The Kings of the Seven Bells

by Marti Talbott

  Artilly went to help her sister with the meal. “First we eat, then we go back to the quest. I can hardly wait until ‘tis over.”

  “Why is that?” Nerratel asked, once more rubbing the water out of his eyes.

  “I miss playing with the animals, and they miss me. Some animals have failings too.”

  “Animals have failings?” Nerratel asked.

  “When Artilly started to answer, Binna hushed her sister. “Are you hungry?” she asked her guests. “Food will help you recover faster.”

  “Not for me!” Lasun quickly answered.

  “Tis not poison,” Binna said, setting a bowl of stew in front of him. To prove it, she took a spoonful of broth, put it in her mouth and swallowed. She smiled as he watched to see if she would die or at least pass out. At last, he believed her. Lasun smelled the alluring aroma of the stew, realized he was hungry after all, and began to eat.

  The food did wonders for both men just as Binna promised. It tasted great too, which prompted Nerratel to compliment the sisters. “You cook very well.”

  “Oh, we do not make it,” Artilly said. “Tis just in the pot whenever we get hungry.”

  Nerratel asked, “You know not who makes it?”

  Artilly began to giggle again. “These two are slower than the others.”

  “Indeed they are,” Binna agreed. “The darkness taught them nothing at all.”

  “If there is a lesson in darkness, you are right. I failed to see it,” said Nerratel.

  “Because you have a failing,” Artilly said. She nodded to emphasize her comment.

  “A failing is not seeing in the dark?” asked Lasun. “No Mobbox can see in the dark.”

  “True,” Artilly agreed. “All the Mobbox have that same failing.”

  Nerratel realized he was asking a question, but he was tired of that game, “What is there to see in the darkness?”

  Artilly answered, “There are two kinds of darkness – the kind that comes with the night, and the kind the Mobbox simply refuse to admit. It is a darkness in the mind.”

  “You are saying we could see if we’ve a mind to?” Lasun asked. He was still confused even after Artilly nodded. “A man cannot see what he does not know to look for.”

  “Particularly if the failing is inward and not outward.” Binna thoughtfully paused. “I wonder, why have you never gone to the Lowlands?”

  “There is no way down,” Lasun answered.

  “Are you certain? Have you looked?” Artilly observed the grimace on Lasun’s face and then the one in Nerratel’s expression.

  “We have all we require,” said Nerratel, “therefore, we have no need to go to the Lowlands.”

  “Are you quite certain the people in the Lowlands have no need of you?” Binna asked.

  He lowered his gaze before he answered, “What need of us could they have?”

  Binna did not answer. Instead, she changed the subject. “You shall find the next bell in a golden box beneath the surface of the water.”

  Sleeping, albeit involuntarily, and a bowl of food made the two men eager to get back to the quest. They gathered their things, thanked their hostesses, and headed for the door.

  However, after Nerratel left the cottage, Lasun wanted one more spoonful of Binna and Artilly’s scrumptious stew. He dipped his spoon in, put the food in his mouth, closed his eyes and savored the taste. Afraid of getting left behind, he hurried to open the door, stepped out and... suddenly he was in the castle’s throne room.

  ON THE NEWS THAT NERRATEL ate the fruit and was now awake, Noname appeared in the doorway of his cottage and loudly commanded, “SILENCE!”

  Instantly, the people set aside their gambling, stayed where they were and listened.

  “No one tells a Carbollo what to do,” Gincar said aloud. Before she could complain further, her throat began to hurt and soon, she could not speak at all, no matter how hard she tried.

  “What is happening,” Sarinna whispered to Lentee.

  Lentee simply put a finger to her lips to hush Sarinna, and then closed her eyes to listen.

  INSTEAD OF BEING BACK in the countryside, Nerratel walked through the cottage door into a place with no trees, no flowers, no horses, and not one lake or pond. Nor had Lasun followed him. Nerratel turned around to go back inside, but the door and the cottage were gone. Next, he slowly turned all the way around. In every direction he could see nothing but sand and a hedgerow of thorny bushes.

