The Emperor's Ostrich

by Julie Berry

  Begonia shook her head. “You are the strangest person I’ve ever met.”

  “Having the right tools is very helpful,” he added, by way of confession. “Besides,” he added, “I had plenty of time while you were asleep to experiment with our lock. It was simple, really. They made it to keep tigers in. Not humans with fingers and brains and a bit of a lever.”

  Stormcloud reappeared and resumed her rightful seat atop Begonia’s shoulder. The ostrich began pacing up and down the road, puffing out his neck and hooting.

  “They’ll find us in no time if he keeps that up,” Begonia said. She looked up and down the road, then pointed to the right. “This is the way we were headed, so this road must lead to Lotus City.” She pointed to the left. “That means this is the way home.”

  “You’re the boss,” said Key. “Which way do we go?”

  She sighed. “Poor Alfalfa!” She turned to Key. “We’re so close to Lotus City. I think we should try to get Lumi out of prison.”

  “But your home!” said Key. “Your mother. Won’t she be worried?”

  His words smote Begonia’s conscience. “She will be worried,” she admitted. “Terribly. I hate to make it last longer.” She stroked Stormcloud’s paw. “But I think it would be better to trade a few more hours of Mumsy’s worry for the rest of Lumi’s entire life.”

  Key patted her shoulder. “You make progress, Maid Begonia.”

  “Quit babbling,” she snapped. “Who are you to decide if I’ve made progress or not?”

  “As a Noticer of Things That Are Lost,” he said, with injured dignity, “I couldn’t help noticing you had lost some of your loyalty to a friend back there in the woods. Well, not a friend, perhaps, but a companion. A comrade of the road. But here you are now, taking a great risk to try to rescue that same comrade.”

  “Thanks, I think,” she said. “Now, quit scolding and stop judging me. You make me feel like I’m back in school, with Madame Inkpot rating my penmanship.”

  They turned to the right and started walking. The ostrich followed. His was not the brain of the operation, and he seemed glad that someone had done the thinking for him.

  Moonlight bathed the road in pearl-blue splendor. This was much nicer than being lost in the woods by night. Begonia had never spent so much nighttime outdoors as she had this week. She was beginning to enjoy it. But her thoughts couldn’t remain long on nocturnal wonders.

  “It’s disgraceful what happened to Lumi,” she told Key. “I plan to speak to the chancellor about it. Or the emperor. Whoever isn’t kidnapped when we arrive.”

  Key whistled. “Speak to the emperor?”

  “If I can. Why not?”

  He scratched his leafy head. “It’s just … I’ve never heard of people doing that. Leastwise”—he gave her a sidelong look—“I’ve never heard of anyone living to tell the tale.”

  Begonia laughed. “What rubbish. What kind of an empire would it be if everyone who talked to the emperor was executed?”

  “I don’t know,” said Key. “It might be, pretty much, the kind of empire we’ve got.”

  “If that’s who the emperor really is,” she said hotly, “then I wish Lumi had kidnapped him. No, Poka. And locked him in the tiger’s cage.”

  “You’ll forgive my saying so,” said Key, “but even if the emperor should allow you to speak to him, what makes you think he’ll consider the opinion of a young girl?”

  “Oh, and I suppose you’d be much more persuasive, Mr. Boy?”

  Key threw up his hands. “Not that I don’t firmly believe,” he said hurriedly, “that in this view the emperor’s views are abominable. I myself am a Seeker After Young Girls’ Opinions. Every chance I get. But I’m unique in that way. A pioneer.” He doffed an imaginary hat from his head in gallant fashion. “It goes hand in hand with being a romantic.”

  Begonia trudged forward with grim determination. “I’ve been wandering far from home, chasing a cow in love with an ostrich. I’ve been held at bay in treetops by snarling panthers. I’ve been kidnapped by a wicked carnival man, and escaped”—she nodded to Key—“with a friend’s help. I’m following an ostrich. And I haven’t had a proper meal in days.” She pounded her fist in her hand. “I’m not scared of the emperor. The emperor had better watch out for me.”

  “Bravo!” cried Key. “So long as you don’t die.”

