by John White
Another soldier snorted, "Lucky! He would not dare sell the honey or use the silk. All Anthropos would know he harbored the royal weaver bees. Your lucky farmer would soon find himself-" He made a quick motion across his own throat. The children shrank back against the stone wall. What sort of justice was this?
The head soldier laughed. "He would beg Gaal to rid him of the monsters before they stung his cattle and sheep to death!" The Friesens jerked to attention. Gaal! At least the people of Anthropos still believed in him! The speaker turned to Shamith and Ildreth. His expression grew sober. "I do not envy your duties. Guarding the city gate is safer than tending the king's bees. But tell us, how did you hope to capture the swarm?"
Shamith winked and patted his leather pack. "As all renegades are caught-in a web of their own making! Ildreth and I carried fine nets of the weaver bees' own silk. As you know, it is like spun stone. The holes are far too small for the bees to escape. We would find the swarm at rest and cast our nets over them."
"Madness!" said still another soldier. "It is too much risk. I have been stung only once, when I chased a fool of an intruder who tried to steal honey. My foot ached for ten days and nights and robbed me of all sleep. It swelled so I could not think of wearing even a sandal."
Ildreth chuckled. "You recall the intruder was not so fortunate. So viciously was he stung that he did not live to be brought to trial."
Lisa felt her throat close with shock. They had been viciously stung, but their stings had disappeared. She recalled how Betty hopped up and down and sang out, "It worked!" What worked? Had Betty Riggs called on Gaal for help? But how could she, if she didn't know him? Did she use some trick? Could she use it now to set them all free? Lisa longed to ask Betty, but too many ears were listening.
The door in the wall swung open. The soldier reappeared and nodded once to his superior, who ordered the children "Into the passageway! Now!"
In single file, with a soldier in front and another behind, they entered the opening. It became a low dark tunnel, for the city wall was many feet thick. Still stiff from the raft ride, they stumbled and bumped into the walls and each other. Then for the first time in many Anthropos years (and for Betty the first time ever) they emerged into the broad streets and busy life of the royal city of Nephesh.
The Friesens had first entered Nephesh on the day Gaal freed it from its long captivity to the evil spell of the Dark Lord, Lord Lunacy. They watched from the city wall as King Kardia lifted up the royal orb and proclaimed a week of feasting to celebrate the city's liberation and his marriage to Princess Suneidesis. On that clay Gaal made the wicked city of Bamah, adjacent to Nephesh, sink down and become Lake Bamah for a defense on the north and a supply of water in drought.
This time they entered Nephesh as shamed criminals, with hands tied and guards all around them. A fresh escort of soldiers met them as they came out of the tunnel. The two Matmon were gone. In a swirl of sinister words the soldiers discussed the children's fate.
"What are the orders concerning the prisoners?"
"Take them to the dungeons to await trial."
"On what charges?"
"Treason and rebellion."
"By the hair of Gaal! They are young to have done such crimes!"
"In these matters the young are the most treacherous. They go about their business unnoticed. No one suspects them."
The Friesens grasped for hope when they heard Gaal's name. Yet "by the hair of Gaal" was a strange phrase. They had no time to think about its meaning. With a gruff command of "Get moving!" a soldier prodded them into action. They were now in the custody of two new soldiers, who marched them along it broad street of Nephesh.
They almost forgot they were prisoners as they plunged into the vibrant activity of the city. Color, noise, action, life swirled around them. Peddlers called out the praises of their wares from stalls shaded with bright awnings and hung with pots and pans, musical instruments, shoes, tools and goods of all sorts. A lutist played and sang a merry song. She was dressed too well to be a beggar, and she had no cup or upturned hat on the ground before her. The bright-colored doors of shops and houses opened directly onto the street, and every door was flanked with window boxes full of flowers. Farmers in muddy boots hurried along with crates of geese or ducks, undoubtedly bound for market. The birds thrust their heads between the wooden slats and loudly protested their fate. Stray cats and dogs, sleek as pampered pets, strolled back and forth across the streets.
