Zenak Page 6

  It took him longer to reach Mara’s room this time be­cause he took a longer, less-used route to reach her room. He didn’t want anyone to see him packed and fleeing.

  He rushed hurriedly into Mara’s room and asked breath­lessly, “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she said. She then picked up the crying prince who had been abruptly awakened and cuddled him in her arms.

  “Shut him up,” ordered Vokar.

  Mara tried rocking the baby lightly to abate its cries but no amount of rocking would quiet the child. The child was crying so loud and with such desperate fear that the guards stationed in a small room down the hallway from Mara’s quarters were alerted and they rushed to help their queen. The clanging of the guard’s swords warned Vokar that their flight might be stopped if he didn’t hurry.

  “Let’s go,” Vokar said and he pulled Mara out of her room. But Vokar was too late. The guards had already arrived when he dragged Mara out of the room. The guards stopped for a moment and stared at Vokar dragging Mara. But they were mistaken at what they saw. The scene that they saw was the scene of an abduction. The sacrilegious abduction of a queen and her babe. The guards mistakenly inferred this because as Mara was leaving her bedchamber she accidently shut the heavy bedchamber door on her cape. Vokar being rushed because the guards had arrived was pulling on Mara while he was simultane­ously threatening to kill the child if Mara did not make it stop screaming. The almost comical scene, comical if it did not entail such serious consequences, was Vokar pulling the helpless queen behind him and threatening to kill the prince. Upon seeing such an act the guards, loyal to their queen to the death, instantly drew their broadswords and attacked Vokar. Vokar, however, was quick to act and almost immediately he turned his evil stare on the guards. No sooner had their eyes met the evil priest’s eyes than they came to a halt.

  “Melt,” ordered Vokar. Mara looked at Vokar rather puzzled then looked at the guards to see what a strange order like Vokar’s would do.

  Mara found herself surprised. The word was no sooner released from Vokar’s thin lips than a highly viscous black liquid began to ooze from the loyal guards’ feet. Vokar smiled when he first saw it and then broke out into uproarious laughter.

  “Come, let’s hurry,” he told Mara while he still laughed at his murderous ways.

  “Let’s watch,” said Mara. Her eyes were ablaze with her lust for the macabre.

  “No, we must fly,” Vokar said. Then he grabbed Mara by her soft delicate arm and pulled her away leaving the men to become puddles of flesh, bone, and blood.

  In their haste neither Vokar nor Mara looked carefully at the melting men. Had they looked with the careful attention, that should follow any deed of any consequence, they would have noticed that one of the rushing guards had not fallen into Vokar’s spell and thus was not melting onto the stone floor.

  This very alive man was named Famad. He was a young warrior destined for an inconsequential life. He tended to lean toward the pusillanimous side of living and because of his timidity and meekness, he was saved from the tragedy that befell his brave comrades. His saving came about because when his friends were attacking Vokar, he lagged behind by feigning a sprained ankle. Because of this, he had not been caught by Vokar’s engulfing eyes, and therefore was not frozen by Vokar. He did not, how­ever, remain animated when Vokar ordered the halt of the other warriors, for he knew to do so would be either foolish or heroic and he could not perceive the difference in the obvious dichotomy. He did have a moment of horror when he saw his comrades begin to flow into each other and onto the floor. It was not that he pitied them, but that his ruse might be discovered at any time. To his relief Vokar and Mara hastily left, leaving the seed of their destruction behind—Famad.

  Famad, when Vokar and Mara were out of sight, left his comrades to melt and headed for the main guardhouse. His mind was filled with consternation. When was Zenak going to return? Should he ride out and tell Zenak? How was he going to tell Zenak the bad news? All these questions and more plagued Famad until he arrived at the main guardhouse and told his story to his captain.

