by P. Mattern
The servant recovered her voice, "By the master’s hand, but he will say she ran off. Even now her body rests at the bottom of the salt cliffs north of the castle.”
“Take me there!” Adrastos said hoarsely, his alarmed eyes flashing with shock and unwept tears of grief.
By the time Adrastos and the servant reached the cliff bottom by a circuitous route, fingers of roseate light had begun creeping up upon the horizon beyond the sheltered expanse of sea that stretched out to it.
She was wrapped in a tapestry. Unwrapping it so that he could see her pale face, he gazed down on his beloved Parmitsvia. Damp tendrils of her hair loosened in the blowing wind and spread over the sand around her still head, forming a corona of long wet ringlets. Bruises on her face and neck stood out in stark contrast to her alabaster skin.
Adrastos collapsed on his knees, his proud head bent with grief. “My love, my beautiful love,” he moaned as he wept, clinging to her motionless body. Slowly, to the horror of Careen, he began to bite Parmitsvia -- first the palms of her hands, then her wrists, her neck and her bosom. ”Come back to me,” he moaned over and over, "surely it is not too late…”
A half hour later, after repeated attempts to revive her by injecting his venom, he finally realized there was nothing more he could do. He turned to the maid, frozen in place by both fear and all that she had just witnessed. “Help me carry her to the sea. Even the sea will be gentler to her than her Lord Husband ever was.”
The tide was coming in quickly so the pair pulled her inert body into the green glistening waves lapping onto the shore. As the soaked and exhausted maidservant stood, Adrastos sat on the shoreline hugging his knees until the last glimpse of Parmitsvia disappeared into the rippling cyan blue vastness of the ocean.
Minutes passed. Heaving a sigh Adrastos leapt up and bent his head to look the maidservant directly in the eyes. “You know what I am.”
"Yes M’lord,” she answered, her gaze averted.
“You cannot return to Tancred’s house now.”
“No,” she answered, her voice practically a whisper, "He has ordered I be slain for my complicity in my mistresses’ sins.”
“Then you will stay in my house.” Adrastos declared. "And you will soon have no fear of him. For Tancred has condemned himself to death.”
Two days later, while out with a hunting party, Lord Tancred became separated from his cavalcade and was attacked viciously by a wild beast, thought to be a mountain lion. Although the expert huntsmen of his house hunted for the offending animal for weeks afterward, it was never found.
Chapter 01: Present Day America
Charley Rabbit absentmindedly flipped his baby - fine blonde bangs out of his eyes and peered more intently into the comic book he was reading. The old wire comic book rack was in the middle of a long aisle at Goody's Pharmacy, between the greeting cards and school supplies. Charley could see that his favorite superheroes were in a dangerous situation -- an imposing, wrathful-looking creature appeared to be shooting some kind of rays out of its eyes in the direction of the hero, who had collapsed to the ground, momentarily stunned by the surprise blast to his chest. It was a gripping scene. He stared intently into this frame of the comic, scrutinizing every detail of the picture, trying to glean as much meaning as possible from the images. He had a vague sense that interpreting the storyline would go faster if he was able to decipher the symbols that were coming out of the mouths of the characters, the symbols encased in the balloons floating over their heads, but that wasn't an option for Charley.
Charley couldn’t read.
Deeply engrossed in the images, he almost didn't hear the low giggling coming from the end of the aisle. Looking up, he saw two cute teenage girls with their heads together, whispering and looking at him. One of them smiled and raised a tentative hand. Charley smiled and waved back, prompting another wave of giggling. Charley was about to go back to looking at his comic when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Did you find a good one, Charley?" His mom Mitzi asked.
Charley looked down into her teal and hazel eyes. He was actually taller than his mom now due to a growth spurt in his late teens.
"Yes mom, I want this one please," Charley said politely.
Together Mitzi and Charley walked toward the front of the store, past the teenage girls. Charley smiled and said, "Bye bye!" a little too brightly to the girls as he passed them, smiling widely and allowing a thin stream of drool to escape one of the corners of his mouth. The reaction of the girls was immediate. Laughter, some "oh – my - gods" and the word "retard" wafting after Charley as he navigated to the storefront.
