Temptations of Pleasure Island
Page 13
“Well, looks like we’ve reached the end of the line,” Josh said. “And I want to say something—if this doesn’t turn out right, knowing you guys has been about the greatest thing in my life.”
“That goes for me too,” Sarah said. “Why don’t we all just say good-bye right now and tell each other what we feel—in case we don’t have a chance to later.”
“You think Goél won’t come through for us this time?” Dave asked worriedly.
“I’m still hoping he will,” Sarah said soberly. “We know he can. And if he does, someday we’ll remember this and we’ll smile. But I just want you to know, Dave—you’re a great guy.” Sarah went over to him then and, to Dave’s obvious astonishment, hugged him hard. “I think you’re wonderful!”
Dave swallowed. “I think you’re wonderful, too, Sarah.” He could hardly speak, but he returned the hug.
It was an emotional time for the Seven Sleepers. Beyond the great doors, the crowd shouted at some event that was going on, but they took this time to tell how they felt about each other.
Finally, Abbey, with tears in her eyes, said, “It’s strange, but I’m not so much afraid anymore. As long as we’re all together—that helps.”
At that moment the great doors slid apart, revealing steel bars. To one side was a single door, just large enough to allow a person to step through. All the Sleepers went at once to the bars and looked out into the arena.
There had been a wrestling contest, Josh saw. A badly beaten man was being carried off to the mines by Maeve’s followers.
Ten minutes later, he saw Sylvan and Kapo coming toward the small door. Sylvan carried a key, and he allowed the wrestler to step into the holding room.
Kapo looked huge, as indeed he was, and he grinned evilly at the Sleepers. “Well, you’ve had your fun. Now you pay the piper. Did you see how I flattened that fellow that dared challenge me?”
Not one of the Sleepers answered him, and Kapo laughed. “Scared spitless, eh? Well, I’m a merciful man. I’m going to give you a chance to make a decision. Instead of hanging, you can try your luck with me. If one of you beats me, you can go free. If not, well …” Kapo motioned to the coffins piled in the corner.
“I’ll take you on,” Reb said quickly.
But Josh stepped in front of Reb, blocking him. “This is my time, Reb.”
“Why, you little runt! You won’t last ten seconds! All right, then. Get out there. Say your farewell speech to the king.”
Sylvan swung open the door, and Josh stepped out into the arena.
He heard the screams and the cries that went up, but he paid no attention. Now that he was outside, he could see the hastily built gallows, with seven ominous nooses—nooses that awaited the Sleepers. He searched the crowd for a moment, hoping to catch a glimpse of some friendly face—Mark’s, perhaps, or Mr. Fletcher’s. He even had a vague hope of seeing Prince Derek. But no friendly faces were visible.
Then Josh walked across the arena toward the royal box, holding his head high. Glancing up, he saw that the king and the queen were both present today. He thought the queen looked distressed. He also saw Lady Maeve, her eyes fixed on him and that triumphant smile on her face. Behind the king and queen, Princess Cosima stood, and Josh could see that she was weeping. The crowd quieted down as he approached the royal box.
When he was close enough, Josh spoke. “We are no traitors to you, O King Leo. We came to bring peace to your country. The serpent that has stung you now sits by your side.” Josh pointed directly at the sorceress, and his voice rose above the gasp from spectators close enough to hear. “Though I die today, your time comes quickly, Maeve. You and all followers of the Dark Lord will perish!”
Maeve turned pale and made a quick signal with her hand. Josh heard a nearby gate clang, and he whirled about to see Kapo striding toward him. The giant looked ready to wrestle, even ready to kill. The match was on.
Josh had wrestled before, but not against anyone of Kapo’s size and skill. Another cry went up from the crowd, but Josh paid no heed. I’ve got to use his size against him somehow, he said to himself.
Perhaps the huge wrestler planned to crush his opponent in one mighty lunge, for Kapo did not hesitate. Laughing wickedly, he charged, more rapidly than Josh would have thought possible for a man his size. Josh held his breath.
When Kapo was only a few feet away, Josh called out loudly, “For Goél and the House of Goél!”
Kapo was likely not expecting Josh to be as calm or as quick as he was. With one swift move, Josh deftly turned, allowing Kapo to race by him like a mad rhino. The force of the big wrestler’s charge was too great to stop easily. Stunned by Josh’s quick dodge, Kapo plunged toward the gallows built for the Seven Sleepers.
With a loud crash, his head and shoulders slammed into the central support post. The whole gallows shuddered with the mighty impact. Kapo, stopped in his tracks, collapsed like a rag doll at the foot of the gallows. As the stands of spectators watched in total silence, the whole gallows creaked and groaned, then collapsed itself, as formless as the giant wrestler.
With a yell, Josh ran to the pile of timbers, stood atop it, and cried, “For the House of Goél!”
The crowd began screaming, “The Sleeper! The Sleeper! He has won his freedom! Turn him loose!”
