in place, ready to weigh the next poor victim; the lone drummer stood on the platform, beating out the summons; and a handful of Bedoowan knights stood next to the platform with spears in hand. The drummer suddenly stopped pounding his kettle and an ominous silence fell over the village. Then, as if on cue, I heard the sound of a galloping horse. Mallos was on his way. The crowd parted and Mallos charged up to the platform and dismounted before his horse had come to a stop.

How could anyone be this evil? What was it that drove him to spread terror and chaos wherever he went? Was it because he enjoyed it? Did it give him some kind of thrill? Does evil exist just for evil's sake? There had to be answers to these questions, but they would have to wait for another time because the curtain was about to go up.

“Where is the glaze?” Mallos bellowed. “Why was I summoned before the glaze was ready to be transferred?”

He scanned the crowd waiting for an answer, but none was coming. Nobody could even look him in the eye. I was afraid he would blow a cork and send the knights on a rampage, but that didn't happen. Instead, Rellin stepped forward. The chief miner looked calm and in control.

“Mallos,” he said. “I truly hope you will be happy with the news we bring you.”

Mallos shot a suspicious look at Rellin, then stepped up to him and stuck his nose in the chief miner's face.

“Where are they, Rellin?” he seethed. “I know they are here. If you hide them from me, you cannot begin to imagine the punishment that will come down upon you.”

Mallos was talking about us. He seemed incredibly ticked that we had gotten away and was accusing the Milago of hiding us. The four of us exchanged looks, but none of us were about to give ourselves up. Rellin was cool. He didn't back down.

“That is the news I bring you,” he said. “We are sorry for all the trouble the outsiders have caused you. We thought they were our friends, but they are not. And knowing that they have caused distress to Queen Kagan, well, that now makes them our enemies as well.”

Was he for real? Was he going to turn us over to Mallos and the knights after telling me he'd let us go? I didn't think Rellin was a liar, but this sounded bad. I could tell that Mallos wasn't sure where Rellin was going with this either. He looked at the miner suspiciously and asked through clenched teeth, “Where are they?”

“I do not know,” answered Rellin. “But when we find them we will bring them to you immediately.”

Okay, maybe he was a liar after all, but at least he hadn't
lied to me. He wasn't going to turn us in. What was he up to?

“In the meantime”, continued Rellin. “As an apology for the trouble we have caused you and Queen Kagan and all the Bedoowan, we would like to present you with a gift.” He made a motion and the crowd parted. Three miners stepped forward carrying their load of glaze. But this was no ordinary load. They carried an entire ore car full of glaze! It was spectacular. The cart was piled high with the biggest, most brilliant glaze stones I had seen yet.

“Yesterday we struck a promising new vein of glaze,” said Rellin proudly. “That is our good news. There is more glaze in this new vein than we could hope to bring up in a lifetime. It took us a full day and night to load this one car and I predict that there are hundreds of more cars to come that will be just as full.”

Mallos seemed impressed. He should have been. It was a lot of glaze.

“This is our gift to you,” said Rellin. “I ask only one thing in return.”

“What is that?” barked Mallos.

“I wish to be able to present this to Queen Kagan myself,” said Rellin. “I realize that a lowly Milago miner would never be allowed into the palace, but perhaps I could bring this carful of glaze to the Bedoowan stadium? I would be honored to present this to Queen Kagan along with the promise of much more to come.”

Rellin was brilliant. He was playing Mallos like a fish and the fish was about to bite the hook. Of course we all knew the truth. That ore car wasn't full of glaze at all. My guess is that if you dug about a quarter of the way down, the glaze would stop and the load of tak would begin. Yes, Rellin had figured out a way to smuggle his monstrous bomb right into the heart
of the Bedoowan palace. It was like the story of the Trojan Horse where the Greeks were at war with the Trojans and gave them a gift of a giant wooden horse. Only the horse was loaded with Greek soldiers. As soon as the big horse was wheeled inside the city of Troy, the soldiers jumped out and gave a big helping of whup-butt to the surprised Trojans.