  “’Tis the Lowlands,” he whispered to no one but himself. “It must be. I have never imagined such a barren land as this.” He chose a direction, and then started to walk down the row of tall thorny bushes. “Find the bell in a box beneath the water? What water?” He muttered.

  Consumed with finding a lake or a pond, it took time before he realized the sun burned hotter there, and soon, he removed an outer layer of clothing. Sweat began to pour off his brow, the sand was difficult to walk in, and still he saw no sign of water. He saw no birds or animals either.

  After walking a considerable distance, he came to a place where the height of the hedgerow began to reduce. Shorter and shorter it became until he could at last see the land beyond, and what he saw took his breath away. In the distance, the village that looked so dismal and unfriendly from the cliffs above was surrounded by thriving foliage and glistened in the sunlight.

  Nevertheless, it soon became clear that the village was not what he was there to see. It was on a small patch of green grass that he noticed a little girl with the mark of the Mobbox on her forehead. She sat in the grass playing a game of stones with a little Carbollo boy. Both of them seemed happy enough, but the little boy had only one arm, and when it was time for him to shake the bag and then toss the stones, the little girl did it for him. Soon, the children finished their game and got up. It was then that Nerratel realized the little girl had but one leg. Even with only one arm, the little Carbollo boy let the little Mobbox girl climb on his back and carried her toward the village.

  Horrified, Nerratel refused to see any more, put his hands over his face, and turned his back. “I did not think...I did not...care about the Lowlanders.” It was not until he felt a cool breeze and heard a familiar voice, that he uncovered his face.

  With a beautiful sunset behind her, Artilly was sitting on a rock beside a pond with her bare feet dangling in the water. “You did not care because your mind was filled with darkness.”

  “Yes, I understand that now. Have none of the kings tried to help them?”

  “Some were not ready to understand, seeking only the bells and not the truth. Others convinced themselves there was no way down the cliffs, and did not wish to find out.”

  “Even King Grafton?”

  “Even he. The truth did not convince him to set aside his pleasures for the sake of the Pendernics.”

  Nerratel went to join her beside the pond. “My heart would surely bleed, to know and do nothing, even if I were not king.” As soon as he sat, and to his surprise, a gold box began to rise up out of the pond. Its lid lifted, and then the box moved to within easy reach. Nerratel took the bell out of the box. His mind was filled with what he had just witnessed, so he did not bother to see if there was a symbol on the inside of the glass. Instead, he put the bell in his bag with the others. “There is little joy in finding the bells now that I have seen the truth.”

  He turned his attention back to Artilly, only to discover she was gone. Nerratel smiled. “I should like to know how to do that someday.” With no idea where to go next, he remained seated, rested his eyes for a moment, and then muttered, “I wonder what has become of Lasun.”

  “He is back in the castle throne room,” a man answered.

  Not far away stood an unfamiliar old man dressed in very unfamiliar old clothing. “Who are you?”

  “Just an old man,” Oberra answered. “Behind you is an archway. Follow that path to the find the next bell.”

  WHEN NONAME STEPPED once more out of his cottage, everyone was still being very, very quiet. Ther
efore, there was no need for him to yell. “NERRATEL SAW THE CHILDREN AND FELT SHAME!”

  Some of the people simply nodded, while others shouted their joy. “Shame! Glory be! Surely, Nerratel deserves to be king!”

  “My brother felt shame?” Sarinna asked. “What did he do to bring shame upon himself?”

  Lentee put her hand on Sarinna’s arm. “The children are without limbs. Your brother feels shame for never having wondered if the people here needed him. ‘Tis the failing of inattention.”

  Sarinna nodded. “Then his failing is mine also, for I have never thought to ask.”

  Gincar’s throat finally stopped hurting, and after a cough or two, she was back to her same aggravating self. “I thought you said the people are happy here?”

  “We are,” Lentee answered. “No one here, at least not until you came, thinks to look down on us for our failings.”

  “Failing, failings. ‘Tis nothing but silliness.”

  Midrid stood up and addressed Lentee. “Perhaps it is time for Gincar to learn a truth too.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Gincar asked.

