Warriors of the Black Shroud (5 page)

Chapter 9

W
alker was still a little anxious as they mounted the steps to the Royal Apartments. But he also found he was feeling surprisingly at home. It was fun to be here with Frankie. He was wary of strange things himself, but all the way to the castle she had been exclaiming with wonder and delight.

“Look at that cute dragon!”

“Wow, what a weird instrument! How great would it be to have one of those in our school band?”

“Look at that tightrope walker. I'd
love
to walk a tightrope.”

These and many more things in the Kingdom captivated Frankie, who didn't seem to be the least bit worried about being in a strange world from which there was no guarantee of return. As they climbed the stairs Walker could hear her continuing commentary on everything they saw.

Luzaro met them in the hallway outside the antechamber.

“Welcome back, Your Highness, my lord,” he said, nodding to both the boys, “and welcome to you, Miss Frankie, as well.”

“How does he know my name?” whispered Frankie to Walker.

“They seem to know everything,” he answered.

“Oooh, how spooky,” said Frankie. “Even that I'm wearing the same socks as yesterday?”

“Probably,” Walker replied.

“Yikes,” Frankie said. “I'm not sure I could live here.”

Then, as if to disprove all Walker had just told her, Fussingham came bursting through the curtain.

“Just one moment, just one moment!” he cried. “I have no record of this young woman. What is your name, child? I need details.”

“Frankie,” replied Frankie, without missing a beat. “Actually Frances Livonia Hayes, but you can call me Frankie. Put down I was born in Mass General, you must know it, it's that huge hospital, you can't miss it, and both my parents are lawyers, although actually my dad will probably be a judge soon, but my mom does real estate, and while she says it's much more boring than criminal—that's what my dad does right now—she also makes much more money, in fact heaps of it, and although she'll never be on the Supreme Court, which my dad could be although it's unlikely, she's the one that paid for the house down the road from Walker, which is how I met him and how I came to be here.”

Fussingham's silver feather pen was scratching furiously over the pages of the book he carried wherever he went. She looked over his shoulder.

“No,” she said. “‘Judge' is spelled
j-u-D-g-e
.”

“Maybe, Fussingham,” said Luzaro impatiently, “you could get this down later. The king wishes to see these three young people.”

“Yes, quite,” replied Fussingham. “Later. Good idea.”

For the time being he was a beaten man.

Luzaro led them into the antechamber, which was empty of Lightkeepers or anyone else, and had a desolate look about it, as did the king. He was sprawled on his throne at the far end, and seemed distracted and tired.

“Come here, come here.” He beckoned them over. “I am glad to see you return, Chosen One. I understand that we cannot yet hope for you as our future king, but the fact that you are here once more is encouragement enough at a time when there is little else to find reassuring. Luzaro said this young lady persuaded you to come back, and for that we thank her.”

“I don't know how much persuading I did, King,” she said with unusual modesty, “but I'm glad I did. You have a very cool Kingdom.”

“Ah, well, indeed there are chill winds blowing closer every day,” said the king, completely misunderstanding her. “It is most troubling.”

Luzaro appeared at the curtain once more.

“The Lightkeepers have returned, Your Majesty,” he announced.

“Bring them in, Luzaro. Bring them in.”

The king turned back to the three children.

“Our situation gets graver by the moment, although I am the only one who seems to see it,” he said, “and I have much to decide with my counselors. Go with my page until I have finished with them. I must talk more with you, Chosen One, about whether or not you wish to be king.”

He sat up and yelled, “Page!” at the top of his voice. From the far end of the room Astrodor pushed open the curtain and hurried toward the throne.

“Page, take these young people with you and entertain them while I am with my Lightkeepers. Bring the Chosen One back to me just before the next Quiet Hour.”

Astrodor led the three friends out of the antechamber as the Lightkeepers filed in. Their faces were grim, and Walker was glad to be away from the heavy feeling that hung over them. When they got into the courtyard everything felt lighter and more cheerful, the way it had seemed when he first arrived there.

“What would you like to do?” asked Astrodor.

“I don't know,” Walker replied. “What is there?”

“We could go to the quarry and watch them mining the stone,” Eddie suggested. “That's always interesting.”

