The Marus Manuscripts

by Paul McCusker

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then why is she marrying the king?”

  “Because he’s the king and he said she has to,” Sarah answered simply.

  “Oh.” Maddy suddenly felt sad that Annison was being forced to marry the king. That kind of story never had a happy ending in the fairy tales she’d read.

  Sarah seemed to sense that more needed to be said and explained, “You see, the king was looking for someone to be his wife, and he made a command that all the prettiest girls in Sarum had to come to a big party he had here at the palace. Annison came, and she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he asked her to marry him.”

  “Like Cinderella,” Maddy said.

  Sarah looked blankly at Maddy. “What?”

  “Cinderella.” Maddy was so relieved that she didn’t notice Sarah’s confused expression. “If this is like Cinderella, it might turn out all right.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Maddy was still lost in her thoughts about the fairy tale. She asked, “Is Annison the daughter of a man who marries a terrible woman and has wicked stepsisters who make her work hard but won’t let her come to the royal ball?”

  Sarah pondered the question for a moment, her mind trying to sort out what Maddy had just asked. “Nobody really knows anything about Annison,” she finally said, hoping it fit in somehow. “I heard she was an orphan who was raised in secret here in Sarum. My mother says she’s probably the descendant of one of our ancient kings and would have been queen anyway even if King Willem hadn’t conquered us. The king says she must be of royal lineage or she wouldn’t be so beautiful. My father says it’s just a move by the king to make the people of Marus like him better.”

  Maddy thought about it for a moment and concluded excitedly that maybe she was there to help Annison escape from the king, and then she could marry her true love, who was probably a handsome country lad who was really the son of a nobleman.

  A thin, storklike woman walked in. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her dress hung on her skeletal frame like tissues wrapped around a coatrack. She clapped her hands. “Attention, children, attention!” she called.

  All the children suddenly formed into two rows. Maddy tried to stay behind Sarah in the back.

  “Is everyone here?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, Mrs. Leichter,” the children said in unison.

  At the far end of the hall, a tall man entered. Maddy immediately remembered him from the parade. He was the one with a pockmarked complexion who looked bored and miserable. He made his way toward them. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he eyed them with the look of a vulture considering its next meal.

  “Quickly,” Mrs. Leichter said when she saw the man coming. “It’s the king’s personal assistant. Let’s impress him with our singing by doing ‘Fair Maiden.’”

  The children stood up straight and waited for their cue to begin. Mrs. Leichter raised her arms and brought them down quickly. The children began to sing a lively tune about a fair maiden who was lost and lonely but met a handsome prince on a deserted road and won him over with her purity. Maddy stayed in the back, pretending to mouth the words. The tune was so catchy, though, that by the fifth verse she knew the words of the chorus and found herself singing along:

  “Fair maiden, fair maiden,” the prince said so sure,

  “In all of my life there is no one so pure.

  I’ll take you as bride, I’ll make you my queen

  And rule o’er the land, and rule o’er the sea.”

  What Maddy didn’t realize was that after the fifth verse, only the first half of the chorus was sung, with the rest of it hummed in harmony. So when the other children began to hum, she continued to sing loudly.

  She realized her error right away but kept singing in hopes that it might not sound like a mistake. The other children began to giggle, however, and soon the song was completely undone.

  Mrs. Leichter turned to the pockmarked man. “I’m so sorry, Lord Hector,” she said in humiliation.

  Hector grunted. “I hope it’ll be improved before your performance tonight.” He sneered and strode away.

  Mrs. Leichter screwed up her eyes angrily and looked at Maddy. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my choir?” she demanded.

  “I’m Maddy.”

  “But you don’t belong in my choir.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Then I must ask you to step aside.”

  “But she can sing,” Sarah said in her defense.

  “I just heard her singing abilities,” Mrs. Leichter said. “And while her voice is lovely, she obviously doesn’t know the songs we’re going to sing for the king and our future queen.”

  Maddy looked away sheepishly.