  “It means you shall never have children of your own,” Midrid answered.

  “Of course I shall have children. Raxton wants them and so do I.”

  “You cannot leave this place,” Lentee reminded her. “Therefore, you shall never marry and never have children.”

  Gincar glanced around, noticing for the first time there were no pregnant women and no small babies. “You do not have children here?”

  “We cannot,” Midrid answered. “Yet, there is a child who would like to meet you. Come, and I shall show you.”

  Gincar was reluctant, but she stood up and followed Midrid to a cottage anyway.

  NERRATEL DID AS HE was instructed, believing he would soon be back in the countryside with Artilly and Binna. Instead, he walked down a pathway that was lined with flowers. After walking for just a short time, the flowers began to grow shorter until they were no more, leaving but a bare ceiling and walls. As soon as he turned a corner, the path split into four, each leading in a different direction. It didn’t seem to matter which he chose, so he took the one in the middle and kept going. Nerratel no longer cared about the bells, winning the quest, or becoming king. All he could think about where the children and what a horrible life they must suffer. A maker of all things wooden, he imagined a stick of sorts that could help the little girl walk without being carried. Indeed, he could at least give her some measure of freedom. There were plenty of Mobbox who could help with whatever the Pendernics needed too – if they would. That they would, was something Nerratel found troubling. Just as he didn’t care about the people in the Lowlands before, neither did they.

  Nerratel, was so absorbed with his thoughts, he walked right under the bell in the ceiling and kept going. Just as Raxton had, at the end of the path, Nerratel discovered he was in a round garden with paths that mirrored the spokes of a wheel. The old man seated on a long bench held up a bell. “You missed one.”

  Nerratel was surprised. “Where? I saw no bells.”

  “It was above your head, but then, you do not often look up.”

  “I was distracted.”

  “Come sit by me. I have a few questions.”

  Nerratel smiled. “Not as many as I have.”

  “Yes, well perhaps I might have the answer to one or two of your questions.” Oberra waited until Nerratel put the bell in his sack and got settled on the bench next to him. “I am Oberra, the man the story says got lost in the castle. I might have been king, had I wanted to be, but I saw the truth and decided to stay.”

  “Are all the stories true?”

  “Some, but there are a few that got turned around somehow. Take the story of the Carbollos being captured by the Lowlanders, for example.”

  “Not true?”

  Oberra chuckled. “Not true in the least. Oh, they were separated from the Pendernics, but it was not a glorified escape as told in the story. The Carbollo were unkind, therefore they were banished from the Pendernics, and sent to live on Extane.”

  “With the Mobbox,” Nerratel groaned. “I regret the day that happened.”

  “You are convinced the Mobbox would have been kinder to the Pendernics?”

  “I am sure of it.”

  “Then you shall be saddened to hear that the Carbollo did not go to live with the Mobbox. At that time, there was neither the Carbollo nor the Mobbox. They were the same Civic. The separation happened much, much later when they could not agree. It was then that you were given a king to rule over you, and a quest to decide the next king.”

  Nerratel could hardly believe it. “You cannot...I mean, the Mobbox are so very different from the Carbollo. How is it possible we were once the same Civic?”

  “Well, now, that is an altogether different story. Perhaps you shall find the answer as you look for your fifth bell? Try the archway directly behind me.”

  CHAPTER 19

  ON MIDDLE EXTANE, THE Boons relieved the guards and sat together in chairs on the balcony of the castle, just to make certain no one entered. Each time someone tried to approach them, he or she was waved away by one or the other Boon. Their robes still off, they pondered for a time what the old man in the castle told them, but the more they discussed it the more they began to believe the old man was right. It was not a happy thought for either of them.

  Boon Carbollo changed the subject instead to the woman he had not yet managed to marry for want of a new king. “Her possessions are in my home, but she is not. Would it be so unheard of for you to perform the wedding ceremony?”

  “Break tradition?” the Mobbox asked. “It is my opinion that once we begin to break tradition, the whole of society collapses.”