Charley was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride home, looking at his comic and chewing on his lower lip. Mitzi, who had galvanized all of her Christian charity not to tell the laughing teenagers off, had calmed down and glanced in Charley's direction lovingly. Such a handsome boy - well, man - he had grown to be. And a good companion. It had only been Mitzi and Charley since her husband Sam had passed away suddenly 10 years ago. Charley was in his mid - twenties now, having graduated (if you could call it that) from the Special Education Program at East Brooke High School at 21. Charlie's I.Q. turned out to test in the 45-60 range, and although the Special Education teachers had tried to teach Charlie to read they had one by one eventually given up and labeled him "uneducable".
Nowadays Charley caught the city bus 4 days a week and did piecework at the local ACA workshop. At least Charley was productive, Mitzi reflected. And Charley's job saved Mitzi the expense of hiring a caregiver for Charley while she worked her own part time job at Priscilla Adams, makers of specialty quilted Ladies' totes and handbags. Mitzi sighed inwardly as she reflected that both her world and Charley’s had been shrinking over the last five years or so.
Still, Mitzi struggled to provide opportunities for Charley to integrate into the community. So far it had been movies, fairs, and an occasional outing for bowling, even though it was not Charley's favorite ("OW -- too noisy mom!" he would say, covering his ears). Charley's brain damage at birth had caused slower than normal cognitive development and also oversensitivity to noise. Charley didn't care for the bowling echoes and the noise of pins being hit but he was possessed of an exceptionally easygoing nature and was a good sport. If they were ever in a situation where Charley felt overstimulated they had a code word "Christmas" to let Mitzi know that Charley was close to freaking out. Charley's freak - outs were not pretty; his eyelids drooped, his hands shook, and overall Charley gave the appearance of someone having a petit mal seizure. Occasionally, Tourette’s - style, a foul word or an ominous noise would emanate from Charley's otherwise PG-rated mouth.
* * *
The next day, Saturday, dawned sunny and bright with pleasant Indian summer temperatures. Mitzi decided to take Charley to the annual Medieval Faire on the outskirts of town. She was pretty sure that Charley would enjoy it. He loved to play with rubber swords and build the medieval lego kits that included castles, knights and moats. The Faire was being held at the municipal fairgrounds only 15 minutes away. Charley responded enthusiastically to her suggestion and after waiting an eternity for Charley to brush his teeth with the new electric toothbrush he had developed a fascination with they took off together for the Faire.
As they pulled around a tree lined bend in the road the fairgrounds appeared, ablaze with the colors of many voluminous tents and colorful banners flying in the wind. The banners were decorated with images of griffins, falcons and lions and in the tents underneath were sheltered food kiosks, goods for sale and games of skill and chance. Strolling musicians playing lutes, flutes and other period instruments provided a melodious backdrop to the scene. Many of the attendees were in medieval costumes. The ladies were dressed in laced bodices with trumpet sleeves and full skirts, their long hair in ringlets. The men wore doublets and stockings with wide belts from which knives and swords hung. Some had bows and arrows.
Mitzi could see in the distance across the fairgrounds that several tar
gets had been set up and an archery competition was in progress. She glanced up at Charley, who was at her side silent but smiling and seemed to be taking in the visual feast spread out before them.
Charley let out a whistling breath as if he'd been holding it in. "I love this place, Mom! Can we get something to eat?" With Charley's question Mitzi became aware of the layers of savory cooking smells wafting in their direction. She and Charley walked across the grass to a stand offering smoked, roasted turkey legs, fragrant egg - rich yeast breads, boiled potatoes and ears of corn roasted in the husk. These were served with fruity "ale" that tasted something like a spiced cider.
They carried their wooden trays to a spot under a group of elm trees where several long tables had been set up. Although the tables were filling up Mitzi spotted open spaces at one end of a table under the most imposing elm. The table was already occupied by a young dark haired girl in a long green velvet gown with fluted sleeves and two young men, one fair and one dark, wearing similar period garb. Even though the tables were public seating Mitzi felt as though she needed to ask permission to sit down with the strangers, who were engrossed in an animated conversation.
"Excuse me," she said, a little more loudly than she'd intended, "Are these seats taken?"
