The King's Daughters

by Nathalie Mallet

  Raising myself on tiptoes to see above the crowd, I looked straight at the small dais at the front of the room where I thought Eva would be. The instant I set eyes on her I felt my stomach clenching. She was surrounded by four disciples of Samu. All smiles, the beautiful ladies conversed with my beloved in the friendliest of manners. But when they saw me, those warm friendly manners cooled down as shock invaded their eyes. Obviously, they didn't plan on my surviving their friends' ambush. Good, I thought, and looked for the countess. I found her a few steps to the left. She was hanging on to the king's arm with an air of ownership I didn't like.

  Lord, I hope I'm not too late, I thought as I marched across the crowded room.

  Gasps of shock and shouts of horror punctuated my advance.

  "He's all bloody!" exclaimed a nobleman.

  The courtesan beside him fainted.

  I stopped and looked down at myself. The front of my kaftan was covered in blood, the suicide disciple's blood but also Diego's. A searing rage burnt its way through me, like a lava flow after a volcano eruption. Glaring at the countess, I continued advancing. "Your Majesty," I shouted, drawing my rapier.

  At once, people began yelling in fear around me. "Aaaah! He's armed! He's armed!"

  Paying no mind to them, I soldiered on. "Your Majesty cannot marry this woman."

  A nobleman stepped in front of me, hindering my progress. Without any hesitation, I kicked him in the groin, and when he doubled over, I unceremoniously pushed him aside. Approaching the dais, I stared at the king. The look on his face held more confusion than anger. However, I saw that he had nonetheless pulled out his ceremonial sword.

  Pointing his weapon toward me, the king ordered, "Halt! Don't come any closer!"

  "Your Majesty, this woman has deceived you. She's fooled everyone here. You cannot marry her."

  "Amir, what are you doing?" lamented Eva. She tried to approach me, but the disciples of Samu held her back, saying that it was for her safety. Meanwhile a dozen guards had sneaked up behind me.

  My time was now numbered; I needed to hurry. I stared at the countess. Unintimidated, she stared right back at me. I noted a sly smile curling her lips. The insolent woman was mocking me; it made my blood boil. "She's guilty, Your Majesty," I said.

  "Guilty of what?" boomed the king.

  "Of everything that has befouled you since she arrived at the castle, beginning with the queen's illness. It worsened upon her arrival."

  "Nonsense! Guards arrest him!"

  As the guards moved on me, I shouted, "Majesty, she's a priestess of Samu!"

  Loud gasps rose from the assembly of nobles.

  Perplexed, the king raised a hand. The guards halted their advance.

  Pointing to the ladies encircling Eva, I continued, "These are her disciples. The men attacked Prince Diego and me a moment ago, and he's been mortally wounded. The countess also captured your daughters. The princesses are prisoners of her enchantments."

  The king turned to the countess.

  Ivana smiled humbly at him. "He's lying, Your Majesty. You know I cannot do any of this." Her voice sounded so innocent that I almost believed her myself. I cringed. I had better come up with some convincing argument soon, otherwise she would win.

  "Your Majesty, please listen to me," I pleaded. "This woman came to the castle with the goal of marrying you, so she could have the old faith reinstated. But when the queen convinced you to marry Isabo instead, Ivana made sure that it wouldn't happen. She made everybody believe Isabo was a witch. Ivana is the one who called attention to Isabo's actions. She rang the alarm the morning Isabo was arrested."

  "Why should this be of concern to me?" said the king. "The countess did well to denounce the foul woman."

  "No, Your Majesty. Isabo was only trying to help your daughters, to protect them. She is innocent."

  Taking a step forward, the king glared at me. "You've gone mad, young prince. Isabo was caught leading a beast out of the castle. She's a witch. To proclaim the countess guilty of these crimes is blasphemy. I will see you thrown in the dungeon for uttering such lies."

  "NO, FATHER!" shouted Eva. "Amir's right. Isabo is innocent. The beasts are my sisters."

  The king's head turned from Eva to me a few times. "Have you both taken leave of your senses?" he said. "The countess saved my life. Without her selfless dash across the cemetery the bear would have mauled me to death."

