The Vote
There was a brief silence and then David stepped away from Sultan and strode decisively forward to stand at the very foot of Charlie’s plinth. He turned to face the crowd, scanning the rows of faces.
‘So, our king speaks out for execution,’ he roared. ‘But this is the twenty-first century. So why don’t we put it to the vote?’ He looked up at Charles. ‘Democracy is very popular these days and I’m sure Your Majesty would wish to bow to the times?’
Charles looked aghast. ‘Well, I…’
‘Very good, Your Majesty, I thought you’d see it that way!’ David turned his face back to the crowd. ‘Statues of Edinburgh!’ he said. ‘Let me hear your thoughts on this matter. Who thinks the innocent young boy should forfeit his life for this transgression?’
A great roar went up from the crowd and Ed’s heart nearly stopped beating in his chest.
‘Oh dear,’ he heard the Colonel mutter.
David waited until the yells and whoops had died down, then he looked hopefully around the assembly again. ‘And… who would prefer to be enlightened and merciful? Who says he should be allowed to live?’
Another cheer went up and though the Colonel yelled as enthusiastically as he could, it was horribly clear to Ed that the first cheer had been by far the loudest. He felt his blood turning to ice in his veins. This wasn’t looking promising. Once again David waited for the last sounds to die away before he spoke. ‘It would seem that unlike recent historical events in this city, the ‘Yes’ vote has been the most vociferous. And so, this young lad is to face the ultimate penalty. The king has spoken and his subjects have spoken. His Majesty shall need then, one man from amongst you to step forward and actually perform the execution. Now… which of you shall it be?’
There was a long, long silence. Ed held his breath and hoped for the best.
‘Oh, come along,’ urged David, walking backwards and forwards at the base of the plinth, gazing at the crowd as he did so. ‘You all seemed so keen to have him despatched. Which one of you will volunteer for the job?’
Another silence.
‘Surely one of you?’
An even longer silence.
‘Somebody? Anybody?’
Not one statue seemed prepared to step forward. David turned his head to look at Ed and gave him a tight-lipped smile, before continuing. ‘Funny, isn’t it, that so many of us are happy to bellow our demands? And yet, when it comes to action, so few are prepared to back them up with deeds. And lucky for you, boy, that this city has never commissioned a statue of any of its famous executioners.’ He turned and lifted his gaze to the king. ‘It would appear, Your Majesty, that nobody is prepared to take the boy’s life. Unless of course, you’d be prepared to do it personally?’
Charles looked down at David, a glare of anger on his face. ‘I?’ he growled. ‘The king? Reduced to the role of a common executioner? I really don’t think so!’
‘In that case, Your Majesty, I would suggest that your only option is to pardon him.’
Charles narrowed his eyes and shook his head. ‘You go too far, Dr Livingstone,’ he growled. Then he seemed to soften a little. His mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘Oh, very well,’ he said. He lifted a hand into the air. ‘The softie is pardoned.’
There was a commotion from the crowd then, a mixture of anger and delight. It was clear that most statues belonged in the first camp, but it was just as obvious that they weren’t about to go against the decision of their king. ‘Now, be on your way,’ cried Charlie. ‘Go and see to the things you have to do and I shall meet with you all again tonight at the Agon, where hopefully we will enjoy a good evening’s entertainment.’ He pointed to David. ‘You and the Colonel shall remain behind,’ he added. ‘And we’ll see what’s to be done about the boy.’
Ed remembered to breathe. He sat there waiting as the crowd began to disperse, drifting off in various directions. As they trudged past, several statues threw grudging looks in Ed’s direction. David wandered back to his companions and gave Ed a wink.
‘That was close,’ murmured the Colonel. ‘For a moment there, I thought it was going to end badly.’
‘You wouldn’t have let them do it, would you?’ asked Ed.
‘I don’t see how we’d have stopped them,’ admitted David. ‘We were somewhat outnumbered.’
‘You pulled a brilliant trick there,’ murmured the Colonel. ‘But be warned, my friend, Charlie doesn’t like people getting the better of him.’
The last of the statues left the square, but then two new ones appeared from the entrance of the building behind the plinth, two naked men carrying a long wooden plank between them.
‘Who are they?’ whispered Ed.
‘Just a couple of Gormleys,’ said David, mysteriously. ‘They usually stand in the Waters of Leith.’
‘Yes, but who are they meant to be?’
‘That’s an interesting question. The sculptor based them all on casts of his own body. He apparently is a brilliant fellow, but because he’s still alive and because he’s diluted his intelligence into so many different figures… there are six of them in Edinburgh and goodness knows how many across the country… well, I’m afraid they’ve each inherited only a tiny part of his genius.’
‘Which means,’ added the Colonel, ‘that they’re pleasant enough, if a little dim. They’re good at doing what they’re told, which means they are given all the menial tasks at the Calling. Charlie loves them because they follow his orders without asking questions.’
‘They should put some clothes on,’ murmured Ed.
