As the days passed, Mongho was getting used and adapting to all the space of his room. One morning, as he was about to finish a very important experiment, he received an unexpected visit from a king’s messenger, bringing an unusual order. The messenger announced the wizard that he would take the day off, followed by an intriguing letter: My dear, no living being can function properly without a little peace and quiet from time to time. Mongho hide a laught. Although it was quite busy, there was no way to argue. After a few minutes, he left the room, and the voice of employees slid through the halls, calling his attention. Quickly, he climbed the steps into the buzz saw a cluster of people on the landing door. He followed them and struggled to get a space, in order to see what was causing the commotion. He squinted into the welcoming committee; before him, a group went beyond the gate holding the royal coat from King Kchaos, Queen Driadh’s father. Only then he remembered that a few days ago, he knew that the neighboring king would pay a visit to king Alphonsus. He regretted, it would have to find something to fill his time, otherwise he would go mad.
When Mongho wasn’t doing his experiments, he could be seen sitting under branches flowers in the garden, engrossed in a magic book. But he decided to follow his friend’s advice and take the day off, glad to be able to search about the frame from the east wing. He decided to look for Heian in the throne room. He knew Heian liked stories, and perhaps he knew the woman portrayed. The day was just beginning and, however, he was out of his routine, wanting to hear stories.
The throne room door was open, with two guards watching it from the outside, in the hallway. The three greeted him with silent stares, nothing more. Mongho saw Heian at one end of the table, in the company of a lot of scrolls, maps and a silver bowl of various fresh fruits, taking in dispatching documents of various subjects.
“I can see you’re very busy!” noted Mongho, standing at his side.
“More than I’d like...” Heian looked up for a few seconds from the papers. His face was of utter dismay.
“I can come back another time.”
“Please, my friend, stay! I will sleep on the table if I keep on this quiet.” He returned to sign the papers after moisten the quill in the ink.
“If you want, I can make some explosions.” The magician picked up an apple, laughing as he carried the fruit to his mouth, giving a considerable bite.
“Let’s not be so extreme.” Heian smiled.
“Is there anything that can be useful?”
“Unfortunately not. They’re documents, deeds and taxes. I need to read them and dispatch them. But what brings you here? Looking for work on your day off? It wasn’t past even a half an hour and you’re bored already?”
“No, no!” he answered with his mouth full. “Actually, I came to ask you a question, but I see you're busy.”
“If it’s just a question, can I stop to answer it.” The king left the pen on the table and looked interested. Mongho’s neck jumped as he swallowed the apple without chewing.
“Some time ago, I was lost in the castle and I ended up in the abandoned part of the east wing. Between one and another door, I came across a room, still decorated...”
“I know which room you’re talking about. It’s really the only one that the decor was kept. It belonged to my uncle Nerian” explained Heian.
“It caught my attention for being different from the rest of the castle. After getting in and removing the cloth that covered the window, I noticed that the wall had marks...”
“I know, I know... From other paintings...” Heian interrupted again. “Get to the question, please.”
“Well, do you know what is the history of the single frame’s left?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” Heian clapped his hands on the table, pushed his chair back and stood up, laughing. “There is a simple answer, there is a whole story involving this painting. It took you too long to finding it!”
“Actually, it’s been awhile.” Mongho flashed a wide smile.
Heian stopped in front of a bay window, watching a couple of birds that traced in circles, in the blue sky. The wind was gentle, swaying treetops. Heian looked at the castle’s main gate and saw cartload with goods coming in and out. He looked away to the garden just below the window and smiled at Queen Driadh coming through the rose bushes, with the basket full of flowers and rosy cheeks from the sun. She waved at him, bathed look of tenderness. It was late spring, but the well-kept garden kept the lush colors.
“Today is a beautiful day to tell stories!” he said, taking a step back. He turned to Mongho and started toward him. “Let's go?”
“After you, Your Majesty!” The wizard bowed smiling.
◆◆◆
They went down the stairs and crept through the shadow to the garden entrance. The sun had reached its highest point, and it was as hot as the previous days. They walked to the nearest bank of the entrance, where they found the queen overseeing the work in its cherry trees, in which the flowers began to wilt. The garden was a nice place, lush, with a delicate and ethereal beauty. The queen smiled to see them, but she didn’t interrupt their business.
Accommodated on the stone bench just below one of the ornamental trees, king Heian filled his lungs with fresh air and created an atmosphere of mystery, as it was in his nature, before he started to tell the story he had heard from his father.
“This story is old, Mongho. One of our family drama.” His voice was solemn. “Each time my father told me, he would take out or add some parts, so I’m not sure what the real version. I will tell that I remember to have heard for the last time, when I was still a child.” Mongho nodded. His eyes gave off a glow of satisfaction. He felt as if he had gone back to the time when he was a child. The memory of his father telling bedtime stories became vivid in his memory. Thus, he leaned comfortably on the bench and let himself get involve in the Heian’s words.
