Forest & Kingdom Balance (5 page)

“She must not have been cursed
with beauty when she was young.”
Thought Atheria. “Whatever
my sisters and I can do for our people, we will do Elder.” Her
composure matched or exceeded her elder’s.

“How far along are you with the Remembrance Dance?”
Isabelle inquired.

“The Remembrance Dance?” Atheria vented her
frustration. “The Red Knight is about to arrive and you want to
discuss the Remembrance Dance?” She wondered if Isabelle had dimmed
a bit with age. “Even the youngest child knows that it would be
certain death if anyone from the court knew that we celebrated
Remembrance, with or without the Red Knight’s arrival.”

“You misunderstand child, listen closely and take a
moment to think.” Isabelle’s patience was wearing thin. “The king
will feel threatened by the Red Knight’s arrival and will order a
banquet as quickly as possible to honor him. That means tonight,
which will also mean a great deal of confusion at the palace. By
tomorrow the court will have adjusted and we will have lost our
only opportunity. You must perform the Remembrance Dance for the
Red Knight tonight.” Isabelle paused, waiting for a reaction.

Atheria’s shock was total. After a moment to process
the insane idea, she calmly spoke, “We are fully prepared and
rehearsed Elder, but before I would be responsible for bringing
retribution on our people, I will slit my own throat. Would you
like me to do it now, or wait for you to leave?”

To Atheria’s surprise, Isabelle’s response came in a
softer, caring tone. “You are correct my sister, we will be risking
all, but please put aside your fear, there is an opportunity here
you may not have seen. The Red Knight has not visited these shores
for hundreds of years. The first task he will set himself is to
assess the king and his court for loyalty and competence. If we can
place doubt in the Red Knight’s mind on either of those points
before he has a chance to assess them for himself, then all his
future judgments will be colored by that doubt.”

Atheria took a moment to balance the risk and
reward. Her answer had an equally soft tone. “No, the chance of
benefit is slim and the risk is almost certain. The slave master
will, rightly, deny any knowledge, the king will apologize to the
Red Knight and we’ll all be put to death for nothing.”

Isabelle smiled, “Will they believe the slave
master? Who, the Red Knight? He will only have been here a few
hours. The king? The king sees plots against his reign everywhere
he looks, he even suspects the plants in his garden.”

“Why do you think he’s banned ‘plotted pants’ from
the palace?” Isabelle added, accentuating the P’s and adding the
king’s slight lisp.

Both Isabelle and Atheria chuckled at the reference
to the well-worn joke that’s told in the palace’s back rooms and
kitchens. As Isabelle had hoped, that did the trick and the tension
between them eased.

“Yes, the king is not the most honed tool in the
craftsman’s chest.” Atheria agreed as her tone once more turned
somber. “But the Red Knight is no oaf; we will still be put to
death.”

Isabelle took the teenager’s doubts seriously, “I
would agree, if you were to perform it any night hence, but tonight
the Red Knight will have nothing to base his judgment on and the
palace will be in disarray from his arrival. I don’t believe that
our people will suffer greatly as a whole from this, but I do
believe that it is the best opportunity since our fall to put a
crack in the wall that stands against our freedom.” Isabelle
paused. When she began again her voice was filled with sorrow. “I’m
afraid that the risk for this opportunity will be borne by you and
your sister and brother dancers.”

Atheria’s face was ashen, “If this is the will of
the Elders, then we will obey.”

Isabelle responded with determination, “No Atheria,
this must be our decision. A full meeting of the Elders cannot take
place for hours yet. If we wait until then, the opportunity will
have passed.”

“How can we do this without the other Elder’s
consent?” Atheria struggled.

Isabelle answered with a single word. “Time.”

No more was spoken, the two women so far apart in
age but equal in strength, returned to the hallway. Atheria became
dizzy and began to shake as the tension took its toll on her.
“Can we do this? Should we do this?”
She
questioned.

“Yes!”
With that one
thought, certainty replaced fear and her confidence surged. She
walked toward the boy’s sleeping room just as Simon and Brother
Joseph emerged. Brother Joseph directed Simon to join Atheria.

