Chapter 14 Kingly Conversation

Colors radiated through the palace windows making brushes of color on the silverware.  The deep mahogany tables and chairs gave luster off their waxy finish.

Queen Lydia was beaming.  Seeing her mother alive had seemed to awaken her spirit.  She noticed that all the girls were watching her and took full advantage to teach them the manners of nobility.  She carefully unfolded her napkin, and nodded to the servants as they poured water and wine.  With a quick smile and glance, she graciously prepared everyone for the blessing.   After King Titus had given thanks, the Queen gestured to them beginning the conversation by asking our companions how the day had gone.

“Molly, please give my compliments.  The produce seems as fresh as ever,” said the King with a smile.

“Thank you sire,” replied Molly.  “We are so honored and blessed to serve under such a gracious King.  Even the farmers in the field feel confident while you are on the throne.  We saw Brownbeard today and it seems that he has been given a son!”

Both the King in the Queen clapped their hands together.  “Ah, that is news indeed!  Twombly, would you extend an invitation to the Palace for the Friday night feast.  Tell Brownbeard I want his entire family including any infants.”

“Now, Molly, you have said that I am a gracious King.  I am honored by this.  But can you tell me… what is the real difference between a good King and a bad King?

“You are a good King,” said Molly.  “That much is sure.  You treat your servants with respect so that everyone wants to work in the Palace, but you constantly find ways to help the local people.  Most of the farmers would gladly give you their produce in exchange for the peace and safety you provide them.”

“Ahh, thank you,” said the King.  Him You have touched upon one major quality of a good King: he seeks ways to provide for his people.  What else can you ladies think of?”

“Sire, a good King will defend his people,” said Mercy.  “I mean… from invaders and armies, right?”

“Okay, Mercy,” said the King.  “So here is a difficulty.  Many kings have armies.  In fact, I have never heard of a king who didn’t have an Army.  But the question is, what does that Army defend?”

“Well, in your case I suppose it defends the city of Adelphia.”

“Right you are.  So the question is,  am I my just defending my Palace?   or am I finding a way to defend all the people in my kingdom?”

“You must defend your people!”  said Malachi.

“Well said, well said, lad,” answered the King, turning his large hazel eyes to look directly into Malachi’s.  “The trouble is, many kings simply defend their own interests.   But now, there is something else the King must defend if he is truly to be a good King.”

Titus paused and looked around at the children smiling broadly.

It was Molly who spoke up.  “Sire,” she said meekly.  It was obvious that she loved her King but felt shy to speak up.  Titus looked at her with an encouraging smile.  “A good King defends the church!”  Her voice gained confidence as she said this until she was smiling broadly back at the King.

“That is the point most kings miss,” said Titus softly.  “Think of it this way.  If the church is the bride of God, don’t you think he will smile on a king who will defend and protect his bride?  Would you smile on a king who would not protect you bride?”

Strong understanding filled Malachi.  He began to understand some of those things dad had said about protecting and defending his sisters.

Pics of our Characters

This gallery contains 5 photos.

This gallery contains 6 photos.

Sneaky Business

Scrapper turned his head and looked at Duman who was exactly one block behind.  This was all that Duman needed.  Scrapper was going to turn left and it was safe for him to proceed.  Duman and listener had developed a system with Scrapper.  They would track somebody and the dog would go one block ahead.  If the one they were tracking had kept going, Scrapper would simply look back and turn the corner.  But, if the one they were tracking was finally in sight, Scrapper would stop and raise his right forepaw.

Scrapper had grey fur and mishmash breeding:  somewhere between Scottish Terrier and Collie  (though in Highpattern  it wasn’t called Scottish, but, hey, I’m the narrator and I’m just trying to describe things to you).  He was so purposeful and harmless looking as he trotted down the streets of Adelphia, that people rarely gave him a second glance.  Those who were bidden of the King to trap animals in the city (the occasional stray fox or wolf hunting for livestock) knew scrapper as a Palace dog.

So they would track.  Scrapper always one block ahead of Duman.  After about 12 blocks of this, Scrapper turned a corner which led to a shipping yard by the river.  Here,  Scrapper raise the right forepaw.  Duman had to think quickly.  He assumed that the men might possibly come back to Brownbeard’s  stand and attempt some sabotage.  “No, the man knows he was spotted.  They won’t come back,”  he thought.

Duman silently signaled for scrapper to come back.  Then, ever so quietly, he moved toward the river….

Of Palace Vegetables, Brownbeard and Becoming Unnoticed

On Tuesday, when they had finished their morning routines in the Palace, Duman stood outside their chambers asking for an audience.  He had brought along Scrapper and Malachi.

“Scrapper!”  said Martha, hugging the dog.

“Can you ladies be spared from Palace finery to go visit a friend?”  said Duman.

“I don’t know, seems like the last time we followed you we got into lots of trouble!”  laughed Mercy.

Duman led them by lesser used corridors and paths down to the Palace gate.  He made easy gestures to the guards stationed at various points along their way.

Mercy noticed many things about the guards.  She could see that they used a whole code of hand signals so that no word needed to be spoken.  They silently rotated positions at irregular intervals.  They were clothed with very practical with close-fitting armor and overcoats of brown, green and gray.

“Any news this morning?”  asked Mercy.

“Plans for the pilgrimage are moving forward.  I understand that we will try to leave during the night next Tuesday– seven days from now.  The idea will be to leave the city as little noticed as possible.  But, never mind that for now.  Follow me.  I have plans for today! “

When they reached the drawbridge, Duman once again signaled the guards.  He spoke in low voices to them.

“The guards have noticed a couple of unfriendly pairs of eyes who may be watching your movements.  I apologize for this, but we are going to go back in and dress up as kitchen servants going to obtain food in the markets.  We have some young apprentices back in the kitchen who approximate your size and weight.”

The children began to realize that though many people in Adelphia were unassuming and glad for the discovery of the Patternstone, they were still in a real struggle.  The struggle was for the establishment of patterns of worship and festivity.  Chaozlog had spies.

“In order to begin the pilgrimage unnoticed, we must try ways of disguising you.  We want to get you on your way out of Adelphia unseen.  One thing that happens on Tuesdays is that vegetables and meats are bought and sold from the surrounding farmers.  We have to find a farmer to work with, and I think I know just the one…” Duman trailed off.

Inside the large gate before the drawbridge, there was an alcove with what looked like an iron grate in the floor for drainage.  Two guards removed the grate to show a set of stairs descending into darkness.  Duman signaled the companions to follow him down.  He lit a small torch and reminded them to stay close to him.

“Is this one of the passages the King uses?”  asked Malachi.

“Yes, the Royal family and the inner guard.  Now quietly,” whispered Duman.

The companions had to go in single file.  Scrapper sniffed about 10 paces ahead.  After a few turns they felt warm air coming toward their faces.  It smelled like onions.  “It’ll be rabbit stew today,” Duman said in a quiet voice.  He signaled a halt.  “Malachi,” he said, “ just out of curiosity, I would have a look at your sword.  It will let us know whether there are any enemies in the Palace which derive their magical powers from Chaozlog.”