  “Perhaps you are right. We must wait until there is a new king, but not a moment more!”

  “Agreed. I am quite familiar with Nerratel. Indeed, I have always thought of him as a son. He is unmarried, has the charm necessary to get a Mobbox woman to marry him, and the wit to entertain her.”

  “Wit?” Boon Carbollo asked. Already annoyed because he could not marry right away, he did not appreciate the assumption that Nerratel would win instead of Raxton. “Is that what your wife demanded? I am afraid I am unfamiliar with your wit.”

  “You know very well what a Mobbox woman demands.”

  “Oh, of course. I had forgotten that. Mobbox women are not impressed with your status as a Boon. You must have wit, and apparently...”

  WHILDON CARBOLLO HEARD how the Carbollo cheered when a Mobbox got hurt. He did not approve, yet it was not his place to say, so he kept his disapproval to himself. A worker of metal, he put the sword he was making into the fire, let it get hot, withdrew it, and began to pound the edges to make them thin and sharp. When the metal cooled and became unyielding, he put it back in the fire.

  He had not seen Gincar since after Raxton and Nerratel went into the castle to begin the quest. Whildon was not worried. Gincar was always out and about somewhere. Normally she walked past where he worked a time or two each day, and although she rarely smiled or even acknowledged his existence, he had grown accustomed to seeing her. This day, however he became unusually concerned. Therefore, he set aside his work and went looking for her. He asked her parents, her friends, the people in the marketplace, and even rode his horse for a time on the Carbollo side of the mesa.

  Gincar was simply nowhere to be found.

  IN MOBBOX CITY, A FLURRY of activity was beginning to grow. No one could find Sarinna. Convinced they had looked everywhere, Palim, the leader of the Mobbox fighters, together with five Mobbox men, drew their swords, shoved open the large Mobbox City double gates, and headed for Carbollo City.

  From a window on the fourth floor of Carbollo’s city, the man keeping watch urgently blew his sheep horn, and no less than ten Carbollo men drew their swords, opened the front gate, and rushed out to confront the Mobbox. In the middle of the cobblestone courtyard, both small armies stopped.

>   Traker, the leader of the Carbollo men, asked, “Why do you attack us?”

  “Give us Sarinna or we are forced to fight you for her.” Behind the first five came more Mobbox men armed and ready to fight. On the balcony of the Castle, both Boons got to their feet.

  “Sarinna?” Traker Carbollo asked as the line of defenders also increased behind him. “Why would we take Sarinna? With a possibility that Nerratel shall be our next king, we...”

  “Yet, she is gone,” Palim Mobbox insisted, “with not a word to her mother. Sarinna does not fail to tell her mother where she is going. Reven Mobbox cries for her daughter.”

  Just then, Whildon came to the window on the fourth floor of Carbollo City and leaned out. “Have you seen Gincar? No one has seen her since the quests began!”

  By then, the argument had attracted quite a crowd on both sides in front of the castle. When Whildon asked about Gincar, the Carbollo shook their heads, while all the Mobbox shouted, “NO!”

  Boon Mobbox had heard enough, raised his hand as well as his voice, “Good Mobbox, put your weapons away and come to me.” No one was more astounded than he, when his words were completely ignored. Instead, the Mobbox fighters continued to glare and the Carbollo fighters glared in return.

  “Men,” Boon Carbollo started, “I...” He too was ignored.

  Whildon quickly ran down the three flights of stairs, burst out the Carbollo gate, and then rushed to the center of the courtyard. If he had reservations in the past about openly speaking to a Mobbox, he quickly forgot them and addressed the leader of the Mobbox fighters. “Palim Mobbox, when you searched for Sarinna, did you see Gincar?”

  Palim lowered his sword a little. “Come to think of it, I did not.”

  “Two women, one of each side missing?” Whildon thoughtfully muttered.

  Elder Kircom Mobbox had a little trouble catching up or he might have stopped his fighters at the Mobbox gate. As it was, he was nearly out of breath when he grabbed the sleeve of the Mobbox leader. “I wager Telder took Sarinna. He has been after her for months.”