‘There is much to tell,’ he replied. ‘But may I offer you a seat first?’ He swept his hand towards two small chairs near his open fire. ‘Something to drink as well?’
Glancing at the chairs my stomach knotted. I’d never sat on anything so small my entire life, and what would he bring me to drink? ‘I…I would like that very much,’ I muttered, taking a seat. To my relief, it was comfortable, but I remained stiff, the years of royal training keeping me on edge. I pushed the discomfort aside and tried to relax.
He found two goblets and filled them with wine, his fingers brushed mine as he passed one to me. A lightning bolt swept up my arm, emanating from the point of contact. He sat a respectful distance away, focusing on the cup clutched in his hands. He seemed reluctant to speak.
‘Tell me of your day?’ I asked again.
He nodded and inhaled slowly. ‘Again I would humbly like to thank my Majesty, for allowing me the opportunity to…’
‘Aydin,’ I interrupted. ‘While I’m in your home, I want you to speak with me as you would anyone else.’
I’m not sure which of us was more shocked by the comment, it had left my mouth before I realized what I was saying. We both sat silent for a moment.
‘Very well,’ he eventually responded. ‘I will get to the point. I knew of the illness that plagued the city, but what I saw today still shocked me. The people are cursed with diseases of both mind and body. The attacks are random. The elderly, children, men, women—all are affected. Though the poor seem to suffer most. I saw afflictions I have no documents for. I took many notes, and I plan to experiment with different tonics. I only hope I do more good than harm.’
I sat there watching his lips move, but I heard very little after this. Was he speaking about my people, about my kingdom? How could all this be occurring just outside these walls? How had I not seen it? My false existence was thrust in my face, yet he kept going, never taking his eyes from his cup, utterly unaware of the horrible reality dawning on me.
His recount ended, and he fell silent, but before I could respond his chin lifted slightly. ‘I would like to ask permission to go again tomorrow,’ he added. ‘You now know that I will return.’
Heat rose in my cheeks, and I looked to the ceiling. I was overcome but determined to learn the truth. I swallowed painfully. ‘You may go, but this time I will go with you.’
He stiffened. ‘You cannot my Majesty, it is not safe.’
I looked at him and his gaze dropped. ‘Why? Because my people would harm me?’
‘I…I was referring to you becoming ill. As I said, it does not discriminate.’
His hesitation spoke the truth.
‘You put yourself close to them,’ I challenged.
‘I’m of no consequence. You are Queen.’
‘And as your Queen, I’m telling you I will accompany you tomorrow.’
His grip tightened on his cup. ‘As you wish my Majesty,’ he mumbled. ‘I shall find clothes for your disguise.’
As I lay in bed reliving the past few hours, I wondered why I was doing this. What was I hoping to prove? Was I doing it because I cared about my people, or because I cared about Aydin’s opinion of me? Only one of these made me a queen. And what if something did go wrong? What if I did get sick? No matter my doubts, I knew I had to do this. But how would I get past Samuel? He watched me like a snake hunting prey. I only hoped the gods would be kind to me tomorrow.
The next morning, I crept from my chamber after I dressed and had breakfast. I had barely taken a dozen steps before a familiar voice filled my wake.
‘Good morning my Majesty.’
I inhaled and turned with a false smile. ‘Good morning Samuel.’
He did not even try to hide the scrutiny as his eyes ran the length of my body, lingering on my chest. ‘You look especially lovely today my Majesty,’ he said boldly.
His comment gave me an idea. ‘Thank you Samuel, but I don’t feel at all lovely, so I have decided to visit the treatment rooms.’
His perfect lips slid into a sly smile. ‘Shame, I will miss your company, but I hope you have an enjoyable time never the less.’
My skin prickled with discomfort. I nodded, smiled, and left. I almost felt like I did need a bath to wash the encounter away.
I wove through several passages till I reached a small storeroom, where I’d hidden a modest cloak the night before. I retrieved it and put it on, flicking the hood over my hair. With one last glance over my shoulder, I darted down the passage that took me to the forecourt. It was bright outside, and I waited just inside the doorway as my eyes adjusted.