Duman took a clay pot which was at the side of the passage along with other useful items such as swords and axes and carefully put it over the torch flame.  “Now draw,” he said.

Malachi did so.  There was no light at all coming from the sword.

“The Adelphia stone has done its job well,” Duman mused.  He pulled the clay pot from his torch.  “I may ask you this question many times, Malachi,” he said.  “In fact, tonight, you and I will carefully walk around the city with your sword.  Are you up for that?”

“With you?  I love doing things with you.”  Malachi responded with obvious affection in his eyes.

“We are going into the kitchen,” continued Duman.  As they began to ascend toward the heat, a man dressed in a leather apron and leather gloves waved and made a hand signal to Duman.

“This is Barnabas, the oven keeper,” said Duman.

“How do you do?”  He reached out a warm hand to the children.  It was about five times the size of Malachi’s.

“I want to keep this as close as is possible, Barnabas,”  Said Duman.  “I’d like these children to do the produce run.  Is that possible?”

“Er, sure,” said Barnabas.  “So long as you take my own youngsters to help make the picks.”

“Brownbeard?”

“He’ll be there.”

“Good.  15 minutes?”

“That’ll be about right, sir.”  Said Barnabas.  “Molly!”  He called. A girl with bright red pigtails came in wiping her hands.    “I want these three children to dressed as produce snappers.”

“Yes, father,” said the girl.  “They’ll want the woolen cloaks today as the wind’s coming from the sea.”

“Perfect.”  Said Duman.  “The more covered they are, the better.”

“I’m sure you won’t mind a little bit of extra labor today, will you, Molly?”

“Oh, no Sir!”  She said with a big smile toward the companions.

“Bring your brother here and we need to swear everyone to secrecy.”

Behind the Palace kitchen, there was a pantry room.  During times of siege and winter, it needed to have room for great store.  The main room was more than 100 ft.²   In addition, there was a ramp leading down 20 feet into the ground for root cellar storage.  The root cellar was carefully crafted so as to be above the water level of the Palace moat.

Barnabas led everyone down to the root cellar.  Here Duman explained the mission to Barnabas, Molly and her brother Peter.  He swore them to secrecy.  The companions were given the livery of kitchen servants.

“Take the two pony wagon,” said Barnabas to Peter who looked to be about 14 years old.  “We’ll need to get plenty of produce  to make it look like we need five hands.”

Soon the companions found themselves riding in the back of a large empty wagon across the drawbridge and down into the city of Adelphia.  They did not use the main street as they had used in procession from the Cathedral, but rather what seem to be more of a service road.  The wide road had gentle switchbacks wending its way to Cathedral square.  Along the way, they noticed several blacksmith shops, tanners, carpenters and stonemasons.  Wagons were coming and going laden with various farming supplies.

Scrapper trotted out alongside the ponies, obviously enjoying himself.  He would detour occasionally to smell something along side of the road.  Occasionally, he would run ahead to investigate some people.  Scrapper wore Palace livery– doggy style.  It identified him and the people seemed to know that he was coming along with the produce wagon today as he did occasionally.

On this morning, Cathedral square was by no means empty.  It was full of produce vendors bringing in their wares from the country surrounding.  Duman did not hesitate, but guided the cart deliberately to a produce stand marked “Brownbeard and Daughters”.

Duman strode and exchanged hearty handshakes with Brownbeard. His girth exceeded that of most men and his sword belt was large.  The two men laughed chortled over the latest things that they had seen or read about.   The man had many daughters who were very busy arranging the produce:  squash, butter beans, rhubarb and kale to name a few.   At the center, a barrel of ale which Brownbeard would proudly proffer to his regular customers.

There was some talk in the town that Brownbeard had recently had his first son.    Speculations were made as to whether there would be a company name change forthcoming.  Brownbeard’s philosophy was simple:  give them brown ale and let them choose the produce.

Peter and Molly went with Malachi,  Mercy and Martha to teach them how to pick out produce.

“See how this broccoli’s green and firm?”  Said Molly.  “You want to put the heads in the basket like this–“ (she demonstrated how to layer it with damp cheesecloth for the ride back to the palace).

“Here is some more cheesecloth, miss,” said a voice.  “We keep it in ice water whenever we can.  There’s still plenty of ice on Mount Carmel this time of year.  Papa sends Anni to climb up there and get it.”

“Thank you!”  Said Molly.  “That’ll keep the broccoli fresher than fresh!”  She gave deep courtesy to the girl at the stand.  “Missed you last week, Millie.”

“We had to bring the goats all the way up to the mountain pastures,” said the young lady.  She had dark hair and dark eyes with a countenance that was fiercely good.  It was as if she was bound and determined to serve others with zeal. “It’s amazing how you can see the stars from up there!  And who is your friend?”

Following suit, Mercy gave courtesy as well.  Only when she did so, were her eyes level with Millie’s.  “My name is Mercy Jones, and I am in training to work for the Palace kitchen,” replied Mercy, remembering to stay in character.

“Hmmm…, Your accent seems different,” said Millie.  “Lots of strange goings-on this week…”  She winked at Mercy. “But I’m glad to see the gargoyles back on their gutter spouts!  “She said, changing the subject and pointing to Zlig, Zlag and Zlog sunning themselves near the archway above.

When Mercy followed Millie’s finger, she noticed the three but then she also noticed something that wasn’t right.  On the other side of the archway, the three corresponding gargoyles were missing. Mercy was tempted to call attention to them, but remembered the need for diplomacy and secrecy.  She made a mental note to tell Duman as soon as she could.

“How do you get the lid to stay on?”  Mercy asked, hoping to change the topic.

Molly demonstrated how to top off the stalks of broccoli and latch the lid.  “How are the leeks and onions?”

“It’s been a little dry,” said Millie.   “We planted a second square of onions this year in a low spot.  It was a good idea even though they’d get wiped out in heavy rain, but if it’s dry, we still have onions!”

For the first time, Mercy noticed a man dressed like most of the townspeople with worn linen shirt and brown knickers going through the produce very near to them.  She was not sure how much of their conversation he had overheard, but she wondered if he was trying to overhear.  To test this theory, she asked Molly if there was another type of produce that she could work on.  Careful to have her back to the stranger, she winked at Molly as she said this.

Molly understood.  She took Mercy 20 yards away to begin going through the potatoes, asking Millie to finish the leeks.  Sure enough, the man quickly shifted to sweet potatoes which were again quite near to them.

“Keep doing potatoes and fake your response to what I say next,” said Mercy below a whisper.

Molly nodded.

“You know, it’s really amazing the way things happen around the Patternstone!”  said Mercy in a louder more casual voice.  “Why, I heard the King was going to make a special box for it.”

“Really?”  Said Molly.  “What kind of box?”

