the haunted kingdom, Charles E.J. Moulton [chrome ebook reader TXT] 📗

me that these comments from her were strategically uttered for Belinda to hear. She led us here. She led us to this spot. She knew thirteen years ago that we were going to be experiencing this right now.”
Belinda nodded at him, raising her hand. “She told me these things at the rack, revealing facts that obviously were top secret. She would never have done it if she didn’t want this information to lead somewhere and to be taken seriously.”
“Yes.” Steven answered. “But what was her plan?”
“So that we all could remember them in the future.” Tom said. “She wants to lead us to Fraytollah. That is the only thing I can comprehend could be the reason.”
“If that is true, what is then waiting for us when we are there?” Belinda cocked her head and closed her eyes. “This is dangerous, gentlemen,” she argued. “The diary was never taken away from me. I can remember her actually walking away from the dungeon when she saw me writing in them. If I can remember it correctly, she even provided me with the books and the pens. She wanted me to write down what she had said back then. She lured me into this.”
Alexander sighed and looked out at the autumn landscape. “My sister actually did mean it thirty years ago when she said that she would come back to haunt me one day. She was probably already planning the visit and also the actual curse back then.”
Tom interfered. “What do we have so far?”
Steven filled in. “Lucinda on purpose reveals to Belinda secret information about the Fraytollah harbour in 1411 for us to piece together in 1424. If I am right she wants us to go there and infiltrate the pirate ships. Why else would she have presented us with a fake sailor whom we hear is dead since many weeks?”
John Lyghort spoke. “Do you positively know that Lucinda planned this?”
“We know.” Belinda responded.
“How?” he spat.
Steven sighed. “We know her motives. She wants revenge.”
There was a long silence.
“After it,” Belinda continued. “So, what do we do? Just ignore her warnings? I mean, if she seriously has presented us with the clues leading to the Fraytollah harbour she might have something else for us in store there.” She felt uneasy, edgy and nervous. “On the other hand, we here have the possibility of cornering a problem we have dealt with for a long time. Not going to Fraytollah would be a grave mistake. These pirate ships obviously have all come from Fraytollah. The fact that we have had suspicions of false captains in the past does not help us much. All I know is that this is a fantastic chance to conquer this problem. The Medatlantic Merger was founded so we could save Margetania from the pirate attacks by ships we passed because we had no proof of false play.”
King Alexander turned to the outsider in the group. “Do you have information about the harbour or anything that would lead to a clue where this harbour could be?”
John Lyghort twitched with his head once and scratched his cheek. It was the look of a man who was confronted with an uncomfortable truth that, nonetheless, was amusing to contemplate.
“Fraytollah is like the legend of The Flying Dutchman,” he spoke and everyone looked at one another. “We all believe in the legend, but no one has seen the actual man. Fraytollah is,. well, let me put it this way. There are so many stories about the place that it virtually impossible to outdo the stories. Dragons live there, they say and there are demons recruited as messengers and there are forest gypsies trained like monkeys to become first mates on ships with no names.”
Steven persisted. “Where is it? Does anyone have any suspicion where it could be?”
John nodded profusely. “You are asking me a question I cannot answer, dear Sire,” he cackled hoarsely. “There are just clues.”
“What have you heard so far?” Belinda said persistently.
“There is a river that opens into the ocean on the north coast,” he said shyly. “That river leads into a deep forest and the river twists and turns a million times.” Lyghort cleared his throat. “The river ends in a large bay. Nobody has ever tried to make it there. There are rumours that the place is haunted by a Cadzillion spooks.” The assembly of majesties laughed at Lyghort’s made up words like “Cadzillion,” “It is obvious no one really knows where it is. It is only a very wild assumption.”
Belinda walked back and forth in the room and then she turned to Alexander.
“Father,” she said at last. “We can’t let this chance pass us by, but we can’t send an army there either. We will have to send an infiltrator working under an assumed identity.”
Alexander raised his eyebrows and snorted. “If we can find the harbour. That country is undiscovered beyond anything we have ever seen.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t try, father,” she said. “We can solve the problem now. I don’t believe that Lucinda has the strength to beat me to it. If she has a surprise for us there, we will handle it. I will see to it that we will face the challenge. We shall cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Alexander nodded. “All right. Who do we send?”
Tom looked down and looked intent on saying something. He hesitated and then finally said. “I’ll go,” he said.
Belinda shook her head. “What? There is no need for you to go, Tom. This is a dangerous mission and no one knows what kind of perils are waiting over there. I meant someone else. Not you.”
Tom held up his hand and said: “That summer of 1411 I should have taken care of you. Because you were so persistent in choosing Steven as your partner at the ball festivities, I left you to yourself. It is my fault that you were abducted in the first place. If I can do something to mend this…”
He thought about what he wanted to say for a minute and then went on.
“…thing I am responsible for, then I am happy to oblige.”
Alexander shook his head and laughed a melancholy laugh. “I know what the dangers are and I also know that I cannot talk you out of it.” Alexander walked up to him and put both hands around his cheeks and caressed them. It was a fatherly gesture, surprising in its depth and sensitivity. “Are you absolutely positive you want this? You don’t have to do this, you know, son.”
Tom nodded. “I hate these darned rats as much as the next royalty, your majesty,” he spat. “There is one thing that I can say. Willy Zebulon was no hero, but he didn’t deserve to be impersonated by some forest gypsy parading as a seafarer.”
Belinda, who with solemn step walked up to him, embraced his head with her hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips, followed a long silence. Everyone looked down a trifle touched and embarrassed. She slowly let go of his lower lip for a moment before she withdrew.
She spoke softly.
“I never loved you” she spoke. “If I were not married, I might have fallen in love with you now.” She walked away into the arms of her forgiving husband, who kissed her as well.
“So,” Lyghort said. “Then it is off to the unknown then, ain’t it?”
“I guess.” Tom said.
“May the Lord protect you on your way.” Steven said.
Ulfaas had been standing a while silent and now he said: “Come back safe. We need you.”
There was no answer to this inquiry.
No one could say if it was possible for Tom to return home at all.


