Terrible Beast of Zor Page 3

  When Josh’s steak was ready, Goél set it before him, saying, “There. I hope you like it.”

  “But you don’t have to serve me, sire,” Josh protested again. “You are special. I ought to be waiting on you—because of who you are.”

  Goél put his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Remember, I’ve always said that true greatness is connected with serving. The truly special are not those who are waited on, but those who give themselves to helping others. What I have done will remind you all in days to come.” He continued to speak for some time about serving others. Then Goél laughed and said, “But enough of the sermon. Now I’ll have some of this good food myself.”

  They continued eating and talking, and when all were finished, Goél leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. “That was fine,” he said. Then he silently looked around, studying each face.

  When Goél looked at people, Josh thought, it seemed he entered into their thinking. All the Sleepers said that. It was a peculiar thing. When they had a clear conscience, they could face him, and it was a pleasure. But when they had been involved in some activity that they knew would not please Goél, it was almost impossible to hold his gaze. Josh felt that way when his turn came.

  But after looking each in the eyes, Goél smiled. “I imagine it wouldn’t be too hard for you to guess what I’m doing here.”

  “I reckon not,” Reb spoke up. “You’ve got another job for us to do.”

  “That’s right, Reb. I must interrupt your rest. Maybe someday I’ll come and not bring a hard task—but I’m afraid this time I do.”

  Sarah said quickly, “We don’t mind, Goél. That’s what we’re here for. What mission is it this time?”

  “There is a kingdom called Madria. It’s approximately a five days’ journey from here. The king and queen are faithful servants of mine, and they are in considerable difficulty.” He looked thoughtful. “They are surrounded by enemies. The nearby kingdom of Zor is occupied by savage people under the influence of the Dark Lord, who have been at war with Madria for some time. Now I fear that unless something happens, Madria will be lost.”

  “What is it exactly you would like for us to do?” Josh asked, forgetting his bad mood for a moment.

  “One thing that must be done,” Goél said, “concerns the young prince of Madria. His name is Alexander. He has taken a wrong turn in his life, and I would ask you to do what you can to change his ways.”

  “How old is he, Goél?” Sarah asked.

  “He is eighteen years old and a very fine looking young man.” He smiled at Abbey, saying, “I wish that he were as fine inside as he is outside.”

  “What’s wrong with him, sire?” Wash asked.

  “Unfortunately, he has been pampered all of his life. He is an only child, so perhaps it’s understandable, but Alexander’s parents made a sad and grievous error. It isn’t good for a young man—or a young woman—to have his own way all the time.

  “In any case,” Goél went on, “King Alquin was a splendid soldier indeed, and as long as he was able to lead, I did not concern myself with Zor’s overrunning Madria. But now things are different. The king was severely wounded in the wars and is not well. It will soon be time for Prince Alexander to step into his father’s place, but I fear he is unprepared.”

  “Well, what can we do to help?” Jake spoke up. “We can’t make him do the right thing.”

  “I do not think anyone can ever force another to ‘do the right thing.’ But by now you have had some experience with people, and you have all learned some things yourselves.” He suddenly looked at Josh and said abruptly, “I mentioned a moment ago that serving is the most important element of greatness. Prince Alexander needs to learn to forget himself and to serve his parents and his country. If you can teach him that, I think all will be well.”

  The Sleepers sat silent, thinking.

  At last Sarah said quietly, “We will do all we can, Goél, to help the people of Madria.”

  Goél too had fallen quiet. Now he roused himself, and his expression took on a touch of sadness. “I think Prince Alexander has come to a crossroads. Either he will grow up and become a man of honor and valor like his father, or he will become something quite different. I trust that you will help him to take the right path.”

  4

  The Spoiled Brat

  The Sleepers pressed their horses hard, and the journey was tiring. They paused each day at noon for a break, then rode until almost dark. Now they rode their weary animals through the territory of Zor, and Josh sensed that everyone was apprehensive.

  “This is a spooky place,” Jake muttered. He was not a good rider and had been thrown more than once. He often looked with envy at Reb, who rode his tall, roan stallion easily.

  Reb looked about at the rising countryside and shrugged his shoulders. “Not such a bad looking place, I’d say.”

  “Country’s not bad,” Jake snapped back, “but the people here aren’t much!”

  In truth, as they had passed through the kingdom of Zor, they had found the people to be sullen and unfriendly. They were a brown-skinned people, burned by the sun, and most of the men wore black beards. They kept their beards oiled, and that somehow gave them a rather evil appearance.

  At the head of the small party of travelers, Josh kept his eyes moving from point to point. Late in the day, he spotted something troubling. “Look ahead, Sarah. I think that’s some sort of military group up there.”

  Sarah looked in the direction that Josh indicated. “They’re soldiers all right. A lot of them.”

  “Well, I hope they don’t give us any trouble.”

  They rode up to where a unit of heavily armed Zorian troops had formed themselves into a line. The soldiers’ eyes glittered, and several of them had arrows notched into their bows, ready to shoot.

  “Halt! What’s your business here?”