It was market day—an event I’d watched more than once from the terrace. I’d seen the crowds and heard the noise, but I wasn’t prepared for either up close. Here at ground level, everything amplified; I felt so small and insignificant. I peered out at the crowded stalls, each owner was yelling louder than the next, trying to sell their wares. Bright swathes of material and animal skins flapped in the breeze, and the smell of meat cooking made my mouth water. There were piles of jewelry, mounds of colored spice, and the pathways were full of jugglers, hawkers, and children running between legs. It was overwhelming, and I pulled the hood of my cloak tighter. I took a rib breaking breath and stepped into the market. It was the first time I’d ever walked amongst my people, and my hands were slippery with sweat.
A large man bumped into me nearly knocking me over. He grunted and kept walking. I regained my balance, but then someone else crashed into me. Stunned and confused, I quickly realized that I needed to move with the crowd. I turned and started walking, hoping I was going in the right direction. The hood was so tight I could barely see, and I was only game enough to sneak the odd glimpse as the throng jostled me about.
Finally, I saw Aydin’s residence. I broke free of the crowd and shot towards his door. I knocked quietly, still a little baffled by the simple action. He took longer to open this time. His towering figure appeared, and he stood back, as I stepped past.
‘Well, as you can see, I have a cloak,’ I stated, trying to regain some confidence. ‘But I should still probably change the rest of my clothing.’
He shut the door, dulling the raucous market. His eyes moved subtly over my dress. ‘That would be wise, my Majesty.’
With no visible emotion, he picked up a bundle of rags from a nearby chair. I glanced at the brown material wondering what he was doing. He held it out, and I realized it was clothes.
‘You can’t be serious,’ I protested.
His arm dropped. ‘If you’d rather not come, I completely understand.’
So, this was his plan, he believed I wouldn’t lower myself to dress in these garments. I lifted my chin. ‘Very well then, if that is all you could acquire, it will have to do.’
I snatched the dress and stormed into his sleeping room, slamming the door behind me. I held the dress up in disgust, the dull brown material felt rough in my soft hands. I frowned, trying to hold on to my anger, but it soon faded when I realized it was much finer than most of the dresses I’d seen worn in the market. I sighed heavily and silently chastised myself.
I moved to the center of the room, taking a moment to look around. A simple bed lay in one corner, and an oil lamp stood by a pile of parchments. His few clothes sat neatly on a plank supported by two stones. The whole room was completely bereft of color, such a startling contrast to my world—yet this was where he slept, where he dreamed; I breathed in the smell of him. I stepped towards his bed and bent down, lightly touching his blanket. An intense desire to belong here brought tears to my eyes; I stood quickly and sniffed them away. With a defiant huff, I shook off my doubts and changed into the awful clothes. They were clean enough, but the material itched, and there was a distinct odor of straw.
Moving back to the door I listened through the wood trying to locate Aydin. Silence met my ears. I glanced down and pulled a face, wishing I had a mirror so I could see just how bad I looked.
I threw my cloak over my shoulders and opene
d the door. Aydin leaped from his chair, his eyes in their usual downcast position. I wanted to ask him to look at me, to tell me what he saw, but fear took the words away.
‘We can leave now,’ I declared, trying to sound somewhat noble even if I didn’t feel it.
But Aydin wasn’t finished. ‘I am afraid there is one more thing.’
I flung my hands lamely at the dress. ‘What? This isn’t enough?’
‘I’m afraid my Majesty, you are too…clean.’
A flush of blood colored my cheeks. ‘Too what?’
Aydin’s hands clenched into fists by his side. ‘Anyone who sees you will know you don’t belong.’
I hadn’t thought of this, but he was right. People would look at me, everyone we met—the poor, the diseased and the starving. I grappled with what I was about to do. ‘And how can we fix this?’ I asked.
‘Your face would need…dirt on it.’
