The Pinnacle Of Empire (Book 6), page 10
part #6 of Neuyokkasinian Arc Of Empire Seroes Series
“Enter,” Saxthor said, sitting up in his chair.
Belnik entered and stood erect in a stately pose, surveying the room as a general assuming command. An elegantly attired servant followed with a tray and Belnik directed him with precision as to where to set it.
“Good afternoon, Belnik,” Saxthor said.
“You may go,” Belnik said to the servant before responding to the greeting.
Saxthor grinned, noting he had no say in the matter. Belnik personally prepared a small plate of treats the emperor preferred and allowed Tittletot to select one for Belnik to sample just for safety sake. He looked at Tittletot and winked.
The diminutive elf slipped around behind Belnik. The devoted aide poured a goblet of drink and sampled that also before taking goblet and plate to the desk for Saxthor.
“Thank you, but I’m really not hungry,” Saxthor said. He spotted another slight movement behind his aide.
Belnik stood erect, crossing his hands in front, like a domineering mother defying a child’s insurrection. His face tightened in a frown as he stared down at the emperor.
“Your Highness knows full well you must eat to keep up your strength. Who knows when you shall be called upon to put down a rebellion or slay a dragon? How would I feel should your strength fail you just at a critical moment, knowing I failed to keep you in excellent condition?”
“Alright, Belnik. I’ll eat something just for your peace of mind.” Saxthor sat forward in the chair and pretended to be studying the selections on the plate. From the corner of his eye, he saw Belnik leaning forward totally focused on Saxthor’s choice. He also saw another slight silent movement behind his aide. “Ah, this roasted chicken drumstick looks good.”
“Now don’t go getting your fingers all messy. You’ll get grease on your correspondence and Boktorian will think you a barbarian.” Belnik turned back toward the sideboard for a knife and fork to de-bone the drumstick. “The shiftless kitchen staff should have prepared that for you already.” As he turned and started back, he toppled over Tittletot who’d snuck up behind him on hands and knees. Belnik’s formal elegance flew apart with his state robes and flying status symbols. Saxthor broke out laughing, hunching over in his chair. Tittletot popped up hands in the air, turning a victory circle with triumphant grin.
“Come here, you little beast!” Belnik shouted. Delia crawled under the desk. Belnik checked his person for damage and brushed off his robes then collected his golden embellishments that proclaimed his status among the emperor’s inner circle. After examining and realigning the plush feather in his hat, he plopped it back on his head and again stood erect in a huff.
“Tell Belnik you’re sorry, Tittletot,” Saxthor said, trying to stifle his laughter.
“I tell you that tittletot will be the end of us all,” Belnik insisted. “You should dismiss him from your court. Send him back to King Zirkin post haste.”
“Now Belnik, Tittletot saw I was down and wanted to lighten the moment. I’m sorry you were the butt of his joke, but you must admit it was funny.”
“Funny indeed, I don’t know why I try to look out for you. You have him to attend you now.” Belnik pointed to Tittletot and cast a fierce glare. Tittletot shuffled around behind the desk, his head lowered, and ears flopping lower still. His face penitent, he glanced up at Belnik, looked at him a moment, then cast a quick grin at Saxthor.
“Little beast,” Belnik mumbled.
“Okay, so I’m sorry.”
Belnik puffed up. “I don’t believe it for a moment.” He relaxed his stance, got the knife and fork, de-boned the chicken, and plopped the utensils on the desk atop a napkin. “I’m sure your little savage can provide further assistance if you need it.” He turned to leave.
“Now, Belnik, you two need to be friends. I have only the two of you for family now that all my other close friends are back in Konnotan. Shake hands and make amends.”
Belnik huffed a moment then, hesitating, turned to Tittletot and reached to shake hands. He jumped back when the cocklebur in Tittletot’s hand surprised him. Saxthor laughed again at the shocked expression on Belnik’s face.
“There, you see, the beast is incapable of being friends with me,” Belnik said.
