Atherton: The House Of Power Part 16

Dr. Kincaid thought for a moment before responding.

"Let's just say that Dr. Harding wasn't altogether normal. He was... troubled."

"What do you mean, 'troubled'?"

There was no sense hiding it now. The boy would have to know sooner or later.

"Dr. Harding was what we might call a 'mad scientist,' Edgar. He kept a great many things from us. Some we now know about, some we do not. I'm afraid the story gets a little darker from here. Do you want me to go on?"

Edgar could think of nothing he wanted more (there being no more Black and Green to be had), and so Dr. Kincaid began to unravel the mystery of Dr. Maximus Harding.

CHAPTER.

24.

TWO WORLDS COLLIDE.

"Isabel."

"Yes."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, Father, I'm ready."

Light streamed under the door of her small room as she touched the bag of figs at her side.

"As we said, remember?"

Isabel nodded. "Just one shot, then I run and climb into the tree."

Charles pulled her near, having second thoughts about allowing her out of the house at all.

The two stepped outside and found that no one else could be seen in the village. There was an eerie quiet that took Isabel's breath away. The children had all been sent to climb trees in the grove, and the familiar sound of their little voices could not be heard. Was that the sound she missed, she wondered? It was not. It was a silence more maddening than peaceful-the sound of a world gone dry.

There had never been a time when Isabel could not hear the waterfall, but today the sound had gone. Lord Phineus had stopped the water flow entirely. The exhilarating sound of water crashing across rock would very soon be a thing of the past in Tabletop. They would speak of it as if it were a dream and try to remember, but the sound would soon be forgotten.

Isabel raised her eyes to the Highlands and saw a wall of men astride horses along the edge. They were close enough that Isabel could see the expressions on the men's faces and hear strange sounds emanating from the creatures.

"Those aren't men," she croaked, terrified. "They're giant beasts with four legs and two arms!"

Charles hadn't thought to warn Isabel of the strange creatures he had seen for the first time earlier that day. He was in something of a state of shock himself.

"We've been watching them as they grow near," he said. "They're not attached. The men are riding those beasts. Like when you were little and we put you on a sheep and rode you around. Do you remember that?"

Isabel did not, but the idea that these men were in command of such huge animals made her wonder if trying to fight them were a good idea after all.

"Are we making a mistake, father?" asked Isabel. "Maybe we should listen to them first and do as they say. If we do, then Tabletop might not change too much.... We could rebuild the houses, and you could run the grove."

Charles knelt down next to Isabel. "I'm afraid it's too late for that." There was sadness in his voice as he gazed back into the grove behind them. "I'll miss the simple life of the grove, the days of tr.i.m.m.i.n.g and pruning." He looked back at Isabel and she saw fire in his eyes. "But I won't miss watching you go hungry and without water whenever the mood strikes them."

As if to make his point clearer, Isabel's stomach rumbled. She wasn't certain if it was from hunger or from nervousness.

"You're too young to have your innocence taken from you," he said. "That they would poison us, all of us-the children included-is unjust. The truth is the Highlands are filled with cruel people, and they have come to rule over us with force."

With that thought echoing eerily in her mind, Isabel stared at the men on horses expecting to see evil looks on their faces. She did not see any evidence of it. For a fleeting moment she wondered if maybe they were just as stunned by the fall of the Highlands as everyone in Tabletop had been. But trusting her father's words, she cast her own look of fire and anger across the line of men-and just as she did so, the ground began to shake.

There was a horrifying sound, like a vast row of grinding teeth, and the Highlands crashed toward Tabletop as though whatever had been holding it in place had been kicked out from beneath it.

The line of horses scattered in every direction. One of them, unaware of the peril at the edge, came so near as it turned that its back legs careened over the edge. Moments later the Highlands lurched to a stop ten feet from the bottom, and the horse and man were thrown off the edge with a dramatic crash into Tabletop. The two of them were injured but not dead. The horse remained on its side, whining pitifully as the man tried to free his leg from beneath the animal.

The horses that lined the Highlands returned to their positions. Isabel heard the men in the Highlands yelling, "Stay back! Stay back!" When she looked behind her, she saw the men and women of the grove rushing into position. It would take them a minute to arrive-and in that minute, a great many things were about to take place.

"Isabel! You must do it right now!" her father shouted.

Isabel's eyes darted back and forth among the men, and she now noticed a man in the middle of the line who was not like the others. He wore a dark robe that draped over the sides of his horse, dangling against black boots. The widow's peak of his hair pointed down at her, and he had a bold look of triumph on his face as if daring her to turn against him. It was Lord Phineus-the target she was seeking.

