by Patty Jansen
'It can pop up in the best of families.'
'But don't you see? When the Korghas heir attacks, I'll be able to fend him off.' She had gone back to presuming the heir to be male. Dorabella had left the court two moons ago, leaving a letter expressing disgust with Larissia's prying into her background. 'Only, no one has attacked, and my time is almost up.' She scratched the taut skin on her ballooning belly. 'Which means I have to protect the child as well.'
Luso leaned on the windowsill. He looked thin and gaunt, but every time she asked him about his heath, he brushed her off.
'That is right, Lady Queen. I have spoken to your husband recently. He has detected some movements amongst the lower soldiers. There may well be a traitor in their midst.'
Pah, Deblen. Nervous about the upcoming birth, he had been seeing danger everywhere. He had even stripped the royal bedroom of all furniture to eliminate places for an assassin to hide. He slept with his sword on the bedside table and jumped every time she sneezed. He had even taken to listening to Luso's advice, which was saying much, because he privately confided how much he distrusted Luso and how he was going to send Luso packing once the baby was born.
'I swear to you, Larissia, if anyone in the palace is the Korghas heir, it's him.'
The thought had occurred to her, but by now she was certain the heir couldn't be in the palace, or she, with her increased sense of magic, would have found him out. But she couldn't tell Deblen that.
Luso turned from the window. 'Lady Queen, let's practice that shield again.'
She sighed. 'Do you ever stop?'
'For the good of the kingdom, no, I don't.'
Yes, she wanted to learn. She was good at it, the first time she had ever been good at anything. She heaved herself to her weary and swollen feet and slouched to the familiar spot next to his desk, facing him.
He raised his hand and spoke the magic word. A stream of blue light erupted from his fingers. Larissia had raised her hands, too, by now an almost thoughtless response. She muttered the spell and a bubble of blue grew around her, bouncing Luso's stream.
See how I repel this evil magic.
At that moment, a clear voice sounded. 'Lord Luso, I have brought the soldier who has been talking about a conspiracy--'
Deblen.
The blue magic vanished in a flash, but the fact that he had seen it lingered on his face; his mouth opened. 'Dear wife!' In a few steps, he was in the room, clutching Larissia, brandishing his sword at Luso. 'What were you doing to my wife?'
* * *
'Magic!' Deblen shouted, pacing the soft carpet of Larissia's private room. 'He was using magic on you.'
'No, you see it wrongly. He has been teaching me to recognise magic, so that I can protect myself against it.'
He whirled around. 'Enough. I saw what I saw. I think this court has had enough of Lord Luso. He's done nothing but seed fear amongst us. I've checked all the books in the kingdom: there was never a Korghas heir. He's been using the story to get himself a position in the palace. He is finished here. I've had him thrown in the dungeons. He will be tried tomorrow and with this evidence, there is only one outcome: the noose.'
'No!' Larissia cried into her hands. 'No, Deblen, don't do that. He's been helping us.' Then she straightened her back. 'I get to sit in the court. I am the Queen.'
Deblen stepped back, licking his lips. 'You're right of course, although the people of the kingdom will speak out badly against you if you work in your present condition, or if you can't leave matters such as normally handled by the law in the capable hands of those qualified to deal with it. Also, I think that the people will be rather disgruntled if you pardon a man who has committed the ultimate crime: performed magic within the walls of the palace.'
Blood rushed to Larissia's cheeks, but before she could say the word blackmail another thought came to her. 'You. It was you. You are the Korghas heir.'
'What is it you say?'
'You are the Korghas heir!' Larissia screamed now, so certain was she of her conclusion. She hadn't felt the magic, because she was used to it. 'You denied magic, you denied everything. You were trusting of me because you knew I'd come to you in the end. You bewitched me . . .'
Deblen stepped back, a look of disgust coming over his face. 'Dear wife, you hallucinate. I think for the good of the kingdom, I will keep you under guard in this room until you come to your senses.'