“It was just a joke,” Saxthor said, still chuckling. Belnik would have no more and left the room.
“Shame on you, Tittletot. You know Belnik has taken meticulous care of me for years. You must not offend him. He’s not much of a practical joker. I need for you two to be friends. Make an effort to befriend him.”
“Uh huh.”
“Did you hear me?” Saxthor said and he jumped up. “Do you need a spanking?”
Tittletot made a dash for the door. Saxthor broke out laughing again. Tittletot stopped and cast back a scrunched face.
Saxthor grinned. “You’re not much for being the victim of jokes either, I see.”
Tittletot frowned again and shuffled out the door.
*
Tittletot went to his room and searched through his personal affects he’d stored in a secret place.
“There it is.” He tucked the item into his sash and went in search of Belnik. He found him sulking in his suite down the hall from Saxthor’s apartments and tapped on the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Tittletot.”
“Go away, I don’t need any broken bones or more bruises today.”
The door slipped open and Tittletot poked his head in. He looked at Belnik, lowered his head, and took off his jester’s hat. His large ear lobes flopped.
“I said go away.”
Tittletot pushed the door open further and shuffled in, closing the door gently behind him. “May I speak with your honor?”
“Well, I see you don’t listen either. I guess you chatter twice as much to make up for it. What do you want? And keep your distance.”
“Lord Belnik, I know you to be the finest of men and most devoted of the emperor’s inner circle. I hope we can be friends. I’m sorry for offending you before, but Saxthor was in a slump and I had to get him out of it.”
“Well, you did that. It’s a wonder he didn’t hurt himself laughing at my humiliation.”
“He wasn’t laughing at you, Belnik; he was laughing with all three of us.”
Belnik sneered, but shook his body head to toe. Tittletot grinned and bowed.
“Ok, so you can kick me in the behind.” Tittletot turned around, stooped forward, set his short legs to sustain him, and prepared to be launched at the door.
“I should, you know, I should kick you out through the door.”
“Just a moment, I’ll open the door. If you must be without mercy, I hope you won’t insist on kicking me through the door.” Tittletot resumed his stance.
There was a moment of silence and Tittletot heard Belnik chuckling behind him. He turned around and Belnik broke out laughing.
“Alright, you little beast, you got the best of me there.”
Tittletot laughed too, but then his face stiffened. He closed the door again and shuffled over to the bed where Belnik remained seated. With difficulty, he crawled up and sat beside the aide, his short legs kicking off the side.
“You want something. Out with it you conniving creature.”
“Lord Belnik, I think it’s you and I that must protect the emperor. He is still in danger here. I would like to be your friend too. We should work together to save Saxthor from those that would harm him.”
Belnik looked Tittletot in the eye for the first time Tittletot could remember, apparently searching his face for intent. Belnik’s face tightened. After a moment, his expression softened and he extended his hand. This time Tittletot gave it a strong shake.
“No more practical jokes.”
“Who, me?” Tittletot asked. He projected an impish grin on a cocked face. “Never.”
“I can see I’m destined to die young.” Belnik’s face looked stern, glancing at Tittletot, but he couldn’t hold the fierceness. A grin broke through.
“Let’s go get some chicken,” Tittletot said.
“I think Saxthor got the lot,” Belnik said, rising. “There were other treats in the kitchen. I know where they’re hidden.” He reached and lifted Tittletot off the bed, and the two new friends went off down the hall to the kitchen.
“Any sweets there?”
“Don’t you go getting fatter, Tittletot, fat tittletots end up as dragon canopies.”
“Have you seen a dragon?”
“I have, indeed,” Belnik said as they went down the hall and turned a corner to the stairs. “Did I ever tell you about the time Saxthor fought the great silver dragon, Ozrin, on the back of his own golden dragon, Yamma-Mirra Heedra?”
Suddenly, Tittletot stood still and looked all around.
“What’s the matter?”
Tittletot took out the treasured object he’d stuck in his tunic. He handed it up to Belnik.
“What’s this?” Belnik stepped back, his face askew. “Another joke so soon?”