“You’re as white as a ghost.” Atheria noted, “If you
drop me tonight I’ll make sure you sing three octaves higher by
morning.”

Simon visibly relaxed, “You haven’t been quick
enough to get a good shot at me since your second year, keep
dreaming Sparkles.”

“Are you all right?” Atheria noticed fresh bruising
on Simon’s torso.

“I’m fine.” Simon winced a bit as he stretched but
didn’t want to dwell on his injuries. His focus was elsewhere. “The
Remembrance Dance? Are they serious?”

“It makes sense,” Atheria let Simon get a bit ahead
of her as they walked to see if his back needed attention,
“assuming we all don’t get beheaded in the next few days of
course.” Atheria’s attempt at gallows humor fell flat, even to her
own ears.

The doors to both sleeping rooms opened and they
were joined by their brother and sister dancers, eighty-two trained
performers that spanned the ages of twelve to eighteen headed for
the communal washroom and the start of their day. Even to the
youngest, they were not children, and never were.

III

Raphael’s legs were on fire, each time he felt
himself settle into a cruising gate he pressed harder to pick up
speed. The palace was little more than four miles from the harbor
but its placement on the city’s highest hill made it an uphill run
all the way.

With elevation came wealth. As he ran, the air
became cooler, the breeze stronger, and the buildings more opulent.
Better pavement urged Raphael to greater speed.
“The palace would have heard the message bells from the
harbor,”
he reminded himself,
“make up the
delay!”

He rounded the corner onto a straight stretch that
led to the outer palace gates. The avenue was called Ambassador’s
Row. It held a compound on either side, and while they were not to
the scale of the palace itself, the residences’ unique architecture
and extravagant luxury was the palace’s equal.

Raphael smiled at the irony. There hadn’t been an
ambassador on Ambassador’s Row since the fall of the Mindow
kingdom. There were no ambassadors because there were no other
kingdoms left. He passed the gold inlaid gates and kept his
attention ahead.

“Harbor message for the king’s ears first!” He tried
to shout as he reached the outer palace gate, but his voice was
mostly ragged breath. Whether from his announcement, or the
harbor’s bells, the gate’s inset door swung open as he approached
and he entered unchallenged. He then faced the last barrier, the
six tiers of gardens that surrounded the palace. Each garden tier
having its own winding boulevard that led to ascending steps. He
pressed on.

The beauty of the Garden Tiers renewed his strength.
“This is another Mindow legacy that the king
enjoys.”
He thought. As he ran each level he could see the
Mindow tenders and their looks of concern and encouragement. He put
aside his pain and concentrated on the stories of the gardens that
he had heard the tenders tell in the quarter. Each level’s design,
color, and plant types were chosen to portray a different concept
of growth in the human experience; the higher the tier, the more
lofty the concept.

As Raphael climbed the last set of stairs, the
palace seemed to rise from the top of the steps into a deep blue
sky of constantly changing clouds. The waning day’s vibrant pastels
painted the steps, palace, and clouds in hues of magenta and
orange. He had been here twice before but that did not diminish the
breathtaking impact of the sight before him.

The palace was unique. An asymmetrical collection of
domes, spires, and mock battlements played shape against shape,
each group growing taller as the eye moved inward and upward. The
overall effect was that of a miniature city growing ever skyward in
spiral motion.

The ten-foot tall doors elegantly inlaid with golden
spirals stood open with a palace guard to each side. A councilor
waited at the threshold. “Move, you lazy Mindow!” He shouted as
Raphael neared the entrance.

Raphael collapsed to his knees as he reached the
doorway. “On the harbor master’s authority, a message for the
king’s ears first.” He managed to say.

The councilor stood silent as he glared at the
runner with impatience and disgust. He then turned to one of the
guards, pointed to Raphael and said, “Bring that.” Without waiting
to see if his order was followed the councilor turned and entered
the palace.

Raphael felt a powerful hand grasp his tunic from
behind and was lifted sack like to his feet. “Move.” The guard said
simply. Thankfully, the guard took most of Raphael’s weight as they
proceeded. Suspended by the guard’s firm grip, Raphael entered the
palace proper for the first time.