A fig caked with dust was already poised in her sling, and she began swinging it over her head with a fierce whirling sound that seemed to set the rest of the world to silence. The people from the grove-fanning out behind her-stopped and waited. As the men on horses in the Highlands became aware of this bold girl from the grove, a mixture of amazement, indignation, and curiosity hushed their shouting. It was a frozen moment that buzzed with antic.i.p.ation.

I'm going to miss him. I know I'm going to miss him, thought Isabel as the sling spun faster and faster over her head.

Lord Phineus sat high on his horse, almost amused by the child's play. Shifting his gaze to the land beyond, he wished the Highlands would finish its descent so that he could ride through the villages, aiming his spear where he chose. He could almost imagine spurring his horse into a grand leap over the edge of the Highlands. She just might make it without breaking a leg, and then he could lead his forty men as a general should.

He chose to speak instead.

"If you can hear me, I order you to turn back! Do not dare to think that you can enter the Highlands. There will be bloodshed if you try!" He felt the power of his voice rippling over the village and into the grove.

It struck him then that the people weren't sick as he thought they ought to have been. He had thought only of victory as the Highlands crashed downward, but now he understood that his plan had somehow gone horribly wrong.

Then: Snap! Isabel had grown accustomed to the long sling, and she watched as the black fig shot through the air toward her target.

Lord Phineus had been unwise to dismiss the threat of a small girl. He saw the approaching object too late, a mere second before it was about to hit him. He ducked to the side and the black fig, which Isabel had aimed at his chest, hit him square in the meat of his shoulder.

The pain was sharp and instantaneous. Lord Phineus pitched forward on his horse and found that he was in a haze of orange dust. He waved his hands and felt his throat constricting, and then he began to cough as he had never coughed before.

Isabel had agreed to throw only one fig, to show those from the Highlands what she and the others were capable of, to show them they should not come into the grove. But in the tension of the confrontation, she couldn't help herself. She thought that if she could hit him just once more, their leader would be down and the will to fight would leave the rest of them. When Lord Phineus looked up, Isabel was already swinging the sling over her head again.

He heard the snap! once more.

In that instant, he pulled the reins of his horse, and the animal reared onto its hind legs. The fig slammed into the horse's neck, and a plume of dust shot into the air. Lord Phineus got his wish to fly off the cliff on his horse, for the startled animal bolted the moment its legs. .h.i.t the ground, and over the edge the two of them went.

The horse landed surprisingly well but seemed in a mad rage when it hit the ground, charging at full speed toward the grove with Lord Phineus coughing and wheezing on its back. None of the other men followed suit. They seemed more inclined to wait a little longer until the fall wasn't quite so steep. Some were already contemplating a retreat at the sight of a hundred men and women from Tabletop in a line of their own, readying their slings.

The Highlands came alive again, and this time the grinding of the last ten feet was so deafening that everyone in Tabletop covered their ears and looked on in wonder. The horses bucked and ran in every direction until the Highlands were but a few inches from the bottom. It lurched to a violent stop, then seemed to crawl the last few inches with a soft, gurgling noise.

The Highlands were no more.

When Lord Phineus reached the first trees of the grove, he found that he could not sit up on the horse without smashing into a tree limb. He hung around the animal's neck as the animal darted between trees, racing in mad terror until its lungs were so infected with the orange dust it could run no more. The horse began to act as though it might topple over, and Lord Phineus briskly dismounted, buckling over and coughing so hard it dropped him to his knees. When he stood up again the horse was on its side, wheezing painfully.

Lord Phineus now realized he was approaching the clearing where Mr. Ratikan's house had been. He had drawn his sword and wanted to use it on someone, anyone on whom he could unleash his rage. He couldn't possibly run with his lungs so tight, and it would be a long walk back to find his men. He was badly in need of water, and for a moment wished he'd not restricted the supply to Tabletop.

"Mr. Ratikan?" It hurt his throat to say the man's name. "Where are you?"

There was no reply, but soon he thought he heard a man coughing. Turning to his left, he saw Mr. Ratikan tied to a tree.

"You didn't hear me when I called?" said Lord Phineus, his voice raspy and labored. He approached Mr. Ratikan with a fury.

"I had been sleeping...," Mr. Ratikan said, and immediately wished he hadn't, but it was too late.

"You have failed me," said Lord Phineus. "They have the dust you gathered from the trees." He coughed ferociously, and a great orange ball of something very nasty flew out of his mouth and dripped from his chin to the ground. He wiped his face with his sleeve.

Lord Phineus listened to Mr. Ratikan berate the people who worked for him, promising he would soon bring things under control if only he were freed from the tree. But Lord Phineus responded by pointing his sword at Mr. Ratikan. The man begged for mercy, which only served to enflame Lord Phineus's cruelty.

I'm afraid we shall not be hearing anything more in this story from mean Mr. Ratikan.

