Chapter 18: Hall of Statues
The large mess hall in the Parli jail had changed so much since the last time Oldo had been there. It was now crowded once more. Not with criminals in yellow tunics but with people from a small town by the bay. They stood or sat or lay without a thought as to where they were or what they were doing there. They could not see the dreary walls around them, nor hear the birds circling outside looking for food. They could not even smell the sea breeze lofting through an open window high above.
Oldo stepped around one statue and gazed down into the eyes of another. It was an older man; in fact he was very old. He sat on the floor and looked upwards. Something seemed almost regal about this old man. Oldo nodded to him and continued on to the next statue as someone ran up behind him. This person stood behind Oldo and waited for him to acknowledge his presence.
“The magic is so strange isn’t it?” Oldo said dreamily as he stared at the statues. “Take away a small object out of an entire region and this is what happens to those in that region. I’m not really sure how it works, but I guess that’s why they call it magic. It can’t be explained by natural laws.”
“Sir, a new batch is arriving as we speak. Where do you want them?”
“I don’t know. I’ll get someone in here to push these here closer together, then we will be able to fit more.”
“Yes sir.” The person ran back out of the mess hall.
Oldo studied a few more statues before someone else came into the room. Just by the way this person dragged their feet across the floor he automatically knew who it was.
“Gyrd, back so soon?”
“Yes sir I am.” Gyrd had a cheerful sound in his voice.
“Good news?” Oldo asked looking to Gyrd for the first time. “By Ijnus, are you still wearing that ridiculous thing? It looks horrid on anyone. It looked extra horrid on me.”
Gyrd still wore the old palace guards’ uniform with the multi colored jacket and oversized pants.
“Yes sir I am. But I have good news. There is one less rose to worry about.”
Oldo lost his evil grimace for a moment in awe. “Only one remains. The mountain rose. The last golden rose.”
“Are there not two remaining?”
“No, Ijnus’s sword was never made into a rose. It is still a sword somewhere under the palace. But we can worry about that later. Only one rose remains. My new orders are to have all our troops go to the mountains. And I mean all of them, even those new recruits from the Rough Region.”
Gyrd shook his head. “They are not trained yet. We should only advance to the mountains with those that are.”
Oldo grabbed Gyrd’s jacket. “You do as I say, and I say take them with you.”
“Yes sir.” Gyrd apologized.
“Where are the roses now?”
“Placed exactly where you said they should be . . . sir—Oldo.”
Oldo let go of Gyrd’s jacket and told him to leave. Gyrd obliged and jogged out of the mess hall. He left out the part where he was unable to find the palace. Once outside again he looked to the boat they had stolen from the harbor. It was resting just off from the rocks. Gyrd reached into his jacket and felt the pedals of a rose hidden deep in his pocket. A satisfied smile crossed his mischievous face.