Deck of Cards

by Johnson, ID

  Last night, however, the ending was different. As Matthew sobbed, his head buried in Maggie’s still chest, there was a gasp. He looked up, and her green eyes violently flew open. Unfortunately, that is where it had ended. With the sudden shudder of those emerald eyes, he had jarred himself awake. At first, he had been confused of his whereabouts. He looked around, hoping to find Maggie somewhere in the small confines of his room. Of course, she was not there. He rubbed his swollen face, the pain from the gash in his head reminding him not only where he was but of yesterday’s events. He tenderly felt the wound, still wrapped in one of the cloths his angelic visitor had brought. It was still extremely painful but it was no longer bleeding. He decided to replace the cloth and dug one out of the mattress, shaking it off, hoping to remove as much debris as possible. He carefully removed the old bandage, causing a bit of fresh bleeding from where the scab had connected to the cloth. He then replaced it with the fresh wrap and sat very still for a moment, trying to prevent a dizzy-spell.

  He noticed that the little book of poetry was on the floor. He found that odd since he had placed it on the giant bookshelf the night before. He carefully stepped across the room, slowly bending down to pick it up. As he brought it back to rest on the shelf again, he noticed that the shelves were extremely shallow. This was strange for such a large piece of furniture. Though he had been in this room for six months, he had never really paid attention to the structure of the colossal piece. He began to wiggle it a bit. It was certainly heavy but it was not attached to the wall at all. There was not much room in his quarters to scoot it around but he was able to pry it forward a bit. He noticed that the side was about a foot deeper than the width of the shelf. The piece was heavy but not as heavy as he expected. As he studied the unit, an idea popped into his head. He began to pray—something he had not bothered to do for a long time—that his angel would return and that this time he would be able to request an item.

  And, as long as he was praying, he also began to pray for the soul of his sweet Maggie, that she was safe in the arms of the Lord she had loved so much.

  ***

  Across the swampy Lowetian Forest, past the rolling hills of the area known as Glendor, on the other side of the Arterian Lake, also known as Lake Lucie, inside the impenetrable walls of Castle Caine, there was a rap on Caleb’s door. He had finally dozed off just a few hours before but the noise brought him fully to his senses immediately. He cracked the door to find his beloved caretaker, Cook, standing there, her pasty face smiling, “It’s happened!” she whispered. He nodded, grabbed his robe and followed her up the stairs, pulling it on as he went.

  They ascended a narrow, winding staircase, to a small room at the top of a tower in the back of the castle. This room had been chosen for its privacy, not because its occupant was not welcome. Cook pushed open the door and they both quietly stepped in. The physician, Russel was standing on one side of the bed, a servant girl, on the other. A breeze stirred the white canopy atop the bed and the snowy fabric bellowed, as if announcing life had returned to the room.

  Caleb slowly walked forward, stopping at the foot of the bed. He felt Cook’s hand resting assuredly on his arm. She was right, it had happened. A wave of relief washed over him and he began to smile for the first time in as long as he could remember. He had waited so long for this moment and it was finally here. He could hardly believe he was finally looking into those blinking emerald green eyes.

  ***

  That morning, Katey was up before the sun. She had tried to sleep but it had failed her. She knew there were better ways to use her time than lying in bed, tossing and turning, dozing off, and being jarred violently awake by dreams of nasty remembrances. She tried to do a little reading in her room by candlelight but her mind kept drifting off. The interaction with Philip the night before had left her shaken so she tried not to think of him at all. Instead, she concentrated on thoughts of King Matthew. She knew she would pay him another visit just as soon as she felt the coast was clear. She had heard Philip say something about riding out to inspect the lines today and she was hopeful that he would take both Edward and Cuthburt with him. She also contemplated sneaking into the rooms of those two nasty scoundrels and meting out some punishment of her own but she knew she would not be capable of causing the type of injuries they deserved. Once she saw Joan begin to stir, she decided it must be close to daylight and she headed out into the hall.

  The castle was still, indicating that everyone was still slumbering or had left for the day. Looking out the window, she could see that the sun had just begun to climb above the horizon. She decided to take a walk out to the stable and see if Philip’s horse was still there. She was fairly certain she could hide in the stable without him even knowing she was there, should that be necessary.

  It was not, however. Philip must have gotten over his inebriation rather quickly that morning because, by the time Katey reached the stables, his giant black destrier was gone. The stalls that usually held the horses ridden by Edward and Charles were also vacant. This was a good indication that she was safe to return to the tower without being seen. Only a few stable boys were bustling about and none of them seemed to notice the princess as she did her investigation.

  ***

  Upon reaching the door at the top of the secret stairwell, Katey hesitated once again. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt compelled to see King Matthew, just to confirm that he was there. She wasn’t sure what he even looked like. She had heard he was quite handsome with a rugged appearance. Dark brown hair, kind brown eyes. She had also heard of the brutal murder of his beloved wife. In moments when she found herself pitying her own situation, she reflected upon Matthew’s plight and she felt slightly better about her own.