“Or we could go to the unicorn farm and watch the babies being trained,” added Astrodor.

“Baby unicorns get my vote!” cried Frankie. “I mean, how cute can a block of stone be?”

“That would be great,” Walker agreed, “but there's something else I'd like to do—go to Astrodor's house.”

“My house?” said Astrodor. “There's nothing special about my house or my family. We're just ordinary Nebulites. Why would you want to go there?”

“It's because you're ordinary people, it would be interesting,” Walker explained. “We've spent a lot of time with the king and all the Lightkeepers but not with just regular folks.”

Frankie looked at him curiously.

“You know, you're right,” she said. “It would be kind of fun. I love seeing inside other people's houses, 'specially if they're messy. We can go to the farm afterward.”

“Let's do it,” Walker said, “but only if your family wouldn't mind, of course.”

“I'm sure they would be honored to have a Chosen One in their house,” Astrodor assured him. “I don't know who's at home right now.”

“Well,” said Frankie, “there's only one way to find out. Let's go!”

And so they followed their new friend along the same streets he had walked on his way to work. Walker could feel a tension in the air that hadn't been there on his first visit. Not every face was smiling. He overheard snatches of muttered conversation: “. . . think they're better than we are . . .” and “. . . just an Outerworld boy . . .” It was all very disturbing. Finally Astrodor stopped in front of his home.

“Like I said,” he mumbled, “it's nothing special. It's just like everybody else's house.”

“That's great,” said Frankie. “That means we don't have to go into any others. You've seen one—you've seen them all!”

They filed down the short garden path and through the open entryway that led straight into the main room. Lying on the floor were the twins, Avradin and Amradin. They were playing with small stone bricks that interlocked, and were halfway through building what looked to Walker like a fort. Behind them sat Artor on a very uncomfortable-looking stone chair reading a large book, the pages of which appeared to be made of fabric. They all looked up as their brother and the three strangers entered the room.

“Hello, my brothers,” Astrodor greeted them. “I want you to meet some people.”

The twins looked curiously at the visitors, but Artor buried himself deeper into his book.

“This is Prince Edward,” Astrodor continued. “He's a Royal Messenger and you may have seen him before. He's the king's messenger and one of the most important people in court.”

Eddie looked both pleased and embarrassed by this description, and muttered something about that being a bit of an exaggeration.

“And I'm Frankie,” said Frankie, who never needed anyone else to introduce her. “I'm from the Outerworld, which is a long way from here—at least I think it is! And this is Walker,” she continued. “He's from the Outerworld too. We live near each other.”

“Actually this is Lord Walker,” Astrodor corrected her. “He's a Chosen One.”

Amradin looked up from his building blocks, suddenly interested in the visitors for the first time.

“Are you going to be king one day?” he asked Walker.

“Can we see the mark?” his brother Avradin chimed in.

They gathered around Walker, staring at his cheek as if it was the most amazing thing they had ever seen.

“You know, being with you is like being with a celebrity,” Frankie observed.

Fame was the last thing that Walker wanted. He had always tried to go unnoticed.

“It's just something that happened when I was born,” he protested. “It's not like I did anything good to get it. It could have happened to anyone.”

“No, no, my lord,” said Astrodor, “the mark is only given to those of outstanding character. It says so in our history books.”

Eddie let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a growl. He was getting as tired of the Walker admiration as Walker was himself.

“Let's do something fun,” he said. “How about a game of rocks?”

This had the effect of taking the attention away from Walker, much to his relief. The twins disappeared into their room and returned a few moments later with a fabric bag full of round stones. They drew a circle in the dust on the floor and dropped most of them into the middle, reserving six for each player. The object of the game was to knock as many of your opponents' rocks out of the circle, much like marbles, and each time one was hit a cloud of dust rose into the air. Walker had only ever played card games by himself or sometimes with his mother, but soon he was on his knees with the other children and yelling as loud as they did when one of his rocks struck an opponent's.

It seemed there were two competitions taking place: one to win the contest, the other to see who could make the most noise. Because of this nobody heard Astrodor's mother and father enter the room along with the boys' sister, Amalia. It was only the strange doglike creature that came in with them that took the boys' attention away from their game. Artor suddenly put his book down and whistled to the animal that looked as if it was made of shiny steel wool.

