Katherine spun around, facing a tall, lanky individual with an awkward smile, framed by tangles of black hair. “Hello, Lewis,” she said to one of Amanda Stewart’s employees. “I’m not quite sure what the hubbub is all about, but I think we’re going to find out soon,” she said while Maynard and the other council members consulted with Constable Brindle underneath the tree.
“I was leaving work at Amanda’s house when I heard the bell,” Lewis said. “I miss seeing you in the kitchen as much now that the Harvest Festival is over.”
“I’m back to my regular number of hours,” she explained, sensing that Lewis had feelings for her. “I hope you’re enjoying working for her and Oscar.”
“It’s a job,” he said with a grin, “though the Stewarts have enough tasks to keep me busy all nine days of the week if I wanted. I’ll be splitting and stacking wood starting tomorrow. It’ll be nice getting out of the hot kitchen.”
“I’m glad things are working out for you,” she said with a smile, noting that the five council members and Constable Brindle were heading for the front steps of the village hall. “Well, here we go, Lewis.”
“Say, what’s this all about?” someone in the crowd suddenly shouted at Maynard who looked ill at ease in the glow of the firelight. “And where’s Mayor Nibbs?”
Maynard held up a hand to prevent a string of inquiries from being launched as the other council members and the constable stood anxiously by. “I’m going to allow everyone inside the council room to hear what we have to discuss tonight since, by the looks on your faces, I know you have many questions to ask. So please proceed inside in an orderly manner and we’ll tell you what’s happening.”
“Where’s Otto?” a woman shouted. “Why isn’t he here?”
“As I said, proceed inside,” he kindly refrained, “and all of your questions will be answered.”
“Well they had better be,” someone muttered as people filed into the building, some sticking torches in the ground or leaving oil lamps on the front steps before they did so.
After passing through a small entrance hall with a staircase leading up to the second floor offices, the curious citizens of Kanesbury entered the council room which took up the remainder of the first floor. The wide chamber had several rows of oak benches divided by a center aisle. A long bench was attached to the walls on either side of the room. A pine table stood near the back for the council and the mayor to conduct their business. Six chairs were placed around the table, four in the back against the far wall and one on either side so the public could watch the proceedings. On rare occasions, the room was used for public trials with the mayor of Kanesbury serving as facilitator along with a jury of twenty-one locals. Several oil lamps were affixed to the walls and burning brightly, evenly spaced between the rows of high, narrow windows circling the room. A large fireplace against the west wall sputtered and crackled as it gently warmed the hall.
Everyone quickly found a seat, eager for the mysterious meeting to get underway. Katherine sat on one of the side benches at the end farthest from the table. When Lewis asked if he could sit next to her, she somewhat reluctantly, but pleasantly, said yes. Yet when she noticed the empty chair her uncle Otto would normally occupy at the table, she felt comforted that Lewis was beside her. No one in the room could ignore Otto’s conspicuous absence either, with some wondering if an illness, or worse, had befallen their beloved mayor. At last Maynard stood up.
“I know you’re wondering why we’ve gathered at this odd hour, so I’ll get right to the point,” he said, his eyes occasionally downcast and his voice sounding grim. “Mayor Nibbs had a strange visitor at his house last night, someone many of you have heard of in the past. Someone who…” He studied the crowd of concerned faces hanging on his every word. “Someone who had done great harm to this village many years ago.” An audible gasp filled the room as whispers spread among the onlookers. “Since there’s no easy way to tell you this, I’ll just blurt it out. Otto Nibbs was contacted by one of the Enâri creatures that had attacked Kanesbury twenty years ago.”
Several men stood up at once amid groans of panic and shouts of disbelief, demanding immediate answers from Maynard and Constable Brindle. But the boisterous crowd had been too rattled by the comment and it took several long moments and calls for order before everyone settled down.
“If we’re going to answer questions and leave at a reasonable hour, one voice at a time,” Maynard pleaded.
