by Rob Donovan
"It needed to be cut," she said.
The Prince looked at the hair on the tiles, "not that much. I took too much off. I don't know what I was thinking."
"I think you look very handsome."
Althalos caught her eye in the mirror and smiled. "I definitely should not have shaved the beard off."
"I like you without the beard."
"It makes me look too young. The beard made me look more mature."
"You are overthinking this."
"I don't think it's possible to not overthink things. I haven't seen her for so long. She won't remember me."
"That is the most stupid thing you've ever said."
"No, I didn't mean it like that. Of course, she'll remember me. But she will remember me as the child I was. She won't know who I am."
"Which is why you’ll get to know her. You are very lucky, you thought she was dead and now she's been returned to you."
"I have never been this nervous. What do I say? What do I do? I should have found her. She's been locked away for so long. She has been imprisoned for the majority of my life. How do I look her in the eye and say 'welcome home I missed you?' It's awful."
"You didn't even know she was alive!"
"That's not the point. I should have known."
"How could you possibly have known? You were told at a very young age that your mother had died whilst riding a horse. Everyone in the Kingdom thought she was dead. Who could have foreseen what Cordane was up to? Stop needlessly blaming yourself and concentrate on the here and now. Concentrate on reuniting with your mother."
Althalos nodded. "I shouldn't have cut my hair so short." Shana punched the Prince on the shoulder. “You should be there.”
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“You are a massive part of my life. My mother needs to know this.”
“And she will,” Shana said and reached up to lightly kiss his cheek. “Just not yet. Right now is the time for just the family.”
Althalos nodded. He knew she was right but that did not stop him wanting Shana to be there. Since he had returned to Lilyon the girl had been at his side. He had not known how much he loved her until he was around her again. The best thing was that she was so unassuming. Althalos would have had her by his side every second of the day if it were down to him. It was Shana who pointed out the folly in this and the importance of the Prince’s duty. She was also not prepared to give up her duties just because she had ‘seen the Prince naked,’ as she so delicately put it.
“Am I doing the right thing?”
“With your father?” Shana asked. He loved how she understood what he was thinking. He nodded. “I think so. Norva said the Queen blamed your father for not making sure she was dead. It is probably best that just the two of you meet to begin with. You can then gauge her mood and see if she wants to meet him.”
Althalos reached for the wine but Shana got there first and lightly put her hand over the top of it. The Prince was about to protest and then let his hand fall to his side.
“I should have at least told him.”
Shana did not say anything. The Prince knew Shana’s thoughts on the matter. They had discussed the subject long into the hours after Norva had left. The King had admitted to Althalos that he was in a fragile state of mind. Fyfe had also reported that the young girl Tatanya had alluded that the King had been hallucinating whilst he was travelling home. It appeared the King had pretended Jefferson/Cordane was still by his side.
This news had alarmed Althalos. He could not even begin to imagine why his father had done this. Was it a way to cope? A way to make difficult decisions to survive? He had tried not to judge his father without having experienced all he had experienced, but that did not make the scenario any less painful.
Fyfe had assured the Prince the King had banished whatever demon that plagued him by stabbing it. Tatanya had said as much when she had awoken to find the King standing over her, but this only made the situation worse. His father had only dealt with the situation by killing something that did not exist in the first place. Althalos had pictured his father alone in the woods fighting something that wasn’t even there, like a child fights a pretend foe with a stick. The notion appalled the Prince.
However, now the morning had come to meet his mother, he could not believe he had not told his father she was alive and about to walk back into their lives. So many people that surrounded the Prince had said that the King had changed the moment the Queen had died. Maybe having her in his life again would see a complete recovery of his father’s mind.
Shana had argued this but Althalos had thought his father was too unstable, despite the fact he appeared of sound mind and more self-aware of the illness that plagued him.
The Prince turned and faced Shana and hugged her. “She is going to love you,” he said into his lover’s hair. Shana looked up at him and planted a kiss on his lips.
“Of course, she will. Who doesn’t?” Shana said. Althalos laughed and then began to pull on his armour as Shana made to leave. She paused at the door. “You are going to be fine. Don’t forget this is a happy moment for you.”
Althalos tried to smile but he couldn’t quite manage it. “Can you do me a favour? Give it an hour and then send for my father. He should meet his wife.”
***
Althalos sat in the library and awaited his mother. He had initially thought of meeting her in the palace hall. It was the grandest room in the palace and the only one befitting the returning Queen. However, it was absurdly large for such an intimate meeting.
One of his earliest memories was of his mother sitting in the library and reciting poems. She used to sit by the window overlooking the White City with a smile plastered on her face as she enjoyed the flowing words and imagery of the past poets.
The Prince sat on a wooden chair opposite the space where that memory had taken place. He had positioned a chair where his mother had sat by the window. He curled his legs up underneath him and then straightened them again, trying to decide how his posture should be. Too formal and he would appear too cold and unwelcoming. Too casual and he would appear weak and desperate to see her. The armour did not help.