  “Anyway, thank you, Key, for getting us out,” she said. “I’d still be a prisoner without your help.” A thought occurred to her. “You’ve done it! You’ve rescued me in a heroic way.”

  He shook his head. “It needs to be in a romantic way.”

  Begonia laughed. “What could be more romantic than a midnight rescue from peril?”

  “Hmph.”

  “I mean it, Key. You’ve done it. You’ve fulfilled your quest.”

  He gave her a long look. “Does that mean you want me to go now?”

  Begonia paused. This exasperating person had been a thorn in her side for the better part of two days. Still, he had been helpful. And his company wasn’t all bad.

  “Not yet,” she said slowly.

  He smiled. “Good,” he said, “because I have a feeling you’re going to need a lot more rescuing where you’re headed.”

  24

  LOTUS CITY, AND TACKLING INJUSTICE

  Begonia, Key, and the ostrich reached Lotus City before dawn. The suburbs outside the city walls still snoozed through the final dreams of morning. Not even the roosters were awake to notice their mighty eight-foot cousin sauntering through the streets.

  Long before they’d arrived, Begonia remembered to share a plop of mustard with Key.

  “Mmm! Chicken noodle soup!” he had sighed.

  She shook her head. “You’re crazy. It tastes like honey-buttered toast.”

  “You have extremely odd notions of what honey-buttered toast tastes like. Perhaps they make it with chicken and onions and noodles in Two Windmills, but not where I come from.”

  They found a haystack next to a barn near the city walls and burrowed in for a bit of rest. By the time they woke, the morning sun was high in the sky, and the towers and spires of the emperor’s palace glittered in the morning light.

  “Time to talk to the emperor. Or the chancellor.” Begonia stretched her arms over her head. “Time to make one of them see reason.”

  “Hmm,” said Key. “I wonder.” So much golden hay protruded from his hair that it seemed he’d grown a halo. “Not that I don’t have the utmost faith in your plan succeeding, but in the spirit of having a fallback plan, just in case you don’t change the laws of the empire with one conversation, I think it’s time for me to figure out how one gets in and out of the palace dungeons.”

  They tied a short bit of twine loosely around the ostrich’s neck. He didn’t like it, but neither did he give them any trouble. They headed for the city gates and saw, to their horror, that Poka’s Carnival of Curiosities was setting up tents on a flat stretch of grass in a park just inside. For the emperor’s birthday, no doubt. Of course! Today was the day. They bypassed that gate to avoid Poka and company and traveled far around the perimeter of the city until they came to another, less used gate. They entered the city as nonchalantly as they could.

  “What are you two doing bringing that creature in here?” demanded a guard.

  “Present for the emperor,” Begonia stammered.

  The guard gave them an odd look, then nodded them in.

  The palace crowned the hill whereon Lotus City sat. All the city’s avenues climbed toward it, while streets and lanes spiraled around the palace like petals around a rose. But the palace itself! The closer they climbed, the more vast, more beautiful, and more terrifying it seemed. There were towers of carnation pink and arches of daisy yellow. Domes of aquamarine, battlements of tangerine brick, and carved pillars of purest green jade.

  “The emperor lives there?” whispered Begonia.

  Key’s eyes were wide. “So they say.”

  The sight of two young
sters leading an ostrich by a string attracted stares from passersby. Begonia became painfully aware of how grimy they both were. They wore peasants’ clothes, while the citizens of Lotus City wore gleaming garments studded with gold trim and silver filigree. She’d never felt so out of place.

  “Come on, Key,” she said firmly. “Let’s hide this big bird and do what we came for.”

  They reached the palace walls and saw acres of parks and gardens beyond, leading up to the palace itself. Outside one section of wall they found a gardener’s shed. Key popped its lock in no time—it was barely more than a latch—and they lured the ostrich in. The giant bird, who could never be accused of intelligence, went in without protest. Then they made their plans.

  “The chancellor, and the emperor, if he’s here, are likely still in bed or finishing their breakfast,” said Key. He sighed longingly. “Breakfast! Ahem. Let me sniff around the palace to learn how to get to the dungeons. I’d be less conspicuous if I went alone. Would you wait here with our feathered friend until I come back? I don’t want you approaching anybody from the palace without my spying on the conversation.”

