The Midnight Men and Other Stories (15 page)

“What?” said Ultavia.

“I can’t marry him,” Ullmay finished.

The queen’s face was frozen in disbelief.

“My dear Princess,” Merryn said in a loud, gregarious voice. “I understand your anxiety. But I am certain that in time your love for me will blossom like the beautiful flowers which line the streets today in your honour.”

This romantic speech had little effect on Ullmay. She was trembling like a leaf. “NO!” she shouted. “You don’t understand! I can’t marry you!”

She turned and fled across the chamber floor, disappearing through the door to her private rooms, and slamming it shut behind her. Queen Ultavia marched after her, stopping abruptly in front of the locked door. After a long moment, she turned and fixed her gaze on Kalfas.

“Holy man, what have you said to my daughter?”

“Yes,” Merryn added, “what poison have you poured in her ear?”

“My Lady,” Kalfas said, trying to ignore the clan leader’s venomous gaze. “I simply told her the will of the gods. This wedding cannot go ahead.”

Merryn let out a bark of laughter. “And what possible reason would your gods have to destroy this happy day?”

“Because the union would lead to war,” Kalfas said. “A war that will lead to the destruction of our world.”

Merryn turned to the queen. “Your Highness, this is intolerable. These holy men do not wish to see an alliance between your people and the clans because they fear our influence will undermine their power and eventually show them to be the charlatans they are!”

Ultavia, eyes fixed on Kalfas, nodded. “I agree.”

“I demand that this person be removed and punished accordingly.”

A wicked smile came over the queen’s face. “Oh, he will be, I assure you, Merryn. He will pay for infecting my daughter with his lies.”

Kalfas took a step forward. “My Queen, it is no lie. The gods are giving us a warning. We must control our actions. That is the purpose of the holy order. To guide—”

Before Kalfas could finish, a sharp pain exploded in his lower back. He fell to the floor, his staff clattering against the tiles. Standing over him was Muniss, the head guard, his baton poised for another strike.

The door to Ullmay’s chambers opened and the princess rushed out.

“Kalfas!” she cried. But before she could reach her spiritual mentor, a trio of guards blocked her path. She looked at her mother, her eyes blazing with anger. “Don’t harm him, Mother, he has done nothing wrong! He only wants to help!”

“That’s what he told you, is it?” she said, turning and advancing on Kalfas’s prostrate form. “These holy men! They think themselves so superior to us, just because they can communicate with the gods. They can say anything they like to get what they want from us. Isn’t that right, holy man?” She turned back to her daughter. “Do not be taken in by him, Ullmay. If the world is in peril, have no fear: the gods will intervene.”

“You’re wrong, my lady,” Kalfas managed to say. “I wish that it were so. But the gods will not come to our aid this time. They have told us how we
can save the future, but that is the extent of their Intervention. It is up to us this time. So, my lady, if you forge ahead with this wedding, you condemn us all . . .”

Muniss kicked Kalfas hard in the ribs, and he cried out in pain.

“Stop it!” Ullmay screamed. Once again she tried to push through the wall of soldiers, but without success. She glared at the queen. “Mother, I know the truth. The future has been revealed to me—the world is doomed to war. And the gods say this marriage will be the cause!”

“This marriage can only be for the betterment of Totopolis!” the queen railed. “What harm can there be in uniting two peoples?”

Kalfas managed to raise himself onto one knee. “Queen Ultavia, you must ask yourself this question, and be truthful: what is more important? The future of Totopolis . . . or the gold ore which lies at the heart of the clan territories?”

A deep silence filled the room. The queen’s composure faltered and sweat broke out on her brow. She scanned the room, studying the faces of everyone around her. Kalfas saw the look of betrayal on Merryn’s pinched features. Even Muniss looked stunned.

Ultavia stared at Merryn, and slowly her composure returned, her expression of fear turning into a defiant glare. “Don’t tell me, Merryn, that your people will not find practical gain from this marriage. We both know your water supplies are running dry.”

Merryn dropped his gaze.

“This marriage will go ahead,” the queen said with quiet authority. Then she turned to her captain with a sneer. “Remove the holy man, Muniss. Let us have an end to this!”

Muniss beckoned the guards on his left to come forward. As they advanced on the crouching figure, Kalfas closed his eyes and began muttering a prayer to the gods. Before the soldiers could lay their hands on him, Kalfas leapt up, lurching across the room. Stunned by this sudden charge, Muniss’s men made a belated attempt to stop him, falling over each other in the execution.

The entire room watched as Kalfas rushed at Merryn. The clan leader’s eyes grew wide, and he stumbled back under the approaching threat. In a blur of movement, Kalfas grabbed him around the neck and drew the ceremonial dagger from Merryn’s sheath. He raised the gleaming blade to Merryn’s throat.

The chamber fell silent. Kalfas fixed his gaze on the queen, whose eyes had become dark angry slits, her hands drawn into trembling fists.

“Let him go, holy man,” she said.

Kalfas watched the guards drawing a circle around him.

“Yes, let me go,” Merryn said in a strangled voice. “Nothing can be gained from my death.”

“On the contrary,” Kalfas told the room, “your death will save the lives of millions.”