His circumstances momentarily forgotten, Raphael
marveled at the magnificent entry hall. The simple elegance of the
seamless marble walls that lead to the ribbed dome above gave the
space a sense of soaring expanse. Pedestals offset from the curved
walls surrounded the circular room. He had been told of this room
and of a time when all the pedestals were filled with likenesses of
the greatest Mindow kings and queens.

Only about a third of the pedestals now held a bust,
and those were the line of the Far Lands King. He noted that the
craftsmanship of the current busts was not up to the standards of
the rest of the room. He hid the briefest of smiles, he had no
doubt that the Mindow busts would have been much greater works of
art than this sorry lot.

The councilor seemed to be leading them in circles,
which gave Raphael a chance to recover. Through galleries and
halls, each more beautiful than the last, Raphael marveled at the
wonder of it all. They ascended curved and circular staircases
beneath domed ceilings with soaring columns. Everywhere he looked
there were all types of incredible sculptures, artwork and frescos
lit by late day light that flooded in from everywhere and
nowhere.

They passed through an antechamber to emerge into
the largest hall yet. A circle of massive black stone columns
defined the central area and supported the dome overhead, as light
reflected up into the dome from its base to fill the central area
with soft illumination. The pastel colored floor was a sea of
subtle mauves and pinks. Inlaid into the central area of the floor
was a thin spiral of gold that lead to the circular dais. Atop the
dais, the marble throne held a well-clothed but rather frumpy man
who seemed bored with the dozen or so courtiers vying for his
attention.

“That seat looks really
uncomfortable.”
Raphael thought when he first saw the king
upon his throne.

Rafael had also heard of the magnificent seascape
painted on the throne room’s dome,
“Don’t look
up!”
He chided himself, but to no avail, he couldn’t resist.
He had a brief glimpse of the aquas and blues as he lifted his
head, then he felt the guard’s free hand glance the back of his
head. “Keep your head down or you’ll loose it.” The guard’s
whispered voice seemed more entreaty than command.

“Sire!” The counselor who had met Raphael shouted as
he pushed past the courtiers, “A message from the harbor master,
for your ears first.” Raphael could have sworn that he heard a note
of disdain as the counselor spoke the words, ‘for your ears first.’
The throng parted to leave Raphael isolated in front of the king as
he dangled from the guard’s hand.

“Stay on your knees and bow your forehead to the
floor before speaking.” The guard whispered.

Raphael obeyed. Once is forehead had touched the
floor he raised slightly and fulfilled his duty. “A message from
the harbor master for the king’s ears first. The Red Knight will
arrive at the harbor within the hour.” His task completed, Raphael
dared to glance up. He wanted to see what response his words had
elicited. The looks on their faces left Raphael with a single
thought,
“It
’s too bad
that people can’t actually die of fright.”

It was a moment before the councilor broke the
silence, “I will convene the council Sire.” He then addressed the
shocked courtiers, “The rest of you go to your duties. I warn each
of you to keep your tongues from wagging or I will personally
remove them.” He then raised a hand and pointed to Raphael. “That
thing was slow, take it to the slave master and have it put to
death. Have it be known among the other slaves.”

Raphael’s world collapsed, his mind retreated as he
felt himself recede from his body.
“I knew the
price I would pay.”
He heard the distant echo of a thought
from within,
“It was worth it.”
In some
distant dream like way, he felt the guard lift him completely from
the floor and carry him out.

Raphael turned inward to emptiness, he found himself
separate from his body and the world around him. He neither
noticed, nor cared, when the guard stopped to speak with his fellow
guard. “I am on an errand for the High Councilor, please inform the
Master at Arms that I will be absent until further notice.” The
guard then proceeded toward the garden tiers carrying the lifeless
bundle that was Raphael.

As soon as the guard had descended the first set of
stairs to the Sixth Tier garden, he approached a Mindow tender,
“Come with me.” The guard said and the three proceeded to an
isolated area out of general sight.