  When Famad arrived at the door of the guardhouse, he stopped for a moment to get his thoughts together. How was he going to explain what had happened? He shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the room. His eyes immediately started water­ing from all the smoke from the cigar-smoking guards. He squinted in the poor light to find the captain. In one corner of the room two men were sitting and playing ginga [Apparently, from looking through the other scrolls, ginga is a game similar to chess except the pawns are allowed to move in any direction and the bishops, or babas, as they are called, are allowed to move only once in any dia­gonal direction.] In another corner were four men passing a bottle of wine around and watching a young woman they had bought for the evening writhing in her own ecstasy on the table. Finally, he caught sight of the captain in the back of the room near the rear door.

  “Captain, come quickly,” Famad yelled. He ran toward the captain and the captain squinted his eyes a little and ducked his head so he could see who was calling him.

  “Oh, it’s the idiot, Famad,” he said, sounding disgusted as he chewed on his cigar.

  “My Captain, the queen has been abducted and her guards melted,” Famad said as he reached the captain.

  “Abducted? Melted? Have you gone insane?” The captain said incredulously.

  “No, I’m not insane. The queen has been abducted by Vokar and through some sort of black magic he melted all of us, except me of course.”

  The captain chewed his cigar a little harder and stared with suspecting eyes at this man whom he thought was a total idiot. Then he shuffled his feet a little and turned away from Famad to better think.

  “I’m telling the truth and if you procrastinate any longer the queen will be getting farther away and you will be getting closer to Zenak’s sword,” Famad said in a fit of bravado.

  The captain once again looked at Famad, spit on the floor, grabbed up a bottle of wine, took a great swig from it, and said, “Take me to your melted friends.”

  Famad bolted ahead of the captain and took off for the entrance to the queen’s bedchamber. The captain lumbered behind him breathing heavily all the way.

  When they reached the hallway to the bedchamber all there was to be seen were puddles of black liquid littered with clothes and weapons. The captain surveyed the scene for a moment and, walking carefully around the puddles, went into the queen’s bedchamber. Famad followed him.

  “There doesn’t appear to have been a struggle, here. But it does appear that she’s left because her clothes are gone and the child is gone. Are you sure she didn’t go willing­ly?” the captain asked Famad.

  “I saw Vokar pulling on her and threatening to kill her baby. There is no way she went will­ingly. Besides what woman would go willingly with that crea­ture Vokar and leave Zenak? Especially someone as beautiful as Mara,” Famad said.

  “I guess you’re right. She is too fine a person to do that,” the captain replied. No one but Vokar and Mara’s private servants knew of her depravities and even her servants only knew of her sexual wants. Other than that they thought she was pure of heart. In fact her sexual needs were consi­dered normal by many people of the kingdom, so no questions were ever asked even when she would invite multiple men to her room for the night.

  “Where could they have gone?” Famad asked.

  “If Vokar has any chance of escaping, it will be by markback. Famad go to the stables and find out if any marks are missing, especially the queen’s. I’ll go back and sound the alarm to seal off the city. And if they have already escaped we’ll have to dispatch troops to find them,” the captain said.

  “Will I go to the hunt?” Famad asked, reverting to his cowardly ways.

  “No, you will stay behind and tell the King what happened,” the captain answered with a smirk.

  “How do I know that the King will not kill me when he hears the news?” a frightened Famad asked.

 
; “You don’t,” replied the captain. Then the captain rushed for the barracks to rouse everyone into ac­tion.

  Famad stayed in Mara’s room biting his nails and trying to figure out the best way to word the bad news to this man of explosive emotions. He knew he wouldn’t get away without at least a missing tooth.

  Chapter 8

  The trumpets were blaring, their majestic tones re­sounding off the city’s walls. And the banners were waving in a sea of black and gold, Deparne’s colors, when Zenak and his scarred, battered, but victorious army marched into Balbania. Zenak and Habor marched in the front of the victorious procession. Zenak stared to the front of him and his countenance was grim. Habor, on the other hand, was smiling. He didn’t have the burden of a traitorous priest on his mind as Zenak had. Habor’s happy scarred face told the people of Balbania that peace once again reigned. To show their happiness the people showered the army with the yellow flower petals of the blossoming hica plant. From every window the young women of Balbania, females as voluptuous as any man would hope for, bared their pert, smooth breasts beckoning every marksman to the ultimate hospitality a young woman could give a brave man coming from a fierce battle. Because of these awaiting beauties the parade did not last long, and by the time Zenak and Habor arrived at the gates of the palace, they were alone.