As Mercy responded, (“I think he’s going to use mahogany”) she definitely noticed the man’s attentiveness.  He was good at what he did.  He managed to keep putting sweet potatoes in his basket, but his body language gave him away.  He was listening.  Mercy looked over and noticed that Duman was still laughing with Brownbeard, but that he was looking toward the girls.  Mercy adjusted her body position away from the man who was spying and tried to catch Duman’s attention with her hand, all the while continuing to work on potatoes.  Duman looked at her keenly and nodded.  She had succeeded.

Brownbeard and to Duman strolled over to the man.

“Can I help you to find some of the best?”  Asked Brownbeard.  “Where might you be from?”

The man was obviously uncomfortable.  Mercy and Molly quickly moved back over toward the leeks and onions where Millie was finishing up.  Duman and Brownbeard were standing either side of the man who was obviously frustrated at not being able to hear the girls conversation.

The girls loaded produce for another 15 minutes.  Malachi joined them, having polished off one of the largest apples he had been able to procure.  The girls looked over and noticed that the spy had paid for his produce and was leaving.  As soon as the man had trundled off around the corner, Duman came over to the girls.  Mercy quickly explained to Duman how the man had been listening to their conversation.

“I’ll have to track him,” said Duman.  “That’s Brego over there,” he said, pointing to a guard in Palace livery.  “The guards will be on the alert.  Just keep packing produce.”

Quickly, he patted his leg three times and Scrapper ran over looking up at Duman expectantly.  Off they trotted around the corner by which the man had left.

“Now I know that something is up,” said Millie, smiling at Mercy.

“Oh Millie,” said Mercy with a sigh.  “I’m beginning to realize that secrecy is pretty important in all this stuff.  I’d love to tell you all about it, but I need to talk with the others first.  Can you keep what you have seen and heard to yourself for now?”

“Yes… but you gotta know I’m real curious.”

Brownbeard, Peter and Martha had strolled over after packing the turnips and squash.  “My instructions were to send you back to the Palace with the guards,” said Brownbeard.  “Where there is one person up to no good, there may very well be more.  Let’s be as relaxed as possible and finish loading the wagon.  Peter, you know how to drive it?”

For the next half hour or so they packed produce quickly and efficiently.  Millie and Molly showed Martha and Mercy how to load the baskets with the hardier vegetables on the bottom and the delicate ones on the top –and never above the top.

As they were working, Millie spoke quietly to Mercy.  “Here,” she said, “take this.  I made it.”  She handed Mercy a beautifully crocheted scarf.  The quality of the stitching was very even and practiced.  “My dad says you will be going on pilgrimage with the Patternstone.”  She had lowered her voice even more.  “I want to go with you.  I want to see the Aragite weavers. “

“Oh, I hope so!”  Said Mercy, pausing to give Millie a hug.  “I know that there will be a counsel to decide who goes.  Would your dad let you come to the Council?”

“All I can do is ask.”

“Yes,” said Mercy, “have you ever been to Phesus?”

“No, I have grown up farming and bringing produce to the Palace here at Adelphia all my life.  But you hear people talk.  Phesus has the biggest harbor in highpattern.  It sits at the east end of the Lediterranean Sea.  They have an outdoor theater, temples to false gods, and that the biggest library in highpattern.”

“Can you read?”  Asked Mercy.  (She had noticed that the people in highpattern were still using scrolls and it didn’t seem like everyone could read).

“Every time we bring produce up to the Palace, or over to the Cathedral, I always ask Ezra or Amos to teach me.  They send me home with scraps of scroll.  I teach my sisters.  Ezra gives me histories about dragons and great battles and princesses….  “

At this point Millie was cut short by Peter.  “Wagon’s full,”  he said.  “Everyone in.”

“I want Peter and Molly leading the ponies,” said Brownbeard.  “Part of the Palace guard has arrived, but they will follow at a distance.  You three need to get in here.”  He showed them a place between boxes of produce.  “If Peter and Molly holler to you, be ready to jump out the back.  But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.  The more normal we can keep things, the better.”

Malachi stepped forward and gave Brownbeard a hug.  “You think Duman will be okay?”  He asked.

“Oh, yes I should say so.  Keep your chin up, laddie.  Now in you go.”

“Are you coming up to the Palace soon Millie?”  asked Mercy from the rear of the wagon.

“We bring produce for the festival on Friday.”  Millie replied waving.

As the wagon progressed through the streets up to the Palace, it could be seen that the royal escort was very watchful.  The comrades bounced along with the many vegetables.

“This stuff smells really good,” said Martha.  She had ended up with her face right near a bunch of basil.  The four donkeys were obviously working hard to make it up the winding road.

“I think Millie knows where we’re going for the next Cathedral,” said Mercy lying on a pile of potatoes.  “She’s read all about it.  If we get to choose some of our companions, let’s see if she wants to come.”

“What did she say?”  Asked Martha.

“She said that Phesus was a seaport town with a big library and outdoor theaters.”

The companions felt a sense of relief as the wagon safely re-entered the Palace storerooms.  They helped Molly unload and worked in the kitchen for the rest of the day.  Molly showed them how to slice and dice the vegetables in preparation for the cooks.

When Twombly came to request the children make themselves ready for dinner, Martha asked, “May we invite Molly to dine with us?”

“Certainly,”  said Twombly.  “All the palace staff has days off to rest.   I’m sure we can arrange this.”

“I’ll put on my best dress.”  Said Molly joyfully.  “See you soon.”

 

Chapter 12 The Plight of Queens

When the service had ended, Phoebe and Labesh took hold of our companions by the hand and encouraged them to remain in the alcove (otherwise known as a “Chapel”) in which they had been seated.  They watched the cheerful villagers filter out into the square.

To Mercy, the large Adelphia Cathedral almost seemed like a happy living being.  The grand organist continued to play soft and cheerfully.  It was just enough to encourage you to take most of your conversation out into the square, lest you make your throat raw from speaking over the music.

“Martha, look!”  She said.  The King and Queen were processing out surrounded by large retinue of Palace guards.  For the first time, the girls noticed that the Queen was being carried.  It was not that she was carried so as to look like a pompous, triumphant parading Cleopatra type, but rather, right next to her husband the King, she was simply carried on a small chair supported by staves and carried by four guards.

After the great organ played its last note, the Cathedral fell into a restful ‘hush’.  A few scattered townspeople remained in various places praying or talking quietly.  The pictures in the stained-glass windows were very fully recognizable now at midday.

Phoebe and Labesh were talking in hushed tones.  The girls turned around expectantly to see if it was time for them to go.  As they did, they noticed for the first time the stained-glass window directly behind them.  It depicted a young warrior withstanding a fierce dragon.  He was resisting the dragon’s powerful, tongue of fire with a shield while preparing his sword for a stroke.  But what made the picture different was a woman seated off to the side holding out the Patternstone.  It’s rays were illuminating the dragon.

