The Blinded Journey Read online

He walked past the culvert and continued around the palace, then went looking for an inn where he could get a room and clean himself up in preparation for whatever might come next. The first inn he approached refused to give him a room, claiming they were full, and the second inn as well.

  Kendel bit back any sharp retorts, and downgraded the quality of place he would stay, going to a less presentable inn that was nearer a neighborhood of forges, liveries, and other less desirable establishments.

  “It’ll cost extra if you have a guest,” the innkeeper stated in a flat tone of voice.

  “Uh, okay,” Kendel thought the information was superfluous.

  “Maybe a little more if she stays longer, maybe a little less if she’s pretty enough, or one of our regulars,” the man leered. Kendel belatedly understood, and blushed, but just nodded his head and went up to his tiny room, where he shed his pack and staff, then returned downstairs.

  “Can I have a bath of hot water sent to my room?” Kendel asked, his fingers already clutching the coins in his pocket he knew he’d have to pay. He wasn’t sure that a tub would truly fit in his room unless the bed was pushed to the side, or even raised to lean against the wall, but he’d let the servants worry about that.

  The innkeeper looked at him with an expression of either dismay or amusement.

  “Bath? You go down the street to the public baths, like everyone else. This isn’t the Royal Residence you know; we’re not a palace,” he said dismissively.

  Kendel sighed and got directions to the baths, then went to his room and gathered his set of clean clothes and walked to the bathhouse, where he soaked in lukewarm water with other men in the gender-separated rooms. He scrubbed his hair and rubbed his limbs without any soap, then soaked and concluded he had done the best he could.

  When he returned to the inn in the late afternoon, he felt hungry, and planned to go find dinner at a pub, preferably one in a nicer neighborhood that his room was in. The lobby of his inn was filled with women, he noted to his surprise, and all eyes stared at him as he entered and quickly passed through.

  Minutes later, Kendel had his money and his staff, and left the inn to go to a tavern, where he ate a bowl of hot stew and listened to the men around him talk. The news was startling, and Kendel went to a different tavern where he listened to more gossip, then went to a third pub and ate another bowl of stew as he listened to the tales of horror and woe that circulated.

  Beches had gone mad.

  Though the tale peddlers in the taverns didn’t know some elements of the story, what they told – combined with what Kendel knew – was a horrific story of a man who was consumed with ambition.

  The disappearance of Princess Agata had spurred Beches to declare an emergency. When she hadn’t been captured – or when the captors in Four Borders had lost her after sending positive messages to Beches – Beches had devised an elaborate tale that tied together various elements of truth, but woven in a great deal of malicious fiction.

  The monster that had been in Agata’s suite was declared to be real, a monster brought by palace members who were plotting a coup. Agata had then been kidnapped by those same enemies, Beches announced, and he began to imprison some, and swiftly execute others.

  “They say he’s having more of them executed tomorrow, a gaggle of pretty girls at dawn,” one tavern resident said to another as Kendel listened in horror. “And that knight, Elline, he’ll be killed too.”

  “Taking the heads off the whole lot of them, I’ve heard,” Kendel listened to the same rumor in another tavern. “The knight’s squire ran off with the princess, and the girls of the court helped them get away is the story I’ve heard.”

  Kendel sat in the tavern as a singer crooned an off-key ballad and tried to imagine Elline and the ladies of the court on the list of people about to be executed. He was glad he had hurried, glad he had run as much as he had – he had arrived in Sunob without a day to spare, and a large task ahead.

  He left the tavern and asked for directions to Shaiss’s temple, where he hurried inside and found a lobby that had the same arrangement of doors that led to chambers for prayers, according to the purpose of the request.

  “I want Shaiss’s advice,” Kendel told the priest who greeted him in the lobby.

  “What kind of advice?” the man asked suspiciously.

  “Advice on what to do,” Kendel snapped.

