The Door Within: Chapter 12
Now, I’m totally confused. But Paragal . . . he killed King Eliam, didn’t he?”
She sighed. “Did you not read The Scrolls of Alleble?”
Aidan felt like he was being lectured by an impatient teacher. “Well, yeah, of course I read the Scrolls. But I thought King Eliam died . . .”
“He did, Aidan. But it was merely the body that was slain by The Betrayer. King Eliam is far more than flesh. He is everlasting.”
“But what about—”
“In time,” she interrupted. “The King bade me to bring you to the guards’ quarters to be fed and strengthened.”
With that, Gwenne whisked him into a long curving hallway. Aidan was mesmerized by the castle. The walls and floor seemed to be hewn out of solid gray marble and then polished to a reflective shine. There were intricately woven tapestries hung high on every wall. Some were of sprawling castles with massive walls and grand towers. Others showed valiant Glimpse knights charging into battle upon proud unicorns. Many of the tapestries had a particular detail in common: a pair of mountains with the sun rising between them. It seemed familiar to Aidan, but he didn’t know why.
A series of trumpet blasts echoed throughout the castle. Aidan held his ears and looked up the hallway to see what was happening.
A tall Glimpse stood at the end of the hall near an arched pair of gray stone doors. The Glimpse was dressed in bright silver armor, and his skin also seemed to glow. He looked frightening and beautiful at the same time.
“Oh, dear,” Gwenne mumbled. “Quickly, cover your eyes and turn this way!”
“What is it? What?” Aidan resisted, but Gwenne brought him to the ground and pressed his head down.
“One of the King’s messengers has returned, and they are opening the King’s chambers. You must not look.”
“But why?” Aidan demanded.
Just as Gwenne covered Aidan’s eyes with her hands, a thunderous rumble sounded. The King’s enormous doors began to open. The entire hallway filled with searing light. The fierce brilliance streamed in through Gwenne’s fingers.
Aidan fell facedown, burying his head in his hands. Gwenne bent down to his side as the King’s chamber doors closed and the light withdrew.
“I warned you,” she said sympathetically. “Are you all right?”
“My eyes!” he complained, rubbing both vigorously with his knuckles. He blinked tears and opened his eyes. The only image he could see, eyes opened or eyes closed, was the vague outline of Gwenne’s fingers.
“The glory of the King . . . it is perilously pure,” she said.
“You aren’t kidding. It was like looking into the sun for a few hours!!”
“Well said,” Gwenne replied laughing. “But do not let your heart be troubled, for your eyes have not been damaged. In fact, you may find that your sight becomes somewhat more keen. The King’s light burns, but it heals as well.”
Indeed, Aidan’s vision began to be restored.
Gwenne led Aidan into a great hall that contained a vast table made of rich dark wood. At the far end of the room was a large arched window. Aidan was surprised to see sunlight streaming in, for it had been dark in the chamber where he awoke.
Gwenne seated Aidan near that window, and he turned to take in the view. He looked down into a vast network of parapets, arches, cottages, and courtyards. Each building was ornate with twisting trim and sloping gables. But beneath the beautiful decor, there was great strength.
Each dwelling, gatehouse, and tower was girt with dense stone and wrought iron. It seemed to Aidan that Alleble was a kingdom that desired to be at peace but was ever ready should the fight come.
There were many Glimpses traveling along the cobblestone streets and passages along, around, and between buildings. Some Glimpses wore armor and marched with serious purpose. Others were in tunics and more casual garments.
Glimpse children scurried about as well. Aidan spied one group of children playing a game of some sort with a leather ball. They kicked up a storm of straw as they each tried to get to the ball first. Finally, one young girl ran faster than the others and got to the ball with some distance between her and her peers.
With an oft-practiced motion, she kicked the ball straight up in the air, caught it with her hands, and then turned defiantly to the other children who had by that time closed in on her. They immediately shrieked with a mixture of delight and terror and turned to run. The girl flung the ball at one boy who tumbled to the ground laughing. He got up, picked up the ball, and passed it back to the girl. Then together, they chased the rest of the children, beaning them whenever possible.
Like soccer mixed with dodgeball, Aidan thought. The children disappeared around a corner with joyous screams echoing behind them. A flicker of movement distracted Aidan, and he looked into a gated courtyard.
There, many knights engaged in training exercises. Some battled hand to hand. Others dueled with lances. But the swordsmen commanded Aidan’s attention. They thrust forward swiftly, parried, and counterattacked. Their swords glimmered in the sun and rang like bells with each strike. They attacked with power and ferocity as if they were really trying to kill each other, but their movements were expertly measured to avoid drawing blood. Aidan watched in awe and felt an uncanny desire to join them, to strap on some armor and wield a sword.
“They are impressive, are they not?” Gwenne said, joining Aidan at the window.
“Unreal. I’d hate to go against one of them,” Aidan replied.
“They are the Elder Guard and the Knights of Alleble.”
“The twelve greatest warriors in the kingdom?” Aidan asked.
“Yes,” Gwenne replied. She smiled proudly at Aidan. “They serve and protect Alleble. Truly they are fierce in battle, but they save the sword as a last resort.”
“What do you mean?”
“You will learn, Aidan. You will learn. Look there,” she said, pointing across the inner wall. “Behold, the Seven Fountains of Alleble. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”
From their window, the main thoroughfare of Alleble was to the left. It ran from the castle all the way to the kingdom’s outer walls. Evenly spaced and running up the center of the thoroughfare were seven tremendous fountains. Great plumes of water and mist shot high in the air, caught the sun’s rays like millions of tiny prisms, and arched down into massive pools of stone. They were incredible, Aidan had to admit, but he couldn’t honestly say it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen since arriving in Alleble.
