The Rose Chateau

by Rebecca Monaco

  “In other words, you’re not the son of a duke. You actually are poor right now. In that case, you really should get to work. I won’t be able to help you out if you lose everything. We honestly wouldn’t be able to support you. Besides, Mum already thinks you’re a huge distraction for me when it comes to my own work.” Corinna took one of her gloves off then and lightly smacked Alastar in the face with it, a dirt smudge streaking the other’s cheek and nose. “So go on, you. Leave me to my work.”

  “Oh alright. I’ll see ya tonight then. Tell yer mother an’ uncle I said hello,” he said, dropping off the gate and rubbing his cheek free of soil. “An’ stop cutting yer hair. You’d look almost pretty with girl hair.” He waved his goodbye over his back, not even casting a glance over his shoulder. Corinna watched him walk across the adjacent field until yew trees blocked him from sight.

  The sight of it made her smiled lightly. The yew trees were just beginning to show signs of flowers. Soon that whole field would be covered in buds, and in a few months it would become a carpet of red berries. It was a sight… and it seemed ironic that Alastar disappeared into the newly budding trees. Corinna’s mother was always saying Alastar was simply waiting for the right time to blossom into the noble man he would be. If only she knew how right she was.

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  Corinna kicked off the earth from her boots outside the door and dropped them just inside. There they would sit until her work in the field tomorrow. In the meantime, she slipped on a pair of home boots – less durable and smaller than her work boots. She would wear these into town tomorrow to do some shopping. The house was about to be sadly vacant of some foods they needed what with her mother cooking a beautiful smelling dinner and Alastar coming over.

  “Oh, Mum,” Corinna called, stepping into the kitchen. “Alastar’s coming over for dinner.”

  “Okay. I’ll add a bit more to the stew then,” she said. Some would think she should get mad at Corinna. After all, she’d obviously been talking to Alastar during work which she’d been specifically told not to do; but Helen was a funny woman and the best mom Corinna could have wished for. She knew her daughter better than anyone, knew that she would get her work done whether Alastar took up an hour of her time or half of her day. Helen also knew Alastar, the spry, drunken yeast roller who would rather spend the day watching her daughter work than doing his own. She liked Alastar as a person, so Corinna knew she’d never get angry with him. It was just the kind of person her mother was.

  “He says he’ll bring some bread by with him,” the young woman added, dusting any dirt from her short locks. Walking quietly after years of practice for not disturbing her mother’s sleep while she cleaned house or went to work in the fields, Corinna moved to sit in the den. It was the most spacious room in the house and often doubled as their dining room.

  “Wonderful! I’ll put on my special tea then!” Helen cheered, and Corinna could hear her jumping around the kitchen to get the kettle. She smiled and stood from her seat. So much for relaxing.

  Corinna entered the kitchen, grabbed the tea bags her mother made herself from the top shelf, and carried them over to her by the stove. Helen smiled and grabbed her face when she was close enough, looking up into her growing daughter’s eyes. Corinna was almost a foot taller than her mother, proof that she received the majority of her appearance from her father.

  “Oh, what would I do without you, Corinna? You’re so good to me,” she said, smiling until her dimples threatened to break her face and the happy wrinkles around her eyes may as well have swallowed her up. Her dark brown curls were threatening to break from her tight bun, stained by all of her excitement.

  “Alvar would take care of you,” Corinna assured. “And so would Giulia from town.”

  “Oh.” Helen clicked her tongue and pushed Corinna away slightly. “Hush now. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. You’ll be staying right here with me till you find yourself someone to settle with… so long as it’s not Alastar. He can hardly keep a roof over his own head.”

  “Ah, Mum. You know you’re the only one for me,” Corinna said, wrapping her arms around her mother. “You’re the only one I love enough to live with.”