  Habor laughed at their parade of two and said, “Ah, to be young again, but instead of some wild wench, I shall go see my first woman and have my feet rubbed.”

  “Good, and give her my best,” Zenak said.

  “I don’t have anything that good,” Habor said to Zenak jokingly. “Oh yes, when you see Tenen, for you will see him before I do, tell him that I have a young girl who has never been touched waiting in the wagons outside the city walls.”

  “That reminds me, why didn’t Tenen meet us at the city’s gates?” Zenak asked.

  Habor became more serious and said, “I don’t know. I also thought he would for I know how much he loves women and ale. When I saw that he wasn’t there, I figured that he would meet us here at the palace gates. But he is not here either.”

  “I felt the same as you my friend. Something is amiss,” Zenak said.

  “I agree. Shall I let my foot rubdown wait and come with you into the palace to find out what happened?” Habor asked.

  “No, if anything is wrong you will be the first person I will contact. No sense delaying your homecoming if nothing is wrong,” Zenak said.

  “Fine, I will go home now, but don’t delay sending a message if something is wrong,” Habor said.

  Habor said good-bye to Zenak and rode off to his house. Zenak rode into the palace grounds and to the stables to have Gam bedded down. After that he went quickly to the throne room.

  The throne room was quiet when Zenak walked into it. It was a dread, foreboding quiet that bespoke of developments filled with grave consequences. Zenak called for a servant, but none answered. He shrugged his shoulders and walked toward Mara’s chambers. But before he had left the throne room, he heard someone feebly calling out to him.

  “My King,” said Famad quietly from the other end of the throne room. Famad was petrified. He didn’t want to tell the king the bad news, but the captain of the guards made him because he was the only one with first-hand knowledge of the situation. Famad knew this was going to happen when he saw his comrades being melted. He had hoped that the captain of the guard would not make him face the massive king if he told him of the events quick enough. But that didn’t happen, so there he stood facing the most terrifying man he had ever seen or known.

  Zenak, upon hearing this almost silent beckoning, turned around and ordered Famad to come closer and to speak up. Famad meekly came forward, his chin resting on his chest.

  “The captain of the guard said I should tell you since I saw it all,” Famad said, hoping to push his responsibili­ty off on the captain.

  “Tell me what?” Zenak bellowed. He was quite irritated by this meek guard.

  Famad stepped back a little and then spoke up, his voice shaking, “Vokar has kidnapped Mara and the prince.”

  “And you saw it and did nothing,” Zenak yelled. His hand gripped his broadsword and Famad could feel his head resting on the cold stone floor.

  “He melted my friends and comrades,” Famad cried out. “What could I do? I was helpless.”

  “Melted?” Zenak asked quietly to himself. His hand was red as it tightly grasped the hilt of the sword. “Go get Tenen,” Zenak ordered Famad.

  “I cannot,” Famad said.

  “You little bastard,” Zenak yelled as he slugged Famad in the face, knocking out his few front teeth and sending him to the floor.

  Famad stayed quietly on the floor. He was bleeding heavily from his mouth and when he looked up at Zenak tears fell from his eyes. They were not tears of pain, however, but tears of sadness, for every soldier at the palace loved Tenen. Zenak stood above him, his fists clenched as he stared at the bleeding man.

  Famad then said, “Tenen is dead.” This time Famad didn’t cringe even though he felt sure that he would get kicked by Zenak’s heavy, booted foot. Instead, Zenak offered his hand to Famad and helped him off the floor.

  “How did he die?” Zenak asked softly.

  “I didn’t see it, but it’s said that Tenen knifed him­self to death. His second woman found him sprawled on the floor lying in his blood and intestines. Also one of Mara’s silks was found by his side,” Famad said, his face spattered with his own blood.