Sylvan watched Kapo’s defeat from across the arena. It was obvious that Lady Maeve’s plan had gone wrong. She had been sure none of the Sleepers could defeat her champion, but he knew the wily woman had a backup plan, anyway. Now she sent another signal, which he saw at once.
Throwing back the barred door, he leaped into the waiting area. He grabbed the two girls by the arm and thrust them out into the arena. “We can find another gallows,” he grated. And his eyes narrowed as he eyed the tall poles that held torches for night events.
Then someone struck him in the back, hard, and he turned to see that it was Reb Jackson. He backhanded the boy and knocked him to the floor, where he lay shaking his head.
“All of you, get out there!” he ordered the boys. And he shoved each one through the doorway. Then Sylvan raced across the arena toward the collapsed gallows. No, the Seven Sleepers would not escape their fate of hanging.
Unbelieving, the king watched from the royal box. There were the Seven Sleepers, clustered together at the center of the arena. There was that deceiver Sylvan, gathering up the ropes from the fallen gallows. The king cried, “What is this? What is happening here?”
“They are traitors, my lord,” Maeve said calmly. “The Seven Sleepers have been proven traitors.”
At that moment a piercing shout suddenly rose above the din, and the king saw still another figure running into the arena and toward the Sleepers.
“Who is that? Who cries?” the king asked. This time he stood to his feet.
The newcomer stopped then, standing between the Seven Sleepers and the royal box. He wore a cloak with a hood, and his face was not visible. Voices everywhere were crying, “Who is that?”
The king again asked the woman beside him. “Who is that man, Lady Maeve? And what is going on here?”
Maeve tossed her head angrily. “I do not know, but he is a dead man.”
Suddenly the man threw back the hood, and a shout sounded from the spectators.
“Prince Derek! It is the prince!”
And then the king seemed to freeze.
Queen Tamsin arose and took his arm. When he faced her, she said, “There is your brave son, Leo. He is risking his life to save those young people. Is that what you want? Your own son to die to give a thrill to a bloodthirsty crowd?”
The king reeled backward as though his wife had struck him. He stared wildly about the arena. He saw Sylvan and his men hurrying to rig ropes to the torch poles. Then he realized what they were doing. They were building a makeshift gallows. Suddenly he leaped to the edge of the royal box and shouted, “Stop! Stop the executions!”
Sylvan heard the king. But he also heard another voice as he pulled the last rope from th
e destroyed gallows. It was the terrible voice of Maeve, and she was screeching, “Hang them, Sylvan! Hang them!”
Sylvan and his guards finished attaching the ropes to the light poles. Seven nooses once again swung in the breeze. Then he cried, “Now, Sleepers, let’s see what you can do with your necks stretched!”
16
Long Live the King!
When Sylvan heard Lady Maeve scream, “Hang them!” he nodded and shouted back, “They are dead!” As quickly as he could, he started toward the Seven Sleepers.
And then he saw that another figure was standing in front of them. Sylvan stared at the man in shock.
“Get out of the way, Mark,” he growled, “unless you want to die, too!”
“You’re not hanging anyone, Sylvan,” Mark Fletcher said, and his face was deadly serious. “I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone, but you’re not touching these youngsters.”
“You’ve lived too long,” Sylvan roared.
Sylvan himself had once wrestled. Without hesitating, he rushed at the youth. He launched a blow that would have stunned the young man so that his neck could be broken—if the blow had reached him.
But Mark Fletcher ducked, reached down swiftly, and seized Sylvan’s leg. He twisted and lifted, and the con man rose in the air. He turned a complete somersault and landed on his back.
Sylvan leaped to his feet and snarled, “I’ll kill you for that!”
Mark Fletcher waited, and the crowd waited, also. The arena was totally still.
Sylvan threw himself at Mark. His long arms went around the young wrestler, and he began bending him backward. Mark reached around Sylvan and joined his own hands, and the two struggled.
Although he had never been a professional wrestler, Sylvan was incredibly strong. It was a struggle of Titans. He laughed wildly. “You’re a dead man! I’ll break your back!” He applied all his force, expecting the younger, smaller man to bend. To his shock he discovered that Mark Fletcher’s body was like steel. Instead, the young wrestler’s arms closed about him more tightly, and he was slowly bent backward himself. Sylvan struggled manfully and cried out. But only by a mighty wrench did he free himself.
He snatched a knife from his belt then, and the crowd screamed, “No fair! Bare hands! Bare hands!” But Sylvan paid them no heed.
His young opponent let Sylvan circle him warily. Then, when Sylvan drove forward, Mark Fletcher simply reached out, grabbed his wrist, and flipped the master of the royal lottery so that the knife fell to the ground.
“Leave, Sylvan, and save your life!” Mark cried out.
Stunned by the young man’s strength and now defenseless, Sylvan turned and ran toward one of the exits.
As Sylvan fled, Lady Maeve rushed into the arena. “Hang those Sleepers!” she screamed at the guards.
“But, my lady,” one protested, “the king has commanded that the executions be stopped.”
