The Grim Conspiracy Read online

But then Nokmay chuckled. “Girl’s a slut indeed, Ickletor. She parades about in front of rich old men barely covering her breasts.” The sorceress shook her head.

  As time passed in the display it began to fade with the cooling of the paste. One more drop of oil spread over the surface and the scene of Eva sashaying by the delegation formed. Nokmay could make out the prince and the shock on his face at Eva’s disgraceful depravity. Then the vision evaporated; the foul-smelling paste darkened morphing to opaque.

  Nokmay turned away with a snarl. For sure, that tramp won’t get a husband in Octar or Korkufin. Ickletor will be lucky to pawn her off on a fishmonger, and even that will require a substantial dowry, she thought.

  “Rasa! Rasa, get in here!”

  The servant hesitated to open the creaking door and looked at her mistress but said not a word.

  “Get this nasty mess out of here. It’s stinking up this dump. How long before that rabbit is done? I can’t wait all night for food. I have places to go and things to do.”

  Rasa dashed in to scrape up the hardened, former goop.

  “Get that rat too. You can cook it for your breakfast if you like.” Though her servant was facing the stone she was scraping, Nokmay grinned noting the grimace on Rasa’s face. “Don’t want to be wasting good food.”

  Soon the two were sitting on a log outside by a fire. Nokmay was gnawing the flesh from a steaming rabbit leg thinking all the while.

  That carcass I left suspended over the sinkhole to draw scavengers must be rotted and falling in by now. The scavengers that fell in trying to grab it would feed those nasty black creatures below for a while, but soon they will need more dead flesh, and the dark god will find me. I must secure bodies and soon. My sweet slut Eva was so kind to provide me with a source.

  She suddenly cackled. Immobilized, Rasa looked at her. Nokmay felt the stare, “Shut up and eat your food.”

  *

  Next morning, Nokmay set out to find Ickletor once again. She kept to the edges of woods and slipped into their shadows when she saw anyone before they saw her. She’d walked a while towards where she had last seen him hoping he’d be there once again. She began to pass by the canals that had brought water to crops growing on rafts, but as she passed, more and more of the rafts sat askew in the cracking mud at the bottoms of the former waterways. Sun-bleached brown crops stood shriveled crowning the rafts like tombstones in a cemetery.

  She heard voices and ducked into the underbrush as she crept forward. Two farmers from opposite sides of the canal, their clothes ragged and muddy rushed towards a lone raft. A pale green plant with a single small squash topped the raft radiant amid all the brown. One farmer was shaking a hoe at the other as he rushed for the treasure. The second farmer shook his shovel as he, too, hurried for the delicacy.

  No wonder Ickletor is despondent, Nokmay thought. This is a disaster. These people are holding him responsible for bringing the rains to save their city. He’s sacrificed even their children. What more can he do to forestall their rebellion when they realize he has none of the power to appease his stone god he’s claimed? They will tear him to shreds. When it is too late to save the crops here, he will have no choice but to press King Jornak to declare war on a neighboring city to take their grain to get through the winter. From what I just saw, that time has about come. Tingtwang will get his corpses after all.

  She moved deeper into the woods and continued to search for the high priest until she found him. Her new knowledge gave her a thrill. She knew now she had the control and the means to secure the bodies she needed, and Ickletor would help her to get them.

  *

  When Octar had defeated Tigmoor years before, Ickletor had insisted on securing many of the greatest temple’s treasures as tribute and reparations. The general who had revealed the Book of the Underworld was hidden deep under the temple had truly feared it. When Ickletor found one of the priests, the terrified man revealed the book contained, among other spells the spell that kept the dead in the underworld. The priest’s terror at even revealing that, and his fear of the book itself, made Ickletor fearful of the book’s power, too. He had hidden the tome behind Yingnak’s enclosure and almost forgotten it.

  In his desperation, Ickletor remembered the volume and had brought it out from its hiding place. He was now attempting to make sense of it in secret. Spells with pictographs filled it that chilled his spine. He’d only read half of one when he looked up thinking he understood why the priests and kings of Tigmoor feared others seeing the book. Every chapter and spell came with endless skull warnings.