  Begonia bristled. “I can talk to them without your help!”

  Key nodded. “I know you can. But if anything should happen to you because of it, who is there to know if I’m not around? A Finder of Things That Are Lost is loath to see his own friends go missing! I’ll hide in a bush and watch.”

  “You’re good at hiding in bushes,” Begonia teased.

  He winked. “It’s one of my special talents. I am a Communer With Small Foliage. Trust me, I won’t get in the way. But we’re the only friends either one of us has in this whole city. It may be bright and shiny, but I’m not sure it’s kind or fair.”

  She nodded. “All right. I see your point. I’ll wait here.”

  Key was visibly relieved. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Waiting an hour for someone, with nothing whatsoever to do to pass the time, can be torture. Begonia passed the first few minutes by finding a pail in the gardener’s shed and filling it at a nearby pump. The poor ostrich was probably terribly thirsty. Begonia certainly was. She guzzled from the waterspout, then brought the bird his drink. He seemed glad to have it.

  Then she waited.

  And waited.

  She began pacing along the palace walls. Just ten feet out, then back. Fifteen, twenty. There could be no harm in stretching her legs. Her explorations led to a gate, and then, just as she was about to head back again, the gate was flung open. She hid behind the open door before anyone could see her there.

  Three men emerged in majestic splendor: a tall one with thinning hair, dressed in white; a short one with long, dark, oiled curls, dressed in red; and a bald man who was enormously fat, dressed in blue.

  “How do I look?” the tall man asked the other two.

  “Regal,” said the fat man in blue.

  “Elegant,” purred the curly-haired man in red.

  “Lordly,” added Blue.

  “Im-perial,” suggested Red, kissing his fingertips.

  “Fine, fine,” muttered the tall man in white. “Greet the city, so forth, so on. Check. Blessings on the people, etc. Check. Cancel the birthday feast, and announce the death of Little Stinkface. The fiend who kidnapped him murdered him, but he’s, let’s see, yes, the criminal is being hunted down even as we speak.” Here his companions sniggered most unpleasantly.

  Begonia listened in horror. A kidnapper, hunted down even now? A murderer? And who was Little Stinkface? Could they mean the emperor? What else could they mean?

  “Next, schedule the funeral, two days of mourning, and when that’s done, you’ll present me with the scepter, and then the festivities will begin in earnest. Music, dancing, carousing.” He smiled a wicked smile. “And then, Camellion is mine! All hail, Emperor Baxa the Conqueror!”

  “A brilliant strategy,” murmured Short Red.

  “Truly tasteful,” added Fat Blue. “No one could ever suggest you were rushing things.”

  The tall man didn’t seem so sure. “Now, where are my remarks? Rudo, what did you do with the parchment?”

  Short Red, who was apparently Rudo, pointed to Fat Blue. “You had it last, Hacheming!”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Enough of this!” cried the man in white. “Both of you, run and look for it. Get back here quickly.”

  Begonia, watching this conversation, felt her heart sink. The young emperor had, indeed, been murdered. What an awful tragedy. And now this vain, petty man, this Baxa, would be the new emperor, divinely appointed to rule Camellion in justice and grace? Well, if he was in charge now, then justice was his job. Even if he himself seemed like a very unjust person.

  She popped out from behind the gate.

  “Sir?”

  “Yeagh!” yelped Baxa. He placed a hand over his heart. “My goodness. Ahem. You startled me, young”—he glanced at her dirty clothes and shoes—“person.”

  Begonia bowed. “My apologies, oh emperor. You are the emperor now, are you not?”

  The man held his head a bit taller. “Yes, I am.” He corrected himself. “I’ll receive the scepter in a few days, but, yes, by all means, certainly I am the emperor. Will be. Am. Essentially. Yes. There is no other emperor but me.”

  Odd, thought Begonia. She dropped to her knees. “Might I, oh emperor, tell you something I’ve seen that affects the empire greatly? Its safety and justice, I mean?”