Smiling, the brunette in the emerald green velvet dress looked up at Mitzi and then Charley, "Not at all! Please join us!" she invited them warmly. The young woman's companions nodded assent also, the blonde one murmuring something in the dark haired boys’ ear as Mitzi and Charley took seats opposite each other at the end of the table.
The girl continued smiling at Mitzi. "I'm Fressenda," she said pleasantly, "And these are my brothers, Cass and Lux." Mitzi smiled back, feeling as always the awkward undercurrent of apprehension that she always felt when meeting new people with Charley in tow. The feeling was a combination of apologetics and fierce motherly protective instinct. "I'm Mitzi and this is my son, Charley.”
"I'm Charley!" Charley said, sticking out a hand toward Fressenda. "I'm Charley Rabbit. I work at the ACA Workshop downtown!" The predictable silence that followed Charley's declaration didn't last very long; Mitzi saw the usual look of realization dawn in the girl's eyes first, and then Fressenda pumped Charley's hand with renewed and welcoming enthusiasm. "Good for you Charley Rabbit. And I'm very pleased to meet you. Shake hands with Charley, boys."
The dark haired one took Charley's hand first. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rabbit," he intoned solemnly. "I'm Cass." The blonde young man stood up and reached over his brother, shaking Charley's hand in turn.
"And I'm Lux. Short for Pollux. We're twins. Fraternal, not identical, thank goodness. I'm obviously the better looking one."
Charley stared at him with wide and dazzled eyes. "Pleased to meet you! Why is your hair so long?"
Inwardly Mitzi cringed, but the handsome blonde stranger seemed to take Charley's question in stride.
"Well, Charley, I'm in a band. And when you're in a band, people think you're cooler if you have longer hair."
Charley nodded. "Yeah. Like a rock and roll band – right?"
"Right!" Lux had been leaning over his brother to shake Charley's hand. Without warning or provocation the dark - haired young man elbowed Lux sharply in the ribs, knocking him off balance and causing him to spill his ale as he fell awkwardly back into his seat. "DAM – er -- DARN IT CASS!" Lux sputtered, his face flushed with frustration. "What was THAT?"
Cass coolly took a bite out of his turkey leg. "You said you were better looking. I say it’s a matter of opinion. I had to defend my honor, you churlish boor."
Fressenda scowled. "Boys, behave!" She hissed. Turning to Mitzi she said sadly, "I can't take them anywhere, obviously."
Charley seemed amused and delighted by the twin's antics. The incident seemed to break the ice, and feeling much more relaxed, Mitzi and Fressenda launched into an effortless and pleasant conversation while Cass and Lux kept Charley amused with an ongoing exhibition of verbal sparring.
Mitzi began to actually enjoy herself. It was a welcome change to connect to people outside of the confines of their narrow circle of acquaintances -- a circle that had become even narrower in the years since Sam's untimely death. Sam's wonderful parents, Charley's grandparents, had also passed away several years ago within 18 months of each other. Mitzi's mother, also a widow, had followed. Mitzi felt keenly their absence in her and Charley's lives, and each loss seemed to bring back afresh the primal and wrenching grief she'd felt after Sam's passing. Mitzi was pulled from her deep thoughts with the realization that Fress had posed a question. "I'm sorry?" She queried, "I didn't hear you. Lost in thought for a minute I guess."
"Oh, that's OK!" Fress answered. "I was wondering if it would be okay with you if we took Charley off your hands for a while; sort of give him an insider’s tour of the Faire. The Maypole is at 3:30, and then Cass and Lux are scheduled to perform in the jousting tournament at 4. We could meet you at the Maypole in an hour or so."
"You want to watch a Maypole Dance Charley?" Mitzi asked him enthusiastically.
"Um." Fress said, "I thought he could join in and do the Maypole with us. We could always use an extra guy, since more girls than guys participate usually."
Mitzi's bright - eyed expression wavered. "Charley... do a Maypole Dance…? I'm not sure--"
"OH CAN I MOM?!" Charley's eyes were wide with excitement. "I can do it, mom! I can help!" He tugged at her elbow.
Mitzi cleared her throat. "What does the dance entail, exactly?" It was not that Mitzi thought Charley would be incapable, but she was very protective of her son, and did not wish for him to endure any ridicule or humiliation. Others could be cruel and uncompassionate; the years had taught her this lesson time and time again. She was wary.
