Red's CD Project Story 2: Part 36 – Confrontations

Note: Well the end is quickly approaching. I'll be glad to be through, and take a break from the stress of writing this. I am actually excited to get to editing and honing this tale. I've found problems and issues, and I think once I get this all through I'll have a better idea how all this needs shaped. Needless to say, the writing also needs a lot of work. Sigh.

Disc 2
Track 15: Neon Tiger – The Killers

“I don’t wanna be broke; I don’t wanna be saved.”

Nothing east of the Belnor compared neither in size nor in architectural prowess to Metahischoo. Standing before the stone slab where the main entrance should have been, one could not see where the red granite, polished smooth, of the outer wall ended and the sky began. On rare clear moments on the Veris, Oan had seen that only the peak of Kekur behind dwarfed the outer wall in height.

The top of the wall was not smooth, but was jagged like a sharp set of teeth. From a distance, the palace blended into the mountain behind it. If a man did not know that it was there, he would miss it completely despite its size.

Oan and Nestor spent the day searching out any sort of entry other than the sealed main way. As the light started to fade, the joy they had felt upon reaching the palace began to fade. All this way they had traveled only to be blocked from the hallowed place. The witch had promised answers when they reached Metahischoo. Perhaps, the only answer was that there was no way across the Belnor. Not here, not anywhere.

Nestor gathered anything that would burn for a fire. The resources near were scarce. Neither man would last if they had to stay here more than a few days.

Something else grew in Oan’s heart. He had ignored the feeling earlier, but now it made his whole face twitch. After all the hunts in the tall grass of the great plain where even a gentle wind passed in a long wave; after every deep wooded excursion with no more than a spear and his skin; after climbing the flat wall of a cliff into a cave armed with only a knife and his courage; his skills were ignorant of one essential trait. Hunting had a definite feelling. A smell. A sound that killed the life that saturated the air.

Being hunted was much the same. Except the hunted did not tend notice nearly in time.

“What eats at you boy?” Nestor said, striking two small gray stones together for a spark. Twice more and he had some kindling smoking. “Is it the door, my boy? I think we’ll find it. There’s some trick to it, I can feel it dangling before our noses.”

“Nay, it’s not that.” Oan circled behind Nestor, his back to the stone slab that would not budge to admit them.

“Then what is it?” Nestor bent over to blow on the fire and that little movement probably saved his life.

“We’re not alone.”

The words had barely left Oan’s lips when an arrow whizzed past where Nestor’s head had been and skimmed past Oan’s right hip. He went for his sword secured on his back, but another arrow appeared from the heavy gray world and struck him square in the shoulder. The force drove him backward into the stone slab, he could hear the arrowhead sticking out of his back clinked against the hard surface. His skin burned and ached where it tried to heal around the arrow.

Stunned, but not stupid, Oan made to pull the arrow out, but before he could another one pierced through the palm of his left hand. Nestor watched in horror, but rolled away toward his spear.

Against the gray backdrop figures started to appear, some short, only to Oan’s waist. Others tall and thick-shouldered lumbered behind. A few more were his height. He stayed completely still, knowing that the archer was shooting at his movement.

Breathing deep to allow the air to fill his lungs, he thought deep about his hunts. How had his most sly prey behaved before being caught? If this was death, he wanted it to be done honorably. Then he thought of the possum, and he made a quick jerk to his right.

Another arrow escaped the gray and white, hitting him square in the stomach. The pain was immense, and a darkness hozered at the edge of his vision. Falling to the ground, he thought of the possum once more befor closing his eyes.

* * *

“Stay here,” Meriam pulled a hood over the girl’s head. The old riding coat that Meriam found in the stables was hopefully enough to disguise the girl to allow them to escape the palace unnoticed. The guards placed outside of the door had left when the army from Stra had arrived in the city. The army had everyone on edge. There were some among the guards that wanted to attack despite being terribly outnumbered and the king’s order for peace. The sight of the dragon flag raised the old blood in folks around here. Memories passed down through generations of the battles between Isa and Besa flooded even Meriam’s senses. Satar had mended that old divide. No one here wanted the rebirth of either of those old kingdoms.

The old kingdoms and the army and all the things she could not control were no more than distractions from the cold key in her hand and the colder door behind her. She dreaded sticking the key in the door and turning the jamb to see what lay behind. It terrified her even more than the journey before them. While lonely, terrifying nights lay ahead, the woman lingering alone inside the room frightened Meriam more.

Confronting royalty, begging one to betray her husband, was treason against the order that Meriam built her life upon. Chilling her blood more than that was the woman. It had been weeks since she had left that room. Meriam was not sure what if anything remained of the woman, the Queen of Satar.

Meriam turned away from the girl, clutching the key tight in her hand. The trusted servants had keys to every room. If a king or queen forbade entry to one room, the servants listened and put the keys away till the order was lifted. Using this key was the point of no return. Entering the queen’s room after Eden had forbid it made her a criminal. She supposed that it was a minor offense compared to the things to come. Taking one last breath, she slipped the key into the hole below the knob, turned it till it clicked.

“Nnnnnnn.” A voice, one that sounded almost like a dying animal, squeeked as the door opened.