  “Tenen would never have knifed himself. It must have been the work of Vokar. And my Mara was probably forced to see it—that would account for her silk,” Zenak said. Zenak could read an enemy’s mind, a sword-fighting enemy, that is, and he ruled his kingdom wiser than any king before him had, but he was blind to Mara. When it came to her, he was as innocent as a three-year-old child.

  “That’s true,” Famad said a little more confidently. “Vokar was implicated, but never to his face.”

  “Cowards,” Zenak said. “When Vokar took Mara did you keep it to yourself or did anyone go after them?”

  “Oh, I went straight to the captain of the guards and he sent four platoons out, each in a different direction,” Famad said. He was relaxed now and he felt important because his great king was relying on him for answers.

  “Did any of the platoons go to the east, toward Soci?” Zenak asked.

  “Yes,” Famad said.

  “Yes!” exclaimed Zenak. “Why didn’t I see them as I came from the east? I’m sure there was no missing us.”

  “My King, I heard that the captain told the major of the platoon that was heading for the east to contact you. When I saw your army come into the city with such joy, I figured either you found Queen Mara or that the platoon never contacted you. Since I saw no sign of the queen, and since I know too well the evil ways of Vokar, I assumed the latter to be true.”

  “Get Habor and then tell my grooms to prepare Gam. I will ride to the east as soon as possible,” Zenak said.

  “Why the east?” questioned Famad.

  Zenak glared at him for not jumping immediately to his order but then answered, “The platoon never contacted me, so apparently Vokar annihilated them before such a contact could be made. Also, Soci lies in that direction. Now get moving. I haven’t time to dawdle with you.”

  “My King!” Famad said as he abruptly slapped his thigh and then went to do the bidding of his king.

  Zenak strode out of the throne room and into his chambers. On his way he found a slave girl and ordered her to bring a bottle of wine to his chambers.

  His room was cold and the dampness from the stone walls penetrated Zenak’s body to the point of being chilled. He wrapped himself in his furs and began to sharpen the blade of his great broadsword. He was an imposing looking figure; his stone-cold, black eyes stared hard upon his blade as he honed it to such a sharpness that even a touch of a finger upon the edge of it would produce blood. The dark furs wrapped around him made him look like the terrifying mag
a, a bear of the far north. So terrifying were his looks that the slave girl barely handed the bottle to him before she fled from the unfriendly room.

  Zenak had almost finished downing his wine when Habor came in. Habor’s eyes were red from crying and he had a grim and vengeful look upon his face that made even the saddened Zenak take note. “You have found out,” Zenak said.

  “I found out about Mara and Tenen from my first woman and was on my way here when I ran into the messenger that you sent to get me. He told me that you are having Gam prepared,” Habor said.

  “I leave when I finish this wine,” Zenak said. “Blast that Vokar! He has been a thorn in my side for a year. I should have split his skull when I had the chance.”

  “How many marksmen will march with us?” Habor asked.

  “I go alone,” Zenak said.

  “I guess it will be better for just the two of us to go,” Habor said.

  “No, my friend, I go completely alone,” Zenak said.

  “Tenen was just as much a friend of mine as he was of yours.” Habor yelled, “And I loved Mara as a sister.”

  “I know, I know, but you will have to stay behind and take care of the kingdom,” Zenak said.

  “I really don’t give a blast about the kingdom,” Habor said. “I want revenge.”

  “Habor!” Zenak yelled back, “Don’t you understand? This is sorcery we are dealing with. Tenen did not commit suicide. Vokar killed him and Mara did not go willingly. Vokar made her. We are dealing with a powerful man. If we both go after him and he kills us both, Deparne will be at his mercy and so will my wife and child. But if just one of us goes after him, we may save the kingdom and my family.”

  “Why?” Habor asked persistently.

  “Because it is easier for one man to dog another man and not be discovered. And if I am discovered and killed, my kingdom and family may still have a chance because you will be here to fight off Vokar if he attacks Balbania,” Zenak answered.