  The shrill of a falcon cut through the air, followed by the sweet cawing of several startled birds. Corinna smiled and pulled her mother into a lazy dance position. Helen laughed as she was spun quickly, to the tune of birds and clumsy footwork. Corinna dipped her mother back until the older woman couldn’t get herself back up straight on her own even if she’d wanted to. There was a pop as the kettle fell off the counter and then clattered to the floor. Helen laughed again and pat Corinna on the shoulder as she stood them back up.

  “Oh, Dear, you’re so silly sometimes. But I have to finish cooking. It’s almost finished. Can you go fetch the water for the tea?” she asked, motioning to the fallen pot.

  “Sure thing, Mum,” Corinna agreed. She kissed her on the cheek and then dipped down to snatch the kettle from the ground.

  It was an easy trip out the door and to the water spigot to draw water from the well, but Corinna made it more interesting by trying not to step on the dirt. Finding stepping stones and rocks to leap from, she made her way to the water. She’d have to just walk back so as not to spill the water, but for now she could play a bit.

  While there was a lull in the sound of rushing water falling into the kettle, Corinna caught another sound. It was the distinct and distant scrape of heavy hooves against packed dirt. It was familiar, but different. It was quick, like the rapid flutter of a heart coming down from an exercise high or a sudden scare. Corinna finished filling the kettle and stood facing the road into town. The horse that rounded the corner was trotting clumsily, as though trying and failing at pretending it hadn’t been running wildly a moment beforehand. It was a stocky stead whose parents had been a Pinzgauer mare and a Clydesdale stallion. It had dark blemishes of mud on its otherwise light russet coat. Mud caked its way halfway up its legs.

  The man in the saddle was no better, with twigs and debris caught in his silvery mane. His deep blue tunic was rumpled and his matching pants ended in streaks of mud, as though he’d crawled his way through a marsh that didn’t exist anywhere near Lagra. When the stead stumbled into the yard, Corinna set her tea pot down and went to help the man off of it.

  “Uncle Alvar,” she greeted with a smile. The horse pawed the ground uneasily, head swiveling back and forth as though it had spotted a sly snake and wanted to run away. “You look terrible. Where have you been?”

  “To hell and back, my darling,” the old man replied, slipping off the horse. He seemed weary, anxious, and terribly pale. As soon as he was off, the horse trotted away to the stable to hide, burying its head as far into its stall as possible. Corinna barely had time to snag her uncle’s bag off the saddle horn.

  “Valiant looks chilly. Mum’s finishing dinner. Can you take the kettle into her while I wash him off?” Corinna asked, holding out the old man’s bag.

  Alvar nodded, weakly lifting his satchel into his own arms. He bent and grabbed the tea pot while Corinna hurried for another bucket to fill with water. If they left the horse covered in mud like that, it would catch a cold or get bitten by some kind of bug in the dirt. They couldn’t afford to lose a horse to sickness or infection. She filled the bucket with cool water and hurried over to the stables. First she took the reins, saddle, and blanket off. They were dirty too, but they could wait to be cleaned. If nothing else, Alvar could simply ride bareback for a few days. With her hand, Corinna knocked off the larger clumps of dirt and the parts that weren’t caked on. She ran her hands through the horse’s hair, which seemed to calm it immensely, and pat the side of its great neck. Using a large brush, she washed the dirt off with her water bucket and cleaned the underside of the hooves to remove any hidden lumps that could injure it.

  “I don’t know what happened to you, Valiant,” Corinna was saying, “but I don’t want you going there again. Was the
re even a road where you were walking?”

  The horse nickered and whinnied. Corinna shrugged and slowly poured the water out over the horse’s legs to get any remaining dirt off. Using a second brush, she combed through the horse’s coat, flicking off excess water and any stubborn dirt stuck on its back. When she was satisfied with her work, she stood and put away her utensils. Then she pat Valiant’s back and rubbed him.

  “There. All better,” she said.