Another minute passed and he got up and shifted the chair back slightly. The sun shone through the window directly on the chair. It would not do to have the sun in his mother’s eyes. She might think it was a deliberate ploy to make her unsettled. Why would she think that? You are her son. She is not some ambassador from far away.
The Prince looked over at the door where a guard and a servant stood, one to protect, another to serve refreshments. He knew both well but both stared straight ahead. He wondered what they were thinking. Did they sympathize with him or did they think he was a dithering fool? The servant girl, a young woman called Lettee licked her lips and shifted her footing. He realised they were both probably as nervous as he was.
Althalos pushed the chair away from the shard of sunlight and sat back down drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. There was a flask of redcurrant wine on the table in front of him. He thought about pouring himself a cup and then recalled Shana’s hand stopping him earlier.
He settled for digging his fingernails into his palm. The door to the library opened and he jumped up. His mother stood on the threshold, with tears in her eyes. He was surprised she looked so much the same as he remembered despite the seventeen years incarcerated in the dark. She was thinner obviously and had a few more lines around her face but as soon as she smiled he saw the mother that he recalled as a child and from his dreams.
Her hair fell past her shoulders in waves and was woven with flowers. He did not know what kind they were other than they were blue to match her eyes. She wore a simple jade dress with a brown belt. She was never one for extravagant clothes.
They stood staring at each other for what seemed like ages. At some point the guard and maidservant had withdrawn deeper into the library to give them privacy.
“Mother,” he whispered and then chastised himself. Of a
ll the things he could have said, simply stating the obvious was not what he had rehearsed. However, it turned out to be the perfect thing to say.
The Queen ran towards him and engulfed him in the tightest of embraces. For a moment, he was too stunned to react and then he melted in her arms. “Mother,” he repeated and this time it was he who had tears in his eyes. “I am so sorry.”
She hushed him and kissed his cheeks. “I have dreamt of this day. It was all that kept me alive.”
For a while they just held each other. He had been nearly four when she had died and all the memories of those terrible nights when he cried himself to sleep and longed for her cuddles washed over him. It was as if this one hug made up for all those he had missed out on. He took back all the times he cursed the moon deities for stealing away his mother.
Eventually they let each other go and sat down. Lettee appeared and poured the wine, she also brought a plate of spiced bread and olive oil. Both the wine and food remained untouched as mother and son just stared at each other and smiled.
“You have grown so handsome. You were always a joy to look at but I never imagined you would look so…regal.”
“I don’t feel regal,” Althalos said with a laugh.
“From what I have heard, you certainly are. Your conduct so far has been astounding.”
Althalos waved away the compliment but inside he was ecstatic. To hear his mother praise him was all he ever wanted. He was not sure what he had been expecting but lately he had feared she would judge him.
They spent the next half an hour talking about all manner of things. His mother had a million questions and demanded to know everything of Althalos’ childhood. She beamed when he told her of things he had achieved and laughed at any anecdotes. Sometimes he forgot that she did not know some of the palace residents. Servants who Althalos had thought had been in the Kingdom’s employment for years, his mother simply did not recognise.
He wanted to enquire about her time in solitude but what was there to say really? It had been horrific, it did not take a wise scholar to work out that much. Once his mother had said she did not know why Cordane kept her alive, there did not seem much point in bringing the mood of the reunion down.
His heart swelled at how natural the conversation appeared. It was as if she had just visited him after being away for a few months, not over a dozen years. Lettee returned to bring more food and saw they had not touched the first lot. She smiled and left.
Althalos picked up a slice of bread and nibbled on it, suddenly realising how hungry he was.
“You look so much like your father,” his mother said. The smile fell from the Prince’s face for the first time in an hour. His cheek muscles ached. “One of us had to mention him.”
“I haven’t told him about you yet,” Althalos admitted.
“Why?”
“The Ghost Assassin told me you were angry with him.”
“Her name is Norva Steele, she deserves to be called that at least.”
Althalos apologised. He did not know why he had called Norva by her moniker. “Are you angry at him?”
His mother shrugged. “I was, I am still, a little at least. I have questions for him but I understand the situation a bit more than I did. Why didn’t you tell him?”
Althalos explained what had happened to his father since the Ritual of the Stones. He told her everything Tatanya said and his conversations since with the King. His mother wept as she spoke of how fragile her husband had become. Her reaction brought his own tears.
"Your father is stronger than you think Althalos. Despite how he might appear right now."
“Everyone says he fell apart when he discovered you had died. I was only young and shielded from most of it but even I remember how inconsolable he was.”
The Queen dabbed at tears with a handkerchief. To hear of her husband’s grief obviously distressed her. “He didn’t identify me. He didn’t make sure.”