Meriam rushed in, closing the door behind her to keep the scene from the girl. Guttural noises came from the body covered by a sheet, once white but now badly stained yellow, brown and red. The room stank of sweat and urine and something else foul that Meriam chose not to investigate.

A thin strip of light sneaking through a crack in the thick drapes split the gray dark settled over the rest of the room. The light hit the swollen, pale face propped against a pillow at the headboard. Meriam had attended plenty of deathbeds, but none quite like this where the eternal everafter ached to claim one more life. Even the long sleep pitites this woman.

“I need no attending,” Kendra’s voice mustered every bit of authority she had left. “Please, leave me be.”

Crossing the room, Meriam saw not anger flash in the sagging skin and weary eyes of the queen’s face, but only another level of grief and humiliation that probably had more effect on Meriam than any amount of scolding. She thought of a starving beat dog looking at the woman. Who would do this? How could they? This woman was the jewel of a kingdom, strong and graceful in each elegant step.

“Please,” Kendra begged again.

Mustering the last of her courage, Meriam spoke.

“Lady, I must disobey, and beg that you not suffer any longer under such conditions,” Meriam grabbed the curled left hand of the woman, feeling at least one broken finger. “King Eden is mad. He has allowed a hostile army into the city flying the banner of Isa led by his cousin Cortobrane.”

Meriam stopped as Kendra sobbed loudly, pulling her hand away.

“Leave me, leave me.”

“Lady, I have arranged safe passage from here. A horse, mayhap even two, down behind the stables. We must steal away, immediately. This is the only chance.”

“No, leave me.”

“Lady, I have your daughter ready to flee. Please, she needs her mother.”

Kendra sat up and, for the first time, composed herself at the mention of her daughter. The weeks of torment washed away in that moment, and she assumed her own throne, even if her throne was a tainted bed for an equally tainted couple. Hope tugged at Meriam’s heart. Maybe the woman was not so lost after all.

“Your charge, mistress, is to carry my daughter away from here and care for until the time that she no longer needs such watching. Go now, and if you follow only one of my order, let that be it.”

“I will, my Queen, but please, I have planned for three. I can care for thee also.”

“No,” Kendra straightened the sheet atop her and gave the two lumps at the foot of the bed a cold stare. “My husband has made sure such excursions will not occur for me.”

Following Kendra’s eyes, Meriam took a deep breath before reaching for the sheet and lifting it up. Below was a horror that Meriam had never imagined. Both of Kendra’s ankles were cruelly bent out and broke, huge purple-black mushrooms grew at the joint. The tips of her toes were a faint green. The woman’s feet were soon going to need to be amputated. Vomit stuck in Meriam’s throat. A new sadness sank into Meriam’s heart. There was no way Meriam could get this woman past all the guards in this state. Even if she did, Kendra needed more care than Meriam could give. Kendra’s sad fate was sealed. Meriam allowed herself the first of many tears to escape her right eye.

“No tears, mistress, “ Kendra consoled. “This will all soon end. I fear that I may be lucky to avoid the doom that may come later.”

“I am sorry,” Meriam shook her head. “I should have acted sooner.”

“Hush, woman.” Kendra shrugged her off. “I ask two more things.”

“Anything, my Queen.”

“Go to my dresser in yonder closet,” Kendra pointed and Meriam followed. “In the top drawer, I have my undergarments. Open that drawer and reach far into the back and bring what you find.”

Meriam did as she was bade, reaching deep till her hand found something hard and smooth. Pulling it out, she found she grasped the golden hilt of a small dagger. Gasping, she nearly dropped it before gaining her composure.

“My Queen, I…”

“Hush, child, bring it to me.”

Meriam did as she was bade. When Kendra had the blade, she quickly tucked it under her sheet.

“Now, bring my daughter, I wish to say goodbye to her.”

Meriam hesitated again, but thought better of objecting. Opening the door, the girl stood beyond it, pale and frightened under the dark hood.

“Come in my daughter,” Kendra said.

Evandra broke into a run, and covering the distance in a flash. Equally as quick, she grasped her mother’s hand. The two smiled at one another, and Meriam wanted nothing more than to capture that moment forever. In it was the closeness between a mother and daughter that was like nothing else

“I am too sick my daughter,” Kendra said, Meriam had not even heard the conversation start. “I cannot go with you and Meriam.”

The girl objected, but Kendra brought a finger up to her mouth to stop it before it gained strength.

“It has too be so,” The tears were running uncontrolled now among all three. “I love you. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I love you mother.”

“You must mind Meriam from now on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Now embrace me, I have one more thing to say for you ears only.”

Meriam stepped back, understanding that those little words being whispered from mother to daughter were the last the two would share. The girl tensed hearing whatever was said, but did not reveal what it was that her mother passed on. Those words were for Evandra. A secret, mayhap. One that only Kendra knew and that now had passed on to her daughter. Whatver it was, it aged the girl seemingly five years before Meriam’s eyes. When she turned around, the girl was no longer suited for toy figurines and the other trappings of childhood. In fact, she was no longer a girl at all, but a young woman.

Only moments later, they were gone, shutting the door behind them, and hurrying out the royal apartment, down the hall, following the exact route that Meriam had mapped out in her mind the night before. Kendra Perde, wife of Eden, was left to her own, lightly running the sharp tip of the dagger up and down her pale arms. The long dark neared the room then, lingered, entered and patiently waited.