I could hear my heart pounding. Was this another ploy to stop me coming? I lifted my chin to hide my despair. I had come this far; nothing would stop me now. ‘Very well. What should we use?’ Without saying a word, he walked to the shelf and grabbed a bottle that I recognized from the night before. ‘Powdered charcoal. Mix it with honey for infections,’ I whispered, reciting his description.
He froze mid-movement. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he said softly.
He walked over and held it out; I looked at his trembling hand. ‘You want me to put this on my face?’
‘It would be best.’
I frowned, uncomfortable with this demeaning act. It was such a small thing, but I knew it would strip my last shred of dignity, and I couldn’t bring myself to take the bottle.
‘Could…could you help me?’ I asked. He didn’t move. ‘Please,’ I added nervously. He nodded and removed the stopper. Tipping some charcoal into his palm, the black powder shimmered as it settled. He placed the bottle down and held his palm towards me. I wrapped my arms around my waist. ‘Would you, do it?’
He cleared his throat. ‘If my Majesty wishes.’
‘I do.’
He dipped his fingers into the charcoal, and I closed my eyes barely able to breathe. The first hint of silky powder caressing my face, was like nothing I’d ever felt. I exhaled slowly as his fingertips ran from my temple to the edge of my mouth. My head hurt with the intensity of sensations, and my knees ached as they fought to stay straight. His hand fell away, but it returned a second later, this time to my other cheek. He traced my jaw before his fingers slipped to my neck. I became aware of just how vulnerable I was…and just how much I liked it. I leaned into his touch, part of me hoping his whole hand would encircle my throat.
‘That should be enough,’ he said huskily.
I opened my eyes. He had turned away as though nothing had happened. It shattered the rare moment of bliss, leaving me exposed and a little angry. A rush of humiliation cooled my core; once again his touch had made a fool of me. I clutched my hands together to prevent them from touching the still fresh tracks tingling my face.
‘Have you got everything?’ I asked loudly, trying to hide my turmoil.
He grabbed a pack from the table. ‘Yes my Majesty,’ he replied, moving to open the door.
I pulled my hood up and stormed outside. An already loaded cart stood waiting, full of jugs and boxes. Aydin placed his pack alongside the other supplies and strung the lead rope over his shoulder. The muscles in his legs bulged as he grunted and set the cart in motion. I followed cautiously, staying close, still worried by the crowd. As we neared the gates, I realized it would be the first time that I would go through them on foot. Could my existence be any more ridiculous?
We started our walk through the city—the living conditions in the outer streets were pleasant enough, and I started to wonder what Aydin was talking about. But as the roads narrowed, and the houses turned to little more than huts, my shock began to grow. Everywhere I looked poverty, illness and misery coated the crumbling walls. Gaunt faces stared from doorways, and dirty beggars sat on the ground barely able to hold up a hand. The smell was horrendous and more than once I covered my mouth to keep from throwing up. I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing, this was so different from the city I knew. Of course, I’d been through it before, but Samuel had always planned my route, filling the streets with flowers and smiling faces. How many beatings had my guards administered to cleanse the way for my procession? How much hate must have been behind those smiles as I glided past dripping with wealth and entitlement? Now I knew why the walls of my palace were so thick. The contrast between my life and this was inconceivable.
‘Are you all right, my Majesty?’
Aydin’s voice cut through my horror, he stopped moving. I was too ashamed to look at him and glad for the hood hiding my face.
‘I am just a little shocked…I will be fine,’ I replied knowing it was the biggest lie I’d ever told.
‘Are you able to keep going?’
‘Yes,’ I mumbled.
The cart jerked forward, and I grabbed the side for support. I walked beside it holding on as tight as I could, grateful for the harsh splinters digging into my hand.
Soon the roads became scarcely wide enough for us to pass. The people lining the edges were close enough to touch, and their proximity only intensified my guilt. I could see every dirty crease in their skin; smell the rot and death on their bodies. Mothers’ cradled skeletal children in their arms; hopelessness dulling their eyes. It was quiet, too quiet, and the despair stuck to my skin, seeping into every pore. I wasn’t sure how much longer my lie would hold up.