The little parade passed food sellers' carts painted in bright stripes of red or yellow. Each one beckoned with more and more delicious smells. The soldiers carried on a lengthy discussion about what to eat while the children's mouths watered and their stomachs growled. At last the group halted in front of a seller of hot meat-stuffed rolls. The children's hopes soared, but the soldiers cared only for their own hunger. They wolfed down several steaming rolls apiece while the children watched. Then they tossed the leftovers to a fat old dog by the vendor's cart and ordered the prisoners to march on.
The group turned onto the broad main street of Nephesh and entered a river of people. Young and old, men and women, children of all ages-all were in a rush and all wore clothes of comfort and luxury. The younger people had on big floppy hats decorated with long bright feathers; the Friesens had never before seen the style in Anthropos. Everyone, no matter what age, strode along with eyes straight forward or on the ground slightly ahead. All looked as if they were on their way somewhere important.
The Friesens strained to find a friendly face among the crowds-if not a familiar one, at least a sympathetic one. They tried hard to catch someone's eye. No one so much as glanced their way. The further they went, the stranger it felt. Here they were, an unmistakable group of prisoners in custody, yet no one showed any curiosity about them or about where they were being taken. Not even young children stared or pointed. If the soldiers had not purchased food on the street, the entire party could have been wearing the Mashal Stone on one chain-and therefore invisible. Wesley recalled that even the food seller had not even looked at the prisoners or asked about them. Certainly he would have hoped to sell more meat rolls. Were Wes, Lisa, Kurt and Betty somehow all wearing the Mashal Stone? But if they were invisible, how could the soldiers guard them?
There was no clear answer. The group left the main avenue and entered a maze of smaller streets. For the first time ever in Nephesh, the Friesens felt lost and afraid.
Kurt tried to memorize all the turns of their route through the city. If they escaped, maybe they could retrace their steps and find their way back to the passage through the city wall. But he got confused. The harder he tried to remember, the more frustrated he became.
Betty Riggs walked as though her legs were numb. She looked as if she wanted to ask a hundred questions but was afraid to open her mouth.
At the entrance of a narrow cobblestone lane, it sign warned: Go No Further. The two soldiers never paused. They herded the children into the lane. It made a sharp turn and became narrower, darker and damper. Their feet slipped on wet slimy stones. Wes wondered, What is this, the slums of Nephesh?
They made their way around several more corners and stopped before a heavy wooden door. One soldier knocked a complex rhythm. In answer a panel slid back. Stern eyes peered out through a small, barred window. The soldier who had knocked reported crisply, "Four Regenskind arrested on the shore of Lake Bamah."
"We have received orders concerning them," replied a voice that seemed to belong with the suspicious eyes. "The charge is trea
"Rebellion and treason," corrected the second soldier.
The voice rose in annoyance. "Yes, yes, rebellion and treason! Do you think we are ignorant fools here? Enter and take them to the hall of inquiry."
The children never saw the rest of the watcher behind the barred window. As the door opened, their guards shoved them inside and down a dim stone stairway. From below came uncertain light, a bitter, smoky stench and a clamor of discordant voices. At the bottom of the
stairs they stumbled out into an airless room where weird shadows danced over hunched shapes. Kurt thought, Is this the hall of inquiry? Looks more like a waiting room. With a shiver he wondered what these people were waiting for.
Two distinct kinds of people occupied the room. One group sat on benches against the sooty walls. They were men and women of all ages, each with the unmistakable look of a suspect under arrest. Some appeared fierce enough to commit murder without a thought; others retained a sad dignity; others only looked bewildered. They sat silent or muttered to each other. The second group of people were no-nonsense officials in dark woolen tunics, armed with short swords like oversized daggers.
All the accused were seated. The officials were on their feet, except for a sharp-faced man with a wiry black beard who sat behind a table half-buried in documents. Crumpled papers lay around him on the filthy stone floor. The man sat facing the stairway. As the children and the soldiers entered, he was busy writing. They waited in front of the table a long time while he wrote faster and more intently.
