Infinite Blue Heaven - A King and A Queen (34 page)

“I surely will. To your health Kospan. And to that of everybody else!” All the folk in the corridor shouted their approval and downed whatever they had, or could get hold of.

I had only intended to have one goblet full but a pile of silk cushions were brought and I found myself comfortably reclined, listening to the tales of others and holding all in thrall, as I told of the War

Time passed and soon I felt unwilling to stand. I would have quite happily fallen asleep there, eventually, after some meat, some more wine and a few good tales but some thin waif of a thought snatched at the very back of my conscious mind. I kept trying to dismiss it but it held on. When, finally, half the host were silent, with sleep, or drowsy thought, I brought it gently into the open and examined it. Yes, indeed, I should check on Shakira. The Palace was no longer a safe place and I was concerned for her. It would also save me from certain risk if I slept here. After an effort, I rose, unsteadily. Ahmed, second cousin to Kospan, his turban half covering his eyes, clung to my sleeve and I had to half pick him up too.

“No. Don’t go. We want more stories.”

I jerked my sleeve free. “In a few minutes you will be asleep, friend. I must go.”

“But where can you go?”

“The Princess.”

“Ahh. Yes the Princess.” Then his eye was closed and he was silent, cradling a jug of wine.

I started off down the corridor, turning right and crashing into the oak door at the entrance to our Private Chambers. Where was Gregor? I looked but could hardly see. I had to actually circumnavigate the huge old table in the middle of the room, before I found him asleep in front of the hearth, Bear resting his huge head on his master’s lap. I leaned down to pat the great dog’s head and nearly fell over. He started at the noise and recognising me, whimpered in his friendly way. The old dog looked troubled though, somehow, sad.

I straightened up, murmuring to myself, ‘Madness in the Palace’ and went back to the door. I had to push it open and nearly slipped on the red stain on the polished floor.

I had nearly reached the door to Shakira’s chamber when I saw something heaped against my own door. Naturally I was curious and went over to it. I shall never forget what I saw.

It was Geb-Gaban. There was blood everywhere; the red that I had slipped on had not been wine but his blood. It led in a smeared trail back to the door. My first thought was that he must be dead.

“Geb. Geb! Are you alive? What has happened?” I found that I wanted to shake him, I was so angry, as if somehow he were to blame, and if I shook him hard enough he would wake up and all would be alright. His eyes opened and his mouth moved but no intelligible sound came out.

“Ph God! What have they
done
?” I looked down to his wounds and could see that both of his hands had been hacked off. The stumps had been crudely cauterised by fire so that he would not die immediately. But he surely would die. He opened his mouth and grinned at me. I could see blood gurgling out of his mouth but I could also see that he had no tongue.

“The Bastards! I will kill them. I will kill every last one so painfully they will wish they had never been born.”

“Wait here. I’ll get help. I’ll come back. Oh God Geb. Hold on.” I ran to the great table and grabbed a long knife, which I then used to cut the cord which tied his ankles. I then paused, half standing as a thought filled my mind. ‘Cut yourself.’ It was true, I was drunk and even the adrenalin now coursing through my veins was not enough to help me. I hesitated for a moment before cutting a long red line in my wrist. I barely felt the pain but the blood dripped in a ragged line from my arm. I dropped the knife and stumbled to the corridor, shouting for Guards. I cursed the intelligence which once again had me deep in its grip. What fiendishly evil intelligence was it that could trap me so completely? It was a cruel intelligence that would do this to Geb and on a night when help would be hard to find. I could not find one sober Guard, barely any were even awake. I half slid down the narrow winding staircase which lead to the servant’s quarters and old Igor’s room, the old man had served as the Palace surgeon in recent times. He had been an army surgeon in his youth but now he was just a drunk old man even on a normal day. By good fortune, he was there, although his head rested on the table next to a large wooden flagon of wine. I leaned on the table, close to his head and gently held his head up. “Igor, wake up. You must wake up.” Now the extra adrenalin from the cut and my anger combined to lead me to near sobriety and some coherent thoughts. I shouted at him.

