Treachery of Kings

THIRTY-FIVE

The truth of this scam, this trickery of the King, struck Finn like a blow, near took his breath away. Here was the clever monarch's cunning, his sly and hateful deceit. Here was the reason Llowenkeef-Grymm had stopped him, moments before he was free of the place for good.

The King had not tossed his present aside, as Finn had prayed he'd do. This mad collector of clocks had torn into the bundle and found the ugly item inside. And, in a fit of fury, in a moment of rage, he had planned this moment of dread disclosure for the man who had dared bring this artless, base, vulgar piece of rubbish into his land…

“We're in for it now,” Julia said. “I would like to say, our acquaintance has been a partial delight.”

“He's not going to kill us. He just wants to flog us a bit. Just keep your snout shut, I'll handle this.”

“Master Finn…”The King looked at him with a grave, thoughtful look in his noble eyes.

“You have said this gift comes to me from Aghen Aghenfleck the Fourth?”

“Sire… “

“And, though you've not said it, I'd guess you made this artifact yourself?”

“I did, Your Grace. And if I might say a word here…”

“No, you may not! It is bad manners, Finn, and blasphemy second class, to interrupt me.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Come here. Do it now.”

“Oh, Finn,” Letitia said beneath her breath.

Finn stood straight, though he feared his legs might collapse.

“In all fairness, Finn, you should know I have taken into consideration the fact that your, ah-Prince, ordered you to craft this piece.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“It is magnificent, Finn.”

“I regret, sire, that-what?”

“A masterpiece, a thing of wonder, glorious in its artifice and design. I have seen clocks without number, clocks from the immortal crafters of the East, clocks from the tiny folk who are said to live beneath the sea, and have fins instead of knees. Frankly, I have my doubts about that.

“At any rate, none of these, Finn, are worthy of an artist such as you.”

“He likes this piece of crap?”

“Hush, Julia,” Letitia whispered. “The man's a connoisseur.”

“I would deem it a favor to a grateful king, if you would show me how it works.”

“Now, sire?”

“What did I say, boy? Now, indeed.”

The King clapped his hands in pleasure, a signal to the watchful crowd that they should openly admire, with speech and gesture, this man who pleased the King.

“It's really quite simple, sire.”

Finn moved to the golden cart, a bold new note of confidence in his voice.

“The timepiece itself is embedded in the belly of the lizard. Rampant, as it were, upon its hind legs, its forelegs raised in what I like to call a, ah-whimsical salute.”

“Whimsical, yes. The very word, I feel.”

“The tail, which is gilded with golden scales, serves as the pendulum of the clock. I release this small locking device and-so, the tail begins to swing.”

“I am beside myself, Finn. I never expected as much. Who would have dreamed of having the tail itself swing?”

“He did,” Julia muttered to herself, “not me.”

“Now, sire, there is another function here. I release another switch… “

The King gave such a shrill cry of delight, Finn feared he might have shed his mortal form.

“The eyes-the eyes move back and forth as well!”

“It's a small thing, sire.”

“Small? Genius, I should say, for it has never been done before in the history of clocks.”

He turned to Finn, and Finn was near certain there were tears in the fellow's eyes.

“The honor of creation is yours. The honor of owning this wonder is mine. You have made yourself immortal in clockdom, Finn.”

“Well, hardly, sire.”

“Did I say immortal, boy?”

“Sire, I believe you did.”

“To say otherwise is to contradict the King.”

“I know he didn't mean that,” Letitia said. “He's good with his hands, but he's not real proficient with the spoken word, sire.”

“He's not,” Julia said. “I can vouch for that.”

“Indeed?” The King raised a curious brow. “Never taken a lizard's vouch before. I suppose it's all right. At any rate-You”-he waved at anyone at all-”you will proceed with this now.”

Two servants, plainly clad in the drab uniform of the Gracious Dead, came quickly and offered the King a velvet box. The box was clearly quite heavy, for it took the pair to set it down.

“Now, both of you, get the thing out here, what do you think I hire you for?”

The two servants lifted. And, it was indeed weighty, for they breathed hard, and the veins stood out upon their brows.

“Your Grace!” Finn was astonished, truly speechless for a time. Letitia muttered something in the Mycer tongue, which she rarely did at all.

The thing that arose from the box was a chain, a golden chain, with links Finn was sure would anchor a ship of good size. Each of these monstrous links was encrusted with gems of every sort-rubies, sapphires, diamonds and such-many gems that Finn couldn't name.

