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48
An Audience with the King
Time was almost up when Bem appeared in the doorway between the heels of the statue with Fidum trailing behind him. Bem came around behind the box and I let him in. Vulp checked him over and declared him clear of compulsion.
Bem shared what he'd learned. "It's just as he says. He's alone with the king. There's no one else here and nowhere to hide. Neither of them is any threat to us. He wants us to kill them."
"But the magic." Neb objected, wary and confused.
"It's the opposite of what we thought." Bem went on, his right hand drifted into his pocket and the left kneaded his right shoulder. "They're not the enemy. They're the victims. It will make sense when he shows you. We all need to go up and let him show us."
I breathed a sigh of relief that the battle we'd anticipated seemed to be off the table. My elation at not having to fight was dampened by the reality of one hell of a long goddamned climb ahead of me and only me. "I guess I'll send you guys up and I'll see you in a few hours." I said with a verbal shrug. "At least it's steps and not free climbing."
"I am going to make your day." Bem poked my chest with each of his words. "Fidum has a counter-weighted gantry rigged on the far-right side of the statue. I checked it. It will hold you. Send us up, we'll lower a rope, and you can ride up."
I grabbed Bem in an impulsive hug, picked him up, and spun him around. "I owe you. Anything you want."
I put him down and released the magic keeping us walled in. Bem poked my chest some more, "you better remember you said that, because I will collect."
Bem told us we could hold onto our weapons or leave them as we saw fit. I dropped my rifle and the heavy vest but left the revolver on my hip. I left the revolver there more because I forgot about it than because I thought I needed it. Vulp kept his sub-machine gun but adjusted it, so it was slung across his back instead of being held in his arms. Everyone else left their weapons and protective gear in a pile.
We followed Fidum around the statue to where an outcropping was visible at the summit. That's where the gantry was rigged. I asked Neb to loop the bottom of the rope before they sent it down. The loop that she'd tied for me after I fell through the quarry floor had held firm, and I didn't see any reason to bet my life on my sketchy knot tying skills.
I sent the team up, including Shawn, and waited. The rope came down a few minutes later and carried me up. On the way to the summit, a large, crudely woven basket loaded with boulders passed me, descending as I ascended. I assumed that was the counter-weight Bem mentioned. I crested the summit to see Cy and Vulp working a stone flywheel gadget built on a wooden gantry. This appeared to be the device that controlled the rate of travel for the manual elevator I was riding.
The whole works was built on a pivot, so I didn't have to clamber over the mountain edge. Cy locked the flywheel, and the brothers turned the whole assembly until I could put my feet on the ground. Once gathered into a group again, we followed Fidum down a spiral staircase that was carved into the flat surface of the mountaintop and entered a domed room that was hollowed-out from the head of the statue.
Light streamed in through two windows. I wondered why there were only two, then I realized that on the outside, the windows were the pupils of the statue's eyes. The room was a large space, maybe thirty feet in diameter with a flat floor. Every inch of the walls was painted with scenes of triumph for a man that was the exact image of the statue we stood in. I guessed that was the king. The images were individual vignettes, like the stations of the cross in a Catholic church. Pravus in his royal blue Nehru suit, with braded gold piping and domed cap, being worshiped by crowds of enthusiastic followers, speaking to an assembly of statesman, holding court, signing treaties. Whoever the artist was, he loved his king and had very real talent.
To the right of the steps, and taking up fully half of the space, a long table was laid with a sumptuous feast. Eight men were around it, and each was extremely pleased. Seven of them stood from their chairs and held goblets in the air, the eighth, King Pravus, stood at the head of the table, his own cup raised in celebration. The entire scene had been intricately carved from the living rock of the mountain.
Opposite the stone banquet, to the left of the staircase, was the living area and combined bedroom. An ornate, oak canopy bed with maroon curtains dominated the space. Facing this was a cluster of bedroom furniture including an oak wardrobe, a daybed with thick maroon upholstery, a dressing table, and a bureau with a large, oak-framed mirror. Gathered to the left eye window, was a living room set that consisted of a long, angular, forest-green sofa with gold trim, a matching easy chair, and an oak table between them. There were no obvious provisions for a kitchen, a place for a fire, or sanitary facilities.