Tittletot tightened his face to reflect the seriousness he wanted to project. “Keep this talisman around your neck and with you always. It will protect you and warn you when you’re in the presence of evil.”
Belnik studied the strange object, then looked at Tittletot with suspicion. Tittletot extended his hand more. Hesitant, Belnik reached for the thing that appeared as a small stone, yet not a stone. He took it and put the chain around his neck, tucking the amulet in his shirt.
“Tell me about these dragons.” Tittletot said.
“Well… it was at the end of the Great War…”
* * *
In the privacy of her suite, Helgamyr thumbed through her magic books. She’d dismissed her ladies-in-waiting who were only too glad to attend the empress instead. Only Endaquac had stayed with her. A sound beyond the door alerted her to someone’s presence. She peeked around a palm frond and saw Endaquac slip back into their retreat.
“Did you get the ingredients?” Helgamyr asked the maid before she could even take off her cloak.
“I got them,” Endaquac said, her voice flat.
“Quickly now, I must have them.”
Endaquac took the small packets, tightly wrapped and bound, from a deep pocket in her cloak. Helgamyr snatched them and dashed back into her supply closet where she hid her magic books and apparatuses. She heard Endaquac following her at a slower pace.
“Look here, it says this spell will bring hives to the recipient.” Helgamyr tingled at her discovery. Endaquac looked at the spell book, reading the page. “Do you suppose this wand will really cast a spell? I mean can it do some real damage?”
“I don’t know, Majesty,” Endaquac replied with little enthusiasm. “I suppose you could try it out on some small animal in the forest beyond the palace walls.”
“Good idea. We’ll go out early in the morning before the palace awakens and test it out. Now, let’s see what treasures you brought back.”
They went over each of the ingredients, checking them against the various recipes in the book Helgamyr had selected. Next morning, in a dull fog, the two women slipped past dozing guards and into the imperial grove of the palace gardens. They made their way to a trail deep in the thicket and came across a rat eating grass seeds by a side path.
“Quick! The wand,” Helgamyr said.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Endaquac asked, searching her satchel for the tool.
“Of course, you know I do. Saxthor must be made to suffer. Now, hand me the wand.”
Endaquac put the rod in Helgamyr’s hand, who kept her sight fixed on the rat, which hadn’t seen them yet through the morning haze.
Helgamyr closed her eyes and scrunched her face, trying to remember the spell. “Got it.” She took a deep breath, leaned back, and thrust her arm forward like an arrow. The wand was in perfect alignment, projecting to the rat. She mumbled the spell as she remembered it and a blue spark shot from the stick, striking the startled rat with a pop.
“You got him,” Endaquac said.
Helgamyr clapped her hands together in pure delight. When the smoke from burning rat hair cleared, the rodent was as large as an intimidating dog and sported two inch fangs. It now faced the two women, having locked its sight on them as well.
“What’s this?” Helgamyr asked, befuddled. “That’s not what was supposed to happen.”
“You must have gotten the spell wrong.”
“I got it right… I’m sure I got it…”
The now embolden rat snarled and hissed, then leapt toward the women.
The maid stared, stunned. “Rats aren’t supposed to snarl.”
“Run!” Helgamyr shouted. She all but knocked Endaquac down rushing past her.
“Faster!” Endaquac said from behind.
“Is it still after us?” Helgamyr’s cloak caught on a branch. She heard it rip as she rushed on, not slowing even to check the damage. “Thud,” she heard behind her. There was a yelp. She slowed, not hearing either the maid or the rodent behind her. She turned and saw Endaquac smash the rat’s unconscious head over and over with a rock. “You killed it.”
“Yes, I killed it.”
Helgamyr felt nauseous seeing blood and brains on her maid. “You’ve got… stuff all over you. Let’s get back to the palace. We need to clean up.”
They walked out of the grove in silence, past startled guards now awake. Back in the dowager’s suite, Helgamyr looked at the maid, who was washing splashed blood off her arm. “I couldn’t have done that.”