  If these spells have any validity, he thought, there are so many ways to affect the world… and so many ways to destroy it.

  He had begun scanning a section on what appeared to be population control when its tone turned threatening. The dragon symbol alarmed him. He gasped and closed the book and then walked out on the temple platform looking over the plaza far below. The people were thin, weary, moving slowly in their daily tasks. Some looked up. Their eyes and sneers communicated their frustration with his failed promises. Their confidence in Yingnak and his priests was turning to anger and mistrust.

  His growing alarm resurfaced. Ickletor descended the stairs at the back of the temple with the sacred book in hand. He slipped away from the pyramid, journeying towards his private retreat north of the city. The people jostled his litter as he passed even though he’d closed his curtains. He heard mumblings, the tones threatening. When he passed into the countryside and approached his estate, he sent the litter on to the house and walked by his fields, brown and withered.

  A sudden movement in a small clump of trees near the edge of the woods caught his eye. Someone was trying to get his attention. He gripped the book, hesitated, and then walked closer still. Nokmay rushed out to meet him. When he saw her approaching, a plan hatched in his mind.

  The nasty witch would be useful after all, he decided. I’d have to move with haste. I didn’t have long before the people demand my sacrifice.

  “Why must you keep harassing me, Nokmay?” Ickletor asked. “I can do nothing for you.”

  “I seek nothing, high priest, but your daughter seeks an alliance with Prince Temkin of Korkufin. There is a Korkufin delegation in the city. I want you to aid her in her ambition. She will end up a whore here in Octar if you don’t. Arrange a meeting for them. Give the prince your blessing should he indicate interest in her.”

  Ickletor smiled for the first time in a long time. “I’ll do better than that. The prince won’t have her, well, not as his wife. No, but you will aid her.”

  Nokmay looked askance at Ickletor. You are never so quick to offer anyone help. What are you up to?”

  “Let’s say we have mutual interests. I shall take Eva with Numa tonight to the king’s feast honoring Prince Temkin. The prince will reject her when she disgraces herself with scandalous flirting. The rejection will soften her defiance to what I propose.”

  “You, Nokmay, will take your daughter with you when you return to Tigmoor tomorrow. You will get her admitted into King Agmar’s presence. I shall send an attendant from the temple with her carrying letters requesting Agmar admit her into his court. Fair enough?”

  Nokmay drew back as her eyes narrowed, “I hadn’t planned on returning the Tigmoor tomorrow.”

  Ickletor’s tone turned dark, “Oh, but you wish me to bless your daughter. Then have her accompany you on your journey lest she becomes someone’s whore at the first opportunity after he rejects her tonight. If she is to become a noble lady, you must guide and control her lust before she sacrifices her maidenhood without advantage.” He sneered, “Assuming she hasn’t lost it to some muscled bull already.”

  “Why should I care what she does?”

  “You care, witch because you are old as death itself. Withered as you are, even you must succumb to time. If Eva manages to secure Agmar’s confidence, possibly as his mistress, not only will it curb her appetites, but she will be in a position to grant you comforts in your
wretched decline.”

  The witch’s lip curled displaying her disgust. “Well, I suppose I could keep an eye on her. You want more than just getting her out of your way, Ickletor. ”

  “Yes, my dear Nokmay, but now, for once in your wretched life, you will be accorded protection and some degree of comfort on your journey. When the time is right, I will require that you deliver a message to King Agmar. It must come from you and not me.”

  “I don’t know what you are up to, High Priest. I shall make you pay dearly should your plot fail at my expense.”

  “I have only one other requirement,” Ickletor said. “You must keep Eva in Tigmoor until I say she may return.”

  Nokmay chuckled, “Maybe that won’t be too difficult. It will be a new hunting ground for our lusty sexual predator.”

  12: A Journey Planned

  At King Jornak’s palace that evening, Ickletor let slip the faintest smile having spotted Eva cornering Prince Temkin on a balcony. She whispered something, and he turned red. When he stepped back and glared at her, his eyes blazed as white globes. He spun around and returned to the feast inside the great hall.

