Warriors of the Black Shroud (2 page)

BOOK: Warriors of the Black Shroud
3.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter 3

T
he following morning Walker's mother was baking in the kitchen. She looked up and smiled at him as he entered, her hands and apron covered in flour. A smear of it was on her forehead where she had brushed the hair out of her eyes.

“Good morning,” she said. “What are you going to do today?”

His mother cut the pastry for the top of the pie, frowning with concentration as she worked.

“Nothing much,” said Walker.

“You know, even though I like having you watch me bake,” said his mother, “wouldn't you rather be out on a lovely day like today playing with someone your own age? I wish you had more friends.”

“I do,” Walker assured her. “I have a new friend. I met him yesterday.”

“You did?” said his mother. “That's wonderful. What's his name? Why didn't you bring him home? I'd like to meet him.”

“Well . . .” Walker shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

“Ah,” said his mother. Then, after a pause, she asked, “Is he a real friend or another imaginary one?” Mrs. Watson had experience of Walker making up friends as a substitute for the real thing.

“No, he's real, all right.”

“Tell me all about him. What he's like?” urged his mother.

“Well, he says he's a prince,” Walker replied, “and he has a huge sword and a dagger and a Red Sox jacket.”

“I see” was all Walker's mother said, and she lifted up the top of the pie and carefully put it in place. Feeling a little foolish, he mumbled something to her about playing in the backyard, and after he left the house he ambled down the path toward his box.

Why had he said anything about Eddie at all? He would probably never see the boy again, and yet he kept on thinking about what Eddie had said and the way he had vanished. Thoughts about the stranger were filling so much of his mind that he couldn't concentrate on his book, so he sat on the stone wall that the box was wedged against, kicking his legs backward and forward.

Suddenly he saw a dim shape shimmering in the air in front of him. At first it was just a faint outline, but it got more solid and more real the closer it came. It was Eddie! He was traveling at speed and almost crashed into Walker and the wall, causing his fedora to tilt at an awkward angle. His sword waved dangerously in the air as he tried to balance himself.

“Whoa!” he cried. “I think I overdid it a bit, but I was in a hurry. We have some things we have to do before we can go to the Kingdom, so I'm glad you're on time.”

Eddie was already striding off toward the barn at the back of the yard, leaving Walker to run after him to catch up.

“What sort of things?” Walker inquired.

“We have to make an entry point,” Eddie said, “in order to transport you. Me, I can just pop in and out as I please, but for a human it's a bit trickier.”

“What do you mean, ‘for a human'?” Walker asked him. “Aren't you human? You look it—more or less.”

“Yes, well, ‘more or less' pretty much describes it,” Eddie agreed. “I sort of am and am not. But it would take way too much time to explain it to you now. We have things to do and they'll take a little effort.”

The effort turned out to be neither little nor Eddie's. He led them around to the back of the barn, a rickety old structure that was now mostly used to store garden tools and Mr. Watson's lawn tractor. When they were out of view from the house Eddie instructed Walker to get a spade.

“What do we need a spade for?” he asked.

“We've got to dig a hole to get you started,” Eddie answered.

“Why?” asked Walker.

“Dig and you'll soon find out,” Eddie assured him.

“I have to dig my way to this kingdom of yours?” Walker said. “I don't think so! It doesn't sound very magical to me. If you really were a wizard you could make the hole appear by itself. But then, if you really, really were a wizard we wouldn't need a hole in the first place.”

“I never said I was a wizard,” Eddie protested. “I said I knew some magic, which I do, but like everything else magic needs preparation and preparation often involves hard work, so start digging.”

“Why do I have to dig?” Walker asked. “What's wrong with you starting?”

“You're the one who wants to go there,” Eddie replied.

“No, I'm not,” Walker reminded him. “You're the one who wants to take me there. I could care less.”

Actually this wasn't altogether true. Walker was starting to get curious about this kingdom. And the way Eddie had vanished yesterday and reappeared today—there must be some magic in that. There
must
be!