“Igor. Wake up now!”

“Huh?”

I slapped him hard on both cheeks. The red in his bleary eyes, as they opened, matched the rosettes appearing on his cheeks. He tried to focus on me but failed. He squinted and pulled back.

“It’s me, Vaslav.”

“King Vaslav?”

“Yes. It’s me. There are terrible things going on. You’ve got to wake up. I need you to operate.”

He laughed. “Operate? Now? Son you are mad! I am drunk. Drunk as a King! There was a party. I am sure there was. It was great. All the maids were drunk too and I danced with Olga! D’ya know Olga. I felt her breasts. But I’m not supposed to talk to you!”

“What am I? The Devil?” He started rambling and I shook him. “Where’s the coffee Igor?” The main kitchen was through a door on the other side of his apartment and I knew he could tell me where to find some coffee.

“Oh I don’t know, on the main bench on this wall to the right of the door. In a black pot, marked sorrel.”

I opened the door into the great kitchen and found the pot. It smelled like coffee. I hunted for, and eventually found, a pot of lukewarm water and made him drink three full mugs of thick treacly coffee.

After a long search to find his, long-unused, instruments, we set off at a lurch, back towards Geb-Gaban. I used all the back corridors, trying to avoid any of the Enemy. The Enemy! In my Palace! What had things come to?

My heart was racing and I was having to talk myself into calming down. It had all taken too long and I was sure Geb would be dead.

We turned the last corner and I looked nervously at him as we approached. I lifted his head and there was a very faint moan.

I looked round and up at Igor. The old man’s mouth was open and he was frozen to the spot. I had to stand up and shake him.

“Igor! Igor! This man will die if you don’t help him. Do what you can. Do you need me for anything? I cannot stay long.”

“He’s dead anyway, Sire.”

Shaking, Igor crouched down, dropping his bag of instruments and started feeling Geb around his wounds. “Wait a minute! Wait! Let me see.”

Remarkably professional, he made an assessment of his condition and shook his head.

“Go Sire. There is nothing you can help me with here. I will use fire from your hearth to cauterise his tongue. With luck, he may live. Go!”

I stood thinking for just an instant. I had to have help and I knew some of the Guards would be faithful to me. Even better would be soldiers. I had to get to the barracks.

I stood and turned but at that moment I heard the sound of many feet approaching and the tiny unmistakable sounds which armour and weapons make when soldiers try to move quietly.

I ran back to my Chambers and crashing through the doors I passed our bedroom, shouting Shakira’s name as I ran. As I suspected, she was not there. I carried on to the secret exit and on, down to the rear of the Palace and the stables. Reaching them without incident, I ran around the Palace towards the barracks and saw two guards talking in the gloom. I stopped to listen to them. I sucked the blood from my wrist, which now throbbed with a dull pain.

“It’s a bad business and I don’t like it! I am not one of Bulya’s minions and neither are you! We’ve served the King all our lives and he’s looked after us. You know he has!”

“No he ain’t. Our pay is the same as it has been for three years now. It’s not enough! My farm is on crap land too! What with that and the old girl pregnant with her third, I need more money! But does anybody listen? No! I say let’s go with he who looks after us best.”

“You mean he who pays best! Huh. I don’t know what’s got into you, Seb.”

Here was a good opportunity for me. One I could not trust but the other I could. How could I separate them? For a moment, I considered killing the one but they were also friends and the other would hate me for it. I crept a sachine further away and stood up, as I judged, on the edge of their vision. I had seen that the loyal one was a Corporal, by the colour of his plume on his dress uniform.

I called out, “Corporal?”

The man I wanted, spun to face me and saluted. “Yes. Sir.” There was a pause between the first and second word and an uncertain note in the second.

“Come here a moment. I wish to speak to you.”

He hesitated.