“My grandfather, King Nitrian, was the youngest among three brothers: Tiberios, Nerian and Nitrian, children of king Breetan. Tiberios, being the eldest, would occupy the throne as the successor of my great-grandfather, but at sixteen years old, he fell off a horse in a race and died. The throne then passed to Nerian, who had just turned sixteen.
“Nérian was a young man full of energy. He loved life and enjoyed traveling between the villages of neighboring kingdoms, learning their cultures. He didn’t mind the title of king.
“Unconditional admirer of nature, his favorite pastime was collecting works of art, mainly paintings, where he immortalized the moment through the magic of brushes. He saw the beauty in everything, even where there wasn’t.” Heian laughed to express his opinion. “On a beautiful afternoon, it reached his ears that a strange visitor, a new artist with great talent for painting, had undergone Heilland on business but had left our kingdom and returned to Malecs two days before. Nerian went to the village looking for his work, finding it with a local merchant. Delighted with his art, set off in search of the artist, without knowing where Malecs was.
“Nerian wandered for many days in search of the magic gate, which was the only entrance to the kingdom of Malecs. He faced cold, hungry, slept with animals, and even then, remained relentless in his pursuit. Then, on the twentieth day, the gate became visible. Wasting no time, Nerian crossed it, knowing that remain visible only for a few minutes.
“Upon entering, he was fascinated by the beauty and delicacy of the place, thinking that nothing should have been changed since its creation, and possibly nothing would be changed in the future. Everything there conveyed the feeling that the time had yielded to a dream which never wished awakening. The place represented all that was good: life, beauty, nature and something else. It was really magical! Once Nerian stayed in an inn, he walked in the place looking for the painter, and he was amazed by how the inhabitants practiced magic. It was like the complement of their bodies, as natural as breathing. It was then that he met Nadjra, a young witch equipped with the most admirable beauty that his eyes had ever seen. Just get all the charm of
old beauty, but she was very impulsive and ambitious, and she was upset that place, seeing it as a prison. She wanted to travel and see different places and people.
“So Nerian, delighted by her strong and wild eyes, and by similar desires with his own, he was presented as the future king of Heilland and invited her to accompany him to his castle, where he would marry her and make her queen of his land.”
Heian paused for a moment. He and Mongho rose to greet queen Driadh, she walked with her handmaidens. Then they sat down again. Mongho waited in silence. Heian continued.
“Nadjra, seeing this invitation as a chance to enrich and at the same time, to escape from Malecs, she didn’t hesitate to accept Nerian’s offer without even knowing him. Before returning to the castle, Nerian met the painter and asked him to immortalize her beauty in a painting. Days later, they went to Heilland.
“Time passed, and with it came the truth. Nerian discovered Nadjra strange taste for black magic, but he was too in love to care which way the magic she had chosen. Also, he didn’t want to be the next king, because then, he wouldn’t have much time to devote himself to his beloved wife.
“One day, right next to his coronation, tired of pretending to show interest in the affairs of the court, Nerian went to his father and informed him, his wish: he didn’t want to be king.
“Although Nitrian, the youngest prince, was only fifteen years old, he was very intelligent and well mastered on weapons. King Breetan, who had already lived many harsh winters and was proud of his white beard, he didn’t have more good health, and named Nitrian as his successor. Nadjra became angry when Nerian her, his decisions and wanted to force him to recant his father, asking for an apologize and the throne back.
“But Nerian had already decided not to reconsidered his decision. Then she left him, fleeing the castle during the night. Days later, some wizards and witches of Malecs, desperate, came to the castle looking for her, claiming Nadjra had stolen from the village a very important object. As she had already left, he couldn’t help them.
“From then on, Nerian spent his days sitting in front of the frame, watching it as he cried. He didn’t see pleasure in living anymore and he didn’t feed properly. He was languishing to death. It happened the same with some servants who entered his room. The wing was abandoned and closed, and the picture remained covered, so no one else was trapped to it.
“The ancient inhabitants of the castle said the picture was cursed, but no one could destroy it, because the beauty of Nadjra bewitched who look or touch it. The old ones said that Nadjra married a wizard, and they had a son, but she also left them and went to live in a hovel near the swamp, near the forest entrance, where she lives to this day.”
To hear the outcome of the story, Mongho, who listened in silence, rose abruptly from the bank.
“By the beard of the kings who are gone!” he exclaimed. “It is an extraordinary story! It may be true, but it makes no sense. I saw the picture and I wasn’t attached to it. I met the witch who lives in this hovel and she didn’t look anything like the girl in the picture. And how could it be that story must have a hundred years? And where did these magicians of Malecs came from? As far as I know, they ceased to exist ages ago!”
“You know, witches and wizards live longer than ordinary people.”
