Treachery of Kings

TWENTY-FIVE

From Finn's perch below, the battle raging in the heights seemed a blur of great confusion, chaos, awesome disarray. There was no way to sort intruder from defender, no way to gain true dimension of the dying and the dead. From this poor perspective, there was only a flat, muddied canvas of devastation, a clatter, a frenzy, a horrid bloody stew.

And, to further distort this grisly quarrel, much of the action was lost in the blinding sheets of rain that lashed through the cratered dome of glass.

Still, after a moment, after the shock of this bold invasion had passed, he could see there was indeed a kind of pattern and intent, that the Bowser attack had some sort of structure after all. It was clear that more than one set of lines descended to the royal dining pad. After an initial assault to the right, which drew the defenders to the fray, another horde of yappers slid down from the left.

The Badgies saw this danger at once and rushed troopers into the seething mass, determined to upset the Bowser plan.

“Amazing, if you think about it,” Finn shouted over the din, guiding Letitia quickly under the table, away from flying debris.

“Bowsers, as a rule, have little use for method or direction. Disorder is usually the manner of the day. A two-pronged offense is something to see.”

“Who cares, Finn? I'm going to die down here when one of those idiots falls on me!”

“I'd say the odds are against it,” Finn said, though a Bowser's boater and his musket had just tumbled by, followed by a liveried servant of the King. “Really, these tables seem extremely sturdy to me.”

It wasn't the answer Letitia cared to hear, and she let Finn know it with a look that said “that's two, dear, don't try for three.”

Though this was not at all the time to show it, Finn was entranced, delighted by the careless, disheveled appearance of Letitia Louise. Huddled so close, pressed against her now, he was keenly aware of the blush of pink flesh beneath her fine, downy features, by her tiny lips and pointy nose, by her dark, enormous eyes, now deeper, larger still.

This rush of desire, he knew, was born of fear and apprehension, but no less real for all of that, and he longed to repeat these feelings in calmer times.

Just at that moment, something shattered against the alabaster column that held their dining pad aloft, something large enough to shake the table and rattle the dishes overhead.

Letitia covered her mouth and stared. Julia bounced once and turned over on her side.

“Now this isn't good,” Finn said. “This may not be the safest place to be.”

“You always go right to the heart of things,” Julia said, flipping herself aright again. “I admire that in you, Finn.”

Finn didn't answer. Instead, he lifted the white tablecloth in time to see that the King's Third Sentient Guards were still driving fiercely into the yapper foes, steadily pushing them back, away from the lofty royal pad. Colonel/Sergeant Koodigern was likely in the midst of the battle, though Finn couldn't possibly single him out this far away.

“Our best bet's the bridge,” Finn told Letitia, clutching her hand in his. “Julia, up on my back. No use taking chances out there.”

“If you fall, you'd like to be certain that I go too…”

“Exactly. No need for you to survive without me. Stop gabbing and do as you're told.”

“I don't like it,” Letitia said. “It's narrow, and it's swinging, Finn.”

“It always swings. That's the nature of the thing, it's supposed to do-Watch it, stay back!”

A cart of desserts tumbled by, trailing curds, compotes, pastries and puffs. Tarts, tortes, crullers and pies, puddings of every sort. And, still clasping his enormous cook's hat to his head, the hapless chef himself. For an instant, as he passed, he caught Finn's eye, and seemed to say he understood his plight, that it came as no surprise.

“I'm going to be sick, Finn.”

“Don't watch him, Letitia. Don't look at anything, stay close to me!”

A veil of rain whispered by, diluted by the fall. Finn made his way to the edge of the pad, Letitia in tow, his package secure beneath his arm. Julia's claws dug into his flesh, but there was little he could do about it now.

The bridge swayed and trembled, somewhat worse than ever, it seemed. Finn took a cautious step forward, placed one boot on the thing, and turned to Letitia Louise.

“Easy now, go very slowly. This may look flimsy, but everything in this dome was carefully engineered by masters of their trade. I expect these suspensions have been in service for quite some time. Once we get to the outer wall, we'll be fine, secure as a-”

Finn's words were lost as the bridge literally exploded in the very center of the span. Two bodies, hurtling from different angles, met, like ill-fated comets, with a most revolting sound, then tumbled like a single horror toward the ground. There was nothing left of the bridge, not a plank, not a strand.

“The odds of two masses, meeting precisely like that, are not all that great,” Finn said, unable to take his eyes from the sight.

“I think I could work it out if I had the math,” Julia said.

“It would take some time.”

“Indeed it would.”

“Finn… “

“What, love?”

“If you two would cease your chatter, you'd notice it has grown quite still in here. It's over, I believe. They're done. Will you excuse me, please?”

Letitia turned away, knelt under the table and retched.

For once, Finn wisely pretended nothing had happened at all.

“It didn't slow down,” he said when she returned, “didn't grind to a halt. It simply-stopped.” “I believe I mentioned that.” “Yes, indeed you did.”

In a sense, he felt that the sudden silence was a sound unto itself. A ghostly echo, a distant refrain that rose up out of the clamor and the din, out of the babble and the clash of only moments before.

He reached out then, to bring Letitia close. She didn't hesitate, but came into his arms.

“I hope we won,” she said. “I hope it came out all right.”

“Yes, for everyone except those damned yappers in their awful straw hats. I can have no feeling for them. I regret my suggestion, Letitia. I don't like to think how close we came to crossing that bridge.”

“We didn't though. Don't think about it, dear.”

“I could work out the math,” Julia muttered to herself, “but I doubt you'd care to hear… “