  "Your Majesty was never in any danger. It was the countess the bear was seeking out that day. Or any other day, for that matter; that's why most of the bear's killings in the castle happened in the area near her room." Suddenly another fact became clear to me. I looked at the countess. "The village's ruins—it's an old temple. And one of the gods it is dedicated to is Samu."

  I looked up at the king. "Your Majesty, your daughters often accompanied the countess to the village, for charitable purposes. They knew about her status as a priestess of Samu. They knew she celebrated ceremonies in the old ruin. That's why the bears kept going there. The countess used to hold office in that temple. The villagers said priests and priestesses still visited it."

  "This is madness," breathed the king, yet I could see that the seed of doubt had been planted in his mind. "Why should I believe such a tale? Why should I take the word of a stranger over those of the countess, whom I know and trust?"

  "Because it is the truth!" a gravelly voice declared from the back of the assembly.

  The crowd parted revealing the presence of a determined-looking Auguste Ramblais. As the old alchemist limped in my direction, I noted that he was hiding something behind his back. Auguste aligned himself beside me in front of the dais and pointed at the countess with his free hand. "Her men ambushed Prince Amir and Prince Diego at the foot of my tower. They killed Prince Diego. I've witnessed the entire wretched affair."

  Shock blew through the assembly like a strong winter wind. I could see stunned, horrified, or bemused expressions printed on almost everybody's face.

  Shadows of concern now clouded the countess's beautiful face. She gently touched the king's arm. "He, too, is a stranger in our land, Your Majesty. They both are intent on deceiving you. I fear they've murdered Prince Diego themselves and are trying to pin this devious crime on me."

  "Curb your vile tongue, witch," hissed Auguste. Then turning to the king, he added, "I had an inkling that this young prince would need help. So I broke into the countess's rooms and found this—"

  Auguste pulled out the hand he had kept hidden behind his back. A bronze statue of a sturgeon fish bearing a man's face was clutched in his fist.

  "SAMU! It's Samu," echoed from the crowd. "It's true, she's a priestess."

  "Alchemist," the king began, "a single statue hardly constitutes proof of misdeeds."

  "Search her room, Your Highness, and you'll find all the proof you need," said Auguste with a look of disgust toward the countess. "This woman has had a shrine to her god built in one of her rooms. It's far too elaborate to have been constructed in a day for the purpose of discrediting her. The giant statue of Samu in its center must have taken at least four men to move."

  "The missing statue!" I exclaimed, remembering the pile of drape on the chamber's floor." That's what your friends were carrying in that rug. They told me they were decorating. Well, they were indeed."

  The king glared at the countess. "Is this true?"

  She nodded her head, backing away.

  "WHY?" roared the king.

  The countess flinched, then raised her chin in a gesture of defiance. "How dare you ask me why! You never thought once about the fate of the priesthood when you banned our cults and destroyed our temples, leaving us destitute and without a roof over our heads. The things we were forced to do to survive are unmentionable. Some of us were reduced to begging for food, like dogs." As she spoke, the countess slowly walked to the edge of the dais, where two giant urns were placed.

  "What hardship are you talking about, you married a count," said the king.

  "Yes," sa
id the countess in a voice rendered deep with anger. "And marrying that disgusting bag of wine was my first step toward my goal. Many more followed."

  Suddenly the Baba's words made sense to me. "The queen's illness, the princesses' enchantments, Lars's condition. It was all meant to force the king into marrying you. Those were all . . . means to an end."

  The countess didn't reply. She only smiled. An odd detail struck me. For some reason, I thought her eyes seemed bluer than before. From where I stood they appeared as though they were two dark pools of stormy water. As I was pondering the meaning of such a change, she raised her arms in the air. What followed happened so fast that it took me completely by surprise. First, a rush of energy hit me. Then all the banquet hall's doors slammed shut and the giant urns, spread throughout the room, began overflowing, spilling out water all over the floor. Screams of panic sounded through the room as the crowd dashed to the doors.

  "They're locked," shouted a nobleman.