  Mrs. Leichter flicked her hand at Maddy as if she were shooing a fly away. “Go on, my dear. If you wish to join our choir, have your parents come to the Academy and fill out the appropriate forms.”

  Maddy stepped away from the choir.

  “Good-bye,” Sarah said sadly.

  “Good-bye.” Maddy turned away, worried that Mrs. Leichter or one of the servants would now step forward and escort her from the palace. Any hope she had of meeting Annison seemed to vanish.

  Mrs. Leichter turned her attention back to her choir and called out, “Attention, children. We will sing ‘Fair Maiden’ again, but correctly this time.” She began to wave her hands, and the children started to sing as Maddy made her way across the Great Hall to the doors.

  As she entered the long hallway again, it occurred to her that she had no idea of where to go. Worse, she realized she was being reckless. Why was she so desperate to see Annison? Why did the desire burn in her heart as it did? She’d had a dream, that was all. She had no reason to be there, no sensible excuse for wanting to meet Annison. It was all nonsense, Dreamy Madina lost in a fairy tale once again. What if her parents were worried about her at that very moment? What if they had the neighbors looking for her? She should leave the palace right away and find her way back home.

  She intended to go. She really did. But at the very moment when she turned in the direction of the front doors, a man stepped into the hallway from a side room. He was short and had white hair, a full, friendly mouth, and deep laugh lines around his eyes. He wore a dark blue coat with gold buttons and epaulets on his shoulders. Maddy thought he looked like a merry policeman.

  “Hello, young lady,” he greeted Maddy pleasantly. “Are you lost?”

  “No, sir,” Maddy replied.

  He came closer. “Where are you going?”

  “I wanted to go to Annison’s chambers,” she said honestly, but before she could finish her statement, the man interrupted her.

  “Our future queen’s chambers? You have business there?”

  “I wanted to meet her,” Maddy said.

  The man seemed distracted, as if he hadn’t heard her properly. After a moment he suggested, “If you’re going to her chambers, you might be of service to me.”

  “Me?” she asked.

  He scrutinized her briefly. “Only if I can trust you. Can I trust you?”

  Maddy nodded vigorously.

  He wiggled a finger at her. “Come with me,” he instructed.

  Maddy followed the man down the main hallway, down a smaller hallway to a quick left turn, and then down one more hallway to a door. It led into a small room with a writing desk and long shelves with papers piled up from end to end. The man bent down behind the desk and arose with a large vase of flowers. Red and pink carnations, Maddy thought, and yet they were somehow different from carnations she’d seen at home. Again, the colors seemed brighter, more intense.

  “I would be grateful if you’d take these to her chambers,” the man said with a gentle smile. “Deliver them to Annison personally. There’s a card for her inside. But when you give them to her whisper—and I mean whisper—that these are from Simet. Do you understand?”

  “I’ll give these flowers to
her personally and then whisper that they’re from Simet,” Maddy repeated.

  “Good girl,” the man said.

  “Are you Simet?” Maddy asked.

  The man nodded solemnly. “Yes, I am.”

  “Then why don’t you give them to her yourself?”

  “For one thing, men are not allowed in those chambers. For another thing, I don’t want anyone else to know these flowers are from me. It’s a great secret that I trust you to keep. Do you know how to get to Annison’s chambers?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Simet chuckled. “I’ve been working in this palace my entire life, and I still get lost. Let me show you.” Dabbing a quill pen into a pot of ink, he drew directions from his office to Annison’s chambers. Maddy was glad. She never would have found them otherwise. “If anyone stops you,” Simet added as he tucked a slip of paper into the pocket on her dress, “just present this slip of paper and say you have been approved by a lieutenant in the palace guards. That’s me.”

  Maddy took the flowers—they were heavier than she expected—and began her trek through the corridors to Annison’s chambers.