  “Shaiss doesn’t give advice. She does what she wants. You go tell her what you want, and she’ll decide whether to do it or not,” the priest crossed his arms.

  “Fine, I want revenge,” Kendel didn’t want to bandy words with a priest. He wanted to go tell Shaiss what he knew and find out if the goddess would respond.

  “Go in the fifth door,” the priest directed Kendel, who walked over to the door and stepped down a set of stairs, then followed a hallway to a chamber of statues.

  “My goddess,” Kendel began. “I need your help and your advice,” he began.

  “You know what Beches is doing. Help me! I want to go rescue Grace and Vivienne and Sophie, and Sir Elline too. I can get into the palace. Can you help me?” he asked.

  I thought maybe you had become self-sufficient after not hearing from you for so long, not hearing any prayers, Shaiss’s voice rumbled in the otherwise empty hall. But here you are, once again.

  Kendel paused and listened, waited to hear some advice or direction from the goddess. There was only silence.

  “My goddess, what should I do?” he asked.

  I had the impression you’ve already decided what to do. You’re going to go to the palace and be a hero, right? Well, the sun has already set, so get going, Shaiss directed.

  There was further silence.

  Kendel rose to his feet. “Thank you,” he said with a note of sarcasm in his voice. He was mad at the goddess. She had heard his prayer and responded and had gone out of her way to offer no advice or assistance.

  He left the temple and walked to the vicinity of the palace, then casually strolled along the palace wall where the culvert offered his intended entry way. There was no one else on the road, so he quickly stepped down into the ditch and swung the grate open, then slid inside and restored the grate in place, and took a deep breath. He was about to undertake the dangerous rescue.

  Chapter 9

  Flora attended the memorial service for Kendel and was touched by Mrs. Donne’s request that she sit in the front row with the friends and family. She found herself seated next to Rowena Donne as the pastor gave the eulogy comments, while Liza and Jameson sat on the other side of Kendel’s mother. The four of them held hands to comfort one another except when one or another of them used a tissue to wipe away tears.

  She stayed with Rowena again at the insistence of Kendel’s mother, and she spent the early evening with Liza and Jamison and others who were still in shock over Kendel’s demise. The following morning, she attended an all-student convocation at the high school auditorium, where she was invited to be one of the speakers who remembered Kendel.

  “I knew Kendel as someone who could grow from a situation,” she told the gathering of students, most of who were just barely younger than she was. “Kendel was a kind person, and a thoughtful one, and most of all, he was someone who believed in commitments and honor and carried out what he thought was the right thing to do, even when it wasn’t the easy thing to do.”

  She wanted to give examples of the things that she had seen Kendel do, but they were all a part of the strange experience in the land of the fantasy world, a place that she could never explain or comment on.

  So, she told a story that would make everyone laugh.

  “After we left the hospital, and we were resting in a house where the paparazzi couldn’t find us, we went into separate rooms. Kendel was in one room, pacing around, talking on the phone to Jamison, while Mrs. Donne and Jane and I were in another room. We could hear Kendel’s end of the conversation, and his voice got louder as he answered Jamison’s questions. Do you remember, Jamison?�
� she looked at where Kendel’s friend sat next to Liza in the front row. Jamison shook his head negatively.

  “Kendel said ‘no’. Then a moment later, his voice was louder, and he said, ‘No, it’s not true,’” Flora told the tale.

  “And Kendel was pacing around as he talked, so he was standing right in front of the doorway to the kitchen where his mother could hear him, and I could hear him. And his voice rose louder as he said,” she paused, and laughed slightly, and even found tears welling up in her own eyes, so fond was she of the story and the memory, even though she didn’t believe Kendel was dead. “He said ‘No, I am not shagging Flora Greene!’ he recited,” then she grinned over at Jamison as she wiped a tear from her eye, while watching the blush that turned Jamison’s face bright red, while the audience burst out in laughter.