Endaquac looked up, still patting her arm. “Back where I came from, we had to kill the rats or lose our food.”
Helgamyr felt nauseous. “I see; you’re very brave.”
Endaquac laughed a little, the first laughter Helgamyr had heard from her. “You’d better study your spells a bit more before you attack another rat, Highness.”
“Yes, indeed,” Helgamyr said, but she couldn’t get the sight of the maid smashing the rat’s head out of her mind.
*
Two days later, a letter arrived from King Nindax of Senoshesvas. Like her own letter to the king, it was on fine paper and secured well with ribbon and a wax seal. Accompanying it was a small box, also securely wrapped. A Senoshesvas messenger delivered both personally.
“What’s in the package?” Endaquac asked. Her voice was elevated.
Helgamyr dropped the letter and grabbed the small, neatly wrapped package. She tore at the wrapping but hesitated when she’d freed the box inside.
“You open it,” Helgamyr said, thrusting the gift at Endaquac.
Endaquac took the container without hesitation and opened it. “It’s a broach, a beautiful broach.”
“Give it to me,” Helgamyr said, grabbing the ornament. “It’s the first time anyone has given me jewelry since Engwan died.”
Endaquac watched the former empress fondle the broach, caressing the gems in it as if they were alive and delicate. “That’s fine workmanship.”
“Yes, it’s beautiful. The large, central amethyst gleams. These pigeon-blood garnets surrounding it so enhance the deep purple.” She glanced at Endaquac, then, smiling, stuck the pin through her blouse, securing it. She went to a mirror to check how it looked. Endaquac followed.
“Who sent it?” Endaquac asked.
“Yes, who sent it?” Helgamyr repeated. “Hand me that letter there on the floor.”
The dowager tore it open without regard for the wrapping. Endaquac stared at the wax seal as Helgamyr read the letter.
“It’s from King Nindax,” Helgamyr announced, not looking up as she read.
Endaquac noted her voice and saw her blush. “You must have an admirer after all.”
Still reading, Helgamyr reached up and patted the back of her meticulous hairdo. She glanced back in the mirror then back to the letter. “It would seem so.”
“What does he say?”
Helgamyr suddenly stared up at Endaquac, her expression cold.
“Never you mind what he says. Go get me some tea.”
Endaquac was taken aback at the response but bowed slightly and left to get the refreshments.
* * *
“I’m pregnant!” Tottiana blurted out, rushing into Helgamyr’s suite. “Where are you, Mother?”
The dowager hurried into the reception room, brushing off her dress and patting her hair.
Tottiana noticed a dark grey smear on her mother’s cheek. That’s strange, knowing how fastidious she is about her appearance, she thought.
“I’m here, dear,” the slightly distressed dowager said. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Helgamyr stumbled, finding her footing when she grabbed a chair. Her eyes narrowed, and her smile gave way to tightly pinched lips. She looked away, toward the window. “I told you to take precautions.”
“Well, I forgot.”
“What’s to be done with it?”
“What do you mean, ‘What’s to be done with it?”
“You must get rid of it. This usurper will have no heir by our house.”
Tottiana moved to a chair. She looked at her mother, whose cold stare was fixed on her. “It’s a disaster, I agree, but I can’t kill the child now that it’s happened. What’s come over you, Mother? I’ve never known you to want to hurt a child. I know you hate Saxthor, but to destroy his child, our child… what can you be thinking?”
Helgamyr’s expression froze Tottiana. The dowager moved closer to her daughter, holding the stare, her eyes glazed and growing bloodshot. “There are ways. I have been studying some magic and medicinal manuals. I’ll find a way to dispose of it.”
Tottiana bolted out of her chair. “I didn’t want his child, but I won’t be party to murder, Mother. Take your revenge on Saxthor, but not my child.” She put her hand over her abdomen and, looking at her mother once more, turned to leave the room.
Helgamyr followed her to the door. “Who knows of this?”
“No one, yet, but I’m going to tell Saxthor.”
