D. MacHale - The Rivers of Zadaa

She led me through the insane party to another large square and the royal palace of Zinj. The building was breathtaking. Where all the other pyramids of Xhaxhu were made from brown sandstone, the palace was pure white. I don’t know if it was made of marble or what, but it stood out among the brown buildings like a brilliant, magical castle. Everything about the palace was white. The stone stairs leading to the immense front doors, the many giant statues that lined both sides of these stairs, even the elaborate fountain on the roof. It was carved to look like a beautiful oasis full of palm trees and flowers. For the occasion the fountain was actually working. Water jetted up in several places to form intricate patterns that danced across one another. It gave me a brief reminder of what Xhaxhu was like before the drought.

“Here!” Loor declared. “I come to this spot for every celebration.”

She positioned us on a series of steps that led up to the building right next to the palace. From there we had a perfect view of the palace. Halfway up the palace stairs, a platform was erected that I figured would be where Pelle a Zinj would make his speech. It was draped with purple cloth, making it look very regal. On the platform were two heavy, stone chairs that looked like thrones. Tonight the people of Xhaxhu would hear about their future from the one they trusted the most. I felt as if we were in the right spot at the right time.

The square below us was full of people awaiting the parade and the speech. When the parade arrived, thousands more revelers came with them. Soon the square was packed to capacity. There was cheering and music and general joyous mayhem. These guys really knew how to throw a party!

“Look,” Loor said, pointing to the palace.

I had been so interested in the parade, I hadn’t notice that the royal platform was now occupied. Two people sat in the thrones-a man and a woman who looked to be in their sixties. They wore elaborate, purple robes with colorful, beaded collars. Both had on golden crowns. They weren’t big and goofy looking either. They were actually pretty simple.

“The king and queen,” Loor said, though I pretty much had that figured out on my own.

Joining the two on the stage was a familiar face-Pelle a Zinj. He, too, wore a purple robe, but it was nowhere near as elaborate as his parents’. Same with his crown. It was barely a small circle of gold. It looked more like a halo than a regal crown. Pelle stood at the front of the platform, looking down on the festivities with a huge smile. As tough as it must have been to have the responsibility of ruling an entire tribe, there had to be some good times too. This was one of them. As Loor put it, he and his family were the voices of reason. They did not want war with the Rokador. I knew our paths would have to cross. He could very well be our best ally against Saint Dane here on Zadaa.

Behind him, protecting the platform, was a group of around seven Ghee warriors. These guys really stood out because they were wearing the black armor. They looked like the Secret Service in charge of guarding the boss. All they needed were shades and earpieces. Nobody was going to mess with the royal family with those goons standing guard.

Pelle’s gaze rose from the parade below to look out over the crowd. He had this great smile on his face that showed how much he loved his city, and his people. His gaze wandered across, and fell on me. I expected his smile to fall when he saw this somewhat tan Rokador intruding on his party. Instead his smile grew even bigger. He waved to me and touched his heart as if to say: “I am glad you are here.” I did the same. It was an awesome experience, like I had just been acknowledged by the president or something. That wasn’t the end of it. Pelle whispered something to his Ghee bodyguards, and pointed to me. Uh-oh. Was this all some cruel joke? Was he going to have his bouncers throw me out? The guards scowled and shook their heads. Whatever Pelle told them, they weren’t happy about it.

“What is happening?” Loor asked.

A moment later we had our answer. Pelle walked down off the platform and made his way through the crowd toward us! This guy truly was a man of the people. He didn’t stand on ceremony. He put on a disguise so he could watch the warriors battle in the square, he visited his subjects in the hospital, and he didn’t mind coming down from his pedestal to visit with a common person. An enemy Rokador, no less. Me.

“Pelle is coming to see us!” I said, barely believing it.

Pelle had trouble getting through the crowd. Everybody wanted to touch him or his robe. He smiled at everyone and touched as many as he could, kind of like the Zadaa version of a politician. If there was a baby held up, he probably would have kissed it. Two of the Ghee guards followed close behind, looking tense. They weren’t happy about this spontaneous visit. The others stayed behind with the king and queen. None of them were armed. That was the rule of the festival. They looked pretty scary just the same.

“What do we do?” I asked nervously.

“Be sure to bow,” Loor said. “Call him ‘Your Majesty’ and let him do the talking.”

“But this is our chance,” I said. “He’s the big boss. If we can get in good with him, it might help us deal with Saint Dane.”

Pelle was getting closer. Whatever plan we were going to come up with, we had to do it fast.

“We cannot be too forward,” Loor cautioned. “Be polite. That will impress him. He will remember that, if we need to call upon him in the future.”

“Got it. Impress. Polite. I can do that.”

The crowd on the stairs next to us parted as the prince of Xhaxhu approached.

“Pendragon, my friend! You are well!” he said with a big, warm smile.

Unbelievable. He even remembered my name.

“I am so happy,” he continued. “And you have gotten some color! If I didn’t know better, I would have mistaken you for a Batu.”

“I am healthy once again, thanks to your kindness, Your Majesty,” I said while bowing deeply. Loor bowed too.

“Please,” he said. “It is I who should be grateful to you.”

“I do not understand, Your Majesty,” I said.

“Now that you are healthy, I trust you will keep your promise to return to your people and explain that as long as I am ruler of Xhaxhu, there will be no war.”

Oops. I had forgotten about that.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” I said, bowing again. “I remained here in Xhaxhu so that I may accept your generous invitation to the greatest festival I have ever seen. Tomorrow I will return to pass along your message.”

“Wonderful,” Pelle exclaimed. “Our people need each other. I am confidant that once this horrible drought is over, and it will be, we can bring back the atmosphere of mutual respect we both deserve.”

“You are a wise ruler,” I said. “However, there is one thing.”

I sensed Loor glancing at me, worried that I might say something stupid. I was about to take a risk, but this was a golden opportunity to forge an alliance. I couldn’t let it pass.

“What is that, my friend?” he asked.

“There are those who do not wish for peace,” I said. “For them, I fear the drought is simply an excuse to spread hatred among the tribes.”

Pelle sighed and said, “I agree. But do not fear. The rebel Ghee may wave their weapons and bellow loudly, but their numbers are small. I trust that once the drought is over, their voice will no longer be heard in the city of-“

Pelle suddenly stopped speaking. Just like that. In mid-sentence. The expression on his face didn’t change. He simply…stopped talking. Everybody around us stood there awkwardly, not sure about what was going on.

“Majesty?” I asked.

A second later Pelle fell to his knees. The crowd gasped and backed off. A thin line of blood trickled from his lips. As the raucous festival continued around us, the small group of people around Pelle a Zinj stood statue still, frozen in shock. The prince fell forward, flat on his face.