But this Trojan Horse wasn't full of soldiers. This was loaded with a deadly explosive that would level the Bedoowan palace and probably most of the Milago village. The plan was insane, and brilliant. The question was, would Mallos fall for it?

Mallos looked at the earful of glaze. He walked to it and dug his hand down into the precious stones. I could sense Rellin tensing, but he didn't make a move. Mallos pulled his hand out and clutched a load of brilliant blue stones. He then looked to Rellin and said, “Why make your promise to only Queen Kagan? I believe all of the Bedoowan people should be in the stadium to receive this gift and to hear your promise.”

Rellin did his best not to smile and only said, “Yes, you are a wise man.”

Unbelievable. Not only was Mallos going to let Rellin bring the bomb in, he was going to gather all of the Bedoowan around it.

Mallos then climbed back on his horse and bellowed, “Bring the glaze now. I will prepare the stadium!” With that he kicked his horse and charged toward the palace.

Rellin looked to the miners who had brought in the tak bomb. Without showing a hint of satisfaction, he walked to the ore car. No words were spoken. The men knew what they had to do. They all reached down, lifted the heavy car and began the long walk to the Bedoowan palace. Their death mission was under way.

Uncle Press backed away from the window and said, “Mallos knows.”

“No way!” I said. “Why would he let them bring a bomb into the Bedoowan stadium?”

“Because he wants the Milago to use it,” was his answer. “He doesn't care who wins, or who dies. He wants the Milago to use the tak. If that bomb goes off, he'll have succeeded.”

Maybe Uncle Press was right. If Mallos wanted to start a war that would throw Denduron into chaos, what better way to kick it off than by letting the Milago have their big bang right in the Bedoowan backyard? For Mallos it was perfect. We all knew exactly where this was leading but there was nothing we could do to stop it because we were trapped in this stupid hut.

But not for long. Without stopping to tell us, Loor ran for the window and in one quick, acrobatic move pulled herself up and out. In seconds she was climbing up onto the roof. It happened so fast that none of us could react. We just sort of stared at each other, wondering what she was doing. We heard her quietly scamper across the roof until she was above the door to the hut. What followed was the sound of a brief scuffle outside, followed by a few quick grunts. Loor then poked her head back inside the door.

“We may leave now,” she said with matter-of-fact calm.

None of us were exactly sure of what had happened, but we all ran for the door and followed Loor out. Outside we saw all three guards had been knocked unconscious and were leaning against the hut. Loor had struck before they knew what hit them and had managed to free us all in less than twenty seconds.

That was pretty cool, but there wasn't time for praise. We had to get out of the Milago village without being caught. As
it turned out, it wasn't hard. Rellin's plan was being carried out, which meant the rest of the miners were preparing for their attack. As soon as they heard the explosion they would charge the Bedoowan palace. Those miners had more important things to worry about than guarding us. So getting out of the village and disappearing into the woods was easy.

The four of us ran until we felt we were a safe distance away. Uncle Press then raised his hand and we all stopped to catch our breath. Uncle Press looked at Loor and said what was on all of our minds.

“You are unbelievable!” he said with a laugh. “Why didn't you tell us you were going to do that? We could have helped.”

Loor gave a very Loor-esque response. “I did not need your help. The best weapon in battle is surprise. The miners were watching Mallos and Rellin. They were not thinking about us. If I had waited, they may have turned their attention back to guarding us. I did not want to give them that chance.”

“I'm proud of you, Loor,” said Uncle Press. “Your mother would be too.”

“She taught me well,” said Loor.

My mother never taught me anything like that. She spent a lot of time drilling good table manners into me, but we never got to the lesson on how to disarm and crack heads with three guys twice my size. My education was definitely lacking in that area.

“What about the bomb?” said Alder. “We must do something!”

