Treachery of Kings

TWENTY

" It would be my guess,” Finn said to Letitia, as they followed Dostagio down the long hallway, “that these will not prove to be the jolliest folk we've ever met. When the decorator color is black, one cannot expect the circus to appear.”

“It is certainly not inviting,” Letitia agreed. “And I am getting a chill, dear. I wish I had a wrap of some kind.”

“It isn't cold in here, it's really quite warm. You're likely just affected by the somber atmosphere.”

“I am cold, Finn. Please don't tell me how I feel. This is one of your most irritating habits, dear. I believe I have mentioned it before.”

Finn was taken aback by Letitia's sudden show of discontent. Nerves, likely, reaction to the day's quite troublesome events. Still, he had the good sense to keep this opinion to himself.

“I'm dreadfully sorry, Letitia, I meant no offense. You would surely know if you're cold or hot. Here, allow me to put my cape around your shoulders. That will take the chill away.”

“You can't. Julia's under there.”

“Damn. I quite forgot.”

“It's all right. I'll be just fine.”

She wrapped her arms about herself and walked on in silence down the gloomy hall, trembling now and then. Finn felt as if he'd failed her somehow, and didn't know how to make amends.

Indeed, the atmosphere in this dreary place was enough to cause a chill. Gaudy, garish, daring decor were not the proper words for the dark granite floors, the drab, cyclopean walls. Faintly glowing torches, set in iron brackets, appeared now and then, but did little to lessen the pall, for the lusterless stone drank the very soul from every errant beam of light.

Finn tried to remember the many twists and turns of this cheerless maze, but soon was completely lost. Even their guide, Dostagio, added to the task of guessing true perspective, for he was clothed in black from head to toe, and often simply disappeared ahead.

When, at last, the fellow began to slow his pace, Finn had the feeling they might be back to the outer door where they'd begun.

“Your quarters are just ahead,” Dostagio announced. “We don't have many guests at this time, so I am putting you in the Chamber of Celestial Bliss.”

“Oh, that sounds very nice,” Letitia said. “Do you think there might be blankets in there?”

Dostagio appeared not to hear. “There are four hundred twenty-two sleeping quarters in the palace,” he announced. “I am not counting the Royal Wings, of course.”

“No, of course.” Finn wondered when the fellow would actually stop, for they had passed a good dozen dark and unadorned portals now.

“Four hundred twenty-two,” Letitia said, in a hapless effort to keep herself warm. “Imagine that.”

“That's a great many rooms.”

“It is,” Letitia said.

“And our quarters are called… “

“…The Chamber of Celestial Bliss,” Letitia finished. “That could be-interesting, Finn.” In spite of her discomfort, she managed a mischievous grin.

Maybe there will be blankets, Finn thought, delighted at her smile. Big, heavy quilts we can burrow under and generate heat among ourselves.

“We are here, then,” Dostagio said, stopping before a door indistinguishable from the rest. “Just let me find the key. It fits every room, which makes it quite easy on everyone, guests and servants as well.”

“Yes, it would,” Finn agreed. “Can you tell us, sir, when we might be able to see the King? Early is fine, if that's the custom here. Though later is satisfactory as well.”

“Later, I should think.”

“Good. Very well, then,” Finn said, thankful for extra hours of sleep. “So you would say-when?”

“Seven months, I believe. Seven months and three days.”

“What?” Finn stared. “I'm certain I didn't hear you right at all.”

“Yes, sir, I'm sure you did, Master Finn.”

The First Servant paused, as if in thought, then gazed at Finn again. “May I ask your religious persuasion, sir? If I seem impertinent, bear with me if you will.”

“Crafters Tabernacle, now. Though I was raised in First Hammer and Vise. Why do you ask?”

“You are a stranger in this land, sir, and it occurred to me you might be unfamiliar with our beliefs. His Grace and the Royal Family practice the rites of the Deeply Entombed. Toomers, as the common folk say, but I would never repeat that to the King.”