The girls tried to identify the woman, but her flowing cloak and vail made the woman ambiguous.  The warrior too was ambiguous, being covered in armor.

Phoebe spoke up, “it might be a picture of you.”  She spoke these words with deliberate calmness.

“I want to be that warrior!”  said Malachi with a somber expression.

“You’re too little,” said the girls in unison.

“Don’t discourage him,” Labesh said with a smile.  “You never know…”

The party began to walk down into the Cathedral.  It was time to leave.  As Martha drew near to the center of the floor, she found the Patternstone humming in the bodice.  Not knowing what prompted her, she took it out and there was a bright flash as it illuminated the Adelphia stone floor once more.  Her eyes were commandingly drawn to the face of the Patternstone.  It began to play a little movie again.  They all gathered round this time.

In the screen was another large cathedral.  In contrast to the bright, sunny joyful day they were in, the atmosphere at this Cathedral was charged with dark foreboding.  The gargoyles here were not smiling in the sun on their gutter spouts.  They were flying and circling like vultures on their prey.

“That’ll be the Cathedral at Phesus,” said Labesh.

As they looked, the faces of the people outside the cathedral seemed very indifferent.  The people were not looking up and so did not notice the gargoyles.  It was as if doom was coming to that city and the people were blissfully ignorant.  There was another flash, and then the Patternstone was simply reflecting beautiful rays of light and their own faces.

“It’s calling us,” said Malachi.  “We have to bring it there.”

“Children, look at me,” said Labesh.  “As you know, I am keeper of the royal wardrobe, as I was also for Queen Tirzah.  She and I used to watch the little pictures in the Patternstone.  This is how she learned to go on pilgrimage.  The Patternstone would show her where to go next.  I think somehow you are to go to Phesus if you are willing.”

“But what about Queen Lydia?” said Martha.  “She is the queen.  I must give the Patternstone to her!  This is her job.”

“I cannot say more at this time,” said Labesh.  “There is a summons for you to meet with her this very afternoon.  Let us go.”

They walked under the large Gothic archway which opened into the foyer or narthex first and then out into the square.  The archway was carved beautifully with people and animals as if to tell stories.  The transition from the belly of the Cathedral out into the sunlight felt like stepping out of a comfortable armchair.  Martha couldn’t help looking back from the archway.  The peace that now radiated from the interior seemed to warm her bones.

On the Cathedral steps, along with the twittering of bluebirds, Labesh gently broke the hush, “We’ll be going back to the cloisters. We need to examine you again to see that you are fully healed before he returned to the Palace.”

The party walked around to the left side of the Cathedral, under the flying buttresses.  Flagstones had been carefully laid in a slightly curving pattern through azaleas and rhododendrons and other smaller gardens.  Stone benches frequented the alcoves.  Mercy thought of all the conversations that must’ve been enjoyed in these places.

Looking up, the children had to crane their necks to see the gargoyles.  Some happy, some sad, some strange: all at the ends of buttresses: ready to spout water when it rained.  They were struck by the immensity of the building itself.  It felt a bit like a giant sleeping dinosaur –snoring in the wind.

As the party reached the cloisters, a guard handed a message to Labesh.  She read it aloud to the children as they return to their rooms. “It is requested that Mercy, Martha and Malachi dine with the King and Queen again this feast day, if they are well and rested,”  Labesh read aloud.  “Are you ready for a nap?” she asked.  “The Royal couple says that you must be rested!”  She gave them meaningful smile.

Truth be told, exhaustion had taken its toll upon them.  The soft flax seed beds were calling.

When they awoke, the sun’s golden rays were streaking through the western facing windows.  Phoebe had tea kettles singing.  The smell of herbs and various preparations filled the apartments.

“Duman will be here to escort you to the Palace,” said Labesh.

Soon, as they walked through the winding streets, they felt a little awkward being protected by several guards.  But Duman helped them to relax–chatting with them as they walked.

“It’s going to be a long healing time for Listener and Miriam,” he said in response to the children’s questioning.  “I do think they will live.”

Cheers began to go up from some of the townspeople as they noticed the party.  More and more faces lined the wide street leading from the Cathedral to the Palace.  Some of the people wanted to shake their hands, but this was prevented by guards.

“Don’t be alarmed,” said Duman.  “The guards are for your protection.  Try to wave and smile.”

Scrapper, who was trotting alongside, suddenly veered to the right and stood still growling.  When he did so, the children noticed the man called Rasha among the crowd.  It was as if Scrapper had sensed that something was not right.

“Congratulations children,” Rasha intoned with a painted smile.

Duman simply gave a low whistle calling Scrapper back.  He paid no attention to Rasha, but continued walking steadily and evenly.  When they had gone perhaps another 50 yards, he spoke to the children, “Miriam told me that she taught you about the ‘diplomatic face’?  Yes?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Well, think of this as a diplomatic walk.  You must learn to continue on your course no matter who is staring at you.  Be aware without giving any hints that you are aware.  Do you take my meaning?”

The huge front gate and drawbridge to the Palace stood open, beckoning to the party.  The companions gave a final wave to the townspeople who now stood over 100 strong at the end of the thoroughfare.  All the faces seemed thankful and encouraging.   Martha had worn the sky blue dress with soft palace slippers on her feet. She now felt the rough beams of the drawbridge under the leather.  The timbers were quite warm because of the heat of the day.  As they transitioned through into the Palace, the cool stone of the Palace floor was a welcome relief.

The retinue of guards dispersed taking up stations in the corridors and what seem to be a prearranged play-by-play.  Hand signals were exchanged.  Before the companions entered the great Hall, mercy asked if they could look once more upon the picture of Tizrah the Queen.  There she was again, wearing the Patternstone.  The deep eyes, the expression which called to the children.  It was calling them to reverent fear, to be awake and alert.  To prepare themselves.

The evening meal was not as crowded in the Hall this time.  Looking up, the children could see that some hasty prepared repairs made to the upper windows.  As before, the dogs came and sniffed.  Fiddle music was playing softly.

The King and Queen were smiling warmly as the children approached the royal table.  This time, they were escorted to sit directly across from the Royal couple.

“Welcome again, children!” said King Titus. “Please eat and be merry.”

When the guests had been seated, King Titus led the singing of a Psalm, gave a blessing and simply began to put food on his plate.  Never before had the children been so motivated to mind the forks and napkins!  The gaze of the King and Queen was not discomforting or even stern.  But they did not speak simply enjoying the food in silence.

When everyone had begun to eat their fill, the King asked, “are you children beginning to feel recovered from your adventure yesterday?”

“Yes sire.  We are quite well thank you.”  Answered Mercy.

“Well, my Queen?”  Said Titus to Lydia.

Lydia began to speak.  As she did so, the children felt sadness and depth in her tone.  “I have spent many hours in prayer since you children arrived in Highpattern.  I feared for your life when you went through the labyrinth.  I would like for you children to be able to remain in the protection of the Palace.  It would be my wish that you could remain here: to be taught the ways of Adelphia.  To learn and grow.”