Uncle Press spun back to us and said, “Okay, first thing we have to do is get to the palace. We aren't doing any good here.”

I wasn't so sure that going to the palace was on the top of my To Do list. The palace was the target and unless we had a real chance of stopping Rellin from setting off that bomb, the
only thing getting closer would do is guarantee that we'd be killed the instant it went off. But I wasn't about to say that. The truth was if there was any hope of stopping Rellin, we had to get there.

“Alder, I want you to go back to the village,” said Uncle Press.

“No!” he exclaimed. “I want to stay with you.”

“Look,” said Uncle Press firmly. “I have no idea if we're going to stop this thing. So get back to the village, talk to anyone who'll listen. Warn them that this bomb is going to be bigger than they could ever imagine. Try to get them to go down into the mines. Maybe if they get underground they'll be safe.”

“But I—”

“No buts, Alder,” said Uncle Press. “I know you want to be with us, but if we fail, you still might be able to save some of the Milago.”

Uncle Press was right. If Alder could save even one person from being killed by the explosion, then his mission would be successful. He had to go back.

Alder nodded to Uncle Press, which told me he understood how important his job was. There wasn't time for long good-byes. I hadn't known Alder for very long, but I had grown fond of him. He was kind of a goof, but I didn't doubt for a second that he would have put his life on the line for any one of us. I'd like to say that I would do the same for him.

“Good luck, Travelers,” he said, and smiled at each of us.

“You too, Alder,” said Uncle Press. “Hurry.”

Alder then spun around and ran back toward the Milago village. Now it was just the three of us. The warrior, the boss, and the kid who was so scared he had to pee. Guess which one I was?

“Come on,” commanded Uncle Press and ran deeper into
the forest. Our immediate goal was to get back to the Bedoowan palace. Beyond that, there was no plan. We would have to wing it once we got there, assuming we even got there. Since we were bushwhacking, it took us a long time. I could tell that Loor was getting impatient, but it was better to take a little longer to get there than to risk being captured again. We took a wide route and circled around toward the sea, then crawled along the bluffs until we were within eyesight of the outcropping that held the Bedoowan palace. Though we couldn't see it, we knew where it was because there was a long line of knights marching toward it. Behind them were the four miners carrying the ore car full of glaze and tak. They were almost at the palace. In a few minutes they would descend into the stadium.

We continued to move quickly along the bluffs, moving closer to the stadium. It was a smart thing to do because none of the knights expected anyone to be coming from the sea. They were ever vigilant, but always with their eyes toward the forest. We were able to quietly slip in from behind them and crawl the last several yards on our bellies until we reached the lip of the stadium. We had made it. Now the question was, what were we going to do?

The three of us peered down into the stadium to see that the line of knights was marching down the steep stairs toward the grass field below. Behind them came Rellin and the miners struggling with the heavy ore car. I glanced around the rest of the stadium and saw that two of the spectator sections were beginning to fill up. The Bedoowan people and the Novans were once again taking their seats in anticipation of a show. It was a horrible feeling. None of these people had any idea that the main event was going to be their own deaths. I looked to the section where the Milago were before to see that it was
empty. Big surprise. These guys knew what was coming and didn't want to be any part of it. I then looked to Loor and to Uncle Press. Nobody said anything. That could mean only one thing. Nobody knew what to do. The thought ran through my head that we could run down the stairs screaming at everyone to run for their lives. But all Rellin would have to do is stop, press the button on his homemade bomb and it would be all over. That wouldn't work at all. But if we were going to come up with a better plan, we needed to do it fast, because Rellin and the miners had reached the grass field and were about to place the ore car dead center in the ring.

“If I had an arrow I could kill Rellin from here,” said Loor.

“Then one of the others would press the button,” said Uncle Press.

I then heard the three chimes that signaled the arrival of Queen Kagan. Sure enough, when I looked at the royal box a few knights marched in, followed by the chubby queen. True to form, she was munching on something that looked like a roast beef. What a piece of work.

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