“Toomers. I'm sure I never-”

“Clearly you haven't, sir, or you would not have appeared to be astonished when I mentioned it would be some time before you could expect to see the King.

“I realize, now, you thought you would see him tomorrow, which is absurd, of course, no offense, Master Finn.”

“I will freeze in my very tracks in the next minute and a half,” Letitia said, “if you don't get me out of here.”

“Yes, well, I will. No question of that. We cannot sim-ply-Sir, if you would just explain to His Majesty that while I do not wish to intrude upon his spiritual life, I will only require a moment of his time to present my gift. Then we'll be out of your hair, as they say, and on our way. All right? Can you tell him that?”

“I could, but of course I will do no such thing. The Deeply Entombed, as the words connote, are deeply entombed, sir. The name is derived from the practice. Just as hastily attached conjures a picture of something quickly added to, or hurriedly affixed.

“The Deeply Entombed show their devotion through sleep, quite a bit of sleep, as it were. This sleep is accomplished in the grave, for those who rule the Afterworld count these hours as ‘dead time,’ and thus grant their devotees a seventh of that time as bonus days in this life.

“Do you understand, now, sir? If there are any further questions, I shall answer them if I can.”

“Seven months? These people are sleeping for seven months?”

“No, sir. Nine months, to be precise. But they will awaken again in seven months and three days. As I believe I mentioned before.

“This gift you bring. May I ask if it is topical, timely, in any way?”

“Timely, in a way. But not really, I suppose.”

“Is it likely to spoil?”

“No. There is no way it could spoil. However-”

“Excellent, sir. Then we don't have a problem, do we? I shall do my best to make your stay at court a pleasant one. And you as well, Miss.”

“Thank you, but I don't think so,” Letitia said. “I can't possibly stay in this place, and neither can Master Finn. Finn, there is nothing else to talk about, as far as I can see. This is absolutely insane.”

“I know, Letitia… “

“So give him the birthday present and let's take our leave. Thank the dear man and ask him where we can find a nice inn somewhere. An inn with a fire.”

“Yes, that's certainly the thing to do.”

Finn looked past Dostagio, down the long and lonely hall, feeling a chill and a slightly dank breeze himself. Still, he was quite aware of the aches of the day, the growing fatigue that threatened to drag him down. And, one more glance at the drawn, weary posture of Letitia Louise convinced him the choices here were not as clear as they seemed.

“I know it's best we leave, Letitia. On the other hand, if we could simply stay over here, since that's where we are. Stay and try to get some sleep-”

“No. Don't even think about it, Finn.”

“-and get an early start,” Finn finished quickly. “I'll seek out Bucerius and urge him to find us another balloon. I don't think Aghen Aghenfleck, in spite of his lack of any reason at all, would expect us to stay in Heldessia seven months.”

“Seven months and three days, sir,” Dostagio corrected.

“Yes, of course.”

“I don't like it, Finn. I don't like it at all.”

“Nor do I. But it has to be two or three in the morning, dear, maybe more. We have no idea where we are, and we don't know if those damnable yappers are gone.”

Before Letitia could answer, Finn turned on Dostagio again. “If it's not personal, may I ask, would we find all the citizens asleep in town? I mean, is everyone in Heldessia a member of this-Deeply Enwombed church of yours?”

“Entombed, sir. Deeply Entombed.”

“Right. Well, are they?”

“Oh no, sir. It's not for the common folk. Or Newlie kind, if you'll forgive me, Miss.”

“Believe me. I am not offended at all.”

“Only royalty, then?” Finn asked.

“That is correct, sir.”

“It's not your religious persuasion, then.”

“Oh, no indeed, sir.” Despite the fact that no sign of emotion had crossed his drab features, Finn felt the man was quite stunned by the question. “Despite my esteemed and honorable position, I am only a servant here, a member of the Gracious Dead… “