She paused, and Martha was thinking, “yes, yes that would be wonderful.  We will gladly stay here and be taught the ways of the Palace!”  But somehow she knew that she was not to speak yet.

After meeting each of their gazes, Queen Lydia continued, “Alas!  The Adelphia stone has been restored, and that is a great victory, but…” (she looked at them meaningfully) “it only begins the struggle.  The other six stones surrounding the Patternstone must be matched to their corresponding cathedrals.”

She paused again.  Even Malachi did not play with his silverware.  The fiddle music wafted into the conversation. Suddenly, Martha reached inside her bodice and handed the necklace to the Queen.

“My lady,” Martha said with a bow, “as your mother wore it before you, so may you wear it now.”

Queen Lydia stared at the necklace in front of her, letting it rest on the table and making no move to put it on.  “Children,” she said, “please come around the table.”

When they did so, they were astonished to see that the Queen had pulled up her queenly robes for them to see her lower legs.  “Do not be embarrassed,” she said.  One leg was perfectly normal and graceful, but the other was wooden.  “So you see,” she said, “I cannot undertake the pilgrimage.”

Without the least bit of recoil, Martha ran up to Queen Lydia and gave her a big hug.  “Is it okay to sit in your lap?  Does it hurt?”  Martha’s little hands gently stroked the Queen’s brow smoothing wrinkles of care and pain.

“No, it doesn’t hurt child.  Thank you for sitting in my lap and hugging me,” replied Queen Lydia.  I’m so glad to find someone who doesn’t treat me as though I was made of China or dried tea leaves.”  Tears streaked down her face.

“So, why can’t you take the necklace?” asked Martha.  “It would look beautiful on you.”

The Queen took a few more minutes to recover from her tears.  “Well, bless God for giving us a good cry once in a while!”  Then she looked directly into Martha’s eyes.  “I could wear it, but I would not be able to complete the task.  On me, it would simply be an ornament that would teach the people for a time, but eventually if it does not go on pilgrimage to all seven cathedrals, it only becomes something to draw evil.  A temptation for evil men.”

“What would they be tempted to do?”  Asked Martha.

“They would be tempted to take it.  Chaozlog the black would pay dearly for it and simply hoard it in the caves of Chaos.  The biggest goal of evil in the world is generally not what men think.  The goal is that they would forget the patterns given to them by God in the way he made the world and the way he reveals himself.  In Highpattern, the necklace serves as a great reminder.”

“When I was a little girl, I wanted nothing more than to go on pilgrimage with the necklace.  But, it was not to be.  As I continued to prepare for this, riding horses, reading the histories, worshiping and feasting with my parents, there began to be more and more reports of Chaos coming from other kingdoms.  We heard that some had stopped gathering for festivity and some were not even going to Cathedral.

My mother was a beautiful Queen!  She gave me the most precious gift in the world.  She taught me how to love others.  She showed me how to sacrifice my own comforts for the good of other people.”

“Yes, yes said Martha.  We saw her …uh, I mean the paintings of her… in the corridors.  Do those paintings have magical properties?  She seemed to be communicating to us.”

“My mother may not be dead.  She fled for her life at the time the Patternstone was taken.  Sometimes I feel her talking to me when I look at those paintings as well.  It’s more like a memory — when she talks to me, it echoes in my mind.  How I long for her to come out of the paintings.  I long for her to hug me and stroke my hair like she did when I was a girl.  How she used to shoo Labesh out of the room!”

Mercy piped in.  “Queen Lydia, ma’am.”  The queen gestured for her to continue.  “Maybe your mother would speak to us if we went now to the painting.”

“Yes.  I hadn’t thought of that.”  The Queen gently raised her hand and was given immediate attention by Twombly.  “We would like an escort to the painting alcove.”

“Yes Madam.”

Very quickly, four men in Palace livery came to carry Queen Lydia.  Her chair had rings for staves similar to the Ark of Israel in the Bible.  The guards simply pulled the staves through the rings and the four men picked up the Queen.  The hallway suddenly grew quiet.  Everyone stood.  The gentleman bowed and the ladies gave courtesy.

King Titus stood proposing a toast for the successful placement of the Adelphia stone.  He gestured to the three children and also to Duman at an adjacent table, commending their bravery.  Cheers went up in the Hall and Martha held up the Patternstone.

The Queen gracefully waved and smiled.  The three children were actually able to walk alongside her chair in between the guards. The retinue of the royal party continued through the corridors until they reached the alcove.  Here, the largest painting of Queen Tirzah was watching them.  The Patternstone shone brightly:  both in the painting and the real one Martha was wearing.

As they stood in front of the painting, a dreamy light atmosphere filled the alcove.  The necklace seemed to hum with excitement.  Martha held it out in her hand.  There was a bit of a joyous quality.  It was as if the angelic choirs were singing in the background.  “What do we do now?”  Asked Martha.

Queen Lydia thought for a moment.  “ My mother used to speak a command.  Try a command. “

Of course, the command that was foremost in Martha’s mind was, “Show us where Queen Tirzah is!”

At this command, the Patternstone went black and still.  The Angels stopped singing.  The contrast in the atmosphere was so sharp that everyone gasped.

“Gather round,” said Martha.  As they huddled, they beheld in the flat seven sided facet Patternstone another little movie.  They saw a cave entrance in the side of a dark mountain.  There were rumblings as if a volcano was nearby.  The little video took them through the cave entrance and into a large iron door with a troll sitting in front of it.

“It’s taking us into the cave entrance, right past the troll!” said Martha excitedly.

“Twombly!” said Queen Lydia.  “Jot down all you can.”

Twombly busily removed a wooden slate from his side bag and tapped his quill pen.

“Left just past the entrance.  Second door.    Key needed…” Queen Lydia kept speaking as the vision moved forward.  “Now straight ahead 20-30… 30 feet then to the right…”

After approximately 3 right-hand turns in seven left hand turns, the vision had descended a set of stairs and came to a very dark cell.  In there, on the floor, they saw the figure of an old woman huddled.  The vision in the diamond had stopped moving.  They could hear the woman breathing softly.

“It is!  Mother!”  said Queen Lydia.  The woman in the vision did not move.  “Try saying something to her Martha.”

“Can you hear us?”  said Martha loudly.  The woman got up and looked around.

“She hears!”  said Lydia.  “Tell her who we are.  Ask her to say something back.”

Martha explained who they were and that Lydia was right by their side and could see her.  She smiled and spoke to them but they could not hear the words.

“We cannot hear you, so you’ll have to respond with… signs,” said Martha.

“Ask if she is getting enough to eat,” said Lydia.

“Are you eating every day?”  asked Martha.

Queen Tirzah went and lit a candle in the cave.  Then, she nodded “yes”.  By the candlelight they could see that she was a little gaunt and underfed.

