by Brad Stucki
“Greetings, Prince.” A Man stepped forward and bowed. Pale. No pelt. Dark hair on his head and face. He was dressed in the same dark uniform, though the symbol on his breast was a brilliant set of gemstones rather than embroidery. And his eyes. They were a curious black that made one want to look twice just to make sure of what they’d seen.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Yah’ Winn. Mulda’ fi. I came to offer my services to your father. As you can see he has graciously accepted.”
Siri’s grip tightened more, and he turned to her. There was a look in her eyes he couldn’t decipher, looking deathly afraid to speak.
Yah' Winn noticed and smiled. "I seem to have that effect on people."
Sohorkon turned to his father, who lifted his hand and beckoned him closer. Siri moved with him, as if afraid to let go. To tell the truth, he was glad of the contact.
“Father. You’re not well,” Sohorkon kneeled and took his father’s hand. “What's wrong? Why are these people in the city?” Sohorkon knew he had to be careful, but he couldn’t fight back the words.
“Your father has fallen ill, I’m afraid,” the Keeper had moved with him and now stood to his father’s side. The other, Yah’ Winn, dismissed the Pontu’ Gi and came over to join them.
“His illness has mystified the physicians,” the Keeper continued. “He's been very weak for a long time. It came upon him just after you and the Crown Prince left with your delegation to Putra’ Fi Sorro.”
Sohorkon stared at the Keeper.
“Just like the Queen,” Siri whispered under her breath.
Then it hit Sohorkon. The queen of Putra’ Fi Sorro had also been stricken. Right before troubles started there. This was no coincidence. His father’s life was in danger!
Had he been the only one to hear? Siri was very close and had said it for his ears alone.
“My son,” his father gripped his hand feebly. “Your report. What of your brother? What of your mission?”
It was routine enough, but strangely he felt as if his father knew something had gone wrong. Of course, he knows something went wrong! He only has to see my tattered uniform . . . And Siri.
Sohorkon looked into his father’s filmy eyes. Something was behind them, struggling to come out, to say something, but he just wasn’t strong enough.
“We were attacked father. A man was leading a band of these . . . Pontu’ Gi! We were overwhelmed.” Sohorkon hesitated. “Sauros commanded me to leave. To bring word. He knew we couldn't win.”
Sohorkon stared at the Keeper and the other who called himself Mulda’ fi. “The Pontu’ Gi father! They attacked us!”
The Mulda’ fi’s face darkened. The Keeper’s brow furrowed, and he turned to the one who called himself Jah’ Winn.
“Your brother! Where is he?” The king’s voice was strained.
“Captured . . . maybe killed. I don’t know for sure. I circled back as best I could after escaping my pursuers. There wasn't a trace of Sauros. They left the other bodies. No other prisoners were taken.”
“Everyone else killed?” His father gazed into his eyes.
“Yes.”
“It has started.” The other being, Yah' Winn, stepped forward. His presence seemed to hover over Sohorkon and his father.
“It was just as I’d said, is it not?” He turned to the Keeper.
“It is, Sire. Yah’ Winn said it would be so. The Time of Trouble has started. It is according to our oldest records.”
Siri clutched his shoulder and he looked as she directed an astonished look at the Keeper. She was a Keeper too, knew the records. It was clear she didn’t agree with his Keeper.
Yah’ Winn ignored the interaction and continued. “It was a renegade band of Pontu’ Gi. Not all follow me, but I will gather them in. You have my word. If your son is with them, I will bring him back also.”
Sohorkon knew the man was lying. He knew he was behind it all. He hadn’t any proof. He didn’t even know the man. But he knew just as surely as he was alive. It was his instinct again, and this time he was going to listen. Siri knew it too. He could feel her reaction went even deeper than his own, and she knew more about the legends.
Before Sohorkon could speak, Yah’ Winn spoke again. His tone seemed respectful, but there was a faint scowl to his voice that made Sohorkon grind his teeth.
“Sire. Who is this other your son has brought here? Is it wise for others to learn of these troubles? What would the people say if they learned your sons have been attacked by a renegade band? They may think that my . . . your Pontu’ Gi were part of the attack. It must not be allowed to spread until I can make it right.”