“Arv—come here, boy,” he said, and then, as an afterthought, “Hi, Mom; hi, Dad.”

The boys' father stood there with a stern look on his face.

“What exactly,” he asked, “is going on here?”

“Father,” Astrodor addressed him respectfully, “the king asked me to take care of these children for a while, and they said they wanted to see a normal Nebulite home, so I brought them here to visit. Two of them come from the Outerworld, you see.”

“I'm perfectly well aware of who they are and where they come from,” his father assured him gruffly, “and I'm also well aware,” he continued, looking at Eddie, “who this person is and what his reputation is.”

“My dear, please, show a little respect,” said their mother. “This young man is a Chosen One, after all.”

“Oh, a Chosen One! So what makes him different? Nothing more than a mark on his skin, that's all,” said the father. “I don't know who chose him, but it wasn't me.”

“We're happy to have you visit. It's an honor to have a Chosen One among us,” the mother said.

“He's a child,” said the father. “He's just a child, no better than our own. All this Chosen One nonsense—it's just an old superstition.”

And with that he went into one of the rooms in the back of the house, leaving Walker perplexed.

“Wow!” Frankie whispered in his ear. “I'm glad he's not my teacher. I'd have to change schools.”

“I'm sorry,” Walker apologized to Astrodor's mother. “We didn't mean to cause trouble. We just wanted to come over and play.”

“Don't take any notice of my husband,” she assured him. “He has some funny ideas. Where he gets them from I'm sure I don't know.”

Suddenly Artor stopped stroking his pet and tilted his head to one side.

“Rider headed this way,” he said.

Everyone else listened, but none of them could hear anything.

“Artor's senses are unusually acute,” said his mother.

And sure enough, moments later Jevon appeared in the doorway.

“Jevon,” Eddie said, “what's up? Why are you here?”

“His Majesty requests a meeting with the Chosen One immediately. It is of high importance and I have been sent here to fetch him,” the knight replied.

“Just the Chosen One, not me?” Eddie asked anxiously.

“Just the Chosen One,” Jevon replied.

“Not me either,” Frankie pointed out to Eddie. “So we'll just hang here with Astrodor. Walker'll come back soon enough.”

Walker could see that Eddie was upset about being left out.

“You know, Eddie,” he said, “if seeing the king is urgent it probably means bad news. As soon as I've seen him I'll come straight back here and let you know what happened.”

“I know. You're right,” said Eddie. “I just wish he trusted me more than he does.”

Walker turned toward the knight.

“Okay,” he said, “I'm ready to go.”

Chapter 10

T
he unicorn galloped down the streets toward the palace. Whenever anything got in the way it leaped into the air, flying over every obstacle without slackening its pace. Walker was seated on the unicorn's back behind Jevon. The steady drum of hooves was interrupted by moments of quiet as the animal flew over the next hurdle. When that happened all Walker could hear was the whistling of the air as it sped past his ears.

As they galloped into the Palace courtyard another page was waiting for them and he quickly took the creature's reins. Jevon leaped from the saddle in one swift motion and then lifted Walker down.

“Come,” he said, “we must make haste.”

They hurried up the stairs. The Palace was eerily empty. Even Luzaro and Fussingham were nowhere to be seen. When they entered the antechamber they saw the king standing alone looking out one of the windows. He beckoned them toward him.

“Thank you, Jevon, for your speed,” he said. “Now please leave us and rally whatever Lightkeepers you can to accompany us, although I fear it will be very few.”

“I will do my best, sire,” Jevon replied.

Bowing as he went, the knight left the room.

“He is a brave and honorable man,” the king said to Walker. “If I had more like him I would breathe easier. Come here, young man, sit by me, and let me tell you what is about to happen.”

He walked toward one of the stone benches that lined the room, and indicated Walker should follow him. When they were seated he turned toward Walker and took both his hands.