“Yes, I know. But if it were her, she would be looking the same as the picture, or maybe just a little older. The Malecs witches don’t age!”
“I said that the story was changing with time. It cann’t all be true” Heian replied, laughing at friend’s questions.
Faced with that argument, Mongho was silent and thoughtful for a moment. He blinked after all, while a thicket of questions haunted her mind.
“Let's say I believe your story is true.” He sat down again. “If she fled the castle, married and had a son, where her abandoned family live now? If they haven’t been affected by a plague, they must be alive too.”
“I told you, Mongho, it’s just a story!” Heian put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. For a moment, he looked at Mogho with curiosity. “What is it? Why are you giving so much importance? And how did you meet the witch of the swamp?”
Mongho coughed, surprised.
“Well, nothing, of course! I was only curious to know the outcome of the story.” This time it was he who put his hand in Heian’s shoulder with a hidden smile. “And how did I meet the old witch?! This is a long story to tell you the other day.” They were both laughing a lot.
The setting sun scratched the lower hills with long shadows, and the afternoon light hung over the landscape as they entered the castle premises. The time had passed and they didn’t even noticed.
Heian spoke so quietly that exuded peace around them. Mongho felt a strong affection for him. He saw Heian as a true brother. Genuine links that broke the social differences. Feelings flowed Mongho’s heart to think of the promise he had made to the queen. He would strive to fulfill it, even if it cost him his life... and it almost cost.
CHAPTER VIII
The tremors coming from Mongho’s room increased every day. The servants were afraid to go through there, afraid of what might happen.
Although he didn’t like that, but as he needed more information, Mongho hired mercenaries to look for old books and objects of magic spread across kingdoms in exchange for a good amount of gold coins. In less than three months, these men returned with many articles and books. The Mongho library widened. He had now a wide variety of documents on various types of magic. Some were true and others useless, but none approached the topic he was looking for: herbs.
He hasn’t discovered until that moment, what is the purpose of the herbs ordered by Prince Sulco. He considered the idea of returning to the old witch’s house to get some information, and also, to know if the story of the picture was true or not. Sometimes he thought that he was giving more importance to that subject than he should, but, anyway, he lacked the courage to go back to the swamp.
After much training, he managed to completely control the fire, which made him more excited about his achievements. Now he was training the earth element. So the tremors had increased.
Mongho followed his initial idea, to build secret passages to ensure a fast and safe escape, if the castle was invaded. Thus, he opened and closed several underground passages, creating paths leading to different points inside and outside the castle. There was only the east side, but he thought the best to do, it would be only when he was sure that neither the prince Sulco nor Cerbus would be there.
◆◆◆
Heilland was prospering every day with Heian’s reign. His business exploits - one of them was the decree lowering the value of the collection of taxes on goods - reached the ears of the neighboring kingdoms. And so, more and more merchandise cartloads crammed crossed the gates of the city. The fair seemed a hive of activity as crowded.
The villagers loved their king, he was complacent and concerned about the welfare of his subjects. They were happy and lived in party. They had more willingness for hard work at harvest time, in preparation for the arrival of winter.
Prince Sulco remained in the east wing and he was hardly seen in the castle. Gradually, he was taking all the wing and making it his way. It was like a castle inside the other, with their own servants, cooks and guards without any ties with the rest of the castle. Despite the power he possessed in the east wing, Heian was the king, and this frustrated Sulco.
In recent days, queen Driadh was unwell and got visited by healers in her room. Everyone feared she could have the same disease that took queen Arapia to death, and so, they redoubled care. For everyone’s joy, her unwillingness didn’t last long; then she returned to be the beautiful and radiant queen as always. She walked in the halls carrying a smile on his lips, and singing songs from her land. The sound of joy was like crystal echoing. In the mornings, she was seen in the garden, walking and picking the flowers she loved. She learned with great taste the office of embroiderer. Not that she needed, but she wa
nted to take a little of her time with something different, besides visiting the village, buying a little something here and there, and distributing donations to the unfortunate.
Over time, her clothes didn’t fit her anymore. She had gained a few pounds and a small bulge was could be seen discreetly under her clothing in her abdomen. She was pregnant! After confirming with a healer, she could tell her husband.
◆◆◆
The sun painted the horizon with orange and red tones and beyond Bulgari mountains, when Driadh sent a message to Heian, requesting his presence as soon as possible. There was a very important issue to deal with. A similar message was sent to Mongho, that being closer to her room, came before the king.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty!” Mongho bowed and approached the queen, who was embroidering by the window. “I’m at your disposal!”
“Please Mongho, we don’t need all this formalities, we’re friends!” She smiled and put the embroidered aside. While they were exchanging greetings, Heian entered the room, gasping. His face still showed more concern to see that Mongho had also been called.
The Secret Of The Crystal Skull Page 9