* * *
All day, the soldiers hammered in the courtyard under the window of her room. A platform, stairs leading up to it, a pole, a trapdoor. Larissia sat on the windowsill, tears streaming down her face. By tonight, the man she loved, the man who was the father of the child that kicked inside her, the man who was the saviour of the kingdom, would walk up the steps to die and she could do nothing to prevent it.
She, the Queen, shut in her room guarded by soldiers!
Several times, she unleashed her magic on the lock of the door, but it wouldn't budge: enchanted, with a spell stronger than she could break. Oh, why hadn't she seen it before?
At dusk, soldiers brought out the prisoner.
Gaunt and thin and dressed in nothing but squalid sack of a shirt, Luso looked old. She knew he was not much younger than her father had been, but he walked up the steps his head held high. At the top, he turned to the audience that had assembled in the courtyard. A soldier slapped him in the face. Luso spat at him.
Larissia cried oh, my love. He glanced up at her window, meeting her eyes, but what she saw there chilled her. What did that expression mean? It's your fault I'm going to my death?
At the sound of trumpets, Deblen strode from the palace. Dressed in magnificent Guorn blue, he looked like the king himself.
Larissia balled his fists. The traitor. If only those people down there knew. He was the Korghas heir. He had hidden magic much stronger than hers. Soon it would be all over the land.
A wave of panic came over her. She had to flee, before he came back upstairs, before she gave birth to Luso's child, before Deblen had a chance to kill both of them.
But she remained, transfixed by the horror about to take place, at the window. A spasm tightened her belly, but she ignored it.
In a window across the courtyard, Larissia spotted her mother, clutching a handkerchief. That was strange. Mother was normally uninterested in violence. What was she doing here? As Larissia watched, Mother noticed her. Her mouth moved and she made a gesture with her hand, but Larissia had no idea of its meaning.
Deblen had taken a piece of parchment from a soldier and faced Luso, whose hands had been tied behind his back, and the noose looped over his head.
'The people and the Queen of the House Guorn hereby sentence to death Lord Luso Emeran, who was caught, in the presence of witnesses, performing forbidden magic.'
The swelling crowd cheered.
Deblen continued, 'However, before we carry out the sentence, according to the laws of the kingdom, we shall grant Lord Luso one last wish.'
Luso spoke, gesturing with his eyes to the pocket in his tunic. The soldier retrieved a folded parchment and gave it to Deblen, who opened it and frowned.
'You want this delivered to the Queen? A blank piece of paper?'
Luso said nothing.
Larissia's heart jumped. A message for her, she knew for sure. Another spasm stabbed at her stomach.
'Very well then. Here, boy.' Deblen gave the parchment to a young boy standing on the steps of the platform. 'Tell my dear wife I will be with her shortly.' Then he spoke to the audience. 'I want you all to know that my wife is well, that rumours of her being taken by magic are all false. She is resting awaiting the birth of our child. I will order all power be returned to her as soon as she is able. She, not myself, is the rightful ruler of the land.'
Luso growled, 'You lie.'
'Be still. We have all seen your evil. Henceforth magic shall be gone from the palace.' With that, he pulled the rope.
Larissia cried, 'No!'
She stretched her hands towards court
yard. Blue magic flew from her fingers, twirled around the rope, but it wouldn't break--another proof of Deblen's invisible magic.
The trapdoor opened, Luso fell, the rope strung taut. He twitched, once, then hung still.
'No, Luso.' Tears ran over Larissia's cheeks. How could she fight the Korghas heir and his terrible magic alone?
Soldiers in blue Guorn livery took down the body and covered it with a blanket.
Choking with sobs, Larissia could no longer watch. She waited on the couch, listening for the footsteps of the courier boy in the corridor outside. Her hand on her belly, she tried to still the cramps that now came more often and were stronger. Please, little one, not now. She had to flee, but she also had to get Luso's last message before she ran.
Finally came the knock on her door, and the young boy entered, bowing. 'A letter for you, Queen.'
As Larissia heaved herself from the couch, a stabbing pain tore through her. She gasped, clutching her belly, but bit her lip and took the parchment from the boy's hand.