  She reached out slowly and gave a light tap on the door. She knew he had heard her because of a stirring on the other side, a flutter of pages perhaps. This time she waited for him to open the slot, which he did promptly. “Who is there?” he whispered. She could tell by the projection of his voice that he was peering through the narrow slit. She had brought some water and a towel, intending to clean up the bloody spot on the floor before she left. For now, she folded the towel and draped it over the dry blood and gently sat down on the floor next to the door. It was difficult to see much at all, but she could see his filthy hand holding up the flap of a door and his kind eyes peering through at her.

  Matthew was also having difficulty seeing through the narrow slot. At first, all he could see was a flurry of light blue fabric. Then, after a moment, a pair of eyes matching the dress was gazing back at him. So his angel was a girl! And from what he could tell by the bit of her face that he could actually see, a very pretty girl at that.

  “Good morrow!” he repeated. “How are you? I was hoping you would return.”

  The pretty eyes blinked, but there was no accompanying voice. Matthew found this odd, so he continued. “What is your name?” he asked.

  Katey very much wanted to answer his questions but simply could not. She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, fidgeting with the ruby ring she always wore, the one with her family crest. Perhaps, if she showed him the ring, he would be able to figure out whom she was. But, then again, it might be best if he did not know. If it were ever found out that someone was paying him visits, she would rather no one knew it was she.

  So, she just sat there for a moment, twirling her ring, before she finally looked up and met his gaze again.

  “You’re shy then?” he asked, attempting to figure out what might be going on with the girl on the other side of the door. “That’s okay. You don’t have to speak. My name is Matthew.”

  The kindness in his voice made Katey smile. She nodded, not sure if he could see, attempting to let him know she was aware of who he was.

  “Thank you so very much for the gifts that you brought me yesterday. Your gesture was very much appreciated, especially the food. I hope that you didn’t get in any sort of trouble on my account.”

  Katey shook her
head “no,” hearing him sigh in relief.

  “Good, good! I’m so glad that you’ve come back today!”

  Again, Katey signaled back with a nod. She realized he was probably hungry so she opened up the little basket she had brought and began to slide thinly sliced pieces of fruit through the slot.

  Matthew accepted them graciously “Thank you so much!” he exclaimed. “Pears are my favorite!” He couldn’t help but place the first piece directly into his mouth. The sweet juice rolled down his chin and it was all he could do to keep from giggling like a young child.

  The food kept coming. Katey was able to procure some salted ham from the breakfast preparations, as well as quite a bit of bread and even a bit of jam. She slipped the bounty through the slot as carefully as possible and Matthew made a little pile next to the door. Next, she handed through some blank paper, thinking he might want to get his thoughts down or that, perhaps, she could attempt to send a letter to his brother, if she found someone she could trust as courier, though that would be extremely risky. She knew she would not be able to pass an ink well through the tiny slot so she had brought some charcoal from the fire, thinking he could use that to write. Lastly, she had brought some fresh water. This was going to be the trickiest. She was not exactly sure how to get it to him or if he even had a container to put it in, but she wanted to try. She held the canteen up to the slot, hoping he could see what it was.

  “Water?” he asked, shocked and elated. “Oh, my!” The boys who brought his gruel would also bring him a small plate of water to refill his tiny cup once every few days. It was often putrid, as if it had been used to wash dishes, but he drank it because he was constantly thirsty. He would often stick the cup out the window or even his tongue, for that matter, on a rainy day, hoping to catch a drop or two. At this point, he was so used to being thirsty he almost didn’t notice it, until he saw water and then it was as if his throat was on fire.

  “Let me see,” he said, grabbing the cup from it’s place on the floor next to his bed and yesterday’s grimy food dish. “If we had some way of making a channel for it to flow through . . ..” He looked around the room but there was next to nothing in sight, let alone an object that could be manipulated into a tube.

  It wasn’t necessary, however, as Katey had brought something that should work; a thick stem from a ginger plant. She used a small knife to cut it open, forming it into a little slide.

  Matthew laughed, “You’re a genius!” he said. He eagerly held the small silver cup up to the end of the stem as Katey carefully poured fresh water down the makeshift canal and into the container. When it was filled, Matthew gulped it down. Katey refilled it several times until the canteen was empty. Matthew was still thirsty but at least his tongue was no longer stuck to the roof of his mouth. Katey made a mental note to bring more water next time. Though she would no longer be able to clean the blood from the floor, at least Matthew had been slightly refreshed. She had thought cleaning up a bit risky anyway. If Edward noticed, it could be viewed suspiciously. So she decided to leave the bloody mess and continue to bring something to cover it each time she came so she would not have to see it or sit upon it.

  And she felt more comfortable with her decision to continue to pay King Matthew daily visits when she noticed a small hovel in the hallway across from the stairs. There was a little cutout in the wall next to where the top of the stairwell rounded the corner. She should be able to stow away there for a few moments undetected, should someone ascend the stairs while she was visiting.

  There were no windows in the hallway but the arrow slits in Matthew’s chamber would allow him to see King Philip returning to the castle. She wasn’t sure how to let Matthew know that he needed to be mindful of the King’s return but she thought she could stay for a while, if he wanted to her, if he was able to let her know when the king and his men arrived. Matthew clearly wanted a visitor, as he began to chat, and she wanted to stay for as long as possible, fascinated as she was with her new friend. There had to be someway to let him know.