  Before she left, she gave the horse some fresh hay and then wandered her way back toward the house. Just outside the door, as she was knocking the dirt off her shoes, arms wrapped around her and hugged her in a tight and friendly manner. There was a grunt of exertion and then Corinna was set back down.

  “Have I missed the festivities?” Alastar asked merrily. Corinna laughed and shook her head as she opened the door.

  “Not at all. Right on time. Alvar just got home,” she said. They knocked the dirt off their shoes together, and Alastar hummed.

  “Just? Where’s the old man been all day?” he asked. “Surely wa’nt in town. I’d have seen him.”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” Corinna said. She pulled off her shoes, content to meander the house barefoot. Alastar rolled his shoulders and stripped his shoes as well.

  “Well let’s ask him. After dinner though. Don’ want to ruin a good meal with too much drama,” he said matter-of-factly. He smiled brightly and stepped around the entryway corner to present his fresh bread to Helen. Corinna could hear her exclamation of joy and smiled, but she could see her uncle in the den too. The man looked guilt-ridden and lost. He looked small in the candlelight, and older than ever Corinna had seen him before, a shivering old man where once Corinna’s uncle had been.

  Chapter 2 – The Deal

  Alastar was able to hold his alcohol better than the biggest man in all of England, but his stomach for normal food was a tad bit smaller than normal. He ate like a horse, with speed and greed, but he couldn’t eat as much as Corinna. The lissome farm girl was on her fourth bowl of rabbit stew while Alastar was barely able to touch his third. He tried to keep up with Corinna, to best her in appetite, but he always fell short… unless it had a lot of onions. Corinna wasn’t a fan of onions. Together, though, they finished off more than half of Helen’s stew and drank her tea like a natural remedy to cure all ills. Alvar ate and spoke merrily, but there was a sadness to his eyes that Corinna wished she knew the cause of.

  Alastar helped Helen with the dishes afterward, telling Corinna to relax because she’d actually done work that day whereas Alastar had mostly let Will do the real work and just handled the customers. Everyone who came to the store liked to talk to Alastar. His charisma in the workplace was infectious. However, this was not the workplace, and Corinna doubted even Alastar’s normal charms would break through Alvar’ solemn state.

  “Uncle Alvar,” Corinna began, sitting beside her uncle on their couch. The elderly man looked up at her and, if it were possible, seemed to grow even more guilty.

  “Corinna, you must forgive an old man of his idiocy,” he said. “I’ve done something foolish these last two days.”

  “Oh? And what might that be?” Alastar asked, sauntering in like some half cocky sheriff of the house. He slipped down beside Corinna, taking the last spot on the couch. Helen held her skirt and sat in a rocking chair across the way. Alvar looked between them all, age etching itself on his face.

  “I went to Paesaggia yesterday,” he said. “The king has been looking for a physician lately; someone to cure a continuing ache in his shoulder from an old battle wound. Apparently, none of the other physicians were as good as I am because he seemed generally shocked that my draft caused him such relief.”

  “Well that doesn’t sound too foolish of you,” Corinna mused. “Did he offer you to be his official physician or something?”

  “No. His court physician is Michael. He’s extremely talented… which is why I couldn’t understand why the king was requesting other physicians. Michael took me aside after I helped cure the king of his pain and told me the true purpose of the meetings. Apparently the king’s son is suffering from a horrible curse of an ailment,” Alvar said.

  “But I thought the prince died seven years ago… when that page came screaming from the forest,” Corinna said. Alastar raised an eyebrow.

  “Ya mean to tell me that actually happened? I thought it was just one of yer peoples many little legends about the big, scary forest,” he said.

  “Oh no,” Alvar began, shaking his head. “It really happened, which is what I reminded Michael of. But apparently it was all an elaborate act. Several years ago, about the time you were nine, Corinna, the king had a court sorcerer as well as a physician. They worked together to cure people, but the sorcerer was far more powerful and effective. Then one day… they vanished without a trace. A plague hit the kingdom within a week and the king was convinced it was due to the sorcerer – getting revenge for something the king had said or done. The plague took the king’s brother and niece. Once the plague was cured, the king went on a two year anti-magic tirade, killing anyone with magic that so much as looked at him impolitely.”