Althalos went over to his mother and placed an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him and despite her tears the closeness felt good. “Everyone told him what had happened. They said it was not a sight he needed to see. I don’t think he would have been able to live with such an indelible image. I can see why he didn’t check mother and at the time he had no reason to doubt Jefferson. Will you see him?”
“Of course I will, I can hardly be kept a secret now that I am back anyway.”
“That is not what I meant. Do you want to see him?”
“Yes, despite my anger, I have thought about little else except for seeing him.”
“I will fetch him,” Althalos said and stood giving his mother a quick peck on the top of her head.
“No. Not yet. There is something I need to tell you first and someone you should meet.”
Althalos sank down in his chair a feeling of unease suddenly spreading through him. He did not like the way his mother bit her bottom lip and looked out the window. He thought of Vashna sitting in the war council waiting for Althalos to arrive. The Warlord had handed over his mother and true to his word had only brought his general and a handful of his captains. He had also told the Prince to take his time with his mother and offered to return to his camp during the visit.
“What is it?” the Prince asked. His stomach was tight and this time he did reach for the wine. It tasted sour after the bread and oil.
His mother looked over to the guard, “would you be so kind to fetch Stasiak’s please?”
The guard saluted and disappeared.
“Stasiak’s?” Althalos said.
His mother offered a tight smile and poured herself some wine. Her hand shook and she spilt some on the table. She cursed and went to mop it up with the handkerchief. Althalos stopped her.
The Queen took a deep breath. “When I was taken from you I was with child. No one knew of this, not even your father. I was planning to tell him the evening I was taken. Cordane knew, I am not sure how but he knew. As Jefferson it was his business to know most things but I did not expect him to know that. Maybe he realised I had not been visited by the red moon for a few months.
He looked after me until I gave birth. After the birth, the way I was treated declined considerably. The baby was snatched from me the moment it was born. I was only allowed to see him at certain intervals. I fed him when I was allowed but most of the time we were apart. Cordane permitted me to see him enough to know that I was his mother and he could grow up loving me. He somehow always loved me despite what Cordane did to him; despite what they turned him into.”
The Queen paused and it was probably just as well. Althalos’ mind whirled as he struggled to process the news. “I have a brother?” His mother nodded. “A brother called Stasiak’s?”
The Queen smiled but it was forced which confused the Prince. He beamed and then clapped his hands together. “I have always wanted a sibling,” he said and rose to hug her again. She held out a hand to block him and gestured him to sit.
“You don’t understand. You did not hear what I just said. Cordane trained him from an early age, he sent him away to Lakisdorea where they turned him into something he was never intended to be - a monster.”
Althalos shook his head. “Whatever has been done to him, whatever he needs, we will make sure he is looked after. We will heal him.”
“Just promise me you will remain seated when he arrives.”
“Wha-?”
The door opened and a young man stood there staring at the pair of them. His eyes were ablaze as he took in the scene, the Prince sitting so close to his mother. Althalos noted the straight nose, the same as their father. There was something else familiar about him that the Prince could not put his finger on.
The Queen placed a hand on his arm and he looked at it briefly before turning back to Stasiak’s. If possible, his brother’s face grew even more thunderous at the contact. Althalos could not work out why the man was so livid. Those eyes where have I seen those eyes? The realisation hit him like a slap in the face.
&nb
sp; “Stasiak!” Althalos shouted and jumped to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor behind him. The guard by the door drew his sword poised to strike. Stasiak’s heard it but did not look behind him. He stood rigid, arms straight and fists clenched.
“Seize him,” the guard was joined by another and he sheathed his sword as they grabbed the warrior’s arms roughly. Stasiak’s did not resist. His nostrils flared as he stared at his mother. It had taken the Prince a moment to recognise the man without his face paint but the hatred in his eyes was something he was not likely to forget. They had faced each other on the battlefield. The man had tried to kill him.
“Althalos please,” his mother said walking between the two sons. “Remember what I told you. He is not the same man you faced.”
“Not the same man?” Althalos shouted in disbelief. “It was only months ago he tried to kill me.”
“He had been trained to. He thought it was the right thing.”
Althalos shook his head. “He knew, if he knew you were his mother then he knew we were brothers yet he still tried to kill me.”
“I know but please, let’s just calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down! Are you mad? Have you any idea what this man has done? He is a barbarian. He is not of our blood no matter what you say.”
“Don’t…talk…to…her…like…that,” Stasiak’s spoke in a slow deliberate voice. It was not loud yet it silenced the room.
"You dare to tell me how I should talk in my own home?" Althalos said. Rage had blinded him. He saw the green and black face paint on Atikass's face even though he wore none. Nothing could erase the atrocities of what the man had done.
"Please Althalos, just give me a moment."
"No, I am amazed you are home, I will give thanks to the Tri-Gods every night that you have been returned to me, but that does not mean you can tell me to accept this creature."
Stasiak’s struggled against the guards but they held him firm. A low growl escaped him as he stared at the Prince. "You see what kind of thing he is? He is not even human, look at him."