“Now listen to me carefully,” he said, looking intently at Walker's face. “This is important. We sent another patrol to make contact with Litherium, and they too failed to get through, only this time they were not just turned back by fierce winds; they were destroyed by the power of the Black Shroud. The only survivor was a young page who accompanied them. How he escaped we do not know. Neither do we know the fate of the citizens of Litherium. The patrol was attacked before it reached them but I suspect the news isn't good.”

Walker sat still and silent. What the king said was frightening, and Walker didn't know why Leukos was telling him. What could he do? The king got up and led them both back to the window he had been looking through when they entered. As Walker gazed out he saw the city sparkling in front of him, its crowded streets pulsing with life.

“I have ruled these people longer than you can imagine,” the king continued, “and I love them dearly. They are good people, not every one, and not all the time, but they are worthy of my protection, and that I will give them until the last breath in my body. I intend to lead those of the Lightkeepers who will accompany me out to Litherium, and, if that has fallen, even beyond, until I can find a Sister City able to join us and fight the Black Count once again.”

“But why do you think you'll be able to do what the other patrols couldn't?” Walker asked.

“We will be armed with Lances of Light,” the king replied. “Do you recall the spears that hung around the walls of the Sanctuary where the Source resides? They have been there since the last battle with the Shroud, and they were the weapons that helped us defeat them. During the many Eons since then they have been absorbing energy from the sphere, and they can emit a powerful light that is like a deadly poison to our enemies.”

“Why didn't the patrols use them?” Walker asked.

“The lances are powerful,” the king explained, “but they take a long time to absorb that power, and when they are spent they are useless, so we only use them in times of extreme urgency.”

“Why don't you just order all the Lightkeepers to come with you?” Walker asked. “After all, you are the king.”

“A knight who doesn't passionately believe in the cause for which you're fighting is worse than useless,” the king replied. “No, give me a few good men or women who will be with me to the end, whatever that may be, and I will take them over legions of the halfhearted.”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Walker. This was the question that had been in his mind from the beginning, but that he had been afraid to ask.

“You may think that the mark you bear upon your cheek was an accident of birth,” the king said, “and I suppose it was, in the same way that courage is an accident of birth, or honesty, or virtue. But I can tell you that the mark is only given to those who have all of these qualities and others besides. Had you been born in our world as my son you would have been my worthy successor. However, you are not of this world, and your fate is elsewhere. I am not asking you to be my heir, but what I am asking, even begging you, is that you will remain here until my mission is over, and if it ends badly that you will use the strengths that you possess to guide my people until they find a worthy leader to replace you.”

To Walker this didn't sound like such a good deal. It seemed you got the bad parts of being king without any of the good. But even though he had only known the king a short time there was something about this old man that he admired. He never seemed worried about himself, and only thought of what was best for his people. Walker had never been quite sure what made a good person, but he felt that the king was one.

There was, of course, always the possibility that Leukos would be successful, and defeat the Black Shroud. Then everything in the Kingdom would go back to normal, and Walker would be released of the burden the king was asking him to accept. He thought for a moment, trying to make up his mind. He finally decided.

“Okay,” he said, “I'll do it, but on three conditions.”

“And what would they be?” the king asked curiously.

“That you teach me how to go between the Kingdom and the Outerworld by myself,” Walker replied. “That way I won't feel trapped here and I can see my mom and dad whenever I want to. And I also want you to teach me how to make people forget they've seen me like Eddie can do. Oh, and I would like to have my own unicorn.”

The king laughed, his face creasing into a thousand lines.

“You are a tough negotiator!” he said. “So, let's see. The first one is easy—for you, at least. Impossible for me because only people with Outerworld blood in their veins can journey between the two worlds. The secret is to picture in your mind's eye exactly where you want to end up. Then you run as fast as you can, thinking only about your destination. Do not think about anything else, and in the blink of a dragon's eye you'll be there. The unicorn is not a problem. I'll send orders to the Mistress of the Herd to pick out a nice one for you. As for the forgetting part, that's trickier. You may have to wait until my return for that one.”

There was a movement at the far end of the room, and Jevon appeared, his face set in a grim expression.

“I have the knights assembled, sire,” he said, “ready for you to lead them to Litherium.”

“How many will be in our number?” asked the king.

“Apart from me, sire, there are six,” Jevon replied.

