Part 15 (1/2)
”Tell the authorities?” repeated the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar, not the least disconcerted by the crowd or the antics of the young man in the pantaloons. ”Yes, I'll notify the proper people, you may be certain of that.”
Making a gesture to the two black-robed figures who stood watching from the shadows, the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder. laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder.
”Simkin, in the name of the Emperor, I place you under arrest.”
2.
Welcome Home, Simkin Calling for the warlocks, the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar held Simkin firmly. The black-robed held Simkin firmly. The black-robed Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith floated toward the young man, the crowd parting at their coming like leaves driven by a storm wind. Amid the rustling murmurs of the people, the gasps of shock that were equal parts horror and delight, Gwen's gaze was drawn from Simkin - who was staring at the floated toward the young man, the crowd parting at their coming like leaves driven by a storm wind. Amid the rustling murmurs of the people, the gasps of shock that were equal parts horror and delight, Gwen's gaze was drawn from Simkin - who was staring at the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar in absolute astoundment - to his friends. in absolute astoundment - to his friends.
Standing behind Simkin, the catalyst had gone from red to a deathly pallor, his hand reaching out and resting on the shoulder of the dark young man in a manner that was both protective and restraining. The other young man, the blond one, laid his hand on his friend's arm as well, and then it was that Gwen noticed the dark young man reached behind his back, beneath his cloak.
Weapons of any type are not used in Merilon, since they are considered to be the evil machinations of those who practice the Dark Art, the Ninth Mystery - Technology. The young girl watching had never seen a sword, but she knew of them through the nursery stories her governess told her of the ancient days. Gwen knew instinctively that this young man carried one, that he and his friends were undoubtedly bandits, and that he intended to fight.
”No!” she breathed, pressing one hand against her mouth, the other crus.h.i.+ng the forgotten flowers.
The dark young man had turned to face the approaching Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith, his back was to Gwen. The warm spring wind blew his cloak aside, and she saw his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword, slowly drawing it from a sheath that surrounded the object like the skin of a snake. The weapon was dark and hideous, and Gwen wanted to shut her eyes in horror. But her eyelids were dry and burning. She couldn't close them, she could only stare at the weapon and the young man in a dread fascination, a smothering sensation in her chest.
The Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith, now clear of the crowd, stretched out their hands toward Simkin, spell chants on their lips. They did not seem to be paying any attention to the dark young man, who was moving slowly up behind his friend.
”'Pon my honor!” cried Simkin. ”Must be some mistake. Call me when you've cleared it up, there's a good fellow.”
The air s.h.i.+mmered and the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar was left standing in front of Earth Gate, his hand resting firmly on nothing. was left standing in front of Earth Gate, his hand resting firmly on nothing.
Simkin was gone.
”Find him!” the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar ordered unnecessarily, for the ordered unnecessarily, for the Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith were already responding. ”I'll watch his friends.” were already responding. ”I'll watch his friends.”
Gwen's eyes - opened wide at this astonis.h.i.+ng development - went instantly to the dark young man. Simkin's disappearance had apparently startled him as well. He hesitated drawing the sword, and Gwen saw the catalyst remonstrating with him, speaking earnestly, his hand once more on the young man's shoulder. Just as the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar came near, the young man slid the sword back into its scabbard, hastily covering it with his cloak. came near, the young man slid the sword back into its scabbard, hastily covering it with his cloak.
Gwen drew a s.h.i.+vering breath in relief, then realized, too late, that she was betraying far more interest in this young man than was maidenly proper. Hoping her cousins hadn't noticed the burning flush in her cheeks, she buried her face in the bouquet.
”I say, loosen up,” yelped a voice. ”You're pinching me most awfully.”
Gwen gasped, dropping the flowers in her amazement. The voice had come from the heart of her bouquet!
”Almin's blood, child!” one of the flowers said irritably. ”I didn't mean for you to loosen up quite that much! I've crumpled a petal.”
The blossoms lay scattered in the street. Slowly, cautiously, Gwendolyn drifted down out of the air to kneel beside the bouquet, staring at it incredulously. One flower stood out amid the dainty selection of violets and roses. This was a bright purple tulip, adorned by a red streak around its middle and a dash of orange on the top.
”Well, are you just going to leave me lying in the filth?” the tulip asked in aggrieved tones.
Gulping, Gwen glanced up to see if her cousins were looking at her, but they appeared to be totally absorbed in watching the Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith. The warlocks had not moved from the spot. Hands clasped before them, their black hoods pulled low over their faces, they appeared to be doing nothing. But Gwendolyn knew that they were mentally going over everyone in the crowd, throwing out the long, unseen filaments of their magical web, seeking their prey.
Her eyes on the warlocks, Gwen reached out and gently picked up the purple tulip.