“We’ll try,” Bob Hawkins shouted, “but how else do you expect us to act when you tell us those Enâri folk are again on the loose? Where’d they come from?”
“Yeah, answer that!” another cried out. “Are these new ones? Or did the others wake up and escape from the Spirit Caves?”
More anxious moments passed before Maynard could again calm the crowd, pounding on the table to recapture their attention. Constable Brindle, sitting off to the side, glanced at him and raised his eyes, knowing it was going to be a long night.
“I promise to answer every question,” Maynard said. “But first let me explain what happened to the mayor last night and this morning–without interruption. Then after a few words from Clay Brindle, we’ll let you have at it. Sound fair?”
After everyone consented, Maynard revealed the details about Otto’s late-night Enâri visitor, its request for the Spirit Box bound with a spell by the wizard Frist, and of Otto’s brave yet foolish quest to meet with the Enâri creatures at Barringer’s Landing earlier that day. All were fascinated with Maynard’s urgent yet soothing words and the pictures they created in their minds. Everyone felt alone in the room, as if he were speaking to no other person. When he signaled for Constable Brindle to stand up and tell his part of the story, the mesmerized onlookers snapped to attention at the harshness of the constable’s voice in comparison, as if they had been rudely awakened from a peaceful daydream.
“Past noontime today, I rode out to Barringer’s Landing with one of my men to look for Mayor Nibbs,” the constable said, wiping a handkerchief across his brow under the warm scrutiny of the onlookers. “We found Chicanery wandering near an empty barn and thoroughly searched the area for Otto. We also discovered the remains of a few bonfires. No doubt the Enâri had made a temporary camp there, but as to where they’ve fled, I can’t begin to guess. My deputy and I investigated until the sun nearly set, but sadly turned up nothing else. We returned a while ago with Otto’s horse.”
“Surely you’ll search some more, won’t you?” a young woman on the side of the room softly asked.
Clay Brindle turned his head and saw the helpless look in Katherine’s eyes, feeling like a failure that his search for her uncle had turned up nothing. “Rest assured, Miss Durant, that we will resume searching first thing in the morning. I can’t make you any promises, but we won’t give up yet.”
“Like you’ve given up searching for Adelaide Cooper?” someone shouted disapprovingly from the crowd.
“We are still trying to find that dear old woman!” the constable lashed out. “But a limited number of men can only cover so much ground at a time. And by the way, have you ever joined in one of the search parties?” An uneasy moment of silence followed as the constable took several deep breaths, his face red with contempt. “I thought not. So unless you have anything helpful to add, a little less talk will go a long way toward keeping you from looking like a complete ninny.”
Maynard quickly jumped in. “Are there any other questions?”
“Just one,” an older lady asked after cautiously raising a hand. “If the Enâri are back–and I clearly remember how awful their first visit was twenty years ago–just how did they escape? Is that evil wizard Caldurian again walking among us?”
Rampant fear and speculation once more swept through the room as everyone old enough to remember the first Enâri invasion mentally prepared for another. Maynard pounded his fist on the table to quiet the crowd before nodding at Clay to continue.
“We have no proof that the wizard is back. Otto
told the council that only one of the creatures had visited him. He mentioned nothing of the wizard. Isn’t that right, Maynard?” he asked, directing the gaze of the onlookers back to him.
“Correct. We have no proof that Caldurian has returned. In fact, we know nothing about how the creatures escaped,” he said. “The Enâr who had spoken to Mayor Nibbs told him only to go to Barringer’s Landing to meet with the entire group. It wanted information about the Spirit Box and apparently nothing more.”
“So are we to assume then that the Enâri just happened to wake up on their own? How believable is that?” someone else piped up. “The wizard must be around!”
Maynard shrugged. “I can only tell you what we know, but if Otto ever returns, perhaps he can tell us more.”
“You mean he can tell us what doom awaits us,” muttered another.