This stranger had no right to question him in this manner! Sohorkon was about to tell him so but his father spoke first.
“You are right.”
Sohorkon caught his breath. His father continued. “Who is she?” His eyes, however were softer, not accusing, merely curious, malleable. Something was very wrong. His father would never act this way of his own accord!
Sohorkon stood and acted as if making a formal presentation at court. He could do nothing else. He needed time to figure this out. Siri deserved this anyway. It might help once they knew who she was. The trouble was, should he tell of how they met? How her princess has also been abducted – again by a supposed renegade band of Pontu’ Gi? And led by Saballa, a second to the Conservator of Putra’ Fi Sorro.
“Allow me to present Siri’ Bhu of Putra’ Fi Sorro. She is the Chief Keeper.” With perverse pleasure Sohorkon noted his own Keeper’s eyes grow wide, and again he turned to Yah’ Winn. There was something between the two. Yah Winn ignored the look.
“Why is she here?” Yah’ Winn pressed.
“That is none of your business.” Sohorkon said. He'd had enough. It was time he started ridding his city of this . . . Mulda’ fi. He also needed to get his father alone. He needed to figure out what was happening. “It is for the King’s ears only, as is the rest of my report!”
The man bristled but held his tongue for just a bit. When he spoke again it was with a feigned mild tone.
“I’m sorry, my Prince. It is just that I am concerned with all things. Things even beyond your city. There is a Time of Trouble coming, both Keeper’s here can tell you. There is nothing I cannot concern myself with if I’m to help not only your city, but Putra’ Fi Sorro as well. Indeed, all cities on your world need my help and protection.”
He was smooth, but Sohorkon knew his father would never believe without proof. And even then, he would never have let them take over the city . . . and the palace. Perhaps that’s why he suddenly fell ill.
“We were attacked!” Siri fell to her knees in front of Sohorkon’s father. “I was with the Princess out looking for your son. Attacked by a band of Pontu’ Gi!” She grasped his feeble hand and held it fast. “Please, Sire. Be careful of this man and the Pontu’ Gi. I too am a Keeper and know the records. They never mention a band of renegade Pontu’ Gi. And this man who calls himself Mulda’ fi. I have met another I know to be Mulda’ fi. Really Mulda’ fi. His name is ‘Javin.’ Is it not a strange? I know this other to be good. I am not sure of him!” She thrust a finger in Yah’ Winn’s direction.
“Please trust your son.” She ignored the open fury in Yah’ Winn’s face. “Sohorkon has seen these renegades -- fought them. Maybe he could identify any in the city? That is a way you could tell if these are true!”
Had Siri noticed his recognition of the one Pontu’ Gi? She must have. Siri had also mentioned another Mulda’ fi. This Javin. He didn’t know whether he’d accept him either, but at least he had not taken over his city.
There was a gasp from the other Keeper.
“Sire! You can’t trust this . . . outsider!” He swept his hand dismissively. “After all, you saw the proof. The demonstration of power, his knowledge of the legends, his very appearance matches that in the Book of the World!”
“This other looks just like it too,” Siri pleaded. “And I also know of his powers. The p
owers that are intended for good. Not to take over cities, but to protect them.”
Sohorkon’s father raised a hand. “All will be sorted out later. I am so tired. For now, my son, you will attend me . . . alone.” His weary eyes stared up at his Keeper. The Keeper meekly bowed his head.
Now Sohorkon would have a chance to talk with his father. To tell him everything he knew, and everything he suspected. It would be another problem, though, to get rid of these Pontu’ Gi unless he could work with the regular guard. He hoped he could get them back in the city quickly. They’d be needed. Yah’ Winn didn’t look like he’d leave peacefully.
“As you wish, Sire,” Yah’ Winn inclined his head in a semblance of a bow.
“Siri needs a doctor,” Sohorkon said to his father. “She was wounded in the attack.”
“I will see to her needs,” the Keeper inclined his head to Siri. “It will give us a chance to compare notes. And I must receive our guest as is proper, one Keeper to another.” He bowed again, this time to Sohorkon. He couldn’t tell if it was mocking or not.