  "The water's rising fast," yelled a lady in panic.

  "All is lost! We're doomed!" cried another.

  My gaze turned to the countess. I gasped in shock. Her skin had acquired the silvery white color of a fish's belly. Scales ran along her neck, and her hair, which was now green, had broken loose from its ties and flew wildly about her head as if animated by a life of its own.

  I took a step ahead and was appalled to discover that the water was already touching my calves. "Someone stop her," I shouted.

  Brandishing his sword, the king advanced toward the countess. She aimed white scaly hands in his direction and mumbled inaudible words.

  The king flew backward as if he were pulled from behind.

  I didn't look to see if the king had survived his fight. I was too worried about Eva's safety to care about his. So I was relieved when, looking through the moving crowd, I saw that she had managed to slip out of the disciples' grip. I tried running to her aid but the water had reached my thighs, making it impossible.

  All of a sudden the atmosphere in the hall became stormy. The light dimmed; thunder rolled, wind blew, and the water, which now licked my waist, became a stirring mass of crashing waves.

  Grinding my teeth, I tucked my chin down and moved forward. I felt someone pulling me from behind. I turned, facing a distraught-looking Auguste.

  "LEAVE HER," he screamed above the thundering storm. "WE MUST STOP THE PRIESTESS BEFORE SHE DROWNS US ALL."

  "EVA NEEDS ME," I shouted back at Auguste before moving toward my beloved.

  "Amir, no," a firm voice ordered in my head. "Change your aim, brother. Change aim before it's too late." I froze. It was my brother Jafer's voice. Reluctantly, the focus of my attention switched to the countess. She looked more and more like Samu, the god she worshiped. He was taking domicile in her body. That was obvious. If I didn't stop her now, while the transformation was still incomplete, I would never be able to do it after. "Can't beat a god," Khuan had told me. So I had to dispatch her before she became one.

  "But how can I stop her?" I asked myself aloud. The urns. Break the urns.

  At first, it seemed simple enough, but I soon realized that it was impossible, because I was stuck in the center of a stormy sea and the urns were all out of reach.

  I wracked my mind for another plan of action and something came to me. Battling the waves, I approached the old alchemist. "The statue! Auguste, give me the statue."

  Fortunately, Auguste still had it. With the statue held firmly in my fist, I gestured for him to follow me. Together, we managed to swim to a tall, marble-top table set against the wall. Gripping the table's side for support, I struck the statue against the table's hard marble surface until its head broke off.

  Well, my plan didn't work. Nothing happened. Actually, that wasn't quite true. The storm, raging furiously in the room, worsened. Moreover, now it was raining. The water was now at my chest.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw that the royal guards had managed to climb atop the dais where the water was only waist high. Filled with hope, I watched them approach the countess.

  She emitted a throaty laugh, as if welcoming their approach. Then I saw the guard at the head of the group vanish underwater. Another guard followed, then another. One by one, all the guards were pulled under the waves as though by some invisible hands. Howls of terror rang throughout the banquet hall as more and more people were being dragged under the angry surf.

  In panic, I grabbed Auguste and lifted him onto the table. Then I climbed up beside him.

  "We must break those cursed urns," said Auguste.

  I nodded. "How?"

  Auguste pointed to the two storm lamps hooked to the wall above us. Protected from the rain and wind by glass casings, their flames were still burning. "Light the balls I gave you."

  I shook my head. "It's no use; the moment I lift the glass casing the rain will extinguish the flame. We have to look elsewhere for a solution." That's exactly what I did. I looked. From this high standpoint, I could see the entire room. The urns were now underwater. Perhaps I could swim to them. I began a search for the urn nearest to me. In this process, I discovered a small object set atop a tall bookshelf. A clay bowl decorated with a raindrop pattern. Not only was it out of place in this hall, but it was very familiar to me. I could swear I had seen a similar bowl in Isabo's cell. This had to mean something. It just had to.

  Removing my kaftan, I plunged into the stormy water and swam with all my might in the direction of the bookshelf. Finally, my efforts paid off, and my hands made contact with the bottom shelf. I grabbed the shelf above it and hauled myself up.