At the end of this chain was a resplendent circle of gold. A large green stone lay at its center, and small diamonds cluttered about the edge.

“Seems a bit heavy,” said the King. “I expect these fellows would be grateful if you bent for just a moment, to allow them to get it on.”

Finn did as he was told. With a great deal of heavy breathing, and fussing about, the men wrested the loop over Finn's broad shoulders. Julia leaped into Letitia's lap not a moment too soon.

Finn gasped, and caught himself before he fell to his knees. The King began to clap again, and the crowd began to cheer. Finn tried not to stagger, made a great effort not to sag. The thing surely weighed a good eighty pounds, and came down to his knees.

“Looks good on you, Finn.” The King stepped back and grinned.

“I am overwhelmed, sire.”

“I shouldn't wonder. That's a Ninety-Fifth Degree decoration you're wearing there. We only go to ninety-six. Here. You need to read it. It's hand engraved, you know.”

With some degree of effort, Finn lifted the great pen dant that hung below his knees. It read, in florid script, enameled in lilac and blue:

THE HUMAN PERSON NAMED FINN IS HEREBY GRANTED THE TITLE OF GRAND

MASTER OF MECHANICAL OBJECTS, GEARS AND VARIOUS PARTS, AN HONOR OF THE

NINETY-FIFTH ORDER, BY COMMAND OF MYSELF, LLOWENKEEF-GRYMM, KING OF HELDESSIA LAND

“I am honored,” Finn said. “I scarcely know what to say.”

“Words won't suffice, I shouldn't think,” the King said, rising from his gilded chair. “Here, come with me. You too, Miss, and lizard, as well.”

Without another word, Llowenkeef-Grymm stalked across the Great Hall, scattering courtiers aside.

Finn looked at Letitia, and Letitia looked back. Neither, with the slightest idea of what might be coming next.

Finn gathered the loops of his fine decoration and kept up as well as he could. The King didn't pause until he reached a small, arched door, set neatly within the wall.

“The family doesn't take part in these events. Isn't good for those louts to see too many royals at a time. A lot of them faint. We had a fellow die.”

“I can see that,” Finn said.

“You keep saying that, you'll stir up my ire, Finn. You couldn't possibly comprehend even half of what I'm saying, don't pretend you can.”

“I certainly won't, sire.”

Llowenkeef-Grymm waved him off, clearly annoyed, a mood which seemed to strike him at any given time.

“At any rate, you'll get to meet the royals. We'll all be dead again soon, so there isn't much time.”

Finn started to speak, but Letitia shook her head in warning.

The King threw open the door, then, and Finn suddenly understood. He didn't have to count. He knew there'd be ten, plus the King himself. Eleven. Minus one, and he was thankful for that. Still, nearly the entire congregation of the Deeply Entombed. The only true believers in the world, and they were all gathered here. Each and every one in the rags, snags, tatters and snips, bound, wrapped, happily trapped in the drear and dusty shrouds of the fashionable dead.

Huddled together, they appeared to be a great dust bunny, swept from under a giant's untidy bed. Finn met them all, overweight uncles and undersized aunts, nieces, nephews, beady-eyed cousins, and two old men who shared the same shroud. Finn hoped they weren't joined in some horrid manner, and didn't want to ask.

Then, when all was done, Finn breathed a great sigh of relief, grateful again that the one royal member he dreaded to see had failed to appear. He could clearly see every smudgy feature, every sooty nose, and she clearly wasn't there. Count all you like and there were still only ten “You must forgive me, Father dear, for I had a hundred tiresome little chores. There's no rest for a princess of the realm, I cannot call my life my own… “

She stopped, halfway from the door across the room, paused, hesitated, tarried in a manner, then realigned her bodily parts in a posture that was likely illegal somewhere, bit her saucy lip and blinked at Finn.

“Finn, you sweet man, what a marvelous surprise, I had no idea we'd be together again so soon!”

Finn's prayer to die failed. The earth didn't part and swallow him up. Indeed, nothing seemed to work at all. Instead, Fate flung DeFloraine-Marie into his arms, where she pressed herself against him in a most indecent manner, kissed him on the mouth, pushed him away, and smiled at Letitia Louise.

“I'm glad we could finally meet. Finn has said so much about you. I think Mycer girls are prettier than any of your kind. I'm DeFloraine-Marie, Princess of Heldessia Land. My mother's in the Afterworld, but Father's such a dear. Do make Finn take off that terrible chain before he holds you again. I expect it left bruises everywhere on me.”

“Finn. I need to talk to you.”