Siri grasped his hand. It was plain she didn’t want to leave, but she knew he needed to be alone with his father.
“I’m sure it will be alright.” Sohorkon tried to reassure. If she stayed, the other Keeper would feel it his duty and prerogative to stay as well. He had to be alone.
Slowly, Siri nodded, and the group retired from the room. Sohorkon went to his knee again and took up his father’s hand.
“Help me to my bed, son. We can talk while I’m lying down.”
Sohorkon stood and helped his father up. It broke his heart.
I must do something to stop this!
Sohorkon settled his father into bed then knelt close, still gripping his hand.
“Father, how did you come to let these strangers into the city?”
The king’s brow furrowed. “I . . . I can’t recall. The Keeper . . . He said it was prophesied. I remember arguing, then . . . I just don’t remember. Everything has been so foggy lately. I don’t feel well. So tired.”
“We must get them to leave. They aren’t what they claim, father.”
“Yes . . . I’m glad you’re here, son. But your brother. You must find him.”
“I will,” Sohorkon grasped his father’s hand tighter. The guilt still rode him. He should never have abandoned Sauros.
“First, we must rid our city of these . . . So called Pontu’ Gi!”
Sohorkon heard a soft shuffling noise. He craned around and saw four Pontu’ Gi standing over him. How? Sohorkon hadn’t heard anyone come in. They must have already been here, but where? He glanced around the room to see where they could have hidden. They were all naked and carried long blades.
Sohorkon heard the outer door open and steps approaching. Yah’ Winn came striding into the room flanked by the Keeper. The Keeper looked anxious, worried.
Anger welled up. “Are you with him?” Sohorkon snapped. The Keeper shuddered as if struck.
“How can you be a traitor?” Sohorkon made to stand, but one of the Pontu’ Gi pressed a knife to his neck.
“Calm yourself, prince,” Yah’ Winn said. “I don’t want you to be harmed until I figure out whether I need to use you or not.”
“Like you’re using my father?”
“Just so.”
Sohorkon turned his eyes again to the Keeper. “Why?”
“He is Mulda’ fi,” he answered. “He showed me his power. And he’s in the Book. I could show you.”
“Can’t you see he’s lying?” Sohorkon spat. “Even I know that the Mulda’ fi is supposed to deliver us from a Time of Trouble, not cause it! A real Mulda’ fi wouldn’t depose a king and take over his city.”
“But . . . He is the one . . .” The Keeper glanced at Yah’ Winn, a question in his eyes.
“Don’t be spineless, Keeper!” Yah’ Winn said. “You’ve proof enough. This whelp here doesn’t know even a half of what he thinks he knows.”
The Keeper nodded, but it was plain he didn’t know whether he believe Yah’ Winn or not.
“Your trouble young man,” Yah’ Winn said glaring at Sohorkon as a dark glow started to pulse beneath Yah’ Winn’s breast, causing Sohorkon to suck in his breath, “is that I really am Mulda’ fi. Just not in the way you or anyone else thought. I know the prophecies in a way you’ll never understand. The Time of Trouble is indeed here. A trouble such as you can’t even begin to imagine! The only way to keep your pathetic world safe is to do exactly as I say!”
The pulsing at Jah’ Winn’s breast grew to an angry blood red. The Keeper backed away. Even the Pontu’ Gi flinched. Sohorkon’s eyes grew wide as the Pontu’ Gi faded from view, disappeared into the background, but he knew they were still there. He felt the knife . . . could still faintly make out their outlines. That’s why he hadn’t seen them in the room!
“Take him to a cell. When his traveling companion is patched up see she joins him. We can’t have them out and about for anyone to see.”
“But they were surely seen coming into the city,” The Keeper blurbed, bobbing a nervous bow, trying to appease the angry Mulda’ fi. “Won’t that cause concern if no mention is made of him?”
“We’ll deal with that later. For now, just do as I say. It won’t take much. The people will be distracted by their king dying of a mysterious illness.”