  The thin mustache over the man’s upper lip curled strangely. “Something you’ve seen? Justice?” He glanced back toward the palace. “Out with it, then, quickly.”

  Should she trust him? Doubt grew inside her. But the snowball had begun to roll down the mountain. There was no stopping it now.

  “I’m a dairymaid, Your Greatness, from the village of Two Windmills. Two days ago, I left home in search of my runaway cow.”

  The emperor frowned. “Yes? So? What have cows to do with me?”

  “I found my cow,” she explained, “in the company of a very rude person. A small man, with long mustaches, riding on the back of an ostrich.”

  Baxa’s eyes grew wide. “A small man? Rude, with long mustaches?”

  Begonia was puzzled. “His mustaches aren’t the important part. You see, my cow fell in love with his ostrich, and they wouldn’t be separated. So we were forced to travel together for some time. I will be honest, though it may sound cruel, but you’ll see why it matters. He was a weak and pathetic person—”

  “Wait,” he said. “You said your cow fell in love with his ostrich?” He pressed his fingers into his temples. “Never mind. You were saying … Ah. Yes. Weak and pathetic. That’s him to perfection. But an ostrich?”

  “Why, do you know Lumi?” asked Begonia in surprise.

  “What? Lumi? Why should I know a Lumi? What kind of ridiculous name is that?”

  Begonia watched the soon-to-be emperor with a sinking heart. All those lessons and Praise Hymns, her whole life long, instilling such awe and respect for the divine emperor! He was such a disappointment.

  “His name isn’t the point,” she said firmly, “and neither are his manners.”

  Baxa ignored her. “It’s the ostrich that puzzles me…”

  “The point is,” Begonia said, “he’s a person who could barely comb his own hair, much less hurt anyone. But your soldiers came along and arrested him for kidnapping the emperor!”

  The would-be emperor leaned in close enough for Begonia to see the yellowish cast of his teeth through his growing smile.

  “They did?”

  “Yes,” Begonia cried, growing irritated. “He couldn’t have harmed a mouse, much less an emperor. Don’t you see? They arrested the wrong man. From what the soldiers said, it doesn’t sound like there’s to be a trial. He’ll just rot down in the dungeons forever, all because he looks like somebody else, I suppose.”

  Baxa pressed the tips of his fingers toge
ther. He looked positively giddy. “But this is wonderful! Why was I not notified?”

  Behind him, Begonia saw the forms of Fat Blue and Short Red come huffing into sight.

  “Found it,” sang Short Red, waving a rolled-up parchment.

  “I told you Rudo had it,” said Fat Blue indignantly.

  The aspiring conqueror held up a silencing hand.

  Begonia was losing, and she knew it, but she had to try. She felt tears begin to prick her eyes. “It isn’t fair,” she said hotly. “People’s lives shouldn’t be cut short just because they look like someone’s description of somebody else.” She wiped her eyes. “They say you’re supposed to be a divinely good person, but if you let this kind of thing happen, you’re just selfish and mean.”

  She caught herself. Had she actually said those words? To the most powerful man in the Three Continents? Slowly, she glanced up to see three faces peering down at her, like three vultures gazing down at a dying rat.

  “This young maid speaks courageously,” Baxa said slowly to his companions. Relief and hope flickered once more in Begonia’s heart. “She speaks her mind, and in so doing she informs us of a person, rude, short, with long mustaches, caught by the soldiers for kidnapping the former emperor, may he rest serenely with his ancestors, and carried to our very own dungeons. But she believes he can’t have done it, because he lacks the nerve.”

  Slow smiles spread across all the men’s faces. The man’s words ought to have reassured Begonia. The looks on their faces did anything but that.

  “We would speak more with this brave young maid about this matter,” he went on, “but time compels us to be elsewhere. My friends, would you escort this young person, in all hospitality, to a comfortable chamber where she can await further audience with us?”

  Begonia rose to her feet. “If it’s all the same, I’ll wait out here,” she said. “You see, I have a—”

  What she had, the soon-to-be emperor was not to know. Short Red and Fat Blue seized her by the shoulders and dragged her inside the palace before she could try to fight them off.

  It wouldn’t have mattered if she had.