“Ask if she gets out of the cave daily,” said Lydia.

Martha did so and Queen Tirzah nodded “yes” and made motions of shoveling dirt to show that it was for hard labor every day.

Chapter 11 Rejoicing on the High Day

This time, when Martha awoke, Scrapper was licking her face.

A nurse was trying to shoo him away.  ”You’ll wake up my patient!” she whispered to the dog.

“Blur…rit’s okay, I want to pet him,” said Martha, blinking.

“Well bless my soul!”  said the woman.  “You ladies seem to have a remarkable ability to recover!”

Mercy was peering at Martha over a scroll: “I knew you’d come around,” she said.

“Have I *yawn* blurr…missed anything important?”  asked Martha.

“Well…we’re in the cloisters,” said Mercy.  “Miriam is behind that curtain over there–I think she’s wounded.”

“She got kicked pretty hard.  Stone leg?  *yawn* Whaddya figure? 600pounds?   That haz to hurt.”

“Yeah.  Major bruiser.  Martha?”

“Wha?”

“We’re still in Highpattern.  I mean, this is either a dream or it’s not.”

“Yeah, your hands feel like your hands,” (she was holding Mercy’s hand as the two sisters looked at each other), “and your face feels like your face.”

“Burr…really? I have to, ahh…pee,” said Martha.

The nurse helped Martha to her feet.  She could hear the sound of singing coming from the Cathedral. “Are we going to go listen to the sing…?  Martha tailed off as she began to fall over in a dizzy spell.

“Whoa– a little woozy are you missy?” asked the nursemaid.  It took several attempts to get Martha to the point where she could get to the chamber pot. “Go back to sleep now.  That singing is just the early-morning vespers.”

——

Later that morning, to their great satisfaction, they found Labesh gently waking them up.  The room smelled of lavender.  She was brushing their forheads with a warm washcloth.  ”You can go back to sleep if you like,” she said.  “But the worship service begins in a little while.” Both girls were looking attentively at her.  “Perhaps we can see if you feel well enough.”

As they moved they felt sore and stiff, but excitement about going to church in a different world quickly took over.  They loved going to church—the singing, the dresses, the chance to catch up with your friends.  They sat on the edge of the bed and Mercy put her arm around Martha, supporting her.

“I think we’re okay, ma’am,” said Mercy.

“Sore?” said Labesh, reading their thoughts. She gave them each a cup of delicious tea which smelled of raspberries and honey.  “Drink it down,” she said; “does away with the stiffness.”

After they had sat a few minutes sipping tea, the nurse looked them over sternly.  “Time to see if you can stand,”  she said to Martha.  With Mercy, she gently stood Martha up.

“I’m not dizzy.”  said Martha.  The swooning nausea had completely gone.

Labesh  led the girls on to a bathing chamber in the cloisters.  They were given hot baths—Oh! The bliss!  The water was hot and green from herbs.  The tub was not white, but rather made of stone.  It was like getting into a hot cup of herbal tea.

The stiffness in the muscles began to go away. Mercy began to sing one of mom’s bath songs from home.  Then they looked at each other and cried.

“Mercy.”

“Yes (sob) Martha?”

“We’ve got to see it through.”

Mercy nodded and washed the tears away with soap.  ”We’ve got to keep taking this seriously.  I mean… what happened to the kids in other books we’ve read?”

“They usually went back to earth when they had completed some kind of  mission,” Martha said as she looked at Mercy.  ”I wonder who we should talk to?  I mean, if we’re going to find out what to do next…”  She drifted off…

Mercy raised her eyebrows.  As if on cue, Martha’s eyes widened and she knew what mercy was thinking.  “Queen Tizrah!”  they said Together with gusto.  The paintings depicting Queen Tizrah with the necklace came flooding back to their minds.

“Maybe she left some kind of instruction on what is to be done with the Patternstone,” said Mercy.  “And Miriam may know much more about it, and Queen Lydia,” she continued, thinking aloud.

“And a good Queen she is too,” said the nurse who had just come in again.  “She and the King personally came and watched over you while you were sleeping.”

The woman put towels and garments on racks for them.  “My name is Phoebe.  Ring that bell if you need anything else,” said the nurse.

They returned back to their room and their undergarments and found that Labesh had laid out dresses for Sunday worship.  They were  pretty, yet not so richly adorned.  Linen blouses with light brown skirts.  The color was in the shawls.  The girls got to pick a shawl that fit a color scheme they wanted.  Some were tans and browns and others were blues and greens, but nothing too day glo.

Before she got dressed, Martha had to ring the Bell.  She wanted to understand why she had not laid out the sky blue dress.  “Begging your pardon Ma’am, they…” Martha was embarrassed to continue.  It was one of those moments when you wish you hadn’t started saying something.  “Well they—they’re not as ornate as the dresses in the Palace.”

“The rich and the poor worship together, Miss,” Labesh answered with a smile.  “On Sundays, we don’t dress to flaunt wealth or position.  With the King’s blessing, nobles in the city give Sunday clothes to anyone who needs them.  This way, no one stays away from worship because they feel inferior about clothing.”

“What a great idea,” said Mercy.

“Does away with lots of gossip, too, I can tell you!”  It takes a fine King to see these kinds of things, but what a difference it makes!  Why, Queen Lydia herself comes to worship without her royal attire.  She and the King actually remove their crowns at the door of the Cathedral every Sunday morning.  By this they are showing us citizens that our wealth or position is laid aside in the house of God.”

“Do they sit up front?”  asked Mercy.

“They sit in different places, Missy,”  Labesh answered, holding up a shawl meaningfully.  ”He does keep a retinue of guards wherever he goes, but he’s always shaking hands with everyone.”

“But when does the Queen put her crown back on? I mean…”

“…puts it  back on when she heads for the feast at the Palace.  You’ll see. King Titus is always thinking of ways to help the church.  Of course, some of the rich still flaunt a bit too much, and occasionally some of the poor are overlooked for a few weeks.”

“So the clothing reflects your station except on Sundays?”

“Yes,” said Labesh as she tucked in Martha’s blouse.  ”The King said to keep the necklace hidden.   We don’t want to call attention to you during the service.  Just try your best to sing and listen.  May I have a peep?”

As they looked at the necklace, the six smaller gems reminded Martha that the Adelphia stone was now in the floor of the Cathedral. The Patternstone was not humming, or blinding or showing movies. It was as if it was sleeping completely.

“And to think that was in the dressing chambers all that time…” Labesh mused.

Martha put the necklace carefully in the black bag pouch to be worn on the inside.  Sunday dresses in place, the three went out to the foyer.  Phoebe had laid out some kind of delicious croissant’s which they heartily devoured.  Martha noticed that she too was dressed with the simple skirt and shawl combination.  Malachi had been given simple britches with suspenders over a linen tunic.

He was accompanied by Duman.