And so, when it was clear for whatever reason that Eddie wasn't going to lift a finger, he reluctantly began to dig. After about half an hour there was a fairly large hole. Walker rested on the spade and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a muddy hand.

“Come on,” Eddie exhorted him. “There's no time to be resting.”

“Resting seems to be working fine for you,” said Walker. “As far as I'm concerned this is a perfectly good hole, and I'm not going to dig anymore.”

Eddie sighed, lifted the front of his fedora, and scratched his head.

“Well,” he said, “I guess it will have to do.”

He took Walker's hand and they both stood on the rim. The hole wasn't very impressive, Walker had to admit, but he was determined to do no more if Eddie wasn't prepared to help.

“I'm going to count to three, and then we jump in together,” Eddie said.

“No way,” Walker protested. “Not until you tell me why!”

“You are such a pain,” Eddie replied. “Why is because if you don't jump you're going to wish you had for the rest of your life.”

“If I don't jump, how will I know?” he asked.

“That's precisely my point,” said Eddie, and then he leapt into the hole, pulling Walker after him.

King Leukos sighed. He was very old, and right now he felt it as he watched one of his favorite knights talking to a page.

Everyone
, he thought,
is so much younger than me, and so innocent of the dangers that surround us.

But his age was only one of his worries, and not even the most troublesome.

“My lord Jevon,” he commanded, with the clear tone of one who was used to being obeyed. The knight turned toward him.

“Your Majesty?” he replied.

“I have not seen Lady Lumina,” the king said. “Do you know where she is?”

“Yes, sire,” Jevon replied. “I believe she has organized jousting games for the Lightkeepers in the meadows next to the farm.”

“Games!” cried the king in a despairing voice. “All anyone seems to do around here is play games. We're facing the biggest threat to the safety of this kingdom in many Eons, and my Lightkeepers play games.”

“Lady Lumina thinks it is a way for us all to hone our fighting skills,” the knight assured him.

“Prancing around on overbred unicorns waving lances at one another isn't going to scare either the Black Count or the Warriors of the Black Shroud, I can assure you of that,” said the king. “And if everyone's honing their fighting skills, why aren't you with them?”

“It's my turn to command the royal guard, sire,” the knight replied.

“Well in that case, get that boy—what's his name?” asked the king, pointing to the page.

“Astrodor, sire,” Jevon informed him.

“Get him to come over here. I have a task for him to do,” the king ordered.

Jevon went over to get the page, while the king sat on his throne, a worried expression deepening the lines on his already wrinkled face. When Jevon returned with the page the monarch stood up and put his hands on the boy's shoulders.

“Now listen here, Astrodor,” the king said. “I have an important mission for you. Do you have a unicorn?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Astrodor replied.

“The boy can use mine, sire,” Jevon assured the king. “He's tethered in the courtyard.”

“Very good,” said the king. “Now I want you to ride like the blazes to the meadows by the unicorn farm and tell Lady Lumina that the king commands her and all the Lightkeepers to attend him at the Palace immediately.”

“Yes, sire,” said Astrodor. “At once.”

The page was so excited either by his mission or the prospect of riding Jevon's unicorn that he turned and ran from the room instead of slowly walking backward as was the customary way of leaving the king's presence.

“Oh, for the energy of youth,” remarked the king as he watched the boy disappear.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Jevon. “A wonderful thing, but I think I prefer the wisdom of age.”

“Wisdom without action is worthless,” the king told his knight, “and action demands energy. I sometimes wonder if I have enough of either to guide my people through these perilous times.”

“You have the vitality of men half your age, sire, and you've never let your people down,” Jevon said.

“In one way I have,” replied the king. “I have no successor, no heir to take over my responsibilities when the time comes. That is a failure, in my opinion. And speaking of successors, isn't Prince Edward due to return about now? Where's Luzaro?”

The king clapped his hands to summon his servant. The curtains at the far end of the chamber parted and through them came a tall, dignified man.

“Your majesty?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Luzaro,” said the king, “is there any news of Prince Edward?”

“I believe he has just arrived, Your Majesty,” Luzaro assured him, “and he's in the company of an Outerworlder. They should be in the palace shortly.”