CHAPTER ELEVEN: NOMED SNEKAWA

Saturday, October 18th, 1424 A.D.

John Lyghort had finally decided to leave for Danehamn. Although very intensively tutored to understand the problematic situation, he felt that assisting the King was a trifle too high a matter. Alexander had begged him to stay as an advisor, but the chap with the invented vocabulary felt that his men had waited long enough. Besides, the ship was due to embark any day. The old sailor was given a large sum of money as a sign of gratitude for his assistance and was told to report to Ulfaas in Danehamn the moment his vessel reached the port from Russia.
The throne room was filled with dignitaries. Zedrick, Cretan, Alexander, Sieglinde, Belinda, Steven, Rolf, Tom, Ulfaas, Patricia, Theo, Marcus, Philip and the Archbishop Bernardus Paul had been invited to the congregation and they sat discussing a possible plan for sending Tom to Fraytollah. Sitting at a round table, which was positioned right opposite the throne on the exit side of the room, the assembly were gathered together to discuss.
Surrounded by grey stone walls, under flickering torchlight, there was a long conversation on how to go about sending Tom on the secret mission. Chief Senator Julius Cretan had brought a list of possible candidates that would be helpful to work as guides. The best men in the land were handpicked to join the well-spoken gent on his journey to see the dark side of Medatlantia.
In the middle of this conversation, Tom announced he had decided to go alone. Cretan strongly protested and emphasized the importance of a crew of trained sailors to ensure the trip was successful. Tom said that he had worked by the channel, as a sailor and as a soldier. All he needed was a horse and plenty of money and food to last him a long time.
Cretan marched out, calling the plan “preposterous” and “risky” and “frankly, dumb.”
Cretan was called back by Alexander and the King agreed with Tom. An entire squadron and fleet of soldiers might cause suspicion. Why couldn’t they tutor Tom where to find the place and teach him the tricks of undercover infiltrating? One man might better be able come through as a new member of the crew and not be suspected to be part of a government.
Cretan claimed that Tom was running the grave risk of becoming “hooked” and forced to become a Bular. This meant being forced to be a criminal gypsy symbolically chained, as it were, to the duties of guarding illegal shipments. The tattoo was a clear sign of labouring against the law and if one had a tattoo like that no government in the world would accept you.
Alexander responded that Tom was a personal long time friend. Alexander was the King of the continent’s biggest empire. A better friend he could not have. If anyone gave Tom trouble, he would see to it that the problem was solved quickly.
Cretan was beaten and it was decided that Tom was to be trained and tutored to find and infiltrate the secret harbour. That night, Tom didn’t sleep well.

Autumn and Winter of 1424 A.D.

Tom received what easily could be described as a crash course in becoming a forest gypsy and pirate. The art of infiltration was discussed and information on how to handle situations of a threatening nature was taught.
Before commencing on his journey, the young man was asked when he wanted to leave. He said that he did not want to waste any time. On 28th October 1424, Tom rode out on a brown stallion with five days ration of food supplies and a sleeping bag. A month’s supply of monetary payment capabilities on parchment, a Prosperanian special invention of payment, was also handed over into his eager fingers.
Life went on as usual as soon as the man left, but it was obvious that everyone was worried about what was going to