  “He became my very best friend,” she said. “And I know that all of you who knew him will have a great big hole in your hearts because he is gone. Thank you for letting me share this commemoration with you.” She walked over to her seat to applause, as the principal returned to the lectern.

  After the convocation she took pictures with many, hugged Liza and Jamison, then returned to the airport and flew back to Los Angeles.

  “Jane,” she called her agent a day after her return. “Yes, I know Graylon wants to speak to me. How about breakfast tomorrow?” she suggested.

  “Listen, the reason I called is I’d like to take a look at the equipment that went haywire on the set of ‘Ruler’s Sacrifice’”, she told her agent. “I know it’s all tied up in court, but if there’s any way I could see it, I really want to.

  “Why?” Jane was asking her, and she concluded the truth would be the best answer.

  “I wonder if maybe it is the way for me to go back and rejoin Kendel in the other world,” she admitted. “No, I’m not being dramatic about this,” she said defensively, and went on to explain her theory that Kendel was transported back to the world they had left behind, somehow.

  “He took his own body with him this time, but I don’t know how,” Flora stated.

  “Well, if we can’t get the equipment, could we speak to the people who made it, or the operators who were there on the set the day it shifted Kendel and I to the other place?” she asked.

  “Oh. Lawyers!” she exclaimed. “Could I sign something saying that I won’t sue them?” she asked.

  She failed to convince Jane to move forward with any of her proposals. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. See if you can come up with something else to try. Otherwise, maybe I can go to Sedona or some place with crystals or something and see if there’s a way to break through.”

  The phone call was very unsatisfactory, and left Flora wracking her brain, trying to figure out how she could find a trail that would let her rejoin Kendel.

  She thought about the comments she had made at the convocation about Kendel. She hadn’t written them out in advance or planned what to say. She had let her words reflect what she really thought about him. He was nice, he was trustworthy, he was humble. He was everything that she couldn’t seem to find in any of the men she dated in California. She would be happy to date someone like him, someone who wouldn’t mistreat her or abuse her trust.

  She was thinking about dating him, she realized with a start. She had to stop. He was dating – had been dating – Liza, who seemed like a very genuine person herself. Flora didn’t want to break them apart if they were suited for each other. But she realized that perhaps subconsciously, she had wanted to stay in contact with Kendel in order to keep the door open to something more than friendship.

  She needed to distract herself, she realized. She could end up carrying her imagination too far thinking about Kendel. She’d let herself enter bad relationships and stay in them far too long because she had romanticized about whichever particular man she had a crush on. Not that she saw anything even remotely appearing to be a blinking light to warn her against Kendel, but it wouldn’t do to let herself fall in love with him.

  She needed a distraction. Getting back to the question of returning to the magical land of Miriam was the distraction she needed. She’d search all the possible avenues that might lead there. And when she was there finally, she could deal with the question of her relationship with Kendel, whatever it might be.

  Chapter 10

  Kendel studied the main structure of the palace, trying to orient himself to the layout of the grounds and the structures, relying only on the little bit he knew. He remembered where Agata’s suite was in the royal residence wing of the palace; he didn’t intend to go there. The room where the dying king had laid in a coma was near the residences, but he didn’t need to go there. He remembered where Parker’s room was behind the stables; he might go there just as a place he knew to use as a base. He knew where the kitchen was, and a few parlors, and the stables.

  What he didn’t know was where Elline was held, or where the ladies of the court, Grace, Vivienne, and Sophie were spending the evening. And those were the places he wanted to be.

  He decided to go to Parker’s room to have a place to start from, and then he would decide where to go next. He needed information, and the best way he could get it would be through gossip. Either the stables or the kitchen would be his best options, he felt. The everyday staff in both parts of the palace grounds had been free in their gossip when he’d been in Parker’s body during his first visit to the palace. He hoped they would be just as likely to speak freely around him as a stranger.