“Please show them both in as soon as they get here,” said the king.

“Very good, sire,” replied his servant, and he left the room.

The king sighed. The boy had brought him many candidates from the Outerworld, but none of them had been right. Eddie's latest claim to have found the perfect contender did not fill the king with any optimism.

“Time is short,” he said to himself. “This has to be the one.”

Eddie was clearly in a hurry. As soon as Walker was steady on his feet the prince took him by the hand and started to bustle his way through the crowds of people on the streets. When the passersby saw the mark on Walker's cheek they turned to stare, but not in the way Walker was used to. They seemed to be looking at a precious object they had never seen before. But the thing that struck Walker with the greatest force, and that washed away his fear of being in this strange place, was the energy he could feel. It was almost as if the very air charged him like he was a battery, and he felt invincible.

Eddie turned on to what appeared to be the main avenue, a road divided by a center strip of grass. On it at regular intervals were statues of men and women, each holding a shining round orb in the right hand. When Walker looked to the left he could see in the far distance a huge pair of gates set into the city walls. To the right the broad thoroughfare led up to the castle. Eddie had let go of his hand and was striding toward it at a rapid pace. Walker had to grab hold of his Red Sox jacket to slow him down.

“Eddie, where are we going?” he demanded.

“To the palace.” Eddie nodded toward the large building. “You have an appointment with the king, and he doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Why would the king want to see me?” Walker asked.

“Everything will be revealed when we get there,” Eddie replied. “All I can say is you'd better get used to being called ‘my lord.' ”

Chapter 4

T
he palace was smaller than it had first appeared from the outside, no more than two or three stories tall. There were no windows, just openings in the walls at irregular intervals, and wide staircases leading to the upper floors. Everything was made of bronze-colored stone that looked metallic at first glance, but was apparently soft and crumbly. Whenever someone brushed against it a cloud of fine dust drifted into the air. Eddie noticed Walker looking at this, and seemed to read his thoughts.

“Don't worry,” he said. “I've seen it do that for hundreds of years. It's not going to collapse anytime soon.”

Walker looked at his strange companion. The boy appeared to be no more than ten, eleven at the most. How could he know what the building had been like for so long? This was a question that would have to be answered later, for Eddie was now striding toward a staircase that led to a square tower. Walker had to run to catch up to him.

“Wait for me!” he cried. “Where are we going?”

“I told you,” Eddie replied. “To see the king.”

There were no lamps on the staircase. It relied on the glow from the walls for light. They had climbed up two levels of the tower when they came upon a soft rope hooked across the stairway. The rope looked as if it was made of spun gold, and to one side of it a notice was posted.

Citizens of the Kingdom of Nebula,

These stairs lead to

The Royal Apartments.

You are requested to respect them

And only enter upon urgent business

With the King.

Code of Light Section 3 Subsection 24

Eddie unhooked one end of the shimmering rope and held it to let Walker pass through.

“Are we allowed to come in here? Isn't it just for royals?” Walker asked, glancing at the notice.

“We
are
royalty. Why would we not be allowed into the Royal Apartments?” Eddie replied.

“Well, you might be,” said Walker, “but I'm not. In my country we don't have royalty.”

“You're not in your country,” Eddie pointed out, “and things are a little different here. Actually a lot different,” he added.

At the top the stairway opened onto a large, bare room decorated with huge paintings of a terrible battle. Warriors dressed in silver armor, just like the knight on the unicorn that Walker had seen earlier, were fighting huge giants whose faces were covered by heavy black shrouds. Despite the difference in their size the smaller fighters seemed to be winning. Their massive catapults heaved gleaming balls into the air, while riders threw lances that shone brightly in the dark landscape. The giants were in retreat, some stumbling over the bodies of their fallen comrades. Walker was so fascinated by these decorations that he did not notice a man come into the room from behind a curtain.

“Welcome back, Your Royal Highness,” he said. “I trust your mission was successful?”

“I think so, Luzaro, but that's for His Majesty to decide,” Eddie said.

