“He quoted scripture,” Maddigern said. “I heard him. He said it aloud.”
“I'm afraid he did.”
“We're not supposed to hear this. Damn the fellow, Dostagio, I have to kill us all.”
“Wait, hold it there,” Finn said.
“I suppose you do, Captain/Major, but I wonder if the rule applies if we have prior orders from the King. Might not such an order take precedence over Shameful Heresy and Disrespect for the Dead?”
“You have a point, First Servant.”
“Well, then. I suggest I take it up with the Forty-Third Elder and get back to you on this.”
“Good. That's that. Now, Master Finn and Miss, get on to the hall like you're told. And no more foul desecration or such as that. We're religious people here.”
“Why?” Finn asked. “You're not even allowed to join.”
“Of course we're not, sir. What kind of church do you think this is…?”
THIRTY-FOUR
If Finn expected the comfy surroundings of the King's private chamber, he had clearly forgotten the awesome Holy Place of Emperors, Tyrants and Kings, with its fossilized rulers of the past, or the grandeur of the Great Dining Hall, and its magnificent dome of leaded glass.
The Great Hall of Tedious Favors and Petitions followed the theme of Heldessian splendor in all respects. The floor was a sparkling mosaic picturing myth and legend from ancient times. The columns that lined the hall were as massive as the trees of northern climes, where the mighty Grizz sat about their fires.
The vaulted stone ceiling rose to dizzying heights, nearly beyond the reach of the hanging crystal lights.
“Better than Prince Aghen Aghenfleck's hall, I'll say that,” Finn whispered to Letitia Louise.
“Well, it's higher, all right. But Aghenfleck does have very nice balconies that let in the light.”
“Those balconies are there so he can stand and watch his cousins go under the Grapnel and the Snip,” Finn told her. “Or see how they fare beneath the Mush… “
“Hah! There you are, my boy. Good! Good! Nice of you to come!”
King Llowenkeef-Grymm suddenly burst forth through a small crowd of courtiers gathered at the far end of the hall. Finn noticed everyone was dressed in red today, instead of purple hues. There were counselors in madder, cherry and pink. Chamberlains in ruby, cardinal and wine. Lords, ladies, toadies and fools in every shade of rust, amber, coral and rose.
The King was again attired in pious tatters and rags of soot and gray, with a face of ghoulish white, and large black circles about his eyes.
“You haven't missed a thing,” the King said. “All the miserable wretches are gone, be thankful for that. Why is it the poor all want something? Is it that way in your country as well? I never grant more than three favors at a time, they know that, but they won't go away.
“Ah, lizard is with you as well. Fine, fine. And this is the charming Miss Letitia Louise. I'm sorry we haven't met. You're most welcome here. I have always said, if I were to take a female of the animal persuasion to my bed, it would be a Mycer girl. Oh, now, I hope I haven't embarrassed you in any way, my dear. You can say anything you like if you're the King, and sometimes I do.”
“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace…” Letitia was appalled, but no longer greatly surprised at what a human might say.
“I shall introduce you to the court,” the King told the two, “or as many as I can recall. First, though, I've prepared a little surprise. I hope you'll be impressed, Finn, it's all about you.”
“Me, sire? I can't imagine what you mean.”
Finn's throat went suddenly dry. He looked all about, to see if there was anything to drink.
“You're much too modest, boy, a quality I find abhorrent in a person. I do hope you'll work on that. Oh, we're starting. Just wait right here, if you will.”
The King trotted off, leaving a string, a tatter, a bit of his shroud here and there.
“I have a very bad feeling about this,” Finn said. “I can't imagine what the old fool is going to do. Maybe I'm to be fossilized and put on display somewhere.”
“Oh no, Finn. You're not a king or anything. They wouldn't do that.”
“It was a jest, Letitia. A poor one, I admit, but I'm not in the best of form today.”
“If it's anything fatal,” Julia said from her perch, “explain that Letitia and I had nothing to do with whatever it is. That's the least you can do.”
“I hope it's not that blasphemy thing,” Letitia said. “You likely should have kept that to yourself, dear.”
“I'm sure you're right. Unfortunately, it's too late to- Rocks and Socks, what's that?”
A terrible sound shook the hall, a squeal, a din, a flat and nasal blare, as if a flock of geese had some disorder of the bill.
A horde of courtiers, chattering, tittering, bobbing about, suddenly filled the Great Hall, a gaudy circus of crimson tones. And, as Finn noticed, one poor fellow in green, clearly blind to the color red.
The clamor, the blast, the most unmusical sounds, came from a dozen young boys in lurid salmon hues. They blew on enormous horns of brass until they were flushed, and someone made them stop.
“Even I cannot make more horrid sounds than that,” Julia said.
“No, but on occasion you have tried.”
The crowd began to cheer. Some waved and hopped about. Some tossed their hats in the air, and some kicked off their shoes. Finn was next to certain no one knew what they were cheering about. If the King cheered or booed, or cut off his ear, then they would do it too.
“Finn, would you tell me what's happening, please? It's awfully noisy, and I don't like it here.”
Finn didn't like it either. It came on a golden cart with wobbly wheels. Whatever it was, it was hidden by a colorful kingly drape. The item, the thing, the burden on the cart, poked itself up in sharp, pointy little peaks. It could be a pot of eels, it could be a rocking chair. The King had a fine sense of humor, and it could indeed be a Badgie with an axe.
Whatever it was, it came with jolly trumpeters, who couldn't find the key, plus a herd, a covey, a flight of happy nobles, peers, and those about the palace with nothing else to do.
“Here, now, gather round, all,” shouted King Llowen-keef-Grymm. “This is something special, and I wish to share it with my nobles, and even those of you who are nothing at all.”
More cheers, more huzzahs. Courtiers far from the center of things escaped to find a mug of ale.
“I want you to move in closer, Master Finn, and you too, Miss. Right in front, if you please.”
“Yes, thank you, sire,” Finn said, and, in a quick aside to Letitia Louise, “whatever happens, stay close to me. I still have Koodigern's dagger, and I'll take as many with us as I can.”
“Finn, it's just some churchy thing, I'm sure. I don't see why they'd harm us.”
“You've much to learn about the treachery of kings, my dear, but I've no time to tell you now.”
And though he had no wish to alarm Letitia, Finn could see that a company of Badgies had slipped in behind them with no sound at all.
“I can take out eight or nine,” Julia said, “possibly ten.”
“Don't. Not unless I do, you hear?”
“Striking first is the basic rule of strategy, set down by Hephades the Sly.”
“Staying alive is the basic rule of Finn the coward. Shut it down, Julia, now.”
“What's this all about?” Letitia wanted to know.
“Julia. I need to get her in the shop.”
“Oh. What for?”
“Master Finn, up here, if you please.”
The King reached out and entangled Finn in a clutter of grim, funereal gear, sooty snips of this and that.
“We have here,” the King announced, “one Finn of Fyxedia, craftsman of lizards, a device he thought up by himself.
“With him is one of the very lizards he's produced, along with Miss Letitia Louise, a Mycer girl in his service,
