D. MacHale - The Merchant of Death

“No way!” I said. “Why would he let them bring a bomb into the Bedoowan stadium?”

“Because he wants the Milago to use it,” was his answer. “He doesn’t care who wins, or who dies. He wants the Milago to use the tak. If that bomb goes off, he’ll have succeeded.”

Maybe Uncle Press was right. If Mallos wanted to start a war that would throw Denduron into chaos, what better way to kick it off than by letting the Milago have their big bang right in the Bedoowan backyard? For Mallos it was perfect. We all knew exactly where this was leading but there was nothing we could do to stop it because we were trapped in this stupid hut.

But not for long. Without stopping to tell us, Loor ran for the window and in one quick, acrobatic move pulled herself up and out. In seconds she was climbing up onto the roof. It happened so fast that none of us could react. We just sort of stared at each other, wondering what she was doing. We heard her quietly scamper across the roof until she was above the door to the hut. What followed was the sound of a brief scuffle outside, followed by a few quick grunts. Loor then poked her head back inside the door.

“We may leave now,” she said with matter-of-fact calm.

None of us were exactly sure of what had happened, but we all ran for the door and followed Loor out. Outside we saw all three guards had been knocked unconscious and were leaning against the hut. Loor had struck before they knew what hit them and had managed to free us all in less than twenty seconds.

That was pretty cool, but there wasn’t time for praise. We had to get out of the Milago village without being caught. As it turned out, it wasn’t hard. Rellin’s plan was being carried out, which meant the rest of the miners were preparing for their attack. As soon as they heard the explosion they would charge the Bedoowan palace. Those miners had more important things to worry about than guarding us. So getting out of the village and disappearing into the woods was easy.

The four of us ran until we felt we were a safe distance away. Uncle Press then raised his hand and we all stopped to catch our breath. Uncle Press looked at Loor and said what was on all of our minds.

“You are unbelievable!” he said with a laugh. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to do that? We could have helped.”

Loor gave a very Loor-esque response. “I did not need your help. The best weapon in battle is surprise. The miners were watching Mallos and Rellin. They were not thinking about us. If I had waited, they may have turned their attention back to guarding us. I did not want to give them that chance.”

“I’m proud of you, Loor,” said Uncle Press. “Your mother would be too.”

“She taught me well,” said Loor.

My mother never taught me anything like that. She spent a lot of time drilling good table manners into me, but we never got to the lesson on how to disarm and crack heads with three guys twice my size. My education was definitely lacking in that area.

“What about the bomb?” said Alder. “We must do something!”

Uncle Press spun back to us and said, “Okay, first thing we have to do is get to the palace. We aren’t doing any good here.”

I wasn’t so sure that going to the palace was on the top of my To Do list. The palace was the target and unless we had a real chance of stopping Rellin from setting off that bomb, the only thing getting closer would do is guarantee that we’d be killed the instant it went off. But I wasn’t about to say that. The truth was if there was any hope of stopping Rellin, we had to get there.

“Alder, I want you to go back to the village,” said Uncle Press.

“No!” he exclaimed. “I want to stay with you.”

“Look,” said Uncle Press firmly. “I have no idea if we’re going to stop this thing. So get back to the village, talk to anyone who’ll listen. Warn them that this bomb is going to be bigger than they could ever imagine. Try to get them to go down into the mines. Maybe if they get underground they’ll be safe.”

“But I-”

“No buts, Alder,” said Uncle Press. “I know you want to be with us, but if we fail, you still might be able to save some of the Milago.”

Uncle Press was right. If Alder could save even one person from being killed by the explosion, then his mission would be successful. He had to go back.

Alder nodded to Uncle Press, which told me he understood how important his job was. There wasn’t time for long good-byes. I hadn’t known Alder for very long, but I had grown fond of him. He was kind of a goof, but I didn’t doubt for a second that he would have put his life on the line for any one of us. I’d like to say that I would do the same for him.

“Good luck, Travelers,” he said, and smiled at each of us.

“You too, Alder,” said Uncle Press. “Hurry.”

Alder then spun around and ran back toward the Milago village. Now it was just the three of us. The warrior, the boss, and the kid who was so scared he had to pee. Guess which one I was?

“Come on,” commanded Uncle Press and ran deeper into the forest. Our immediate goal was to get back to the Bedoowan palace. Beyond that, there was no plan. We would have to wing it once we got there, assuming we even got there. Since we were bushwhacking, it took us a long time. I could tell that Loor was getting impatient, but it was better to take a little longer to get there than to risk being captured again. We took a wide route and circled around toward the sea, then crawled along the bluffs until we were within eyesight of the outcropping that held the Bedoowan palace. Though we couldn’t see it, we knew where it was because there was a long line of knights marching toward it. Behind them were the four miners carrying the ore car full of glaze and tak. They were almost at the palace. In a few minutes they would descend into the stadium.

We continued to move quickly along the bluffs, moving closer to the stadium. It was a smart thing to do because none of the knights expected anyone to be coming from the sea. They were ever vigilant, but always with their eyes toward the forest. We were able to quietly slip in from behind them and crawl the last several yards on our bellies until we reached the lip of the stadium. We had made it. Now the question was, what were we going to do?

The three of us peered down into the stadium to see that the line of knights was marching down the steep stairs toward the grass field below. Behind them came Rellin and the miners struggling with the heavy ore car. I glanced around the rest of the stadium and saw that two of the spectator sections were beginning to fill up. The Bedoowan people and the Novans were once again taking their seats in anticipation of a show. It was a horrible feeling. None of these people had any idea that the main event was going to be their own deaths. I looked to the section where the Milago were before to see that it was empty. Big surprise. These guys knew what was coming and didn’t want to be any part of it. I then looked to Loor and to Uncle Press. Nobody said anything. That could mean only one thing. Nobody knew what to do. The thought ran through my head that we could run down the stairs screaming at everyone to run for their lives. But all Rellin would have to do is stop, press the button on his homemade bomb and it would be all over. That wouldn’t work at all. But if we were going to come up with a better plan, we needed to do it fast, because Rellin and the miners had reached the grass field and were about to place the ore car dead center in the ring.

“If I had an arrow I could kill Rellin from here,” said Loor.

“Then one of the others would press the button,” said Uncle Press.

I then heard the three chimes that signaled the arrival of Queen Kagan. Sure enough, when I looked at the royal box a few knights marched in, followed by the chubby queen. True to form, she was munching on something that looked like a roast beef. What a piece of work.