His face was white. 'Do I call the midwife, Lady?' His wide eyes stared at the floor.
Only then did she notice the wet stain on the fabric of the couch and fluid dripping down her legs. Panting, she nodded and sank back onto the couch.
He ran from the room, slamming the door behind him. Larissia groaned. Guess fleeing would have to wait. She breathed in and out, her eyes closed, letting magic still her thudding heart and calm her roiling belly. Blue light flowed around her stronger than ever before, but hiding magic would no longer be necessary. Within an hour or so, she would be pushing the Guorn heir into the world. After that, she would need all the magic she could muster to run.
Another pain tore through her, letting an involuntary cry escape her throat, the letter clutched against her belly in a white-knuckled hand. 'From your father. He will always live on.' Quick, she must read it, before anyone came, before the pain overwhelmed her.
Trembling, she unfolded the parchment, and an image leapt off the page: a young woman lay on a bed of pine needles in the forest, her face ringed by sweat-dampened hair. Larissia became that girl, her body torn by birthing pains. She threw her head back and howled.
'Zimelda, Stanufo, help me!'
Two balls of light floated down between the serene trunks of the pine forest. One became an old woman, the other a young man, ghost-like forms with blue halos. Without a word, they knelt on the forest floor. Larissia couldn't hold the urge to push any longer.
She vaguely heard thuds on the door, the midwife screaming, 'Lady Queen, let me in!'
But Larissia lay on the damp earth in the forest, and she pushed and pushed until the child slid from her, into the young Stanufo's hands. He smiled and kissed the baby's nose.
'Stanufo, please stay.'
He pulled her into a wordless embrace, but even as their mouths met, his form faded. A flash of blue lit up the forest, sucked into the baby's pale skin. Then he, and the old woman, were gone, and only a baby's cry disturbed the silence.
Not Larissia's baby. Not yet. A pain tore through her. She pushed hard, her hands clawing gouges into the cushions on the couch.
The girl cradled the shivering child. She threw Zimelda's cloak across both of them, then unbuttoned her nightgown and pushed the nipple of her full breast into the baby's mouth. The cries subsided. The child drank, strong and greedy, while the spots of blue settled on the pale skin. The young mother raked her hair behind her ear, and Larissia saw something eerily familiar in the gesture: her little finger was up. Her mother. Her mother who had been 'sickly' and away from her family so often after she was married. Lady Loiri Guorn had a secret. A Raven's secret. And the baby was . . .
No.
No, it couldn't be.
Sickened, as another wave of pain built in her, Larissia let the image fade. The parchment fluttered to the couch. She pushed and pushed and pushed, stifling cries of pain. The midwife bashed on the door, but Larissia stood there, sweating and trembling. Blood dripped onto the carpet. Why wasn't the child budging? And then a chill went through her. What if Luso had used his magic to . . .
Mother had known and had tried to warn her. Kill the child, she had mouthed. Kill it, or it will kill you.
Too late.
As she moaned through another pain, something else appeared on the parchment. A note, in Luso's strong loopy hand: Your late father paid a sick and dying friend to unmask his 'dear' wife's secret. He promised me the noose to spare me a slow and painful death. You . . . I hope your death will be slow and painful. Try magic--it won't help you. Farewell, Princess Larissia Emeran Korghas.
About this story:
This story resulted from a writing exercise: to write something with a standard setting: castle, magic, king, and rely purely on character to drive the plot and tension.
Taking back the Words
Originally published in Ticonderoga Online December 2008
Dust.
There was a taste of dust in Nick's mouth.
Dust that coloured his hand orange-red and dulled the surface of the silver ring on his finger.
The ring. Kylie.
Oh God, Kylie. His groan was a deep guttural sound like it came from the earth itself, a sound that didn't belong to him and yet it did, a sound that mingled with peaceful chirping of . . . zebra finches?
Nick pushed himself up. Finches twittered in straggly, leafless bushes surrounding the patch of red earth on which he sat. To his right, a clump of Spinifex lay in pieces as if cleaved by a giant axe. A skid-mark stopped on the other side and next to that was a wheel. A wheel and the ruins of a bumper and the road-blackened underside of a car.