  By the time Maddy reached Annison’s rooms, her arms hurt from carrying the vase of flowers. In spite of Simet’s map, she still got lost once or twice—going down a hall that reached a dead end, walking into rooms filled with people preparing for the evening banquet, and even wandering into the main kitchen. No one seemed to notice her at all, and only one man in a uniform asked to see the slip of paper Simet had given her.

  A large, muscular, bald-headed man stood guard at Annison’s door. He eyed Maddy with a cool indifference, looked at the slip of paper, then opened the door for her to go in. Maddy’s heart quickened a little at the thought of finally seeing Annison, though a part of her still felt like a silly little girl for wanting something so much when there was no apparent reason for wanting it. It was only a dream, she thought. Maybe this is nothing but a dream, too.

  Maddy stood alone in a large room with marble pillars reaching from the floor to a high ceiling. It was simply furnished with a few couches and chairs with large cushions, one or two tables, and velvet curtains that hung around huge glass doors. The doors led to a balcony that overlooked a mazelike garden. From where Maddy stood in the middle of the room, she could see that the garden was an explosion of greens, reds, yellows, and purples.

  Off this main room were several closed doors. Maddy wasn’t sure what to do or where to go with the flowers, so she waited a moment, hoping someone would come.

  “Well?” a woman’s low voice asked.

  Maddy was startled. The woman was sitting on one of the couches but was so big and lumpy that Maddy had thought she was a collection of cushions.

  “I assume the flowers are not for me,” the woman said with a chuckle as she shifted her position and rose from the couch. She had dark hair, which she tucked under a weblike hat, and a full, round face. Her eyes were friendly in spite of the sagging bags under them. She had a pug nose and thick lips that made her jowls shake as she spoke. “For Tabby?”

  Maddy was so surprised by the appearance of this woman that she didn’t know what to say.

  “Not for Tabby?” the woman asked, feigning disappointment. “Then I suppose they’re for Annison. Give them to me.” The woman reached for the vase.

  Maddy pulled it away from her. “I was told to give these to Annison personally,” she insisted.

  “Don’t be silly,” the woman argued. “I am Tabitha, Annison’s nurse. I will see that she gets them.”

  Maddy refused to hand the flowers over. “I have to give them to Annison myself.” Clutching the flowers awkwardly, Maddy pulled Simet’s note from her pocket and gave it to Tabby.

  Tabby read the note and grunted. “This doesn’t mean a thing. This only gives you permission to be here, not to tell me who may receive the flowers.” She reached for the flowers again.

  Maddy stepped back defiantly.

  Tabby growled, “Oh, you wicked child!”

  “A wicked child?” asked a gentle voice from one of the doorways. “Surely not.” To Maddy’s delight, it was Annison.

  “I say she is,” Tabby complained. “She will not give me these flowers for you.”

  “I was told to give them to you personally,” Maddy explained.

  “Then you are right not to give them to anyone but me,” Annison said with a smile. Again, she looked radiant.

  Tabby harrumphed.

  “But you, my dear nurse, are right to be on guard for me,” Annison added. “You would have been negligent to allow a strange girl to wander our chambers.”

  Tabby looked slightly appeased, gave Maddy a final disapproving look, then turned on her heel and left the room.

  Annison held out her arms. “Now you may deliver the flowers personally.”

  Maddy gave her the vase and then, just as Annison was closest to Maddy’s face, whispered, “They’re from Simet.”

  Annison’s smile widened, but tears filled her eyes. “Oh, I should have known.” She placed the flowers on a small pedestal near the glass doors and lingered there, her back to Maddy. The shaking of her shoulders made Maddy realize she was crying.

  Maddy went to her and implored, “Please don’t cry.”

  Annison straightened up to compose herself. “I’m not sad,” she explained as she wiped her nose with a handkerchief. “I’m happy.”

  “You don’t look very happy.”

  Annison looked at Maddy and began to cry again. She sat down on one of the couches, burying her face in her handkerchief.

  “Oh, dear,” Maddy whispered, her heart aching as if the tears were her own. She sat down next to Annison. “I’m here to help you.”