  The speaker was a burly man. He seemed to be an officer, for he wore a four-pointed star on his forehead.

  “We’re travelers,” Josh said, “making our way through to Madria.”

  At the name of their destination the muscular officer examined them even more closely, and a mutter went down the line of soldiers. Now all the warriors were fingering their swords or their bows ominously.

  “What is your business in Madria?”

  “We have private business there.” Josh reached into an inner pocket and pulled forth a sheet of parchment. “We have safe passage here from the Zorian minister himself.”

  Another mutter went up and down the line, and the officer snatched at the paper. He studied it, peering at it closely, and then growled. “It appears to be in order.” Handing the sheet back, he examined the riders one more time. Apparently he decided that these strangers were not a threat, for he laughed harshly and said, “When you get to Madria, tell them their days are just about over.”

  Josh did not answer the Zorian, not wanting to antagonize him. Instead he nodded, stuck the pass back into his pocket, and kicked his horse into a swift gallop.

  The others followed, and soon all were at the crest of the mountain. It was a high mountain and studded with deep green forest, trees so thick that it was not easy to make their way through.

  Josh looked around him and said, “From what I understand, these mountains are all that save Madria from being overwhelmed by the Zorians. There are only a few passes that can be traveled. I expect we’ll be running into the Madrian border guards pretty soon.”

  He was not wrong. Within five minutes, they encountered another detachment of soldiers. These were taller men and not so heavy as the Zorians. The man who came forward to meet them was wearing a light green uniform and was backed with a dozen other soldiers wearing the same. These troops too carried bows and arrows held at the ready.

  “Halt!”

  Josh reined in his horse at once and threw up his hands. As the other horses drew up behind him, he said, “My name is Josh Adams. My companions and I seek an audience with the king of Madria.”


  “Many people seek an audience with the king. We don’t allow every traveler that happens to ask for it such an audience.”

  But Josh had come prepared for this. He reached into his pocket again, found an envelope, and handed it to the officer. “Here is a letter signed by the king himself requesting our presence. I think he will be glad to see us.”

  The officer’s eyes swept the writing, and then he handed back the letter. “Very well. If you will follow me, I will take you to the king myself.” He turned to the soldiers and said, “Keep close guard. Framan, take charge until I return.”

  The Sleepers and their guide started off, and the officer gave Josh a curious look more than once. Finally he observed, “Not many people are able to travel through Zor to reach our country.”

  “We had a pass signed by the minister of Zor himself.”

  “That must be quite a trick. He doesn’t give those out every day.”

  Josh could tell that the soldier was bursting with curiosity. But he thought it best not to reveal anything further, and he kept his silence until they had reached the capital.

  “I don’t see many people on the streets,” Josh said.

  The officer said—rather sadly, Josh thought—“No. Our numbers are not what they were.”

  Sarah was riding close to Josh as they made their way along the narrow streets. What people there were looked harried and worn.

  “The people look so tired,” she murmured. “It must be the ongoing war that Goél told us about.”

  “They don’t look too good,” Josh agreed. “From what I understand, they’ve had a hard time of it and are on the brink of being wiped out by the Zorians.”

  The soldier led them to a palace made of reddish stone. It stretched up toward the sky, and its windows were all barred. “Visitors to see the king,” their guide announced. “They have a letter from His Majesty himself.”

  A big, well-built man wearing a dark green uniform and a helmet made of silver said, “I will see to it. How go things at the front?”

  “As always,” the officer said gloomily. He turned his weary animal around and headed back for the front lines.

  “I will have your horses cared for,” the guard said. “My name is Dreban. I will take you to the king at once.”

  Josh slipped off his horse and found that his legs were aching and numb from the long ride. He glanced with envy at Reb, who hopped off his mount as cheerfully and easily as if he had made only a half-hour’s ride.

  The Sleepers followed the soldier through the gates. When they entered the palace, Josh was impressed with the beauty of it all. There were carvings of white ivory everywhere, and beautiful statues rested on high pedestals. All of the palace help were clothed in dark green. A beautiful curving staircase took them to the second floor. From time to time the walls were broken with long, narrow, barred windows. Guards were posted at almost every door.

  And then their soldier came to a double door. He nodded at the two guards, who stepped aside, and he knocked. He waited for a moment, and then the door opened. “Visitors from outside, sir,” he announced. “They have a letter from the king himself.”

  The old man who had answered the door stepped back. “Come in,” he said. He waited until the Seven Sleepers had entered, then said, “My name is Dethenor. I am master of the High Council of the king.”

  Josh produced the king’s letter, and Dethenor studied it. At once he said, “You are welcome here. You come at a needy time.”

  “On the way, we passed through the land of Zor. They seem to be preparing for a new attack.”

  “Indeed they are,” Dethenor said wearily. “We are in a dreary time.” Then the old man brightened. “But come. I will take you to the king and the queen. They will welcome your presence.”

  Josh and the others followed the old man, and he led them through several large rooms. Finally he stood briefly at a carved door before opening it. “The king is not well,” he said. “We must not disturb him for long.”

  “Of course not, sir. We would not wish to do that.”