“Six!” exploded the king. “Out of all that band of brave warriors, only six will go with me to our Sister City? Why so?”

“The others claim to have more important things to do and beg to be excused,” Jevon said.

“Ah,” said the king. “Of course. More important things like jousting and playing infernally bad music and tossing balls in the air. Much more important than saving the Kingdom or our cousins in Litherium.”

He sighed a deep sigh.

“Oh well,” he said. “So be it. Who will fight with us?”

“They are your most experienced Lightkeepers, my king,” Jevon assured him.

“Experienced! Oh dear!” exclaimed the king. “You mean old. Only the old will join me, because only they have any memory of the Shroud.”

“Their skills will compensate for their age, sire,” Jevon said.

“Let's hope so,” said the king. “I will go to the Sanctuary and get seven lances.”

“Unless you don't intend to carry one yourself, sire,” Jevon corrected him, “you will need eight. There are seven in our party if you include me.”

“I don't include you, Jevon,” said the king. “I need you here in case we don't return. You are the only one I trust to help this young man. He has the wisdom of the mark, but he is yet a boy, and hasn't the strength of a grown man. You must be that part of him.”

Jevon looked crestfallen. Then he bowed before the king.

“I have taken a sacred oath of loyalty to you, Your Majesty,” he said, “and I will do as you instruct even though my heart is elsewhere.”

“I know you will,” said the king. Then he shouted for a page and the boy who had taken the unicorn's reins appeared once more.

“Accompany this young lord to his destination, and tell the Mistress of the Herd to provide him with one of her best unicorns. We cannot have a Chosen One depending on the charity of others for his rides.”

He turned to Walker, took his hands, and looked him straight in the eyes with such sorrow that the boy feared he was about to cry.

“I hope to return,” he said, “because, old as I am, I would like to live a little longer, but also because I would like to have the time to know you better. You are a fine young man, and I would like to watch you grow into the person you are destined to become.”

Then he turned and strode out of the room, closely followed by Jevon.

“Where do you wish to go, my lord?” the page asked.

“Back to Astrodor's,” Walker replied. “It's okay, you don't have to show me. I can find my way.”

When Walker got back to the house, things were pretty much as he had left them. Eddie was on the floor with the twins, only now, instead of playing rocks, they were erecting a tall tower from the building stones. Artor was still reading and Astrodor and Frankie were sitting together in a corner talking. There was no sign of either parent. When they saw Walker return they clamored around him, asking what had happened, and had he agreed to be the king's heir, and would he be going back to the Outerworld ever again.

“I will be going back to the Outerworld often,” he told them, “and by myself.”

This brought a gasp from the listeners.

“So he taught you how to do that, did he?” Eddie asked somewhat sullenly. “Well, let me tell you, it's not as easy as you would think.”

“When you say you're going back by yourself,” Frankie questioned him, “do you mean alone or just without help? Because if you're going I'm coming with you, so don't think I'm not.”

“Okay, then. Are you ready now?” Walker asked, grasping her hand.

“You're leaving me here?” Eddie was incredulous. “I mean, just like that?”

“I've got to try this,” Walker said. “Otherwise I can't stay here. If we don't return straight away come find us. It'll mean I don't know how to get us back.”

“I just hope you get there,” Eddie warned him, “and don't get stuck somewhere between the two worlds. It would be tricky to rescue you if that happened.”

“It's a risk I'm going to take,” said Walker. “How about you?” he asked Frankie.

“Hey,” she replied. “You're a Chosen One. How bad could it be?”

They said good-bye to everyone and walked out of the house and down the street toward the avenue that ran from the Palace to the gates. When they got to the wider road Walker gripped Frankie's hand tightly and they started to run. He closed his eyes and thought of the orchard behind the barn. Faster and faster they ran, quicker than Walker had ever run before. Suddenly there was a crash and a blow that knocked the wind out of him. He looked around to see that he had run directly into the side of the barn. Sprawled in front of him was Frankie, covered in mud and grass. Behind her he could see the sun shining through the leaves of the apple trees. She looked up at him.

“Eddie's right, you know,” she gasped. “This stuff is harder than it looks.”