The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain) (4 page)

“We’ll explain it to you later,” Jack said. “Say us a prayer, Ellayne.”

She and Jack closed their eyes, as Obst the hermit had taught them, and Ellayne spoke softly, knowing God would hear her even if she didn’t speak aloud at all: “God, please keep us safe on this trip to Obann, and let us get there in time to help King Ryons. You made him king, but wicked men are out to get him.” And she and Jack both whispered, “So be it.”

“That was a prayer?” Fnaa asked. “But you were just talking.”

“That’s all you have to do,” Jack said. “A holy man taught us. All you have to do is talk to God, and He hears you.”

“Sounds funny to me,” Fnaa said. “Can we get started now?”

Following Wytt, who made less noise than a rat, the three children crept out of the town of Ninneburky in the middle of the night. Jack felt a little better for the prayer, but still misliked sneaking off like a housebreaker.

For the first time, but not the last, he wondered if Fnaa was really who he said he was, wondered if Fnaa’s outlandish story was really true, and wondered how soon it would be, and how unpleasant, for them to find out otherwise.

“Lord God,” he prayed silently, as they passed out of the town and saw the Imperial River in the near distance with starlight shimmering on glossy water, “if this is a trick or a trap, please watch out for us!”

Chapter 4

How Martis Sought for Tidings

Martis went up Bell Mountain to assassinate Jack and Ellayne and almost perished on the summit. When he came down, his beard had turned white and he had sworn an oath to protect the children with his life. His beard was still white, his hair still brown, and he still bore the same faintly sad, pensive expression on his face. He did not look like a killer, but he was.

He had not forgotten his oath, but with the children safe in Roshay Bault’s care, they didn’t seem to be much in need of protection. Martis soon went back to doing some of the same kind of work he used to do in the service of the Temple. Not the murdering—not that, ever again, but there was plenty of work these days for a man who knew the Heathen countries on the other side of the mountains. Martis knew those lands and peoples about as well as any Westerner, and so made himself useful to the kingdom.

The vast army that the Thunder King sent against the city of Obann was utterly destroyed, and the Thunder King himself buried in an avalanche. But everyone in Obann who was wise knew that that did not mean peace, but only a breathing spell. There was a new Thunder King, and he would raise new armies, and there would be war again.

Martis’ work was to help Obann make ready for that war. That was why, instead of being in Ninneburky when Jack and Ellayne needed him, he was many miles to the east, in the foothills of the mountains. On the night the children set out for Obann, Martis was sitting by a campfire in the forest, conversing with barbarians.

“Yes, it’s true—the last of the Thunder King’s mardars in our country have been killed. Their scalps flap in the wind over the camps of the Turtle and the Beetle clans. Not one escaped alive.”

The speaker was an Abnak: shirtless, tattooed all over, with his head shaved clean but for a thick lock of black hair dangling from his scalp. The Abnaks lived on the eastern slopes of the mountains, and for hundreds of years used to come raiding into Obann. But now there were many of them in King Ryons’ army, and the good news was that the whole nation had revolted against the Thunder King.

“The Thunder King will want revenge for that,” said the third man at the campfire, a young Abnak named Hlah. His father was Chief Spider, who had been the first Heathen to proclaim Ryons as his king. Hlah now lived on the west slope of the mountains, with an Obannese wife named May. Like the rest of the Abnaks in King Ryons’ service, he now worshipped the true God.

“I’ve heard the same sort of tidings from the Wallekki,” Martis said. “It seems all the peoples between the Great Lakes and the mountains have risen up against the Thunder King—except for the Zephites in the north and some of the Griffs.”

Many survivors of the Thunder King’s lost army had found their way back across the mountains, bringing word of their total defeat under the walls of Obann. This, more than anything else, had shaken the Thunder King’s rule over those countries.

“He’ll only conquer them all again,” said Hlah. “Those nations will never be free until they know the true God and put their trust in Him. Obann must send men to be God’s messengers.”

The older Abnak—his name was Shoosh—gave him a sidelong glance.

“I knew your father, old Chief Spider,” said Shoosh. “It’s hard to imagine him having anything to do with Obann’s God. He was no dreamer!”

“And our God is no dream,” said Hlah. Shoosh grunted, but made no answer. After a time, Martis asked, “Do you hear anything about another army coming west?”

Shoosh spat into the fire. Somewhere nearby, an owl hooted.

“No, they haven’t gotten another army ready yet,” he said. “All I’ve heard is that they’re getting something ready—something big, the like of which we’ve never seen before. No one knows what it could be. Mardar magic, say the Attakotts—but what would they know? Something being brewed up in the Thunder King’s New Temple in Kara Karram, the Wallekki traders say. Something worse than any army. You know as much about it as I do, Westman.”

“Maybe,” Martis said; but in truth, he knew nothing. Kara Karram was very far away, and no spy for King Ryons had ever gone there and returned. The Chief Spy in Obann, Gallgoid, would just have to keep sending them until one came back with information.

The peoples between the mountains and the lakes—Abnaks, Attakotts, Wallekki, Griffs, Fazzan—were demoralized. The Thunder King had taken away their gods, and then marched their warriors into Obann to destruction. When the Thunder King was ready to move West again, would they be able to oppose him? Martis knew they would try, but doubted they could successfully defend themselves.

“Obst taught us that the Scriptures say that someday all the nations of mankind will come to God,” Hlah said. “I wonder if we’ll live to see that time.”