“Let’s not panic,” Maynard insisted, waving a finger. “Let’s not conjure up a wizard in our village when we have no proof. ”
“That’s right,” a woman in the front row said, turning around in her seat to face those behind her. “No use getting frightened about things that haven’t yet happened.”
A moment of heavy silence fell as everyone contemplated the flurry of strange events. What did it all mean, and why was it happening now? Slowly, a man with apple red cheeks seated in the middle of the gathering shyly raised a hand. After clearly his throat, he uttered a few startling words.
“I can tell you how those wicked creatures woke up,” he said, his voice unsteady. “But I don’t think you’ll like hearing the truth–or that you’ll like me after I tell you.”
Constable Brindle craned his head forward, searching out the voice in the crowd. He wrinkled his brow. “Exactly what are you babbling about, George Bane? How do you know anything about those creatures?”
George slowly got to his feet, staring at the sea of perplexed faces. “Well, Clay, I think it might have been me who, uh, accidentally woke them up. It was on the first night of the Harvest Festival.”
Clay Brindle scratched his head, wondering if George had just come back from downing a few mugs at the Iron Kettle. “What are you trying to tell us, George? How is that even possible?”
“Well, I was celebrating the festival with a few drinks like everybody else that night,” he said, noting Gill Meddy, his drinking partner, out of the corners of his eyes. Gill suddenly turned a shade paler as he sat nervously against the side wall, though George had no intention of implicating him. “I’d been drinking alone when this stranger approached with a bottle of gin, a small pouch of money and a ridiculous bet. I think his name was Mune. He wasn’t from these parts. Anyway, who was I to turn down a free drink?” He went on to explain how, in a drunken stupor, he had accompanied the man to the Spirit Caves with the intention of exploring them on a dare. “I think I was supposed to make a lot of money on the bet, but only woke up inside the caves with an awful headache and a terrible fright.”
“As I recall, you were gone missing the next day for a time,” Constable Brindle said. “When you finally showed up, George, you didn’t mention anything about those caves. You had said you slept off your rough night in the woods.”
“I did say that,” he muttered apologetically, “though it was only half true. The sleeping part, that is, but most definitely not the in the woods part. I had been in those caves. I think I bumped my head while running away from–” George swallowed hard as fitful memories swirled in his mind. “They were inside the caves with me. And the voices and blue fog and…” He looked up at Maynard and Clay, happy to finally confess the dreaded details that still haunted him. He described a glass sphere he had carried into the caves that glowed blue and grew hot in his hand until he shattered it against one of the walls. He told of faces in the darkness and of the echo of footsteps in the wavering shadows as a blue fog rose about him like death itself. “It had to be a wizard’s magic,” he whispered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and lightheaded. He plopped down on the bench and buried his face in his hands, wondering how he could ever look at his neighbors again.
For several minutes, those gathered around him coaxed out more details of that mysterious night. None could help but come to the conclusion that the wizard Caldurian had sent an underling named Mune to release the creatures, and that George Bane simply had the misfortune to be recruited in the vile scheme. Most pitied him more than blamed him, figuring that the deed would have been done anyway, whether George had accepted a free bottle of gin or not.
When the commotion died down and Constable Brindle once again vowed to resume his search for Mayor Nibbs in the morning, one of the other council members stood up and called for everybody’s attention.
“In light of these developments and according to village bylaws, I think the council should appoint Maynard Kurtz as acting mayor until Otto Nibbs returns. Or is–recovered?” he clumsily added.
“Oscar, is that really necessary at this time?” Maynard asked.
“Well, you are the head of the council, Maynard, and village business has to be properly and legally conducted.”
“Agreed,” Len Harold said, seconding the motion.
With a unanimous show of four hands, Maynard Kurtz was appointed as acting mayor of Kanesbury. There was a round of polite, yet sober applause from the onlookers, though Maynard wore a troubled expression upon his face.