As if to confirm this, a bellowing sound came from the other side of the drape.

“Am I to wait here for another Eon until you decide to bring them in?” roared the king. “What's the point of being king, I ask you, if people take their own sweet time to do what you tell them?”

Luzaro looked at Eddie and smiled a conspiratorial smile.

“I think we should go in, don't you?” he said.

Eddie nodded, and Luzaro threw back the curtain to reveal a room full of people, many of them dressed in mirrored armor. At the far end was the source of all the commotion—the king. He was seated on an enormous, shining throne, but rose to his feet as they entered. Before the two boys could go forward to meet him, a short, worried-looking little man ran up, an enormous book cradled in his arms and an old-fashioned quill pen in one hand.

“Just one moment, boys,” he said. “I have to get a few details from our Outerworld friend before we go any farther.”

“Fussingham,” roared the king, “will you go away and leave us alone!”

“But, sire,” complained the little man, “I have to record the time and details of this meeting, as well as the young man's name and particulars. It's for the Book of the Kingdom.” He offered the book up to the sovereign as if in evidence.

“If you don't vanish immediately,” shouted the king, “you'll also be recording the time of your banishment from the royal household and the details of your new employment in the stone quarry!”

With almost a squeal the book's custodian scurried away.

“Never was a man more aptly named than Fussingham,” sighed the king. “Come here, boy; come here and let me have a look at you.”

The King was obviously very old, but even from across the room Walker could see that he was still powerful. He was tall, straight, and looked very strong. He was also someone used to giving orders and having them obeyed, and it never occurred to Walker not to do as he was told. The two boys moved toward him, and as they did the knights parted to let them through. When they were within a few feet of the throne the king hurried toward them.

“Let's see what you've brought me this time,” he said to Eddie.

Then he went up to Walker, took his chin in his hand, and turned the right side of the boy's head toward him. He looked at the mark on Walker's cheekbone and a triumphant smile broke out across his face.

“Finally!” he shouted. “Finally you've brought me a true Chosen One. I knew there must be one in all the Outerworld.”

He then took Walker's hand in his own, led him to the throne, sat down, and looked Walker straight in the eye. The boy saw that the king's eyes shone like Eddie's.

“Now listen carefully to me, young man,” the king began. “You should know how important you being here today is to this small Kingdom. We have looked for someone like you for Eons, or hundreds of your Outerworld years. That mark you bear on your face means that your destiny is to rule this realm and to be its king when I pass on. Our messenger here”—he nodded toward Eddie—“has brought me many candidates. You are the only one who bears the true mark of a Chosen One. You will learn, as we get to know each other, how important that is, but for now sit next to me while I conduct some rather tiresome business with these people here. Luzaro, bring the young lord a chair.”

Walker felt panic rising up in his chest. All he could think about was a story he had seen recently on TV. It was about a boy who had been kidnapped and held until his father paid a ransom to his captors. Walker's situation seemed far worse than that. He had allowed himself to be abducted by Eddie because of his stupid curiosity and for the sake of a few magic tricks, and now he was trapped in an alien world in the power of a king who would keep him there to be the next ruler. His captor wasn't interested in money or anything else his parents might hand over in exchange for Walker's freedom. The king was only interested in the hateful mark on Walker's face.

Walker knew that he had to stay calm. His one hope was to persuade Eddie to take him back. It was unlikely the boy would do it willingly, given that he had apparently spent so long looking for someone like Walker, but maybe Walker could trick him into returning. Maybe he could say that he had left something behind that he needed, or that he wanted to say good-bye to his parents. That he might never see them again was too painful to even think about. Somehow he
had
to trick Eddie into taking him back, and once there he would fill in the hole in the garden and that would be an end to it. For the moment, however, it was vital that he appear to cooperate with the king's plans, so he sat in the chair Luzaro had brought for him and listened to what was going on.

The king was striding up and down declaring in a loud voice that a group called the Warriors of the Black Shroud was on the move and that there wasn't a moment to be lost in preparing for the defense of the Kingdom. It was clear to Walker even in his frightened state that the others were uncomfortable with what the king was saying. Some of them looked down at their feet in an embarrassed way, and the less they heeded him the louder the king became.