“I will act as your guard today, by your leave ladies,” said Duman. “I’m sorry, but Scrapper is not allowed in the Cathedral during worship service,” he said, anticipating their question. “If everyone bought brought their dogs, soon they would bring their geese and sheep as well,”  he laughed.

“Shall we go to church?”  he said.

As they walked back through the Open Door, the sound of singing was robust.  It resounded with a warmth–kind of  like chocolate cake coming out of the oven only, for your ears.  Duman escorted them to the back of the crowd.  They were glad not to attract attention.  The people were happily focused on singing.

When they got to the balcony, Duman whispered to Martha, “you see! You did it, young missy!  All the gargoyles are back on the gutter spouts where they belong!”

“Do we just leave the Adelphia stone in the floor?”  she asked.

“Yes,” said Duman.  “I’ll explain later.”

He handed Martha the book of Psalms.  The warmth of the hundreds of voices joining together was a wonderful sensation.  Mercy had caught on to many of the words by now.  Soon the girls were entering in with gusto.  Martha looked over at Malachi who couldn’t read very well yet.  He smiled at her and sang the refrains.

When the singing stopped, Martha looked up from her Psalter.  She couldn’t believe the beauty of what she saw at the center of the floor.  The Adelphia stone picked up so many hues and colors in the center of the floor that it looked like a tiny rainbow.  A table had been placed near the center of the floor mosaic now.  It’s satin tablecloth reflected the rainbow colors of the Adelphia stone which in turn reflected sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass.  Small particles in the air seemed to dance with color.

Shepherd Amos led them in robust scripture responses.  He would call out, and the congregation would respond warmly.

Martha noticed the benches along the side of the center mosaic where mothers and the elderly parked themselves.  She noticed that children tended to stand in front where they could see.  During many parts of the service, there was a very low murmur as little children were being carefully led back and forth to the restrooms.  The little ones had curly hair and piggy tails

The floor of this Cathedral was not completely flat like the ones she remembered from earth.  Rather, it stepped up slightly around the columns so that more people could see.  Shepherd Amos’s voice resounded.

Eventually, Martha did find the King and Queen among the crowd.  She noticed a few extra guards near them.  But they were trying to be unnoticed.  The message they were sending was clear: this was God’s special time.

The children looked for allusions to the Patternstone and what it meant.  During the prayer, Shepherd Amos thanked God for bringing deliverance to Adelphia and beautifying the Cathedral by setting the gargoyles free.  As Shepherd Amos said the prayer, they realized that their normal Christian prayer also worked in Highpattern.  They realized that God was still God no matter what other world you found yourself in.

 

Chapter 10 Quick Thinking

“He’s breathing!  Malachi, if I may…your sword,” said Duman.

Malachi looked at Listener, stunned.

Effortlessly, Duman used the fiery blade to  slice through the straps on Listener’s dented breastplate.  Then he gently adjusted Listener’s body.  “Scrapper, guard him!”  he commanded as he bent down to check for a pulse.  He gave a scruffy little pat.  Scrapper sat, knowing to stay put.   “We must leave him unconscious.”

All of the companions were standing now,  just inside the Open Door.  “Time to go in,” said Duman.  ”Martha, you must hold the necklace upward in order to fend off the gargoyles.  They will not be  able to stand its light, but do not look at it yourself.”

“Like this?” Martha demonstrated.

“Yes. When you get to the very center of the floor mosaic, pull out the Adelphia stone.  It will fit exactly into the small depression at the center of the mosaic.  The seventh facet of the stone must face East.  Mercy, you must be ready to guide her hand if she falters.  Malachi, you and I must protect them with your sword.”

Duman gazed in.  Nearly all the gargoyles had gone to battle in the square.  Only two were left as sentries inside.  These stood between the companions and their goal.

“Malachi, you and I will have to go in first.  Let’s try to lure those two away!”

Malachi had never felt so afraid or courageous at the same time in his life.  Adrenaline pounded through his limbs and head.  Only Duman’s calm actions kept him from fainting on the spot.

As soon as they stepped through, the gargoyles charged at them.  Duman moved them quickly to the left: away from the door.  Malachi knew that there was no way out of this.  He took the courageous step through the door.

Instantly, the leader spotted him.  The creature was about 7 feet tall with big fangs protruding below his chin.  It obviously feared the Ramfaya sword which was burning with its familiar grey fire.  It dove to Malachi’s left, attempting to outflank the sword.  Duman simply kept both Malachi and the sword at the ready, rotating his stance.

As with Listener, Malachi had actually got used to Duman’s promptings and moved to where Duman wanted him.  It was like a circling dance., luring the creatures away.

Miriam, who had waited with the girls behind the Open Door, could see that it was time to act. The second gargoyle would attack from behind in seconds.  ”Now!”  said Miriam and began singing  a psalm into her little horn.  As soon as the three girls crossed the plane of the Open Door, there was a gasp of silence from the gargoyles.  The singing startled them for about three running strides.

Miriam’s singing was interrupted by a loud wail from the front door 70 yards away. The presence of the Patternstone so close to its objective was like a spiritual shockwave.

Malachi saw the attention of the two gargoyles turn to his sisters.   He realized that he must try to stop their motion. Moving as quickly as he thought about it, he slashed the wing of the smaller gargoyle.  With the backslash, he tried to kill the larger one.  The stroke fell short, however, and he was only able to cut off a few inches of tail. The creature became airborne while the smaller gargoyle was still running toward his sisters.  Duman picked Malachi up and charged.

Meanwhile, Martha followed instructions, keeping the necklace raised up with its blinding light.  It felt magnetic, drawing her to the center of the floor.  She saw the beautiful mosaic: circular and radiating out from its center like a Sun with seven rays.

“Look out!”  yelled Mercy.

As soon as she had yelled, Mercy swung Martha around with the necklace just in time to blind the gargoyle descending upon them.  The Patternstone held up in faith is a gargoyle’s worst nightmare.  It’s light and power were like a bomb going off and seemed to actually physically strike it.  The creature reeled to the side. Unfortunately, it was the side where Miriam was.  The heavy leg of the gargoyle struck knocking her senseless.  Her singing was cut short.  Martha was stunned as she saw Miriam hit the ground.

“Martha, it’s now or never!”  said Mercy.  She saw that they needed to cover the few yards and finish the job.

Just as they got to the center of the floor, so did Gothlond.  He swooped in through the broken rose window.  The other gargoyles were confused, but not he.  He had failed in the feasting hall, but not this time. He did not look at the bright Patternstone, but simply reached out and took it from Martha’s grasp.

There was nothing she could do to resist the strength of the stone creature.  Though she wanted to hold on, she knew somehow that he would simply break her hand and arm.  “Nooo!”  She cried.  But she let go and rolled out of the way.

Things would’ve gone really badly here, except that Duman and Malachi had been charging in from the side.  Just as Gothlond  got his prize, but before he could gloat or move out, Malachi’s sword pierced him.