  Invariably the little tramp, Ickletor thought. She can’t control her lusts and moves too quickly in her seduction. Pity… the tongues are wagging around the hall like ripples in a pond from a stone toss. She’s just doomed any chance she had of getting a suitable husband here. Numa did a poor job of shepherding her bastard stepdaughter growing up.

  Then Ickletor’s attention shifted to a giggle near him. Princess Kayla made her entrance with Prince Malladar. When the prince returned to the banquet table for more delicacies, Ickletor approached him.

  “Prince Malladar, I wonder if I might have a few moments of your time tomorrow.”

  Surprised, Malladar turned and bowed to the high priest. “I’d be honored to meet with you tomorrow when it is convenient for you, my lord. I’m surprised you can spare me time as busy as you are.”

  Ickletor gave the faintest of nods with just a hint of a smile, “Join me at my office in the temple at noon if that’s not too early for you.” He glanced at Princess Kayla who smiled, blushed, and lowered her head.

  “As you wish,” Malladar said. He returned to Kayla’s side, where they shared treats from his plate.

  *

  Ickletor was checking the copy of a map he’d had Sestec make from the Book of the Underworld when Toda ushered Malladar into his office. His assistant’s quizzical expression confirmed he needed to withhold as much information as possible from his nosy assistant.

  “That will be all, Toda,” Ickletor said. “Would you go now and run that errand I mentioned earlier?”

  “But my lord, you might need me here to record your meeting,” Toda said. His voice trailed off, seeing Ickletor’s glower. He bowed and scrambled out the door closing it firmly behind him.

  Ickletor rose and poured two drinks. He handed one to the prince and sat again, motioning the crown prince of Tigmoor to a seat across from his desk.

  “Prince Malladar, you have been with us a long time. You have trained well in the arts of war and diplomacy, I suspect. One day soon you will succeed your father as the king of Tigmoor.”

  “None too soon, I hope,” Malladar said. He flushed, having interrupted the high priest. His tense fingers massaged his knees.

  Ickletor nodded indulgence and continued, “Perhaps it is time you tested your skills on a small quest I have in mind. You must do more than entertain Princess Kayla in preparation for your future’s exalted position.”

  The veiled slight drained Malladar’s smile.

  Having established his higher status for the moment, Ickletor softened the affront by testing the prince’s vanity and ego. “Just imagine how proud Kala will be of you when you return triumphant from this mission.”

  “What does this quest entail?” Malladar asked, setting his goblet on the desk.

  Ickletor rotated the map in front of him and slid it across the desk before Malladar.

  “There is a unique, black stone I discovered I need for an important ritual. It’s an unusual stone; heavy for its size I’m told. It’s called The Eye of Dindak and has been hidden a long time in a shrine deep in the Purple Mountains to the west.”

  Malladar was studying the map. He looked up, “The Purple Mountains are almost to Korkufin. That could be quite a journey.”

  You’re not afraid of traveling through the forest, are you young man?” Pride and vanity, thought Ickletor, have made fools of many a young man bent on proving himself. “This is your chance to demonstrate your manhood. Why… this mission is a great opportunity. I’d thought to offer it to you first due to your high rank. Shall I offer it to another instead?”

  Malladar jumped up, “No, my lord! I shall undertake this quest, so all will know I am worthy of my father and the throne of Tigmoor… when the time comes.”

  Ickletor pointed to Malladar’s goblet and raised his own for a toast. “We men must work together for the common good.” They clinked vessels and took swallows to seal the commitment. Ickletor beamed, and Malladar responded in kind.

  I have his commitment now, Ickletor thought. His pride will not let him bow out in the future.

  “How will I find this shrine?”

  “I will give you more details before you leave. The quest has some urgency, you understand, the weather crisis and all. I shall send my faithful assistant, Toda with you. You know him of course. You are in charge of this expedition, Malladar. Toda will do as he’s told. Just remind him of his place should he forget it. He tends to overstep his place. Keep the nature of this journey to yourself. Can you do that?”