Over the back of the easy chair, a head was visible. On the head was a blue cap, domed like a bowler without its brim. The head lolled back into the soft cushion. `His majesty must be asleep,' I thought.
Fidum led us toward the bedroom area and gestured vaguely around. "You may sit on the bed or anywhere you like. Please keep your voices low. I don't want to disturb his majesty until we have to. He will be so happy you have come. We have waited so long for this day."
I propped myself on the edge of the bureau and folded my arms over my chest, Shawn stood next to me, Cy and Vulp sat on the daybed with Bem between them, and Neb stood in the center of the gathered group. She remained in control of the situation and did all the talking. "Mister Cacula, would you please explain?" She asked.
"My apologies, Miss..." Fidum fell silent as he waited for Neb to introduce herself.
We'd skipped formal introductions down on the ground, so we corrected the error. We agreed on first names for simplicity. Fidum opened the bed curtains and sat down to explain his situation for all of us. "When we were exiled, the mages created the barrier and linked it to his majesty's life force. It was supposed to expire when he did. Unfortunately, it worked in the opposite way. The magic being drawn from nature to keep the barrier in place, has kept his majesty alive all these long years. The barrier also keeps anything under it from aging."
Fidum leaned forward to set his hands on his knees. "Not just people...nothing ages. I've worn this suit for...I honestly don't know...how long has it been?"
Neb replied for us. "In round figures, one-thousand-five-hundred years. The records from that time are incomplete, making an exact number difficult to arrive at."
"Just as Libellus said." Fidum muttered and trailed off. He looked up from the brief distraction and got back to his original train of thought. "If I rip my jacket, the magic repairs it. If I stub my toe, it does the same thing." He paused to scan the room with his eyes. I guessed he was trying to see if we believed what he'd said. I didn't see how we could doubt it. We were inside a magic barrier talking to a man who was a few centuries shy of two-thousand-years-old. Whatever he said was fine with me.
Fidum seemed to need to prove himself to us. He rose from the bed, crossed to the dresser where I stood, opened a drawer, and took out a small knife. He used it to cut a slice in the end of his sleeve. He put the knife away and went back to sit on the bed. As he sat, a strand of yellow light, the thickness of a heavy thread, came into the room from the eye window and made a beeline to Fidum's sleeve. The slice he'd cut glowed with power and was gone. The yellow strand withdrew from the room, presumably back to the barrier from whence it came.
Fidum held his sleeve up for us to see. "I could sever my head from my body and the same thing would happen. I can't age and I can't die. Neither can my king." Fidum seemed to think that his point was made, then he said something that I thought was unrelated but turned out not to be. "I presume you're here, after all this time, because the world's magic supply is low. Am I right?"
"Yes." Neb answered.
"I thought that would happen eventually. It makes sense. I should be dust. It must be taking a huge amount of energy to keep me alive. I don't need to eat, drink, sleep, go to the bathroom, nothing. I live on magic. All of us did. In some ways, that was a good thing. We were left here with nothing, just some rations and the makings of the furniture around us. They...the people who put us here, did not expect our exile to last longer than the time it took us to starve to death."
"I am certain," Fidum went on with a note of bitterness entering his voice, "that as time went on and on, the perpetrators of this unforgivable crime were shocked by the knowledge that we were still here, and here we stayed, trapped beyond time. One by one the others grew tired of this relentless existence. They ended it the only way they could, by walking into the barrier that contained us. I survived for him." Fidum cast a longing glance at the easy chair.
"I took up stone carving and art. We are inside my hobby. It was the only way I could stay sane. His majesty helped me for a while, for centuries really, though it seems barely a few weeks when I look back on that time, but that was before...AHEM." The man winced and shook his head. "I was starting work this morning when we met. I was going to polish his majesty's toenails. He is proud of his feet and likes them to look their best."
"You carved all of this...alone?" Neb asked, the incredulity obvious in her tone.