Yes, that's how it had happened: Kylie. Her father. The argument.
How dare you blame me for something that happened while I wasn't even in the country, when my father wasn't even here?
God--had he really said that?
And run out the house watched by Kylie's grandmother and aunts and a dozen others on the porch. Jumped into car and took off down the dusty road at top speed.
And now . . .
He pulled a Spinifex thorn out of his arm. Remembered the massive red kangaroo that had jumped onto the road.
A nice fix he had gotten himself into now. Miles from anywhere without any food or water. And who knew when someone would be using this road. Could be hours. Days. Weeks.
Walking back to Kylie's wasn't an option. How many hours had he driven since leaving the community? God only knew. He'd be dead before he got there. If Kylie's brothers didn't find him first, and then he'd be dead anyway. They were big, they were very black, they were strong and they didn't think much of city lawyers with fancy degrees, especially ones with long foreign-sounding names, like Papadopoulos.
How could he have been so stupid to get into an argument?
'Excuse me.' The voice sounded low and gravelly, as if it came from the red sand itself.
Nick turned and looked around. Bushes, smashed-up clump of Spinifex, upside-down car.
'Excuse me.'
'Where are you? Show yourself!'
One of the wheels on the car started turning by itself. Another wheel shook. The side panel shivered, twisted, warped…
A front wheel drew out, elongated, into a boomerang-shaped appendage, a long-nailed claw at the end.
A claw?
Another wheel turned into a claw. The car boot became longer, and longer, until it grew into a tail. The body narrowed and twisted. Legs thrashed until the creature sat right side up: a monstrous lizard. Large red and yellow spikes covered its back, stubby snout and even its legs and tail. Round pop-eyes turned.
Nick crab-walked back into one of the dry bushes. 'What the heck are you?'
'I'm a thorny devil.'
A thorny--what? Nick remembered thorny devils from the zoo. 'But . . . you're supposed to be only the size of my hand.'
'Supposed to be.'
'Am I dead?'
The devil extended its tongue to lick a protruding eyeball. 'D
o I look dead to you?'
'No, but . . .' The skid-tracks of the car still marred the sand where the devil sat. 'I . . . I don't see cars turning into lizards every day.'
'Bet you don't, city-boy. You have a lot to learn.'
Nick stuck his hands in his pockets. Why should everyone remind him of his ignorance? Kylie's dad and now this creature.
'Pfrrrt. Ignore that old grumpybeaks. I'll give you a ride into town.'
Nick turned at the new, breathy voice.
Behind him stood a camel. Moving floppy lips into impossible positions, it nibbled tips of the bushes.
This was getting altogether too weird. 'You . . . you talk.'
'Pfrrt. 'Course I do. What d'ya think – that I'd be stupid?'
'Uhmmm.'
'You gonna stand there or get on my back? 's a long way to town.' The camel sank onto its front knees.
Nick did know a little bit about camel riding. At least he had ridden a camel before, even though it had been equipped with a saddle; he had been ten or so and the animal had been led around by an attendant. He pushed through the shrubbery.
But the devil shot in front of him, blocking his path. 'Wait a moment. He's never been to town; he doesn't even know the way.'
The camel blew his lips. 'Pfrrt. 'Course I do. We camels have our desert tracks. Ride with me.'
'Why would you go to town anyway? What's in a town? The desert gives you everything you need. I will teach you--'
''Course he wants to go to town. That's where the humans live, remember?'
The devil swung its tail. 'Shut your flobbery mouth. You don't even belong in Australia. You're nothing but an introduced pest.'
'Excuse me. May I remind you that I was born here? I have just as much right to be here as you do.'
'So you say.'
'Pffrt, why not?'
Nick pushed his way past the devil. 'Oh, cut arguing, you two. I don't even know if you're real or not, but I'll go with whoever can take me out of here. I've had enough local adventures to last me a lifetime.' And that included Kylie.