Aydin stopped to help a small boy that I’d barely noticed lying in the rubble. He was filthy, his arms so thin they looked ready to snap. Aydin squatted down. Lifting the child’s head, he took out his own water gourd to let the boy drink. I inched closer; he was examining the child’s scabby arms, lost in thought. The boy’s eyes rolled back into his head, something crusted the corners of his mouth, and I gagged with the smell.
‘I need to treat this rash. Could you bring the wooden box from the front of the cart?’ he asked.
The command surprised me, but I nodded and fetched the box. It seemed like a useless exercise, but he applied the ointments as though it was his own child. He talked slowly, reassuring him, even though he got no response.
When he’d done all he could, he called to an old woman watching from a nearby doorway. She came over, and he said a few words before handing her something. She nodded and then he picked up the child, carrying him inside her home.
He emerged a few minutes later and returned to the cart. ‘Would you like to go back?’ I did want to go back. I wanted to run away and never see any of this ever again, but I just shook my head. He grabbed the cart rope and set off again. ‘Very well, let me know if you change your mind.’
We continued our journey through the streets, Aydin randomly stopping to help the helpless. I learnt what to hand him without being asked, it wasn’t much, but at least I felt like I was doing something.
The minutes dragged into hours and every patient blurred into the next. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or mortified when Aydin said it was time to go back. I simply nodded and followed the cart.
As we made our way up one of the wider streets, a man edged through a doorway and watched our approach. His height emphasized his wasted body, and he had to lean on the wall to stay upright.
‘Please,’ he called to Aydin. ‘They say you help. My wife is sick, she won’t wake.’
Aydin acknowledged his plea with a nod. ‘Stay here,’ he whispered. ‘I need to make sure it’s safe.’
‘Wait… No.’
He strode away without looking back. Shifting uneasily, I glanced around. Several children were playing in the dirt nearby, their game temporarily halted as they stared at me. I smiled but their expressions didn’t change, and they returned to their game. Peering at the now empty doorway, I wondered how much longer Aydin would be. I didn’t like being alone.
Suddenly I felt a hand slide up my thigh. Spinning around, I found myself inches from the grubby face of a straggly haired man. Part of his cheek was missing, and pockmarks pinched the remaining skin. I did not understand where he’d come from.
He grinned intently, revealing a mouth full of rotten teeth. ‘Hello pretty one,’ he said roughly, his speech slightly distorted. I stepped back, but he grabbed my wrist. ‘What’s the matter, I ain’t going to hurt you.’ I looked at his hand in horror, no one had ever touched me like this. I wanted to scream, but I was too shocked. His lips twitched, and his eyes scanned my chest. ‘You don’t look like you belong here. How about I take you back to a nice part of town?’
‘I’m here with someone,’ I blurted out.
He looked around. ‘I don’t see no one.’
‘He’ll be back soon.’
His sharp eyes locked on mine. ‘I don’t think he will.’
Suddenly there was a flurry of motion, and the man fell away—Aydin had him. He pinned his face against a wall, twisting his arm behind his back. ‘How dare you touch her!’ Aydin yelled.
The man yelped, and his eyes darted about. I was worried Aydin would seriously injure him. I moved quickly, placing my hand on Aydin’s tense forearm. ‘He didn’t hurt me,’ I assured, but my words had no effect. ‘Please Aydin, let him go.’
I ran my fingers to his wrist and squeezed gently. Aydin looked at my hand, and the man whimpered pitifully. For a moment, I didn’t think he would let go, but then I felt him relax. He threw the man to the ground and stepped between us. ‘If I ever see you again,’ he snarled, as the man curled up. Aydin stood over him, his hands balled into fists. ‘Let’s go,’ he snapped, before storming back to the cart.
I hesitated, thrown by yet another order. ‘But what about the wife?’ I called after him.
‘It’s too late,’ he mumbled grabbing the cart and pushing it aggressively.
‘But…Aydin.’
Guardian Page 4