An old man stood up from a nearby bench. He took a few stiff difficult steps toward the man at the table. "There has been some mistake," he began. A guard clamped him on the shoulder and started to push him back to the bench. The eyes of the elderly man flashed in the torchlight. Clearly he was accustomed to respect, not rude treatment. He said, "I have a right to address the Commander!"
The bearded official looked tip from his paperwork. His eyes met the steady gaze of the old man. After a moment he asked, "Well? What have you to say to me?"
"Only that you know I am innocent."
The one called Commander replied calmly, "You are accused of plotting to overthrow their majesties Queen Hisschi and King Tiqvah. The accusations against you are spelled out here in your papers." Which papers he meant wasn't clear because he did not refer to any as he said it. The Friesens puzzled over the identity of this Queen Hisschi. The name was unfamiliar. They could only suppose that Tiqvah had married since their last visit to Anthropos.
The old prisoner stepped closer to the table. "Who accuses me? I have the right to read the accusation. Where is it? No one has ever questioned my loyalty to Anthropos. I served as a captain in the army of King Tiqvah's father, King Kardia!"
"We know your military history, Charaban. You were once known as Charaban the Strong. Or was it Charaban the Mighty?" The Commander's eyes flicked over the old prisoner's bent form. "Your reputation is in ruins, and you have only your own stupidity to blame. The stories of your past cannot save you now. Sit down at once!"
The prisoner drew boldness from the very accusations against hire. "I refuse! I am innocent! Against all the laws of Anthropos you hold me prisoner! And I know why you single me out for injustice!"
The Commander raised his eyebrows and put down his pen. "Do you, now? And why do we single you out for this imagined injustice?"
Years of age fell away from the prisoner. He stood straight and proud. "It is because I worship Gaal the Shepherd, Lord of All Worlds!" If he thought his statement would get a big reaction, lie was wrong. No guards leaped to seize him. The Commander's expression did not change. He only remarked, "All of us in Their Majesties' service are followers of Gaal. I commend you for your loyalty. Indeed, it is admirable in view of the fact that no one has seen Gaal for some time."
The prisoner lifted his chin in defiance. "He shall come! We shall again see him in Anthropos. Meanwhile his worship is twisted and perverted. We cannot serve both Gaal and the lord of darkness." The prisoner's voice trembled. His courage failed as quickly as it had flared up. His posture drooped, and the years piled on once more. "I beg you, look at me. I am old, I cannot take the rigors of prison life."
The Commander turned back to his papers. "You should have thought of that before you planned your conspiracy."
"I planned nothing! I did nothing! It is all lies!" The guard forced the prisoner back toward the bench. With his fading strength the old captain twisted around, put both hands against the guard's chest and shoved. The move took the guard by surprise. He stumbled backward and nearly fell. The guard's face burned with rage and embarrassment that an old man had almost knocked him down.
The Commander (lid not bother to look at the prisoner again. With a casual wave of his hand he ordered, "rake him to the lowest cell."
A young official who stood near protested. "Sir, we cannot take Captain Charaban. Not yet. His inquiry papers are not complete. I believe they are there on the table before you. Or-or they may have fallen on the floor." The young man bent down and retrieved a handful of documents.
The Commander's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why do you take such an interest in the prisoner? Could it be you harbor secret sympathies with his cause against her majesty?"
Even in the dim light the young man's face registered shock. He replied, "No-no sir! Of course not!" He threw down the crumpled documents and turned to his companions. "We need no papers for the likes of him. You heard the Commander. Take the conspirator to the lowest cell!"
The guards could restrain the prisoner's body, but his voice was still free. As they took him through a door in the back of the room, he shouted out, "Is there no justice in Anthropos? Without trial she condemns the innocent!" The door slammed shut. The man's defiant cries echoed and faded away.
The hall of inquiry was now as full of silence as it had been full of noise. Most of the accused looked at the floor. The man behind the table swung his gaze around and gave full attention to the four children.
Betty Riggs was about to collapse. The Friesens had been through so much in Anthropos that nothing surprised them; yet they were alarmed. What was true and what was false in the painful scene they had witnessed? Was the old captain-Charaban-here on a trumped-up charge, as they were? Was he a combination of dangerous criminal and good actor? Or was he arrested because he served Gaal? But everyone here talked freely about Gaal. And why had he said, "She condemns the innocent"?