  I was halfway out of the water when I felt something grabbing my ankles. A violent tug downward followed. I held on to the bookshelf. Again something pulled me down. This time, however, one of my hands slipped and I felt myself being dragged underwater. In desperation, I tightened the one hand that was still gripping the bookshelf. Another brutal tug shook me and I went down, bookcase and all.

  The massive piece of furniture hit the water with a huge splash, nearly drowning me, and whatever was pulling on my ankles let go.

  Freed, I swam up, took a gulp of air, and plunged down again. Through the dark murky water, I spotted the bowl; it was resting on the floor right below me. As I reached out to grab it, my fingers got entangled in some green strings. Before I could pull my hand back, a green veil of those strings had snared my arms and engulfed my face. Soon they were circling my throat. I felt a cold body pressing itself against my back. Icy hands seized my waist. It was the countess, I realized. Damn, she had me. Those strings surrounding my neck, that was her hair, and it was now crushing my windpipe, choking me. In panic, I kicked and thrashed as hard I could . . . to no effect.

  Regaining control of myself, I slipped two fingers under the rope of hair. I tried tearing it off, and I would have succeeded if the countess hadn't twisted her snarling face around and bit my hand.

  I gasped; a mouthful of water entered my lungs. I coughed, and it made my situation worse. The edge of my vision darkened. I felt myself sinking to the bottom of this makeshift lake. My back hit the floor. The countess's face suddenly appeared above mine. I tried gouging her eyes out. She easily brushed my hand away; it struck the floor, and my fingers made contact with the rough surface off a rounded object. I turned my head and looked at it.

  Through an increasingly thickening haze, I saw bright blue raindrops. The bowl was right under my fingertips. With my last strength, I seized the bowl and smashed it on the countess's face.

  A bloodcurdling shriek pierced my eardrums and catapulted me out of the water and high up into the air. When I hit the water again the shock of my landing, which felt very much like a giant body slap, revived me.

  Gasping for air, I stared around in dismay. The rain had stopped, the storm had dissipated, and the water level was coming down. I could see the urns again. I could stand up. After an anxious survey of the room, I discovered Eva hanging from the dais's drapery. She had climbed up the velvet panel to escape bei
ng dragged underwater. I was so relieved I almost fell to my knees. "My clever princess," I whispered with pride.

  Then I spotted the countess. A shiver ran down my spine. Caught in mid-transformation, she was helplessly flapping around in the now knee-high water like, well, like a fish—except that she still had arms that ended in webbed hands. Surprisingly her face remained as beautiful as ever, even with her mouth twisted into a rictus of rage. Her expression then softened, and Ivana took on an air of intense concentration. Her lips began moving. Her voice rose. "Wak me akiros Samu ikiv mahoke." She repeated these words over and over.

  I recognized this language; it was an archaic form of Sorvinkian. As a wave of tingling ran up my spine, I knew without a shred of doubt that she was reciting an incantation. Sure enough, the urns began spouting water again.

  Oh no, I thought. Not again! Determined to wring the priestess's neck and get this over with once and for all, I ran toward her.

  "Skah," she hissed at me.

  An invisible fist struck me in the chest. I sailed to the other end of the hall and hit the wall with force. Dizzied, I staggered to my feet. "All right, that won't work."

  "THE BALLS," Auguste yelled from his spot on the tabletop. "LIGHT THE BALLS BEFORE IT STARTS RAINING AGAIN."

  I dashed to the nearest storm lamp, lifted the glass casing, and then pulled out the silver balls from my pocket.

  A small bit of wick was sticking out of their top-ends. But when I tried lighting one, all it made was a series of crackle and pop sounds—and some smoke. I cursed the futility of it all, yet I persevered, and after a nail-biting period of time, the flame of my lamp dried the wicks enough for them to light.

  My first impulse was to throw the balls at the urns, but at the last moment I hesitated. I wasn't sure if this was the best move anymore. I stared at the countess's hissing face. Perhaps she should be my target.

  "THROW! THROW!" shouted Auguste, while pulling at his hair. "THROW THE DAMN BALLS."