Schisms

by V. A. Jeffrey

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The month of Kiphaz, 1685 A.T.V.

  Zigal had never seen such signs in the sky before. First, the blood pour of stars during the child's birth and now, this strange storm. She felt numb and lost without the Lady Diti, the true queen, in her heart. Lady Diti had instructed her to pretend to act as a spy for the queen and it had worked. Or so she thought, at first. She finished her cup of mother's tea, to make more milk in her breasts. The babe, now just eight weeks old, nursed quietly as she wept softly. It was only a week ago that she had found out even worse news. Lady Diti had fallen from her balcony window and now this message. Where could she flee to that would be safe for a young baby? And now there was this dreadful storm! She had no time to grieve properly and dared not do it openly with the queen's spies around. The message had been slipped under the door late one night, a few weeks ago, after the maidservant had left.

  She waited until he was finished nursing, wrapped him in swaddling cloths and she put him in his cradle and took out her knife from underneath the cradle covers and slipped it under her robes. She quickly wiped her face. She was being watched like prey under the eyes of jackals. She would have to take quick action and it meant the death of one of the queen's servants. Tryga, who trailed her like a shadow had forced Zigal to curtail her movements. And she wondered about the black cat. She was sure that it was a messenger cat but this night she felt an alarming sensation within, like a soul-scream impelling her to move upon the Lady Diti's words or else all would fail. There was no time for planning. If this child is the one foretold, may I escape, unseen. . .

  “Tryga, the baby's swaddlings are all dirty. We will need more for tomorrow.” The room was flooded with light from the flickering lightening, making everything turn to a shadow-self for fleet moments. The maidservant seemed wholly unaffected by this. Most people feared such storms. Most people who were reverent and had the fear of the gods in them, but she wondered about this sinister woman who served the queen. She wondered about the queen as well but there was no time for wondering this night.

  “Yes, Zigal. I will have some ready by the morning. Will there be anything else?” She said in that cold, sharp voice. Tryga's eyes, which looked like black holes in her face bored into hers.

  “No, except that please take these bands of linen and wool to the wash rooms. They stink and I cannot take the smell.” She lifted up a neat bundle of dirty swaddling bands for the maidservant. As she approached she slipped the knife from her robes, it's long blade cold against her skin. She shoved the sack against the woman and then with a quick, powerful motion jabbed the blade into the side of her torso, deep into the kidneys. The maidservant began to cry out. Zigal shoved the woman to the ground, took the sack and smothered her face with it and turned the knife. And kept the sack over her head until the maidservant's body finally lay still. She listened for any sound. There was no sound that she could hear except the thunder. She detected a moving shadow under a chair. It was the queen's cat. She took the knife and threw it at the cat. The cat disappeared swiftly into the other bedroom, her room. The blade missed its mark and stood rooted in the rug. She picked it up, wiped it off and slid it beneath her robes next to her waist. Zigal took the baby and put him in a carrying sack and tied it along her shoulder and put this under her robes and she snatched the keys from Tryga's tunic. She was free from the room, at least. They had taken to locking her in with the baby at night. She opened the doors and looked around. Far down the hall she heard a guard approaching. She could see the slip of his shadow against the wall down the hall. She turned the other way and slipped down, covering her head with her veil. She looked like a fat, old woman, an extremely religious one who covered her face. Good enough disguise. There was a door that the servants used not far from here and now that it was night there would not be much movement for a few hours still. She thought she could hear eerie, creeping noises everywhere. She began to sweat and the baby began to stir. She found the narrow door, one of many in the palace that took one behind the walls and rooms of the king and queen and their councilors and officers and into the bowels of the palace; the workrooms and the servants' quarters, and finally leading to a secret tunnel out into the city. There were still a few secret places in the palace the queen did not know of. From there she would have to find the old, forgotten cistern that led into the abandoned catacombs underneath Jhis, to an underground river, which led to the city that was not named above the ground. She feared as to whether she would make it with the child. Zigal said a silent prayer, shed tears for her dear lady and her regret over slaying Tryga. She took a torch from its sconce and fled in the storm by this dark and secret way.