  He slunk through the gardens undetected. The palace looked darker than he expected, with light showing in fewer windows than he anticipated. It might have been poor judgement on his part to expect more candles and lanterns to be lit, or it might have been that Beches’s purges he had heard about had actually depopulated the palace. If it was the latter, it might explain why he ran into no other people as he crossed the palace grounds and reached the dark room where Parker had resided.

  The doorway was empty, a sign that no one had moved into Parker’s room after he had run away with the princess. Kendel squatted on the ground outside the door and removed his pack as he tried to decide what was his best next step. The stables had fewer workers, who were less likely to be at work at night, but who were also less likely to be inhibited about speaking about the goings on in the palace – although they were also less involved and less likely to know what was going on. Still, he was just around the corner from the stables, so he decided to visit them anyway on his way towards the palace.

  “Ho, the stables,” he spoke as he opened the door and sauntered into the warm interior that was redolent of horses.

  “Who calls? Where’s your animal?” a boy’s voice asked, a voice that was younger than he was, Kendel though. The dim light in the interior of the stables began to move, and five seconds later a lantern came into view.

  “I don’t have an animal,” Kendel answered.

  “Then why are you here? Why are you bothering me?” the boy asked angrily.

  “The kitchen sent me. They thought you might like a snack before you go to sleep,” Kendel fibbed.

  “Yeah, sure!” the boy was suddenly less hostile. “What do they have?”

  “Baked potatoes,” Kendel mentioned the first thing that came into his head. “Do you want one?”

  “I’ll take two if you have them,” the stable boy agreed.

  “Good; I’m glad I came and asked. They told me I’m supposed to see if the guards or the prisoners want anything, but I don’t even know where the prisoners are kept. I’m brand new. I just started today,” Kendel offered. “Do you know where they are?”

  “Sure, everyone knows they’re in the blue tower; I just don’t see the point in wasting any good food on folks that’ll be dead at sunrise,” the boy said dismissively.

  “That doesn’t make sense to me either, but I just follow orders,” Kendel agreed.

  “That’s what we all do if we want to keep our heads,” agreed the youngster.

  “Which way to
the blue tower?” Kendel asked.

  “You are new here, aren’t you? It’s the tall tower in the middle of the front of the palace, right by the front gate – it’s the one that looks down on the chopping black where the executioner works,” the boy from the stables was weary of conversing with Kendel. “I’ll be back here when you bring my potatoes to me,” he ended the conversation and turned to go back to his unseen bunk.

  Kendel was satisfied that he had learned what he needed, at least in terms of knowing where to go, though he didn’t know how he’d actually get into the tower to see the prisoners. Over the course of their friendship, Jamison had told him repeatedly that people would give out information if he just acted like he was going to do something for them. It seemed like a ridiculous strategy, but Kendel had decided to try it with the stable boy, and it had worked. It felt like lying and cheating, and he didn’t want to do it again, but it had served its purpose.

  He went to the kitchens, a place he knew slightly from his time in Parker’s body. As Parker he’d been a known member of the palace population, and a hero for having killed a monster in the princess’s suite, as well as for winning the archery tournament among the squires and the freeholders of the area. But as Kendel, he would be just what he had been with the stable boy, a stranger, unknown.

  He decided to retain at least an element of Jamison’s strategy and boldly walk into the kitchen as if he was entitled to be there; he’d hope to successfully fake an identity that belonged there. He’d fall back on the explanation of being a new employee of the palace and hope he could bluff his way through.

  Inside an unguarded doorway he entered the kitchen and immediately recognized the head kitchen worker who was at work in the kitchen, an older woman who had been generous to Parker and given him extra food. Sheenda was trying to place bowls on a shelf that was too high for her to safely reach.

  “Let me help you with that,” he offered as he stepped up next to her. He reached out, and his hands cradled hers as she held the heavy crockery over her head. Kendel deftly raised the bowls free of her grasp and slid them into place on the shelf.