Charley turned his warm brown eyes eagerly toward his mother. "Oh PLEASE can I mom? I like my new friends a lot. Can I go?"
Friends. That was a word she was unaccustomed to hearing from Charley. He had never really had any friends before, and she wouldn't want to deprive him the experience because of her own fears.
"Oh, there's really nothing to it!" Piped up Cass. "He can follow my lead! He'll be fine!"
Lux snorted, and Cass kicked him under the table with a heavy boot. "Yowch," he muttered.
Fress fixed a critical eye on the two, and her mere gaze was enough of a reprimand. Lux looked back at her innocently, but she knew he was plotting revenge.
"Can't take you anywhere, honestly," she stated, shaking her head, and then averted her attention back to Mitzi. "There isn't really anything to worry about with the Maypole. The guys actually just stand still for most of it, until the end, and he can just follow Cass. Newbies try it all the time, and we've never had any incidents. Trust me, he'll be fine!"
Mitzi was pleased and taken aback in a leery, protective way. Offers like this were unprecedented in her experience. What could these strangers, kind or not, know about Charley and his abilities? Flustered, she began, "I'm not sure--" but was immediately interrupted by Charley snorting and jumping impatiently in his seat, pleading, "Oh COME ON, Mom! Please!"
Everyone at the table was looking impassively and expectantly at Mitzi, and she found herself saying, "Well, I guess that would be fine... are you sure you don't mind?"
Fress leaned forward earnestly, her eyes meeting Mitzi's own. "It would be our pleasure. And don't be concerned. I work at the library and I've seen you and Charley there many times. Also, if it puts your mind at ease, I've had experience working with kids at Easter Seals camp. Let's exchange cell numbers. I'll keep my cell on and we'll be just a call away." Fress smiled warmly, compassionately. A rarity. Mitzi hoped her decision was the right one.
"I'll be there to watch you do the Maypole at 3:30, Charley," she said, giving him a quick hug.
After watching Charley walk away hand – in - hand with Fressenda, her amusing brothers flanking them on each side, Mitzi looked heavenward for a moment. The warm September sun shone brilliantly, but a cool breeze that seemed
to emanate from the surrounding forest portended the coming change of seasons. Mitzi wandered among the tented stalls of medieval merchandise looking for some tangible artifact to mark her and Charley's experience there. For Charley, she selected a t-shirt printed in a trompe l'oeil manner as the upper portion of a suit of armor. For herself she bought a bell sleeved peasant blouse. On a whim she also added a beribboned floral headband; it made her feel festive in a Mayday kind of way, and more a part of the festival goers. With a start she realized that she had somehow lost track of time. It was already time for the Maypole event. Her anxiety began to mount again as she forged ahead through the throng of fair - goers and past the aromas of baked goods and roasted meats emanating from the smoky food tents toward the tall, ribbon - adorned Maypole protruding skyward in the distance.
Anxiously weaving through the crowd to get a spot as close to the front as possible, she internally prayed that Charley would be okay. If she saw him fall, she would be right there to run to his aid. She remembered how long it had taken him to learn how to tie his own shoes, and wondered how in the world he was going to be able to participate in an activity involving 40 or more laces.
The Maypole dancers were already arranged in a circle around the Maypole. She spotted Charlie, and Fress, Cass, and Lux seemed to be coaching him and encouraging him although the music hadn't started yet. The musicians had assembled off to the left, an eclectic - looking group with an interesting array of painted, mostly rustic - looking instruments; A lute, painted wooden recorders, some other woodwind - type instruments, a guitar or two, a hodgepodge assortment of painted drums, and a lovely tambourine girl with ribbons and flowers in her long wavy hair and flowing from her tambourine.
The music began, and to Mitzi's surprise, only the women seemed to move at all, weaving in and out, creating a pattern with their ribbons, and then reversing course to unravel them. After the third dance, Mitzi had almost completely relaxed. Fress was right -- the men hadn't moved at all. Just as she was about to chide herself for having been so worried about nothing, a particularly festive tune was struck up by the jovial group of musicians. That must have just been the warm-up, Mitzi thought. This one must be the main event. She tried to be positive, but she could not help her growing tension. Anxiety mounting, she gulped.