Maeve whipped out a dagger. “I will personally slash your throat if you do not hang them! And the prince as well!”
The officer appeared shaken. He directed the other guards to seize and hang the Seven Sleepers.
Up in the royal box, Queen Tamsin cried, “Leo, they’ll all be killed!”
The king was on his feet. He could hardly believe what was happening. “Save them!” he shouted. “Stop the executions! Somebody stop the executions!”
At his father’s cry, Prince Derek looked up from the arena. “Do you want to see what your people are really like, Father?” Without waiting for an answer, he raised his fist and shouted to the stands, “Now, loyal subjects, protect your prince and the Seven Sleepers!”
Instantly the king of Pleasure Island was shocked to see men pouring out of the lower level of the arena. They came from every direction, and all appeared to be armed. Many carried bows, and these knelt in front of the king’s son and the Sleepers to form a line of archers. To the rear were swordsmen, and on the flanks were spearmen.
“These are your loyal subjects, Father!” the prince called up to him.
Challenged by so many armed citizens, the guards withdrew. Derek was safe, and the captive Sleepers were free.
At that point Lady Maeve knew that all was lost. White-faced, she started toward the king’s exit from the arena.
From behind her, Prince Derek cried out, “Guards, seize Lady Maeve!”
Maeve knew she had to get away quickly. She ran, pursued by Prince Derek’s loyal guards. She had gotten only halfway to the exit when she let out a terrifying scream. She felt as if she had been placed in the grip of some giant invisible fist and was being squeezed to death. She squirmed, shrieking, “No, my lord, I have done my best!” Then she crumpled to the ground.
Stunned silence fell over the arena. The king left the royal box. He ran down into the arena and threw out his arms. “My son!” he said.
The two men met, and the king was weeping.
“I’ve been wrong! I’ve been blind! Whatever has happened to me?”
“You will be all right in time, Father.”
King Leo straightened. He looked his son in the eye, and then he turned to the stands. He saw his wife smiling down at him, and he knew that he was about to do the right thing. He raised his hand and cried out in a loud voice, “I am no longer able to be your king! This is your king!” He reached back and drew Prince Derek forward. Now he held the prince’s hand high in the air. “Long live the new king!” he shouted.
And the arena echoed with the cries of the people. “Long live the king! Long live King Derek!”
The Sleepers remained clustered in a small group. All were silent until Jake said, “Well, I didn’t see Goél here anywhere, but somehow I have the idea he was behind all this.”
“Long live the king,” Josh said. “And Derek will be a good one.”
The ship heeled over as its white sail caught the breeze. The water was green, almost emerald, and white clouds were undulating overhead, filling the blue sky with their bulk.
“This is sure the life,” Reb said contentedly. He stood beside the jib sheet, holding onto one of the lines.
All the Sleepers were up in the bow, enjoying the warm sunshine and the breeze. It had been two weeks since the showdown in the arena, and they had sailed from Pleasure Island that morning. They had waited just long enough for the coronation of Derek, even though all had begged them to stay longer.
“Life will be different on Pleasure Island now,” the new king had pleaded. “We need your help.”
But Josh told him, “We must go. Goél always has other tasks for the Seven Sleepers to do.”
As Josh glanced back in the direction of the island, now fading from view, he said idly, “You know what, Sarah?”
“What?” Sarah asked sleepily. She was sitting beside him, her back to the mast, and braiding her hair. The sun caught the blackness of it, and he said suddenly, “You have the prettiest black hair in the world!”
“Why, Josh, you never said that before!”
“Well, I’m not good at saying things like that.”
“Why don’t you write a poem about it?” she teased.
“Maybe I will.”
“What were you going to say before you fell into raptures over my beautiful black hair?”
Josh gave a laugh. “I was thinking how glad I am to get away from Pleasure Island.”
“So was I,” Sarah said. “Life with nothing but pleasure sounds so good. But look at all the problems people brought on themselves when they tried to live that way.”
“I know. And I’d like to do something easy now.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, like fighting a T-rex or capturing a saber-toothed tiger alive. Something like that.”
Sarah smiled and nodded. “I understand what you mean. Pleasure Island has been anything but a pleasure.”
“I guess we’ve all learned that having fun shouldn’t be the most important thing in the world.” Then he looked a little anxious. “But we’re not going to give up fun entirely, are we
?”
“Indeed not. In fact, I’ll race you up to the mainsail. The loser has to wash dishes after supper tonight.”
Josh and Sarah ran to the mainmast and began climbing the shrouds. When they got to the top, they were swayed from side to side as the ship cut her way through the water. Both looked back then, just as the island disappeared into the mist.
Sarah sighed. “And now that Pleasure Island is out of the way,” she said, “we can get on with other things. What do you suppose Goél has in mind for us next?”
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More exciting adventures from the Seven Sleepers. As these exciting young people attempt to faithfully follow Goél, they learn important moral and spiritual lessons. Come along with them as they encounter danger, intrigue, and mystery. Ages 10-14
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