  “If you think it important.”

  “It is very important indeed. You must not reveal what you are searching for.”

  Ickletor stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. Malladar put his goblet on the desk and rose as well. Ickletor escorted the prince to the door, putting his arm around the young man’s shoulder.

  “You will find The Eye and bring it to me, do you understand? Do not fail me. Your discretion is critical, Malladar. You must not mention this quest before leaving, not even to Princess Kayla. Tell her and the king you must go on a mission and say no more. She will be so surprised and thrilled on your return.”

  As he closed the door, Ickletor thought he caught a glimpse of Toda ducking back inside his tiny room. He smiled. Soon I shall be rid of that sniveling little assistant and have the young rival out of Princess Kayla’s sight, he thought.

  *

  Malladar was very quiet that afternoon when He and Kayla met at a royal estate outside the city.

  “Stop poking me, Kayla,” Malladar said. His raised voice reflected the tension in his face.

  Kayla tossed the stick she held and came to sit beside the prince. “What’s gotten into you, my love? You’re always so playful. Now you are as morose as my father when the nobles press him on matters of state. You were jovial last night at the feast. What’s happened to you?”

  Malladar leaned forward, bobbing his head between his knees; he poked a shriveled fruit on the ground with a stick then threw it. He stood up and looked west towards the sinking sun.

  “It seems I need to grow up. I can’t be your toy forever.”

  “Oh… that sounds serious. Will you now conquer a great city or slay a dragon?” Kayla chuckled until she saw her jest hadn’t registered with him.

  Malladar turned to face Kayla, “I’m going on a quest. I’m a man now. I’ve been given a task which I must now undertake. I can’t tell you what it entails, but you will be very proud of me when I return. Your father will take me seriously as your suitor then.”

  Kayla stood up. “What has my father put you up to? He must think you are getting too attached to me and me to you if he has put you up to this task. I will speak to him and have him stop this nonsense.”

  Malladar looked Kayla in the eye. “You must do nothing of the sort. Don’t you see? I must do this. I must prove my manhood, my worthines
s to take the throne of Tigmoor!”

  Kayla’s lips pinched. “Someone has put father up to this.”

  “Your father has nothing to do with this, Kayla. Please let it be. I will be back soon, and you will be so proud of me.”

  The two sat for a while in silence.

  “When will you leave?” Kayla asked.

  “Soon, very soon.”

  “Then, so be it. You’d better return to me, Malladar. I won’t wait for you forever. A princess must have a consort as a king must have a queen.”

  *

  When Ickletor and Malladar met next, the priest again extended the map to the prince. Immediately, Malladar noted places identified on the map that weren’t there when he’d seen it before. There were tunnels, gorges, and places marked with ‘X’s without explanation. Somehow, it looked more ominous. Most notably, there was now a coiled viper and a scorpion brandishing its lethal tail at opposite ends of the bottom of the map.

  “Have you teased your lovely Kayla with hints of your mission?” Ickletor asked.

  “I’ve told her I was going. I didn’t reveal the nature of the quest.” Malladar looked up at the priest eye to eye.

  Ickletor handed the prince a goblet, and they took sips eyeing each other.

  “Excellent, I knew I could count on you. You are to leave in two days; the morning would be best. Time is short, you understand. I shall have all ready for your journey. You need but your weapons. One never knows what one will encounter on such a journey into unfamiliar places.”

  Malladar started to roll up the map then hesitated. “What do the snake and scorpion figures at the bottom represent?”

  “Nothing I’m sure. Probably just some indication you should be careful. The original map is very old, possibly from a civilization preceding our own. You might have no disturbances at all on your journey now.”

  The prince rolled up the map. “I shall come here before sunrise so we can slip away without notice as you wish,” Malladar said. Then he left.

  Alone in his chamber, Ickletor took a deep draught from his goblet. I shall be rid of that rival and perhaps in his loss have a war to divert the people’s attention, he thought. “If he returns, I shall have the mysterious sky-stone to bring Death to do my bidding. Either way, I win.