“On the last day of every month, all of the Glimpses of Alleble go to the Fountains to celebrate . . . and remember.”
“Gwenne, why are only six of the fountains working?” Aidan asked, pointing to the fountain nearest their castle. It was empty and dry.
Gwenne bowed her head and looked away from the window. “Do you not know?”
“No, I just—” He snapped his mouth closed as it hit him like a thunderbolt. That fountain was the fountain—the fountain where the Elder Guard and their families were held captive by the treasonous knights who served Paragal the Sentinel.
But Aidan was confused. Paragal had promised to release them if King Eliam allowed himself to be sacrificed in their place.
Aidan turned to ask, but a very tall, armor-clad Glimpse entered the room.
This knight carried a gigantic, gleaming silver tray full of covered dishes and placed it gently before Aidan.
“Good day, m’lady,” he said, greeting Gwenne and bowing low.
“Good day, Sir Knight,” she courteously replied. “How goes the training?”
The Alleb Knight looked suspiciously at Aidan for a moment.
“You may speak freely, Sir Galorin. He is here by the King’s own invitation.”
“Prithee, forgive my mistrust, m’lad,” he said, bowing to Aidan. “For these are such days as require careful speech.”
“Uh . . . no problem,” Aidan muttered, a little surprised that an adult would bow to him. Alleble seemed pretty cool, so far.
Aidan looked at the tray and then questioningly up at Gwenne. She nodded, so at once he began lifting the lids of each dish. The first platter contained a pile of the succulent purple fruit he had eaten on the mountain ledge. He eagerly grabbed one and took a bite that would put a shark to shame.
His mouth full of sweet goodness, Aidan continued exploring the platter with his free hand. Under the next lid was a roasted leg of something—Aidan didn’t want to know what—but it was huge, bigger by itself than a whole Thanksgiving turkey. The giant leg-thing was garnished with purple flowers and literally surrounded by a bed of light blue flakes of various sizes.
Aidan thought about covering it back up, but Gwenne was watching him. Finicky eater that he was, he couldn’t turn up his nose with Gwenne there. Using a small knife and a two-tined fork, Aidan carved a piece of meat off the gigantic drumstick and plopped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly at first, trying to determine the flavor. He found it salty and savory, very much to his liking and somewhat familiar.
“Mmmm . . . ,” he said. “Tastes like chicken!”
In another dish, he found what appeared to be blue and white diamonds. When he touched the gleaming jewels, however, they were not rigid and hard like the stones they resembled. Instead, they were soft and pliable like taffy.
Aidan had no idea what they would taste like, but he was too hungry to care. He picked a blue one out of the bowl and had it just inches from his mouth when Gwenne grabbed his hand.
“A solid druble in your belly would make you most unhappy,” she said. Then, she dropped the jewel into a glass of clear water and placed an unusual three-spouted lid on top. Instantly, the jewel began to fizz. Bubbles of every color of the rainbow began to shoot out from all sides of it, and the glass swirled with a tornado of color.
“Now,” Gwenne announced. “Put your mouth on the long spout and your fingers in the two little ones.”
Aidan reluctantly did as he was told and then looked up at Gwenne as if to say, “Now what?” “Slowly, take one finger out of one of the spouts.” Aidan knew something was going to happen. He could see and hear the liquid fizzing away furiously in the glass. But when he took one finger out of a spout, his eyes went wide in total surprise. The glass became warm in his hand, and the heated beverage shot into his mouth. But unlike a normal drink, which you swish around in your mouth before swallowing, little droplets of this stuff bounced and ricocheted around until every last taste bud was in flavor paradise! Aidan liked it so much that he took his other finger out of the other spout to increase the flow.
“No, Aidan, not ye—” Gwenne cautioned . . . too late!
The sweet drink roared into Aidan with such pressure that he had to pull the spout out of his mouth to keep his cheeks from exploding.
The liquid had nothing holding it back, so it shot like a geyser out the window behind Aidan.
Someone on the street below yelled, and Aidan could only imagine what must have occurred.
The tall Glimpse, the one Gwenne had called Galorin, howled with laughter. Gwenne looked as if she was struggling mightily to hold back. All Aidan could do was turn fifteen shades of red and watch the glass empty.
As the last of the drink shot out of the spouted glass, Aidan laughed nervously and shrugged. “Sorry,” he muttered.
Gwenne nodded and smiled at Aidan, and then glared at Galorin, who quickly contained himself. Aidan felt as foolish as he’d ever felt, but he was still extremely hungry. Shrugging again, he turned back to his meal.
While Aidan noisily gobbled up the unusual meal, Sir Galorin updated Gwenne on matters concerning the Kingdom.
“I am afraid we may be preparing too late, m’lady. The Knights of Paragory are massing even as we speak. Our dragons have counted at least four different Paragor messengers leaving the Gate of Despair. The Prince, it would seem, has a great interest in the loyalties of Mithegard.”
“And why should he not?” asked Gwenne bitterly. “There are only tens of thousands of undecided Glimpses there for his misguiding.”
“Agreed,” said Galorin, gritting his teeth.
“When will the twelve be ready for the journey to Mithegard?” asked Gwenne.
“Eleven are ready now, but we are waiting for the King to choose the Twelfth Knight.”
At that, Gwenne turned slightly to Aidan, who was sloppily gobbling down a dessert that looked more or less like a hot dog made of chocolate and whipped cream.
“Sir Galorin, the King has chosen the Twelfth Knight,” Gwenne began, gesturing toward Aidan. “It is the lad you see here before us.”
Aidan stared at Gwenne, and his dessert slipped from his fingers and hit the table with a splat.
The lad whose face was covered with cream would be the Twelfth Knight.