”Simkin?” she asked hesitantly. ”What -”
”Shus.h.!.+ Shus.h.!.+” hissed the tulip. ”There's been a most frightful mistake. I'm positive of it. Why should they arrest me? Well, there was that one incident with the Countess's jewelry ... But surely no one remembers that! Stuff was all fake anyway. Well, most of it.... If I can just get to the Emperor, you see, I'm certain he'll set everything right! Then, there's my friends.” The tulip took on an air of importance. ”Can you keep a secret, child?”
”Well, I -” Gwen regarded the tulip in bewilderment.
”Shus.h.!.+ The dark young man. n.o.ble family. Father died. Left the boy a fortune. Wicked uncle. Boy kidnapped. Held prisoner by giants. I rescued him. Now he returns, expose uncle, claim inheritance.”
”Really?” Gwen raised her eyes to look at the dark young man over the tulips petals. ”I just knew it,” she said.
”That's it!” the tulip cried. ”Why didn't it occur to me? Wicked uncle behind this! Heard we were coming back. Should have known. Had me arrested to get me out of the way. Too bad,” the tulip said gloomily. ”He won't stop with kidnapping now. It'll be murder this time.”
”Oh, dear, no!” Gwen whispered in alarm. ”There must be something you can do!”
”I'm afraid not, unless you would - But no, I couldn't ask it.” The tulip gave a gusty sigh. ”I'm destined for life in a bud vase. As for my friend? Bottom of the river ...”
”Oh, no! I'll help, if you really think I can,” Gwen faltered.
”Very well,” the tulip responded with seeming reluctance. ”Although I hate to involve you. But, you see, sweet child, I was thinking that if you were to drift over there quite casually and appear not to notice that anything was amiss and quite casually grab hold of the dear old catalyst, you could say, quite casually, 'Father Dungstable! I'm terribly sorry I'm late. Papa and Mama are expecting you at home this moment!' Then you, quite casually, lead him off.”
”Lead him where?” Gwen asked in confusion.
”Why, home, of course,” the tulip said matter-of-factly. ”I presume you have room enough for us all. I do prefer private quarters, but if I have to, I'll share, though not with the catalyst. You can't imagine how he snores!”
”You mean - Take you all ... to my home!”
”Of course! And you must do it quickly. Before that wretched catalyst says somethig to ruin us all! Poor man is none too bright, if you know what I mean.”
”But I can't! Not without asking Mama and Papa. What would they say -”
”If you brought Simkin to your house? Simkin, the darling of the court? My dear,” the tulip continued in bored tones, ”I could stay at the homes of twenty Princes, just like that! To say nothing of the Dukes and Earls and Counts who have literally gone down on their knees to beg me to be their houseguest. The Earl of Essac was devastated when I said no. Threatened to off himself. But really, twenty Pekingese? They yap, you know, to say nothing of nipping at the ankles.” The tulip flicked a leaf. ”And of course I can introduce you into court, once this little matter is set right.”
”Court!” Gwen repeated softly. Visions of the Crystal Palace came to her mind. She saw herself being presented to His Royal Highness, curtsying, her hand on the strong arm of the dark young man.
”I'll do it!” she said in sudden conviction.
”Sweet child!” responded the tulip in heartfelt tones. ”Now, carry me with you. Don't mind the Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith They'll never penetrate this disguise. I say, though, it would certainly add to the overall effect if you would just tuck me into your bosom -” They'll never penetrate this disguise. I say, though, it would certainly add to the overall effect if you would just tuck me into your bosom -”
”My ... where? Oh ... no!” Gwen murmured, blus.h.i.+ng. ”I don't think so ...” Placing the tulip among the other blossoms, she hastily gathered up the remainder of the bouquet from the ground.
”Ah, well,” the tulip reflected philosophically, ”you can't win them all, as the Baron Baumgarten said when his wife ran off with the croquet master ... and the Baron so fond of the game.”
”I am going to ask you again, what are your names and what are your doing in Merilon?” The Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar glared at them suspiciously. glared at them suspiciously.
”And I am going to tell you again, sir,” said Joram, his voice taut with the visible effort it was taking him to control his temper, ”he is Father Dunstable, he is Mosiah, and I am Joram. We are illusionists - traveling actors - who met Simkin by chance. We agreed to form a troupe and we are here at the invitation of one of Simkin's patrons ...”
Saryon bowed his head, ceasing in his despair to listen. This was a story Prince Garald had suggested and it had sounded plausible at the time. Those born to the Mystery of Shadow, known as illusionists, are - by and large - a cla.s.sless society. They are the artists of Thimhallan, traveling extensively throughout the world to entertain the populace with their skills and talents. Illusionists entered Merilon constantly, their skills being in great demand among the n.o.bility.
But this was the third time Joram had told the Kan-Hanar Kan-Hanar his story and it was obvious to Saryon, at least, that the man wasn't having any part of it. his story and it was obvious to Saryon, at least, that the man wasn't having any part of it.
It's all over, Saryon said to himself bleakly.