  When they entered, Josh saw that the king was resting on a kind of couch. It had a back that supported him. His face was kind but lined with pain. Beside him an older woman stood, one of the most beautiful that Josh had ever seen.

  “King Alquin and Queen Lenore, I present to you our visitors. You may introduce yourselves.”

  Josh stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty and Queen Lenore, I am Josh Adams.” He named the other Sleepers and then said, “We have been asked by our master, Goél, to lend you what assistance we can.”

  The king and queen exchanged smiles, and then King Alquin turned his eyes back to study his young visitors. “The Seven Sleepers. Indeed, we had asked Goél for help, and we are grateful to him for sending you. We have heard of your exploits.”

  “Perhaps if you would tell us the problem,” Josh said, “we can make some plans.”

  “The problem is not difficult to explain,” the king said wearily. He went on to tell about the long war between his country and Zor. “We are ringed in here by mountains, and the mountains have protected us. But the Zorians are wearing us down. They are a larger people than we, and it takes all of our strength simply to keep them fought off.”

  “Have you considered attacking?” Josh asked. “It seems to me you give them the advantage by just sitting here and waiting for them to ‘wear you down.’”

  “That was my plan until I was wounded,” the king said. “Things were going well, but since that time we have made no progress.”

  Josh and the other Sleepers listened as the king explained further.

  Then Josh said, “It still seems to me, sire, that your only hope is in attack. Perhaps cutting through the lines and establishing a base outside so that you can keep the Zorians away from the mountain passes?”

  “That would require great skill and a great leader—which we do not have.” Queen Lenore spoke quietly. “As long as my husband was at the head of the army, such a thing was possible. But now I’m afraid we cannot count on that.”

  “What about your son? I understand he is old enough to be a warrior.”

  At once the king lowered his eyes, and the queen seemed to flinch. Josh glanced at Dethenor, and the old man shook his head slightly.

  It was the queen who said, “We may as well be honest with you. You have come to help us, and the truth is always best. Our son, Alexander, has been a disappointment to us. He has taken no interest in his responsibilities to the kingdom, and he spends his time only in pleasure.”

  Josh saw that the admission hurt the queen, and he said quickly, “It takes longer for some young people to grow up than others, Your Highness. Perhaps he is right on the verge. In any case, our master, Goél, indicated that we should try to be an encouragement to your son.”

  An eager look came into the queen’s eyes. “Did he especially ask you to do that? If you could only stir Alexander to an effort, it would make such a difference. Our people need kingly leadership.”

  “True,” King Alquin said. “I’m not growing any younger, and my wounds are grievous. Talk to our son. Encourage him. See what you can do. He is really our only hope.”

  “We will do our best.” Josh bowed. “If you will have someone take us to the prince—”

  “We do not have a happy situation,” Queen Lenore said. “He is being held in his room now because of his arrogant behavior toward his father. But you certainly may see him. I will go with you and inform the guards that you are to be admitted at any time.”

  The Seven Sleepers all bowed, and they left the room with the queen.

  Queen Lenore led them up two more flights and down a long, ornate hallway. Two guards stood at what seemed to be the prince’s door. “Any of these young people are to be admitted into the quarters of the prince at any time,” the queen told them.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” one said at once.

  She turned back to the Sleepers. “I can only hope that you will find a way t
o soften his heart.”

  Josh said, “Your Majesty, I was thinking as we walked up here—it might be a bit too much if all seven of us descend upon Prince Alexander at once. Perhaps only Sarah and I should visit him just now.”

  “That is wisely said. Meantime, I will take your friends to your quarters.”

  As the others moved on down the hall, Joshua nodded to the guards. “I think we’d like to go in now.”

  A guard knocked on the door, then opened it. He called out, “Two visitors for you, my prince.”

  Josh and Sarah entered and saw by the window a tall young man with thick, long auburn hair. He had a well-shaped face and blue eyes. He was perhaps a little heavy, but he looked strong and fit.

  “Who are you, and what do you want?”

  “My name is Josh Adams, and this is Sarah Collingwood, Prince Alexander.”

  “What is your business with me?” the prince asked coldly.

  Sarah spoke up. “We have come at the request of your father. He sent a letter to Goél for help, and Goél sent us. Are you familiar with him?”

  “Of course. My parents serve him, and I suppose I will someday.” Prince Alexander stared at them, and puzzlement came to his eyes. “But why would my father send for children? I can understand sending for soldiers to fight. But what good can you do?”

  Josh almost asked, “What good are you doing?” but he bit his tongue while Sarah answered. “We have been able to help others from time to time. You may have heard of the Seven Sleepers …”

  Recognition came to the young prince’s eyes, and he grunted. At that moment a small dog bounced barking into the room from an opposite doorway. She was a golden-haired dog with bright eyes. The prince picked her up. “Be quiet, Shasta,” he said, stroking her silky fur. Then he nodded slightly. “Yes. I have heard of the Seven Sleepers. Tall tales, I’ve always thought, about fighting with monsters and winning battles. I can’t believe two such as you could do much of that.”