“You better not hurt my sisters!” he shouted.   At the moment of impact, he thrust the burning grey fire upward.

This isn’t a pleasant subject, but the physical sensation of thrusting a magical sword into an enemy made of stone is very satisfying.  This time it felt a little less like butter and a little more like, well, poking a chocolate cake when it has come out of the oven to see if it is done.

When Gothlond had grabbed the Patternstone with his hands, Malachi had simply thrust upward, straight into the middle of Gothlond.  The sword hilt actually felt cold.  Gothlond gave a hideous wail as he dematerialized into a wisp of smoke.

The necklace lay on the floor.  Everything was in slow motion.  Other gargoyles were rushing in, about to pounce.  But Mercy had been paying attention, waiting for her chance.  She dove for the necklace and in one motion, took the Adelphia Stone from its setting as King Titus had shown them.  Then she looked for Martha who was just snapping out of a state of shock.  She looked up just in time to see Duman and Malachi pierce another gargoyle.

“Martha… now!” said Mercy.  She tossed the necklace to Martha. The Adelphia Stone fit perfectly.  There was a brilliant flash of multicolored light and a noise like a rushing mighty wind.  The gargoyles which had been swooping toward them were suddenly sucked out through the front entrance of the Cathedral like sand going down into an hourglass.

And, then, a great calm.

Colorful sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass. There were no gargoyles left inside the Cathedral.  The battle sounds, which had been almost earthshaking, had completely ceased.  Rays of sunlight showed the dust settling in the cavernous hall. Martha’s head grew wobbly, and, for the second time that day, she fainted and knew no more.

Gothlond

Gothlond

Chapter 9 Gothlond’s Dilemma

“Oww!”, said Gothlond to himself as he accidentally hit the branch of a sycamore tree.  He was still fairly clumsy.  He hated this whole business of being demon possessed.  How lovely it had been to bask in the sun over his archway.  Or, to let the cool rain water flow through his guttermouth, how he longed for rest again.

Somehow, in his haste to possess him, Leviathan had sent an untrained demon who kept running into things.  He delicately tried to land on the roof of a Baker’s shop, but botched it again– knocking several bricks out of a chimney with his wings.  One of his lieutenants, Zlag, was already on the roof awaiting instructions.

“We really don’t like to fly out  at ‘em, sir,” said Zlag,  “They stay in close to the buildings then prick us with silver.  None of us wants to be a pincushion.  And they got Zlog in the plex’.  Whisp o’ smoke he was.  Then we didn’t see ‘im no more. ‘Eees done for and all the boys know it.”

Gothlond looked across the roof at  Zlag.  “Keep to your orders!  Continue to circle the Cathedral.  Take Zlig and investigate the ground at the west side.  Maybe the humans are tunneling.”

(Zlag had been part of a threesome on one side of an archway: Zlig, Zlag and Zlog.  Their counterparts on the other side of the archway had been Blig, Blag and… Oh, nevermind, I need to get back to narrating).

“That’s all right for you to say,” said Zlag.   Ain’t you a pretty sight up ‘ere out of the line o’ fire.  Send us littler ones to do your dirty work…”

“Silence!”  yelled Gothlond.  “Don’t forget: I can report you to the black fellow when he gets here.”

“On my way sir,” said Zlag meekly.  He saluted with one wing tip to his hideous deformed forhead and departed.

Gothlond hated his demon possessed job that Leviathan had given him.  Taking over the houses that humans lived in– repulsive!  He preferred the open-air.  Taking their food?  Yucky, repulsive stuff that humans enjoyed consuming together from tables!  When humans ate, they also had to sit on their pots — aah ahh– what a laugh!

But his assignment,  the nerve!  Making him fly into that feast Hall with the singing and the food smells– all to try to get the Patternstone from a pretty little girl.  Leviathan had better pay him well a job like that!

Gothlond knew that the Patternstone would start the whole thing all over again. All of this singing and feasting and enjoying one another’s company–Yecchhk!  He had tried, in a desperate attempt, to grab the stone from the girl in the feast hall.  And now he must try again.  The failure in the Chapel of his three soldier gargoyles sealed the matter.  That confounded little girl was going to put the Adelphia Stone in the floor of the cathedral.  If she did this, they all turned back to motionless stone.  Just stone.  Stone…stone…

As if through a crack,  something in Gothlond’s memory awoke.  Underneath the demon, he realized that this would be a good outcome.  Deep within Gothlond, ready to be awakened, was the memory of his gutter spout.  When he had sat on his gutter spout, basking in the sun or being drenched in the rain, silver wouldn’t bother him.  Nothing would bother him.  If only Leviathan the Black hadn’t begun his program of enslavement.  Gothlond had looked beautiful on his gutter spout!    His stone mason had given him beautiful wings and a hideous face.  Thank you very much.

“Wham!”  Pigsnout had crashed into the same sycamore tree because his teeny-weeny wings were far too small for his large girth.

Gothlond shook his head.  What was he thinking?  The memory was gone.

“Why don’t you watch your floppy flaps you overgrown grapefruit!”  Gothlond yelled toward the fat struggling  gargoyle.  ”Get back to your duty!”

As if to demonstrate his superiority, Gothlond expanded his very large wings, and, with a few flaps, he went back up to take stock of the situation again.

With lots of prodding, the other local gargoyles had surrounded the Cathedral.  It was excruciatingly difficult to try to get them to cooperate.  Only the threat of the abyss motivated them at all.  Even his three soldier-gargoyles had needed extra threats to attack the Chapel.  And two of them had been pierced by silver.   Almost the Abyss for them.  Serious pain with no healing in sight. And now, flying around the Cathedral square, exposing themselves to silver tipped arrows and swords.  Not safe.  And then when the Kings Army began singing!  Well, let’s just say it was the opposite end of the spectrum from what demons liked: nails scraping over slateboard or un-tuned violins.

He swooped in lower for a closer look.  Hearing another couple of soldiers singing Psalms, he didn’t look where he was going. Wham!  “Owwuch!  Well, at least the tree got the worst of that exchange!  What was it about sycamore trees?”

He flew up to one of the flying buttresses surrounding the Cathedral in order to think.  Hmm…he knew, from one of the soldier gargoyles, Morlond, that the girl had got into the tunnel.  He sat looking out into Cathedral square.  Suddenly, a flaming arrow came Through the broken rose window in the front of the Cathedral and stuck in a sycamore tree down East of the fountain.  The tree began to catch fire.  What was it about sycamore trees?

Dang!  Someone had got through.  The jig was up.  Someone was inside.  And now the King’s Army began to sing those confounded warfare mountain Psalms with loud gusto.  His ears were ringing.  And no sign of Leviathan the Black.

No, there was nothing left to do but to try to stop the girl from getting to the center with the Adelphia stone.  He couldn’t wait any longer.  If he couldn’t get these lazy slouches to move, better do it himself.  Time for action!  In a fury, he flew a straight course for the front door of the Cathedral.