He didn't look at Letitia, he didn't have to. “You really don't, my dear. It only seems like you do, and I quite understand how things might appear when they're actually not as they seem at all.”

“I'm relieved to hear that, Finn.”

“Well, then,” said the King, somewhat puzzled by this display. “So you and Master Finn have met, my dear?”

“Oh, we have, Father.”

How can she possibly look so lovely in a garment made of lint?

“We'll be having refreshments, now,” said the King. “Black ale and sogcake, you know. We shall all be returning to the dead persuasion after this, and we usually have a little snack.”

“Thank you, sire, but I feel Letitia and I-”

“Oh, no, you can't have any, boy. This stuff's sanctified. Just thought you'd like to watch.”

“Do stay, Finn.” DeFloraine hung on her father's arm, looking limp and lazy-eyed. “And the Newlie too. She would enjoy it as well.”

“How very kind,” Letitia said. “I feel it would be too exciting for me. Finn? I'm leaving. Do as you please.”

She turned and was gone, Julia rattling in her wake.

Finn was sure he heard thunder in her path. “If I may, sire. I'll leave you and your family to your personal rites. I trust you will all have a, ah-most enjoyable burial, passing, confinement, whatever you desire, and I trust I am not committing any breach of manners if I wish you a pleasant demise.”

“Your intentions are likely good, but your sentiments are disgusting, Finn. Blasphemy, desecration, it's downhill from there.

“You make a damn fine clock, sir, I have to say that. Why, I could watch those little eyes go back and forth all day. You didn't molest, abuse, debase or defile my daughter in any way, did you, Finn? Any nonsense like that?”

“Sire, certainly not! Who could imagine such a thing?”

“Just about anyone, I'd say. Don't ever do it. I won't put up with that.”

“No, sire.”

Though Finn betrayed no emotion, he feared he was not out of danger yet. One lie from DeFloraine-Marie and his head would be on a pike atop the palace walls. Royals could turn on you, just like that. A king and a prince didn't have to think twice.

After the somber celebration of the dead, the party in the Great Hall of Tedious Favors and Petitions seemed riotous at best.

Try as he could, he couldn't spot Letitia in the crowd. If she was there, she was caught in a dizzy swirl of crimson, flush, blush and maroon.

Working his way through the colorful crowd, he was hit several times by a flailing arm or an errant foot. At first, he thought this horde of counselors, lords, ladies and loons had been struck by some collective fit. Some seizure or violent distress.

Then, upon reflection, he began to see the cause. The agonized limbs, the cruelly twisted joints, were essential parts of a local dance. All these contortions were in and out of step with an octet in the corner, the same young lads who couldn't play trumpets were now playing other instruments they couldn't play as well.

She's angry, for sure, no doubt about that. But so irate she would flee into a bedlam like this?

“No,” he said aloud, “not Letitia Louise. Noise, chaos, total disarray, turns her keen Mycer senses into mush. She would never linger in a place like this.

“But where is she now? Could she find her way through the halls alone?”

“She's quite safe and sound,” Julia said, guessing Finn's thoughts, suddenly appearing out of nowhere at all.

“Dostagio took her to our quarters. The ones we vacated on our way out of here.”

“We're still vacating, Julia. I'm sorry she's angry, but I am not at fault in this matter, and this is not the time to let personal matters stand in our way.”

“I hope you can relay all this as easily to her, Finn. She got a good look at DeFloraine-Marie.”

“The princess is quite attractive, you don't have to tell me that.”

“Attractive, you say?” Julia laughed, a sharp and rusty chuckle like iron filings with the flu.

“The creature's not attractive, Finn. She's a snare, she's a trap. She has the power to cloud men's minds, to bend them to her will… “

“All right, that's enough.”

“That's scarcely the start. Though any list of her witcherly charms would likely be sorely incomplete. I expect Letita could add to the-”

Of a sudden, Julia stopped and went rigid on the spot. Her golden scales quivered, her ruby eyes blinked.

“Something coming, Finn. Something-over there. Get back, quick!”

Finn needed no further warning. Julia had a sense for such things, knew when trouble was about an instant be fore it began. Before her words were scarcely done, Finn heard the tortured sound of splintered wood, and the great oaken doors at the end of the hall burst open and tumbled to the floor.

They spilled into the hall then, a veritable plague of Bowsers, yipping, yapping, waving their muskets, clashing their swords, tossing their tasteless boaters in the air. They snapped at their comrades, growled at their foes.

And, before the startled courtiers could gather their wits, before the fierce Badgies could resist, the second wave was howling through the broken doors…