“You’re dreaming, lad,” said Shoosh. “We had a very fine god in our neighborhood: lived at the bottom of a pond and never gave us any trouble. If you wanted a favor from him, all you had to do was pour a little beer into the pond. But the mardars came and turned him into an old rotten log, fished him out, and carried him off to Kara Karram as a prisoner. We’ve had poor hunting ever since. But if the mardars come again, at least we have no more gods for them to take away from us.

“Mark my words,” he said, looking Hlah straight in the eye, and then Martis. “One of these days he’ll take away the God of Obann. And then where will you be?”

Hampered by the rules of Abnak etiquette, Hlah was slow to answer. But Martis said, “My friend, if your eyes had seen the things our eyes have seen, you would never speak such words. Surely your own ears heard the great bell when it rang from the top of Mount Yul; and surely your own eyes saw there was no more cloak of clouds upon the mountain.”

Yul was the old name for Bell Mountain. For as long as there had been mountains, the peak of Mount Yul was wrapped in clouds. But when Jack and Ellayne rang the bell that holy King Ozias erected there an age ago, then the eternal clouds around Mount Yul were torn away, never to return.

“I heard, and I have seen,” Shoosh said.

“It was a sign from God,” said Martis, “a sign for all the world to see. You’d be wise to trust in it.”

“When the Thunder King returns,” said Shoosh, “the Abnaks will need more than signs.”

Chapter 5

How Their Journey Began

Following the road along the river, the three children hiked all night and on into the morning. It had been a long time since Jack and Ellayne had done any walking like that, and they were tired before the sun came up. But the new day revived them, and they kept on going.

“Will your father send men on horses after us?” Fnaa asked.

“He might,” said Ellayne, meaning that he surely would. But he didn’t know which way they’d gone, and he’d lose time questioning the groom, the cook, and the neighbors.

“Well, then, hadn’t we ought to get off this road?”

“In a little bit. Then we’ll find a place to rest and have a bite to eat, too.”

Jack said nothing. He was hoping the baron would catch them before the day was done. Roshay Bault would be good and mad at them at first, but after they explained it all to him, he would understand. At least Jack hoped so.

They met no other travelers during the night. Just a year ago there were Heathen armies in this land. Some of the towns and villages had been destroyed, and it would be some time before all the farms were back in business. Indeed, there was a chance they might run afoul of Heathen stragglers. Not all of those had surrendered to the king as yet.

Birds sang the sun over the horizon. As the grey dawn crept away, wildflowers in all the colors of the rainbow refreshed the hikers’ eyes.

“I wonder how far we’ve gotten,” Jack said. “We might be half the way to Caristun. I think we’d better find a stopping-place.”

He whistled as loud as he could, and in a minute or two Wytt came scampering out of the tall grass beside the road. It was too early for bees or butterflies to be at work.

“Find us a nice, safe place to rest, Wytt,” Ellayne said. “Someplace with water to drink and where nobody will see us.”

He chattered back at her. “I know a place. Come with me,” was what he meant. “He’s found us a place already,” Ellayne said.

“How did you learn to understand him?” Fnaa said. “He just makes a lot of noises, like a squirrel.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Jack said. “In fact, it’s so hard to explain, I won’t even try. It’s just something that happened, up on Bell Mountain. Anyway, he’s smart enough to understand us. He always was.”

Wytt led them perhaps a quarter-mile from the road to a low place in a meadow where a little spring bubbled up out of the ground and made a pool. Between it and the road grew a healthy stand of ink bushes. A bird would see them camping there, but no human traveler would be likely to stumble over the site.

Gratefully, the children slipped their packs off and drank from the spring.

“Before we eat and sleep,” Ellayne said, “I’ve got a surprise for you, Fnaa.” She reached into her pack and pulled out a little jar.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s some stuff that’ll turn your hair red if you rub it in,” she said. “The cook uses it. Otherwise, her hair would be grey. Hold out your hands, both of them.”

Fnaa grinned, liking the idea. Ellayne poured some of the stuff onto his palms. “Now rub it in good,” she said. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Jack watched in amazement as Fnaa’s dark hair gradually turned red. He’d had no idea that Lanora the cook did this to her hair. Wytt didn’t like the smell of the dye, and said so. Ellayne ignored his protest.

“Does the baroness dye her hair?” Jack wondered. Vannett had golden hair like her daughter’s, only not so bright.

“What a question!” Ellayne said. “None of your business, of course.”

By and by the color was off Fnaa’s hands and into his hair. Ellayne made him do his eyebrows, too.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Odd!” said Jack; but Ellayne said, “You look like a totally different person. And you’ll need a new name to go with your new hair. I think we’ll call you Bomble. That’s short for Ambombalbap—he was a hero.”

“Bomble?” both boys said.

“Bomble will do just fine,” Ellayne said. “And now, Jack, if you’ll take the scissors and cut my hair—do try not to make a mess of it.”

Since becoming a baron, Roshay Bault didn’t lose his temper like he used to. But when he read his daughter’s note that morning, his face turned red and he shook his fists at the ceiling.

“Is she trying to put me in my grave?” he roared. “Great sakes alive, that girl will drive me mad!”

He bellowed at the groom and at the cook and scared them badly enough so that he couldn’t get anything out of them but wild looks and cringes. He didn’t stop bellowing until Vannett threatened to throw a potful of cold water in his face.

“Thank you!” he panted.