Free Zenak by George S. Pappas Page B

walked toward Mara’s chambers. But before he had left the throne room, he heard someone feebly calling out to him.
    â€œMy King,” said Famad quietly from the other end of the throne room. Famad was petrified. He didn’t want to tell the king the bad news, but the captain of the guards made him because he was the only one with first-hand knowledge of the situation. Famad knew this was going to happen when he saw his comrades being melted. He had hoped that the captain of the guard would not make him face the massive king if he told him of the events quick enough. But that didn’t happen, so there he stood facing the most terrifying man he had ever seen or known.
    Zenak, upon hearing this almost silent beckoning, turned around and ordered Famad to come closer and to speak up. Famad meekly came forward, his chin resting on his chest.
    â€œThe captain of the guard said I should tell you since I saw it all,” Famad said, hoping to push his responsibili­ty off on the captain.
    â€œTell me what?” Zenak bellowed. He was quite irritated by this meek guard.
    Famad stepped back a little and then spoke up, his voice shaking, “Vokar has kidnapped Mara and the prince.”
    â€œAnd you saw it and did nothing,” Zenak yelled. His hand gripped his broadsword and Famad could feel his head resting on the cold stone floor.
    â€œHe melted my friends and comrades,” Famad cried out. “What could I do? I was helpless.”
    â€œMelted?” Zenak asked quietly to himself. His hand was red as it tightly grasped the hilt of the sword. “Go get Tenen,” Zenak ordered Famad.
    â€œI cannot,” Famad said.
    â€œYou little bastard,” Zenak yelled as he slugged Famad in the face, knocking out his few front teeth and sending him to the floor.
    Famad stayed quietly on the floor. He was bleeding heavily from his mouth and when he looked up at Zenak tears fell from his eyes. They were not tears of pain, however, but tears of sadness, for every soldier at the palace loved Tenen. Zenak stood above him, his fists clenched as he stared at the bleeding man.
    Famad then said, “Tenen is dead.” This time Famad didn’t cringe even though he felt sure that he would get kicked by Zenak’s heavy, booted foot. Instead, Zenak offered his hand to Famad and helped him off the floor.
    â€œHow did he die?” Zenak asked softly.
    â€œI didn’t see it, but it’s said that Tenen knifed him­self to death. His second woman found him sprawled on the floor lying in his blood and intestines. Also one of Mara’s silks was found by his side,” Famad said, his face spattered with his own blood.
    â€œTenen would never have knifed himself. It must have been the work of Vokar. And my Mara was probably forced to see it—that would account for her silk,” Zenak said. Zenak could read an enemy’s mind, a sword-fighting enemy, that is, and he ruled his kingdom wiser than any king before him had, but he was blind to Mara. When it came to her, he was as innocent as a three-year-old child.
    â€œThat’s true,” Famad said a little more confidently. “Vokar was implicated, but never to his face.”
    â€œCowards,” Zenak said. “When Vokar took Mara did you keep it to yourself or did anyone go after them?”
    â€œOh, I went straight to the captain of the guards and he sent four platoons out, each in a different direction,” Famad said. He was relaxed now and he felt important because his great king was relying on him for answers.
    â€œDid any of the platoons go to the east, toward Soci?” Zenak asked.
    â€œYes,” Famad said.
    â€œYes!” exclaimed Zenak. “Why didn’t I see them as I came from the east? I’m sure there was no missing us.”
    â€œMy King, I heard that the captain told the major of the platoon that was heading for the east to contact you. When I saw your army come into the city