The queen advanced slowly towards them. “You won’t kill him,” she said. “You’re a holy man. Murder goes against everything you believe in.”

Kalfas shook his head. “No, my lady. Our purpose is to ensure that the will of the gods is done.” He pressed the blade harder against Merryn’s throat, piercing the skin only slightly, enough to draw a bead of blood. Merryn squealed. “If that means murder, so be it.”

The queen stopped her advance. The entire chamber fell into silence once more.

A strong gust of wind suddenly filled the room, and everyone turned away from Kalfas and Merryn.

The vast window had been rolled back and there, silhouetted against the eastern skyline, stood the princess, her robes billowing around her like the gossamer wings of an angel. Her pale cheeks were wet with tears.

The guards surged forward, begging her to return to safety, but she seemed to see through them, her eyes glazed over with a strange mist. The queen stumbled toward her daughter.

“Ullmay, what are you doing?”

Ullmay’s eyes found Kalfas across the chamber and a fragile smile appeared on her lips. “I cannot allow my dear Kalfas to bloody his hands. The burden lies with me . . .”

Kalfas saw naked fear in Ultavia’s face.

“Please, Ullmay,” she cried. “Don’t be foolish. Have faith in the gods. They will save us!”

Ullmay could only offer a bitter smile. “If that is so, Mother, then surely the gods will pluck me from the sky . . .”

“Ullmay, no!”

There was a moment of exquisite silence as the heiress to the throne of Totopolis stepped out into the sky, her body appearing to float on air, and then . . .

Then the long, inexorable plunge.

Everyone in the chamber rushed to the window. Kalfas could only watch helplessly as the princess vanished from sight. He was dimly aware of the dagger in his hand falling to the floor with a distant clanging sound. Far below, a cry went up from the crowds surrounding the royal pavilion.

The queen almost followed her daughter in her grief. Clutching the edge of the open window, she stared down at her daughter’s plummeting figure, wailing and grinding her teeth. She made a motion to jump after the princess, but the guards, sensing her intentions, wrestled her back within the safety of the tower. Merryn slumped down on an oak bench, all colour drained from his face.

In those last few seconds, before Ullmay’s descent ended, Kalfas saw several faces raised to the skies above the tower, faces etched with a desperate hope. They were praying that, at any moment, benign, cloud-formed hands would reach down out of that clear blue sky.

They were praying for an Intervention.

But it never came.

***

By the time Kalfas reached the gardens at the base of the tower, a large crowd had gathered around the princess. Her body lay in the lush grass, a pale, broken thing. No one had dared to touch her. When he knelt down by her side, he was amazed to find her still alive; although the starburst of blood around her head, and the crimson filter over her once-blue eyes told him that her time was short. He clutched her hand and kissed her pale fingers. On seeing him, Ullmay smiled.

“Can you hear them, Kalfas?” she croaked. “Tell me what they are singing.”

Kalfas understood her plea and dutifully closed his eyes. In no time at all, he became lost in the melody, the rise and fall of sweetness and sorrow as the opposing futures did battle in some far off place. Eventually, the brightest melody won out, and as it reached a stunning crescendo, his heart swelled with joy.

“Oh my,” he said, as the song faded gently into a soft hum.

“Do they sing a different tune, Kalfas? A good tune?”

He clutched her hand tighter, and smiled. “Oh yes, Princess. The song of the future is a happy one!”

She tried to smile again, but a swell of pain stopped her. Kalfas felt her grip slacken within his hands. She coughed, and blood stained her lips.

Suddenly, Kalfas was gripped by the voices again as a new song began to roll through the Inner Place. Ullmay sensed this, even as her eyes began to dim. She fought the encroaching darkness to watch the holy man’s face.

“Kalfas?” she whispered. “What are they singing now?”

Tears streamed from Kalfas’s closed eyelids as he absorbed the intense music within. Somehow his body had become a transmitter, sending the message of the gods to everyone around him. Knowing that her time was short, Kalfas forced his eyes open and bent low to Ullmay’s ear.

“They are singing to all of us now, Princess,” he said. Over his shoulder she saw that the gathered crowds were lost in the Inner Music. Eyes shut; they swayed like flowers in the breeze. Kalfas’s broad smiling features filled her vision one last time. “They are singing for you.”

As contentment washed through her, Princess Ullmay closed her eyes and welcomed the blanket of death which wrapped itself gently around her. And as she drifted down she was drawn into the Inner Place, forever one with the music of the gods.

Lee Moan lives on the south coast of England. His stories have appeared in numerous print and online publications including
Niteblade, Dark Recesses, Hub Magazine, Murky Depths, Jupiter SF,
and the upcoming anthology
Best New Tales of the Apocalypse
from Permuted Press. His alternate history mystery novella,
The Hotel Galileo
, was published by Wolfsinger Press in 2009. Find out more at
The Steam-Powered Typewriter.

Also by Lee Moan:

Symbiosis
-
Amazon US
-
Amazon UK
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The Barclay Heath Mysteries:

The Hotel Galileo
-
Amazon US
-
Amazon UK

The Vanished Race
(Due Spring 2011)

Lazarus Island
(a supernatural thriller due late Spring 2011)