Chapter Thirty-Seven
Consequences
Prince Carl knew he had to explain, but he felt so ashamed. He had never felt this way before, but he had never known how others had thought of him, or how badly it had affected his reputation. He realised now how much his deeds had hurt him.
Where Rolf’s accusation had caused him to feel shame, Sir Morgan’s taunts had opened his eyes to the greater consequences. He was a nobleman, a member of Court, an equal. If he thought this way, others would too. They would see him as the tailor did, as an evil murderer, as a killer of women. But no one had ever accused him of this before; no one had ever questioned it. And after all, they were only Destroyers.
No, he had never been ashamed because he had always believed what he did was just a tradition, an acceptable pass time for a Royal Prince.
How stupid.
If the tailor thought him evil, so would the greater population, from Ellerkan to Falonbeck and even beyond. If L’Roth took his place on the throne, would the people be saddened by his death? Would they protest at L’Roth’s claim? Or would they be glad to be rid of him?
Murderer, killer of women.
But they were only Destroyers! And the Hunt was part of the law!
Prince Carl sighed. These were just excuses and he knew it. He did what he did because he liked it, and until this day, it had never occurred to him that it was wrong.
“Sir Morgan spoke the truth,” he told them at last.
Anne found herself not wanting to believe it. She spoke in a whisper.
“You’ve killed women, like he said?”
“Not women, Destroyers. But the difference doesn’t really matter.” Prince Carl explained about Destroyers and the Hunt, adding this to the knowledge they had already gained. It was a dark story, filled with war and death.
“The Hunt was necessary,” he finished at last. “It was the only way to stop the killing.”
Anne was deeply saddened by the story, but more so by Carl’s admission of guilt. It was so disappointing.
“It might have been necessary then, but not now,” she said to him. “You said the war was a long time ago, so why continue all this time? Why not stop it?”
“Because no one ever cared enough to question it and because too many enjoyed the in-justice of it.”
“That’s barbaric!” Anne exclaimed. “Inhuman!”
Prince Carl nodded. “I have never realised how wrong it was until this day. Twice now I have been accused of the murder of women. And only now do I see the truth of these words. It is like a veil has been lifted from my eyes, and only now can I see myself as I truly am, as others must see me. And I do not like what I see. I am an animal. Less than an animal. I am not fit to be King.”
Prince Carl lowered his head in shame, and despite what he had done, Anne couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
It was then that Paula spoke up. “What about Indians, Miss?” she said, bafflingly.
Anne looked at her in surprise. “What?”
“Indians,” Paula repeated. “You know, Cowboys and Indians?”
“What’s that got to do with this?” Anne asked, getting annoyed.
“Miss McLean has been teaching us American History,” Paula explained, “about the conflict over land between the Native American Indians and the white settlers. You know the bit about scalping that they always show in Cowboys and Indians films? Well, it seems it was actually the civilised white people that started it, not the Indians.
“You see, at the height of the conflict, the American government used to pay a bounty for killing Indians, and the only way to prove that you’d killed one was to bring the body back. Of course that wasn’t really possible, carting a body around the countryside in all that heat, especially if you’d killed more than one. So they agreed on the scalp of an Indian being proof, as no proud Indian would let anyone take his scalp while he was still alive. All those films afterwards got it wrong, adding to the myth, and making the Indians look more savage.”
Anne now stared at Paula in even more surprise than when she had first mentioned Indians. “What are you saying? That it’s alright to kill women here because the Americans did it to Indians in the old west?”
“No,” Paula replied. “I just meant that what you think is civilised isn’t always as civilised as you think it is. People are quick to accept what’s normal, but normal is only what most people are doing most of the time. And laws make it legal.”
It was now that Linda and Christine joined in.
“Yeah, what about apartheid in South Africa?” Linda said. “That was a law. It made it all perfectly legal to be rotten to people who weren’t the same colour.”
“And there was the same sort of thing in America,” Christine added. “They were just as rotten to black people as they were to the Indians. And what about the Nazi’s?”
Finally, Jo said, “Everybody is always rotten to somebody, and you don’t always need a law to make it happen.”
Her words made the other girls become quiet. They all looked and felt uncomfortably self-conscious. Anne remembered that Jo had been bullied and picked on by the other girls in her first year. She had always been small.
“That’s why it’s wrong!” Anne said to them all. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a law or not, it’s still wrong!”
Jo looked more and more tearful as she spoke. “So what are you going to do about it, Miss? Shoot them? What about Linda? She used to pick on me! And Sophia and Berni were worse! Are you going to lock them up? Why don’t you lock them up, Miss?”
Anne suddenly didn’t know what to say, but Prince Carl did. He had been silent as the girls spoke, now he held out his arms to Jo.
“Come here, girl,” he called to her.
To Anne’s surprise, Jo went to him and sat gratefully in his open arms. Carl hugged her and spoke softly to her.
“Do not be angry with your friends, they are already punished. If people are good in heart, then the bad things they do will always torment them. This is why God gives us all a conscience, to punish us for our bad deeds even if we can conceal them from all others. We cannot conceal what we do from ourselves, and it is often our own anger at what we have done in life that hurts us most. It is easy to blame and punish others; it is harder to accept blame on oneself.
“Those that hurt you were children, like yourself. They knew no better. And who is to say that you would not have done the same if you were bigger and stronger? Now you are all older. You bear the scars of unwarranted attack, while they bear the scars of shame for those attacks. You are all friends, but each is wounded from passed events. This is part of growing up, of learning the consequences of life. For every deed and action, there is always a consequence, be it good, or bad. For you and your friends, the wounds are slight, but for me, they go a lot deeper.”