Sohorkon tensed, and the blade pressed tighter against his neck. Yah’ Winn smiled and the pulsing at his breast began to calm.
“Then there’ll be the sudden disappearance of his two sons.” The smile grew wider and he turned to the Keeper. “The people will have no choice but name the trusted and faithful Keeper to be Conservator. It’ll be just as we planned.”
“It would have been much simpler if your father had agreed to see reason,” the Keeper said to Sohorkon. His tone seemed almost sincere. “He wouldn’t believe the Mulda’ fi, even when he demonstrated his power.” The Keeper tried to affect sadness, but Sohorkon could see the ambition behind the facade.
“That’s because my father has a conscience,” Sohorkon said. “He recognized evil when confronted with it . . . instead of embracing it!”
“Enough of this,” Yah’ Winn said. “Make my words action.”
“As you will, Mulda’ fi.” The Keeper bowed low. “Come, bring him.”
Another of the Pontu’ Gi placed a knife on the other side of Sohorkon’s neck and allowed him to stand.
“Don’t give up, father!”
The knives pressed his skin.
“Son? Was that you?”
Sohorkon’s heart sank as they took him away.
Chapter 12
Mahntra’ Bhu ducked around a corner of the building then stopped, glancing back to make sure he hadn’t been followed. It was dark out and only the glow of the street lamps provided light. He’d kept to the shadows and alleys as much as possible. Whenever he saw anyone walking about, he’d gone way around to avoid them. He’d been correct in assuming that his followers relaxed their vigil some at night incorrectly thinking he wouldn’t venture out, but they’d been wrong.
It was an easy matter to slide out of his home under cover of darkness and pass through a side entrance of his grounds he hardly ever used. Making his way through the city without arousing suspicion of the other posted guards, was a different matter. He was not practiced at skulking through the city at night, but so far, he had gotten to where he needed to be . . . Near the palace.
Having been the Chief Keeper for so many years, he was familiar with all the entrances to the palace, even the ones no one else knew of. It was to one of those he made his way. He moved as fast as he could. Your age is showing, old man, he thought to himself. At last he came to a section in the palace wall that looked innocent enough, but Mahntra knew the key. Quickly he ran his fingers along the surface as high as he could reach, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching.
There! He found the small indentation and pressed hard. A section of the wall pivo
ted open hanging on delicately balanced hinges that made the heavy section swing easily. Mahntra ducked through the wall into a heavily planted section of the inside gardens surrounding the palace and swung the wall back into place. It secured itself with an almost inaudible “click” and was smooth once more to all but the most critical inspection.
Now that he was inside the grounds, he needed to make his way to the next entrance, this one leading down.
Glancing through the shadows of the lush growth of the gardens, he watched for guards marching along their routes. There were more than usual, and these men were loyal to Tranthra’ Joh, not the Princess. If he were caught, it wouldn’t go well.
Seeing the break in the pattern, he moved as quickly as he could and still keep silent across the broad path to the shadows of the greenery against the palace itself. Then he slunk alongside until he came to the sheltered spot he was looking for.
Again, he brushed his hands across the surface of the palace wall, finding the small indentation. Pressing hard, he heard the welcome “click” of the latch being opened, and the passageway opened.
He stepped into the dark hallway, feeling his way to pull the door shut again. He wanted to feel around and find the glow sphere he was sure was held in brackets somewhere just above his head, but he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. Instead, he’d memorized the layout of the paths he wanted to take through the passages below the palace and knew he could find his way mostly through feel alone. That didn’t help the suffocating feel of the darkness as it closed around him. He fought back the feeling and moved down the hall, keeping his right hand in contact with the wall of the passage so he’d know as soon as he came to the first intersection.
There. His hand lost touch of the wall. Here was the first turn he needed to take. Carefully he eased back until he found the wall again then moved directly to his side to find the other wall on the left. The left branch is what he needed to take. Finding the wall, he moved forward again, slowly, until he came to the corner, and turned. This time he moved forward with his left hand along the wall. The next turn wouldn’t be for a while, and he could feel from the pressure in his legs he was heading down, deeper below the palace. On track so far . . .