  “Well, now,” Matthew said, settling down next to the door and sliding a piece of charcoal into the slot to hold it open so that he would not have to. “If I don’t know your name, perhaps I could guess it.”

  Katey smiled, doubtingly.

  “No? You don’t think that I am capable of guessing your name?”

  Again, Katey shook her head.

  “I see! I’ve been challenged.” He picked up a piece of the ham that she had brought to him and began chewing and thinking simultaneously. “This is very good by the way. Would you like some?”

  Katey shook her head. How kind was this man to offer to share his food with her when he was starving and she was free to eat as much as she liked whenever she liked?

  “Alright then. You have beautiful blue eyes and your hair is . . . oh, red, I see. How beautiful!” Katey held a loose lock of hair through the slot so that he could see. “Hmmm, perhaps your name is. . . .Scarlet?” He asked. She shook her head no. “Not Scarlet. Anything to do with having red hair?” Again, the answer was no. “Alright. Well, it’s probably not Bluey so I’m assuming it has nothing to do with having blue eyes either then? No. Okay, well, then, I’ll just guess names until I get it right. How about Myrtle?” He heard no sound but could tell by the slight vibration in the door that she was laughing. “No? Something less hideous then? Perhaps your name is Grace or Mary then?” Again she shook her head. “Nothing biblical? Maybe you are right. Maybe I’m not good at guessing names.” He faked a sigh of disdain. “I guess, I’ll just have to give you a new name then. How about,” he paused in thought and then it came to him. “How about Angel?”

  Katey smiled. How wonderful was it that she thought of him as an angelic creature! She nodded her head happily.

  “Angel it is then!” he proclaimed. “Now, my sweet Angel, shall I try to guess your station?”

  Katey really preferred to stay as anonymous as possible so she rapidly shook her head in the negative.

  “No? You don’t want me to figure out that you are the Queen of Clovington?” Katey shuddered for a moment, afraid he had figure out her identity, but then he added, “No, Queen-Mother Agnes is probably too old and frail to climb the stairs.” Again, Katey laughed. Philip’s mother was shut up in a room somewhere on the other side of the castle. She kept to herself and he hardly mentioned her. She was no longer the queen since her husband had passed, but many people still referred to her as Queen Agnes as a sign of respect. Katey had met her only once and her disposition was almost as nasty as her son’s had been last night.

  “Well, I can tell by your gown that you are not a chamber maid or a serving wench. I suppose you must be fairly important. Perhaps someday you will tell me all about your adventures and what it is like to live on the other side of this door.”

  Again, Katey looked down at her hands, twirling her ring around her finger. Perhaps someday she would be able to tell him. But not today and not any time soon. The thought of speaking had crossed her mind from time to time over the years but she had always suppressed it. There was no way to un-speak the last utterance that had come out of her mouth and she was unable to bear the thought of ever causing such devastation again. The likelihood of Katey ever speaking another word was almost as minuscule as the possibility that King Matthew would someday walk out of his prison cell a free man.

  “You know, I wasn’t always the dashing rogue you see before you,” Matthew relayed, happy to have someone to talk to, even if she would not talk back. “Oh, no, before I became the ruler of this lavish villa, I lived a completely different life.” Reflecting on his home, on Zurconia and Arteria made him long for his freedom, for his friends and family. But it was therapeutic to talk about it and so he continued. “I once had a beautiful wife.” He allowed himself to caress her memory for a moment, to linger in the presence of her existence and acknowledge his queen for the amazing being she had been. He leaned back against the door, no longer able to see Katey’s eyes, which actually
allowed the words to flow more freely.

  “Her name was Margaret, but I called her Maggie. And she was gorgeous. Green eyes—the most beautiful green eyes you can imagine. She had this way of laughing, just slightly louder than yours actually,” he teased, “ but so pleasant, like the pitter-patter of rain gently rolling off of the window. That is, if your windows have panes,” he said his reality drawing him slightly back to his current location. “Oh, how I miss her. While I’m here,” he began, not sure if he should actually give voice to the ideas in his head, her silence beckoning him to continue, “While I’m here, I tend to pretend that she is back home, back in Zurconia, doing the things we loved to do together. Or working on her embroidery. Oh, how she loved to embroider. Do you like to embroider?” He paused in his story to look through the door at Katey. She was hanging on his every word and nodded her head in affirmation. “Yes, I’m sure you do. You are a Lady, definitely a Lady. Anyway, Maggie was such a seamstress. Whenever I’d get a rip or a tear of any sort, she’d patch it up herself. Can you imagine? The Queen doing her own patchwork? Or a King bothering with patchwork for that matter. But she enjoyed it. She enjoyed taking care of me, being my wife. I was so lucky,” he paused for a second, reflecting again on all that he had lost. “So very lucky indeed.”

  He was quiet for a moment and Katey felt so very sorry for him. She was actually holding back tears, though she was hoping he would not know. She didn’t want to embarrass him or make him feel like he should not have told her.