  “Right. Everyone knows that. Nine years ago. It was the momentary decline of Paesaggia,” Corinna said. “It ended with the death of the prince, although the king did outlaw magic.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Alvar whisper-snapped. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands down his tunic. “About seven years ago, just before the end of the tirade, a witch showed up in the castle. Her name was Morgause. She was disguised as a hobbling old woman, so no one knew what she was until she was already inside. Until yesterday, I had never heard of her. She entered the throne room and revealed herself. Well, obviously the king threw a fit at being deceived by a sorcerer. He attacked her with guards, but she defeated them all effortlessly. According to Michael, this was when she turned on the king. She swore a curse on him for his injustice and his hatred. However, to hurt him physically was too easy for her. She turned on the prince and cast a spell on him. Then she vanished and hasn’t been heard from since, though the king has searched high and low for her.”

  “I think I’m seeing where this is going,” Helen murmured, rocking slowly back and forth, a muffled squeak letting rip with every forward movement.

  “The prince became a disease of a man, ugly and displeasing to the king’s eyes. He sent him away to live in one of their extra homes, the manor in the middle of our neighboring forest. It was recently vacant, you see. That was why the forest had been maneuverable for a few years. But then the king moved the prince in and started the rumor of his death. Ever since that day, the king has been quietly seeking help from every physician he can find in hopes of discovering a scientific remedy for the prince’s curse. Silly old me, I thought I might actually be able to help,” Alvar said and stopped. He shook out his hands and stood from the couch, antsy and nervous. He paced to the hall and then back. For a moment, they all thought he was going to leave it at that.

  “Wait,” Corinna murmured, realization dawning in her as she calculated time and facts. “That means you would have had to actually travel through the forest.”

  “Yes it did,” Alvar agreed, nodding. He replanted himself on the couch. “And it is as bad as they say it is. The sun is blocked out for miles, and the trees are so close together that the path, however overgrown, stands out like a strawberry in a line-up of grapes. There’s mud everywhere, too. It seems the ground never really gets the chance to dry after a good rain, so everything is mud.”

  Again, they lapsed into silence, waiting for Alvar to speak about his time in the forest of children’s nightmares. Alvar dragged a finger slowly down the strap of his satchel, which sat beside the couch on his end.

  “Well,” Alastar spoke up. “So what happened with that prince? Did you find ‘im?”

  “Oh I found him alright. Valiant would barely walk through the forest, much less run, so it took us awhile, but we finally
found a spot where the path split in two directions. Valiant wanted to go right, but there was this… this odd breeze coming from the left. Odd, I thought, considering the density of the trees and the idea that we must be somewhere in the center of the forest with plenty of trees to pass before you found open air. So I went left. I should have listened to the daft horse. At the time though, the prospect of meeting the legendary shadow of our woods was too much. After a short while, I noticed the trees were moving away. There’s a great hole in the center of the forest, an expansive clearing of trees. In the center of it is a manor that would make Ms. Dempsie swallow her own scowl. I swear by the gods, it is large enough to be a small castle,” Alvar said. He used both his hands to push his stringy, graying hair away from his face on both sides. He was shivering gently.

  “Did ya not go inside?” Alastar asked, leaning forward so he could see Alvar better.

  “Heavens, no! The front gate opened easily enough, but the front door was more stubborn than a mule on bath day. It wouldn’t budge! I thought it surely hadn’t been used in years; Michael must have gotten the tale wrong. I almost left – I should have left, but there was suddenly the brilliant aroma of roses in full bloom coming from the side yard. Who, I wondered, could have a rose in bloom quicker in the season than Corinna?”