Jo wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “Why did you do it?”
Prince Carl shrugged. “Maybe it was the influence of others, or maybe just my own lust. I was seventeen the first time I took part in a Hunt. I could be forgiven for that one, I was too young to understand what I did and too shallow to deny the loss of pride had I not gone. But once tasted, I was addicted.”
Prince Carl continued to speak to Jo, but as he spoke, he watched Anne, his eyes fixed on hers.
“There is something about a Destroyer. They bear no comparison to other women I have known. In a way, you and your teacher are more like them than you are like the women of the Royal Court. They have a fire and a spirit like no other. They challenge me and are unafraid. You are the same. You show me no respect, you strike me and insult me, and you even fight with the guards who come to feed us. It is the same spirit. I love that spirit. But a Destroyer cannot be tamed.
“Each time I go on a Hunt, it is to recapture that spirit. It is so elusive and fiery. But it is also dangerous. I have seen many good men killed on the Hunt, slain by the very Destroyer we pursue. But that is part of the addiction. The stronger s
he runs and fights, the greater the danger, all this adds to the final ecstasy. But in the end I am always robbed. Each time I want her so much, but each time she fades from my grasp.”
Anne stared back at Prince Carl. “Why can’t a Destroyer be tamed? Why must you always kill her?”
“The spirit is the spirit of freedom,” Carl replied. “They pursue a different purpose to ours. They live only to fight and kill. They are free of remorse, and free of responsibility. This is the heart and cause of their spirit, and there is no turning them from it. Even so, it is possible to bond with a Destroyer, but the very nature of the bond kills this spirit of freedom.
“To bond with a male a Destroyer must be subservient to him. She must obey him and protect him. The bond kills her spirit as surely as a knife would. No, far better for her to die than have her spirit snuffed out.”
“So, you’re doing her a favour, are you?” Anne said indignantly.
Prince Carl shook his head. “I seek no pardon for my actions. What I did was wrong, I see that now. But, like the civilised people your girl spoke of, although I knew the law was unjust, I took advantage of it. I am as guilty as they, and I am sorry.”
Prince Carl became quiet once more, and no one else spoke. Even Anne didn’t speak. She was all boiled up inside. She was angry, not just with Carl, but with herself, too. It was exactly like he had said, you couldn’t hide from yourself. She was angry because she liked Carl. She liked the way he looked, she liked the way he comforted and spoke to Jo, and she liked his general manner. So what if he was a bit stuffy about being a Prince and all that? She liked him, damn it! So why did he have to let her down like that? Why did he have to be a–
She couldn’t even say it in her mind.
She was angry with herself because of the fact that she still liked him, despite what he had done. That she felt sorry for him when she should hate him and despise him. But watching him sitting there so sadly, with Jo in his arms, she just couldn’t hate him.
Anne slumped against the wall and just sat there.
Paula was sat next to Christine and Linda. She looked across at them. They both sat with their heads down. She looked at Prince Carl and Jo, sitting together, Anne just beyond them. They were the same. Everyone looked so sad. Paula sighed. Why did people always want everybody else to be so perfect?
She sat up and kicked Prince Carl on the foot. When he looked up at her she asked, “How do you know a tame Destroyer loses her spirit? Have you ever met one?”
Prince Carl nodded. “Twice. Once today, in fact.”
“And she had no spirit?”
Carl thought of Rolf and the Destroyer with him. He remembered the look in her eyes.
“The one I saw today had spirit. It was the spirit of anger and revenge. But if I had been bonded to her, her love for me would not have burned with the same power as her hatred did.”
Anne caught his meaning and she spoke without thinking. “Get away from you did she?”
Prince Carl didn’t reply. Anne could see that the truth of her words had hurt him, and she bit her lip in remorse. But he deserved it, didn’t he?
Paula kicked Carl’s foot again. “What was her name?”
For a moment Prince Carl couldn’t think. What had Rolf called her? Then he remembered.
“She was called Soo-Kai,” he told Paula. “She had her–”
Prince Carl stopped in mid-sentence when he remembered the girls that had been with them. He stared at the four girls in the dungeon, and then he looked across at Anne.
“How many girls did you say you had?” he asked her.
Anne looked puzzled. “Fifteen. Why?”
Carl seemed thoughtful. He ignored her question and asked her another. “There are four girls here. You said two more were in the castle?”
“Yes. But why–”
“That leaves nine!”
Anne sat up. Prince Carl was obviously excited about something, and it had to do with her and the girls. His excitement instantly passed to her.
“What is it?” she demanded. “What have you remembered?”
“The tailor, Rolf, and the Destroyer who was bonded to him! They had nine girls with them!”
Anne felt her heart explode. “Nine? Are you sure?”
Prince Carl nodded.
“And they were dressed like my girls? All in the same uniform?”
“No, they were not. And because of this I had thought that they were their own, bred from their union. I told you you were more like Destroyers than the women here. Only now have I seen the truth! They were dressed like Destroyers, but they were not Destroyers!”
“What did they look like?” Anne demanded, wanting firm proof before she could allow herself to believe it.
The girls were just as excited as Anne now, and Paula interrupted Carl before he could answer.
“Never mind that!” she said. “Just think of two of them. Were they black skinned?”
Prince Carl stared at her and smiled. “Yes! Two with the skin of night!”
The girls cheered and Anne sighed with relief. “Vanessa and Berni. They’re all alive.”
In the Shadow of Mountains: The Lost Girls Page 38