“Obey me!”

He came and I turned to walk away, saying, “Come with me.”

He fell in beside me. I turned to check the other wasn’t following. I kept my face hidden from the Corporal until I was sure we were out of earshot of the other. Then I let him know my identity.

“Sire! I worried that you were dead! There is a most dreadful revolution – yes that is what it is, revolution, going on!”

“I know. I have been slow to realise it but now we must act. Which General is most loyal to me? I could guess myself but I need you to tell me. Upon this choice would hinge success or failure.”

“Both Lord Abutalip and Lord Sabitzan are loyal to you but Sabitzan is visiting his wife, or some say the Brothels, in the City. You will not find him in a hurry.”

“Alright then. Take me to Abutalip.”

We reached Abutalip’s office and sure enough he was there, reading and quietly drinking a glass of red wine with a sleeping girl naked beside him on his bed. He sprang up to salute, looking slightly ashamed.

“Sire!” With only a slight hesitation, he launched into an angry speech. “I am not happy with the situation here Sire! What is going on? Who is in command? You or Kospan?”
“Kospan? In charge? What has been going on?”

“Late this afternoon I heard that you had been taken ill, nothing serious. ‘Flu and exhaustion,’ they said and that Lord Kospan had ordered a party for everybody this evening. That every soldier should stand down and drink and eat as much as he liked! At first I thought it strange but I must admit, I am weary and some relaxation seemed like a good idea.”

“Then, just as my men and I started to get fair drunk, as you might say, a rumour started going around that you had left the Palace and that Lord Kospan was now in command.”

“This was when I started to think something was wrong. I spoke to some of the men, the most loyal, and we agreed that we should go to our rooms and remain vigilant. Since then I have been waiting here, to see what would happen. I was ready to fight for you, Sire, if anything had happened. I was starting to fear the worst. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Our forces are at their weakest and the men all tired. Now would be the best time to launch a coup.”

I reached for a leg of lamb and bit into it, considering things.

“Yes. I should have seen it coming. Anyway, now we have work to do. Corporal, what is your name?”

“Olotov, Sire”

“Alright. Let the General here instruct you what men, the loyal ones, to collect and bring them here.”

He was gone in in a few moments. I looked at Abutalip’s shiny head.

“Abutalip. Now we must act! But we must be so careful. Oh yes so very careful. I see the double trap that Bulya has prepared for me. We must restore order and control in the Palace but we cannot afford to kill too many soldiers. Bulya still, I hear, has an Army somewhere and if he survives and attacks, we will need all the men we have. And yet how can we restore order without fighting? And how can I let them serve me, who are traitors. I must think!” I paced about, eating to regain strength, while Abutalip slowly dressed and tried to sober up.

“Yes! Yes. I have it! How many men can we trust Abutalip?”

“Hmm. About half, perhaps one thousand Sire. But many men have left the Barracks, they went as soon as they heard Kospan’s orders. I would guess maybe one thousand remain and of those, perhaps five hundred are loyal, only two hundred are known to me. I would guess most of the Palace Guards are loyal too.”

Yes. I think we should only take men we know are loyal. When these men return, we will go into the Barracks and you will quietly pick the most loyal me. The rest, we will lock in, using the Palace Guard, and then we will retake the Palace. I will have to assume all the men in the Palace, whether Palace Guard or Soldier, is a traitor. Later we will find out the truth.

Within a few more minutes, Olotov returned and, putting on some armour he had brought for me, we set off for the Palace Guard quarters.

“You look like a fine young soldier, Sire!” said Abutalip.

I cuffed him gently. “How did I let this happen, Abutalip?”

“It is a low mind that would conceive of this, Sire. You had no need to expect it.”

“You are right. We were silent until we reached the door of the Palace Guard quarters.”

“Men. Dress for war and come with me!” Some were certainly drunk and a few women there were gathering sheets around them but within a quarter of an hour we left, ten Guards to each door of the Barracks.