Sir Emerik's skill at climbing the ranks of power did not carry over to the battlefield, and he found an instant distaste for the management of men at war. The people in the Village of Rabbits wasted no time in hurling hundreds of poisoned black figs at Sir Emerik and his men. By the time the Highlands crashed into Tabletop, Sir Emerik had grave doubts as to whether he could subdue the people of the village.

Half of his forty men were already coughing so hard they could barely stay atop their steeds, while the other half seemed completely unsure of what they should do. When Sir Emerik called the charge, he himself turned his horse and bolted for the safety of the House of Power. The rest of his men endured a violent shower of black figs until they felt no choice remained but to retreat.

There were two, however, who truly were men of violence, and these two rushed into the village between the flying figs with their swords drawn. But two men with swords and horses are no match for a hundred angry villagers. Briney and Maude had instructed everyone not to throw poisoned figs in the village, to protect it from the poison's effects. Instead, they were to use clubs fashioned from trees in the grove.

It was a second line of defense, and the moment the two riders met with it, they wished they'd never come so close. They were both overcome by the mob, struck over and over again until they were knocked free from their horses. Once the two men were down, the horses galloped away, leaving them on foot to face a throng of club-wielding men.

"That's enough!" said Briney as the men prepared to beat the two until they dropped their swords. He looked at the Highland men. "Leave your weapons and go."

The two stood back to back and seemed unwilling to comply.

"We won't harm you," said Briney. "But you must leave those to us." He pointed to the swords.

One of the men seemed ready to agree, but the other had always held that those in Tabletop were there to serve. Enraged, he lunged at Briney with his sword. The moment he did was his last, for clubs rained down on his head more quickly than he could have imagined. The second of the two men dropped his weapon and backed away, then ran all the way back to the House of Power.

Owing to a complete lack of guidance in the absence of Sir Philip, the forty men of the Highlands who presided over the Village of Sheep met with similar results. Having no true experience with warfare only added to their confusion when hundreds of hard black objects laced with poison were thrown in their direction. Still, they did not enjoy the luxury of a man such as Sir Emerik, whose cowardice would have pointed them home sooner than they went. All but three of them were hit at least once, and some as many as three times, by flying figs and orange dust. A tremendous roar of coughing and wheezing increased the clamor of battle as they rode on through a storm of figs, and a heavy engagement ensued.

It was this battle, along with the one in the grove that we shall speak of next, that set Atherton's course to violence. Men on both sides fell in the Village of Sheep that day, and when it was over, most of those from the House of Power had sustained injuries of one sort or another. It was the only battle of the three in which the Highland horses were captured and kept, for shepherds are very good with animals and see the beauty and gentleness of them no matter the size.

When Lord Phineus finally found his way back to his troops, it was quickly apparent the battle hadn't gone as he'd hoped. Many from his small army had already fallen by the club. He spotted ten men who remained on horses. All the rest had, it seemed, turned back or lay lifeless on the ground.

One horse and rider had wandered close to the grove, searching for their leader. Both the animal and the man on it seemed uninjured. Lord Phineus broke into a run, which was terribly painful on his heaving chest, and met the man halfway.

"There you are, Lord!" shouted the man. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Get off that horse!" commanded Lord Phineus. The man hesitated to dismount the steed. If he were left on this side of the opposing forces, how would he make it back alive? He reached his hand down toward his master.

"We can both ride to safety. Take my hand," said the man.

Lord Phineus drew his sword and commanded the man on the horse once more, and then he heard a sound from the grove-snap! A split second later a black fig hit the man on the horse square in the forehead with a loud pop! The man's head jerked backward and then his whole body flopped forward onto the neck of the horse and he slid off the side to the ground.

Lord Phineus mounted the horse and kicked it brutally, listening for another snap! from the grove. He heard the sound as he rode off, but the black fig missed its target and whizzed high past his head. Lord Phineus looked over his shoulder and spotted Isabel running toward him.

That girl! She has been the cause of all my trouble today!

He turned his horse sharply, but the moment he did Lord Phineus saw that Isabel had loaded her sling once again and was swinging it over her head.

Lord Phineus knew that he'd been beaten, and the thought of it enraged him. And yet, there was still one way known just to him that would allow him to maintain his power. He needed only to get back to the House of Power.

With a renewed vigor he sped past his own men without a word, and those who were able fell in behind him amidst a triumphant roar from the people of the grove.

CHAPTER.

25.

THE DARK PLANET.

Dr. Kincaid pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. He was old, but he was in surprisingly good condition. It was true his face was aged, but the rest of him seemed slow to catch up.

"Let's go inside out of the sun for a while, shall we?" He helped Edgar out of his chair, though Edgar was feeling a new strength. He had rested a full night, drank like he never had before, and had a belly full of nourishing food. For a boy of Edgar's background, this was more good fortune all at once than he had ever received.