Fidum's gaze hardened, it glared at Neb. "What would you do with eternity, miss?" He demanded with an edge in his rich voice.
Neb put her hands up, palms toward Fidum. "I apologize if I was rude. It was not my intention. The scale of what you accomplished is impressive. You have amazing talent."
The hardness left Fidum's face, a stricken look too its place. "No, please. I haven't spoken to anyone in so long. I talk at his majesty, but he cannot respond. My God, I miss him."
"I don't understand," Neb unbuttoned her cuffs and rolled her sleeves up, "he's right there, isn't he?"
Fidum wagged a sad head at the stone floor. "The barrier keeps everything physically intact, but it couldn't protect his majesty's mind. He went mad, several centuries ago. It had been just he and I, for many wonderful years, but slowly, this endless life took its toll and broke his mind. I figured out how to get him back. Twice he sank into madness and twice I brought him back. After the second time, he said he could stand it no more."
Fidum's voice caught and faded to silence. He heaved a breath and continued his story. "You see, it was because of me. His majesty knew I was tired of living; it was his pain at seeing me in pain that drove him mad. He made me promise to leave him alone when he eventually succumbed to the madness again. He made me promise that I would wait until he could no longer reason before I took my own life. As you see, it is the only wish I ever denied him."
Fidum stood from the bed. He appeared to be choking back tears. "Come," he beckoned, "I'll introduce you. No need to bow. We're very informal here."
He led us around the far side of the sofa to where King Pravus sat. The man looked exactly like the paintings and the statue. A massive man, he filled the easy chair to the point of being wedged between the arms. He sat perfectly still, his mahogany eyes open and staring, mouth closed, arms arranged carefully on the wide, square arms of the chair.
"What's wrong with him?" Shawn asked after a moment's reflection. "That's not madness."
Fidum leaned down and brushed the king's long hair aside from where it hid his left temple. A nub of shiny black protruded from the skin. "It's a spike I carved for him. I...I did this. I waited for him to be asleep and drove it into his skull...through the reason centers of his brain. I couldn't leave him mad, and I couldn't leave him alone. This was the only peace I could give him. The spike makes him unable to think, unable to feel. In spite of that, I try to include him in everything I do. I talk to him, I stroke his hair, I tell him how much I love him. Sometimes I think he understands."
"That's why you couldn't walk into the barrier," Neb whispered her understanding of the situation, "you're in love with him."
"I hope you don't find us too repulsive." Fidum whispered miserably as he arranged the king's hair to cover the end of the spike. "That was the one good thing about being here. When everyone else left, we got to love each other like we always wanted to. He's such a wonderful man. He made me so very happy."
Fidum looked up from the king and waved a hand at the long sofa. "I'm sorry, please sit so we can talk. Do you mind sitting here? I don't like to talk about his majesty and not include him, and it's been so long since we had company. I'm sure he's thrilled to have you."
The sofa was long enough for almost everyone to sit. I stood behind it and Fidum stood in front. Neb remained our spokesman. "Why did you worry about us finding you repulsive?" She asked. Fidum's hands clenched and unclenched nervously at his sides. "We're both men. The church says it's unnatural, a sin to be repented."
"I don't understand. The church..."
I interrupted Neb. "I understand. Pay attention, Shawn, this is the shit I was talking about at that lecture." I addressed our host. "Fidum, I take it your religion and culture said that same sex relationships were wrong. You and the king wanted each other but could never admit it openly for fear of scandal and disgrace. Right?"
"Yes." Fidum admitted with his eyes downcast in shame.
"It's not that way on Solum anymore. The religion was abolished somewhere along the way and the culture let its hair down about sex. No one would blink an eye about you two today."
Fidum raised his eyes to me. His face was hopeful, but also wary with disbelief. He seemed to have a problem with what I'd said. "How is it you know what it was like for us if that is not how it is today?"
"I'm not from Solum." I explained. "I'm from another world called Earth where the culture is less...enlightened, I guess. They brought me here, Shawn did, to...uhm...well...to kill you."
Fidum's face lit up. "You're the powerful and compassionate man?"