One of the children's guards coughed and dared to speak. "We have brought the young rebels, sir. Destroyers of the king's property. The ones who claim to be from some imaginary land called Cadana." He not only mangled the word Canada, he pronounced his butchered version "Ca-DAH-na"! Betty exploded with a loud nervous snicker. The Commander glared at her. That only made Betty more nervous so she snickered even louder. Lisa giggled a little but managed to control herself. Kurt didn't laugh because he suddenly felt very homesick. Even with all the problems back home, he wished he was there. He wanted to correct the soldier so he could hear Canada pronounced correctly.
The Commander looked at the children with new interest. "So the four of you destroyed some valuable property of the king?"
Wesley stood up straighter and looked the Commander directly in the eyes. He couldn't see how what he had done was a crime, but he couldn't let the others take the blame. "Sir, it wasn't all of us. It was me. The weaver bees attacked us-me and my brother and sister and our friend here. I had to kill them. I never thought they might belong to somebody, least of all the king."
The Commander's mouth twisted in what could have been an attempt at a smile. He gloated, "Then you admit you are guilty." (Wes fumed at that but kept quiet.) "And how did you do this deed?"
"With the-" Wes decided not to mention the Sword of Geburah. If anyone in Anthropos still knew what it was, they would never believe how he got it. They certainly wouldn't believe he had any right to it. He finished his sentence "with the weapon I carried."
"And where is that weapon now?"
Wes hesitated. He didn't know for sure, but he guessed it was still propped against the tree by the lakeshore. Lisa answered for him. "Of course he doesn't have. it. Those Matmon who arrested us wouldn't have let him keep it, would they?"
"Would they, sir?" added Kurt.
The Commander grinned. One of his teeth flashed gold. "You are wise beyond your years. I am saddened that young minds such as yours are so early turned toward-" His eyes widened. "Wait. You say the monsters attacke
d you. How many?"
"It was a whole swarm, sir," Kurt answered. "Hundreds. Probably thousands! They stung us about a million times!"
The Commander beckoned for a guard to bring a torch. He peered at the children in its smoky light. "You are liars!" he roared. "You are unmarked! If such a swarm attacked you, your bodies should be a mass of stings-if you survived at all!"
As soon as the words left the Commander's mouth, Betty Riggs came alive. Confidence flooded back into her face and her posture. She said, "I can explain that. I mean, I can explain that, sir." Everyone else, especially the Friesens, stared at her. The attention only prodded her to talk more. "It's because of something I did. I've always believed it would work, but I never had a chance to try it in a really bad situation."
The Commander looked skeptical. "And what did you do?"
"I decided the stings weren't there."
Lisa wanted to grab a handful of documents from the table and stuff them in Betty's mouth. Her ridiculous story would only get them into more trouble. She hissed, "Betty, don't talk rubbish! The stings were there!"
Betty didn't back down. "I decided they weren't."
Kurt scoffed at the idea. "You mean you pretended, and our stings went away? You must have a powerful imagination!"
Betty shook her head in a very definite manner. "I didn't pretend. I decided. And it worked! What I didn't expect was that it work for the rest of you too."
Wes was furious. Betty had stolen the credit, which belonged to Gaal the Shepherd. Gaal had given Wes the power to kill the bees with the Sword of Geburah. He must have taken away the hurt of the stings too. Of course! Why hadn't Wes seen that before? "Betty, you didn't do anything! Gaal was the one who protected us and took away those stings!"
"And you don't even know him!" Lisa added.
"I don't know who you're babbling about!" Betty returned.
"That's what we mean!" Lisa snapped at her. "You can't take credit for what he did and you didn't do."
The children could have argued for hours, but the Commander lost what little patience he possessed. He shouted, "You are not only liars; you are mad! If I did not have the word of the Matmon beekeepers, I would still confine you for madness. Now I must confine you for destroying the king's property and for madness!" He calmed down slightly. "I do not yet know who you are or why you came to our kingdom. I know we will uncover your true intentions. Until then-"