“The last patrol that tried to get through to Litherium disappeared completely!” he yelled. “We still don't know what has happened to them. They could all be dead or enslaved by now while we listen to minstrels and watch jugglers and do nothing.”

A tall, dignified woman walked forward to address the king. She had cropped white hair and wore waist-length armor over a long, flowing white gown with a short gold-trimmed cape on top of it all. She was not a young woman, but like the king she projected the energy and power of someone more youthful. For the first time Walker noticed that the armor that appeared to be made of metal was flexible and moved with the wearer, bending its form to her body.

“Your majesty,” she began, “even though you haven't been outside the walls in some time you will probably remember that there are often unusual weather conditions in Diabolonia that make travel difficult.”

“Lumina,” said the king, more quietly now but just as determinedly, “I may be older than you but my memory is still sound and I know of no weather conditions so unusual that they can make an entire patrol disappear. I also remember that the Black Count swore revenge when we defeated him at the Battle of Barren Plains, and although that was several Eons ago I know that he hasn't forgotten either.”

“He may not have forgotten, sire,” Lumina continued, “but he hasn't the resources to defeat us. He didn't then and he hasn't now.”

“Resources!” exploded the king, back to full shouting mode. “What resources would he need? Just look at what's in front of me. These are the Lightkeepers, my Warrior Class, the Defenders of the Realm. When was the last time any of them fought? In fact, how many of them have fought at all? Only you, Lumina, have ever been in battle, you and the child warrior over there, and he's been cursed for eternity.”

Eddie shifted about awkwardly when the king said this.

“And how much training have they done?” the king continued. “And I don't count these jousting parties you organize from time to time. No, you mark my words, Lumina, we would be defenseless against any attack the Black Shroud could bring. Our only hope is that the Sister Cities are better prepared than we are.”

Lumina stood in front of the king, her head bowed. She then raised it and looked the monarch straight in the eyes.

“Your majesty,” she continued, “because of the bravery and sacrifices of you and your knights of old we have had peace in the Kingdom for as long as any of its citizens have been alive. You are right when you say that I am the only one of the Lightkeepers who lived through those days of fear and sorrow, and the terror that almost came to the walls of our homes. I have seen death and mourning, and I do not want to visit those places again. But I have also seen the casualties we inflicted upon our enemies. You remember the Black Count vowing revenge; I remember him fleeing in humiliation. I do not believe that after all these years he will attack us again. If we leave him alone he will remain in the deep wastes of Diabolonia, but if we provoke him he will defend himself and then the beasts that surround him will be enraged and the nightmares of the past will return. I most strongly advise you, sire, not to let that happen. Let our sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters enjoy the fruits of the peace that you and your comrades fought so hard for.”

There was a murmur of approval among the crowd at the end of Lumina's speech, and from the expression on his face the king was not happy.

“I could do as you say and ignore the threat beyond the Kingdom's walls,” he said, “but what about those within our boundaries? What about the Nightangels?”

“Nightangels, sire?” The king's remark caught Lumina by surprise. “It never occurred to me that Nightangels might actually exist. I always looked upon them as make-believe creatures used to scare disobedient children.”

“No, Lumina,” said the king. “They exist.”

“What evidence is there of their presence then, sire?” Lumina asked. “I see none. Most of our people are happy and content, but they will not remain so for long if they sense that their leaders live in fear.”

The king looked around at the assembly and then turned his attention to Walker.

“Well, Chosen One,” he said, “what do you think?”

Walker said nothing for a few moments, and then he blurted out something he had been determined not to say.

“Please—I want to go home!”

BOOK: Warriors of the Black Shroud
3.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Off Broadway by Watts, Janna
The Will To Live by Tanya Landman
Whispered Magics by Sherwood Smith
Rogue in Porcelain by Anthea Fraser
To Come and Go Like Magic by Katie Pickard Fawcett
Baller Bitches by Deja King