  Annison looked up at Maddy. “Help me?”

  “I had a dream about you, and you asked me to help you, and I promised I would,” Maddy explained.

  “You dreamt about me?”

  Maddy nodded.

  Annison looked quickly around to make sure no one was near or listening. She leaned close to Maddy and said softly, “Tell me about your dream.”

  Maddy told her everything: about living in America, about the dream, about hiding under the porch, and about arriving in time for the king’s parade.

  As Maddy spoke, Annison’s eyes grew wide, and her red lips parted in an expression of awe. “This is wondrous,” she concluded.

  “I think so, too,” Maddy said with a smile. “I’m like Alice in the looking glass. It’s magic.”

  Annison frowned. “I don’t know your friend Alice, but no, this isn’t magic. At least, not the magic of stories or pagans. This is something more.”

  Maddy confessed that she didn’t understand.

  Annison now spoke in a whisper: “It is the Unseen One.”

  “The what?”

  “The Unseen One.” Annison suddenly stood up and paced the floor, wringing her hands as she did. “But what does it mean? Why were you sent to me?”

  “I came to help you,” Maddy reaffirmed.

  Annison wasn’t listening. She paced and spoke softly, mostly to herself. “I know the stories of old, the writings in the ancient manuscripts that tell of voices, protectors, and messengers who came from other places—strange places—to help us.” She suddenly sat next to Maddy again and gazed steadily into her eyes. “But your eyes—they aren’t different colors.”

  Maddy blinked. “Different colors?”

  “Oftentimes the ones who came had eyes of two different colors. But yours are both green. What am I to make of it?”

  Maddy felt again as she had when she stood in the crowd: confused and unsure. “I think,” she suddenly announced, “that I’m here to help you find your true love.”

  Annison looked at her, surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “Your true love,” Maddy replied. “Just like in the stories. You don’t love the king, so I’m going to help get you back to your true love.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” Annison said sh
arply. “I have no true love.”

  Maddy was hurt by Annison’s tone. “You don’t?”

  “Has the Unseen One sent you to test me? Or is this a message I must heed?” She paced again. “Is it something cryptic, like a riddle? What do you mean by ‘true love’?”

  “I mean someone that you really love.”

  “I love no one the way you mean,” Annison said simply. “I’m marrying the king.”

  “But you don’t love him,” Maddy insisted, though she now doubted herself. “Do you?”

  “Love has nothing to do with it,” she stated. “I’m doing my duty, for my country.” She wrung her hands again. “Oh, I wish I could speak with Simet. He’d know.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “I’m not allowed to see or speak with any men without the king’s permission until after the wedding. And to ask to speak with Simet would raise many difficult questions.” Annison’s face suddenly lit up with an idea. “But you can talk to Simet. You can go back to him and tell him what you’ve told me. Will you do that?”

  Maddy shrugged. “If you want me to.”

  “Then take this.” Annison took a ring off her finger. “It’s my own. If anyone stops you, show this ring. I am the king’s betrothed. No one will harm you as long as you have this ring. It proves that you serve me.”

  The ring fit on Maddy’s thumb. She held it up proudly.

  “Beware of one man in particular,” Annison then warned. “Lord Hector.”

  “I’ve seen him. He doesn’t look like a very happy man.”

  “He isn’t. He hates Marus and wants everyone in it to be as miserable as he is.” Annison guided Maddy to the door. “Pay close attention to whatever Simet tells you.”

  “I will.” Then Maddy smiled. “You see? I’m going to help you already.”

  Annison smiled and patted her on the head. “So you are. And I have no doubt that you will help me more than you know. Now go.”

  Maddy left through the door she’d come in, past the large bald man, and walked confidently down the hall. Then down another. Then around another. Finally she realized she had wandered into sections of the palace not found on Simet’s map. She had no idea where she was going. She stopped a young housemaid and asked for directions. The housemaid rattled out a stream of confusing instructions. Maddy pretended she understood and wandered off again.