‘Indeed,’ said the Colonel. ‘It’s very unsettling. But that’s modern art for you. An excuse to shock all who look upon it.’
The Gormleys propped the plank against the side of the plinth, creating a steep gangway. The king dismounted from his horse and came down the plank, moving carefully. Ed noticed how the thick wood sagged in the middle under his weight. When Charlie was on firm ground, the horse followed and for a few moments the plank looked in real danger of snapping in two. ‘Why doesn’t he just get the horse to jump down?’ asked Ed.
‘You must be joking,’ said the Colonel. ‘Charlie and his horse are made of lead. If he tried that, they’d smash clean through the flagstones.’
Once the horse was safely down, Charlie handed the reins to one of the Gormleys and then strode closer to Ed and his companions. Ed could understand why the king felt so touchy about his appearance. He had a kind of leafy decoration perched on his head. He wore a short, girlish toga, what looked like a pair of leggings that ended at his shins and some flat sandals on his otherwise bare feet. He did look a bit of a twit, to be honest. Close up, Ed could see that he had a rather beaky nose and a round, glum face. He extended a hand and Ed shook it heartily, then realised by the Colonel’s sharp intake of breath, that he’d done something wrong again.
‘You’re supposed to kiss it!’ hissed the Colonel.
‘Oh, er… sorry. Didn’t realise.’ Ed lifted the hand to his face and kissed the back of it. It had an unpleasant taste, which he supposed must be the lead. He made an effort not to grimace. ‘Thanks, Charl… Your Majesty,’ he stammered. ‘For saving my life.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ said Charlie, his expression aloof. ‘If just one of those idiots had volunteered, this would have ended differently and been far less trouble for me.’ He looked at David. ‘You’re a slippery fellow, Dr Livingstone. Some might say too clever for your own good.’
David bowed his head. ‘Your Majesty, ‘ he said. ‘I was only trying to help.’
Charles sneered. ‘I know exactly what you were doing,’ he snapped. ‘Your insolence has been noted.’ He transferred his gaze to the Colonel. ‘So,’ he said, ‘what do you propose to do with the boy?’
‘Your Majesty?’
‘Well, we can hardly let him wander about willy nilly, can we, getting under everyone’s feet? We need to find out about him and once we know who he is, send him back to wherever he came from.’
‘But I don’t know how we’d do that,’ said David. ‘I mean, we’re not detectives, are we?’
‘I have enough to organise today without worrying about this,’ said Charlie. He thought for a moment, tapping a sandaled foot on the flagstones and then he suddenly seemed to brighten up. ‘Ah, Dr Livingstone, I declare that you have just given me a splendid idea.’
‘I have?’
‘Yes.’ Charlie turned back to look up at the Colonel. ‘A detective! Why don’t you take him to our friend in Picardy Place?’ he suggested. ‘He’s always claiming to have a talent at finding the answers to riddles.’
The Colonel frowned. ‘Do you really think he can help?’ he asked. ‘There are many who say he’s all talk and no substance.’
Charlie smiled. ‘Well, this will be his opportunity to prove them wrong, won’t it?’ he said. ‘Since he always refuses to join in the Agon or any of the other events we organise, it will be a test of his abilities.’
David seemed to be about to say something else, but the king held up a hand to silence him. ‘That’s it, I have made my decision,’ he said. ‘Colonel Alexander, you will see to this matter before you attend to anything else. And you shall impress upon our mutual friend that he has less than twenty-four hours to find a suitable solution. If he fails, I shall be far from impressed. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to.’ With that, he turned away and strode towards the huge building beyond the plinth. The Gormleys fell into step behind him, one of them leading the king’s horse by its reins. They all went in between the massive stone columns, out of sight.
The Colonel sighed. ‘Well, that’s that, I suppose,’ he said. ‘The king has spoken and we lesser beings can only obey.’ He turned to look at David. ‘I’ll head on up to Picardy Place,’ he said. ‘I dare say I’ll catch up with you later.’
David nodded. ‘Yes, at the Agon, if not before.’ He smiled up at Ed. ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for, lad. Good luck.’ He reached out a hand to shake.
‘Thanks,’ said Ed. ‘I’d say you just got me out of real trouble there.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ David turned and strolled away across the square. ‘I’m off to Our Dynamic Earth,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘I want to see what country they’re focusing on this time. It’s always entertaining but I’m still hoping that one year it’ll be Africa.’
‘Good luck,’ said the Colonel. ‘See you later!’ He wheeled Sultan around and headed back to the road. Once there, he urged the horse into a brisk trot, then a canter and finally, a gallop. Ed clung on tightly to the Colonel’s waist as they went along the road, Sultan’s metal hooves throwing out a fearsome din.
‘I don’t understand!’ shouted Ed. ‘Who is this person we’re going to see?’
But the Colonel either couldn’t hear him over the noise of Sultan’s hooves or wasn’t prepared to give an answer. So Ed clung on for dear life, as they raced on through the darkness.