“I thank you for trusting me with this duty, though under the circumstances, I accept it with much regret and hope for the swift return of Otto,” he said. “And as we are now one council member short, I would like to offer up the name of Ned Adams to hold my previous spot for as long as necessary.” Maynard glanced at Ned who had been sitting in one of the middle rows. “Since business at the gristmill is slowing down for the coming winter, would you object to such an appointment, Ned?”
“I’d be honored,” he replied, standing up and offering a brief nod of acceptance.
After Len Harold officially offered Ned’s name for the position and Oscar Stewart raised a hand to second it, Ned Adams was unanimously welcomed as a member of the village council. He kissed his wife sitting next to him and then proudly took his seat at the table. He smiled at several people who wished him good luck, including Dooley Kramer who had just entered the building moments before and sat in the last row.
The brief cheerful interlude following the new appointments quickly dissipated when someone called out from the crowd. “So, Mayor Kurtz, just what are we going to do about the situation?”
Everyone knew that the situation referred to the missing Otto Nibbs and a mob of Enâri creatures presumably roaming the countryside and planning unspeakable mischief for the village. Most wondered how Kanesbury could ever protect itself from five hundred beings created through mystery and magic in a faraway land called Kargoth. All eyes were fixed on the acting mayor for an answer.
“I have faith in every member of this village and know we can confront any difficulty that arises,” he said. “And though I know my words may sound hollow right now, we have to rely on each other to get through this bleak time. That is where our true strength lies. That is where victory will be achieved.” Many in the audience nodded, taking comfort in his words and feeling as if a spring breeze had suddenly dispersed the autumn chill. All looked upon Maynard with newfound respect.
“However, a bit of caution and preparation never hurt either.” Len Harold spoke up a moment later, jarring everyone back to the reality of that cold night. “If there is no objection from either the mayor or this council, I’d like to volunteer to go to Morrenwood as an official representative of Kanesbury and present our case to the King. I’m sure he would be most interested in learning about these new developments and perhaps offer us protection should we need it. He and Otto are second cousins, so that should work in our favor.”
“Good idea, Len!” someone called out. And quickly the population in the village hall unofficially seconded Len Harold’s suggestion.
Maynard looked askance at Len, noticing that
the other council members and Constable Brindle seemed pleased with the idea. He stood up and quieted the crowd.
“It appears that everyone thinks this suggestion is a good one, so who am I to object?” he said. “Though I believe our village can handle any problems that come our way, I will abide by the council’s good sense in this matter and wish Mr. Harold a safe and successful journey.”
“I’ll leave the day after tomorrow with my eldest son,” Len replied.
Maynard then signaled an end to the meeting and dismissed the council. But for the next hour, the residents of Kanesbury lingered in the shadowy street outside the hall, discussing the startling events with one another and questioning the new mayor about the fate of their community. Katherine and Lewis waded through the crowd and congratulated Maynard on his appointment.
“I have complete confidence that your leadership will make us proud,” she said, giving him a hug. “Uncle Otto would be quite pleased with his replacement.”
“A temporary one, I hope,” he graciously replied.
“That goes for me, too,” Ned Adams piped up amid the chatter. “I want you to have your old job back as soon as possible so this village can get back to normal.”
Maynard smiled. “As do we all.”
“Now I must find my wife,” Ned added, glancing about the lively crowd. “She’s in here somewhere. Oh, and there’s Dooley,” he said, talking more to himself now than to the others. “I have to tell him about his trip to Morrenwood in the next few days.”
As a dozen conversations played out under the starry autumn sky, a man sitting on a horse cart farther down the road in the shadows watched the excited crowd for a few moments, noting the talk and exclamations echoing across the brittle night air. A thin smile formed on Zachary Farnsworth’s face when he heard the phrase Mayor Kurtz bandied about several times before deciding that it was time to leave. He gently snapped the reins on his horse as he disappeared into the night, sighing with satisfaction that his plans were finally progressing. He happily headed home after the long ride to the swamp.
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 39
