The Tower in the Mist

by A. L. Jambor

  “I found the portal. It’s just like Geezer’s portal. It’s in a cave, glowing, windy. I think I scared the hell out of him when he stepped out of the cave and I was just standing there.”

  “And I imagine he scared you, too.”

  “I was an adolescent who played war games every chance I got. Nothing scared me. I’d cut off more imaginary heads…”

  I felt a shiver run up my spine.

  “Is that how it was with Branford? Was it just another war game?”

  “No. I had no other choice.”

  “Geezer thinks you did.”

  “Geezer wants peace. The people wanted blood. They demanded blood.”

  He walked away from me. I let him go for a few feet. He stopped and turned around.

  “Have you seen my people? Do you see how they live?”

  “I saw them when we rode through the city,” I said.

  “Do they look unhappy?”

  “No, but…”

  “Branford taxed them and beat them and killed them. They had nothing when I arrived. Now they have food, shelter, and clothing.”

  “He’s only saying you didn’t have to cut off Branford’s head.”

  “Do you believe that? I mean do you really believe that?”

  No. My first thought was no.

  “But aren’t you afraid Justin’s army will attack you?” I said.

  “Justin’s army is camped on my east meadow. They have pledged their alliance to me.”

  He walked back to me and put his hand on my face. I loved the gesture.

  “Do you believe I should have let him live?” he said.

  “No.”

  “And why do you believe that?”

  “Because the people would still think of him as their lord, and you want to be king.”

  He lifted my head so he could look into my eyes.

  “Am I a bad king?”

  No.

  “The people love me. They willingly pay their taxes because they know I will take care of them. My soldiers protect them. I’m a better man and they know it. And I’ll be a better king.”

  “Do you love them, too?”

  I saw a flicker in his eye, a split second of doubt.

  “I take care of them.”

  He took my hand and we continued to walk.

  “What was your father like?” I asked.

  “He was a banker. Our family owned a bank in London. I would have inherited it one day.”

  “When were you born?” I asked.

  “January 26, 1885. The day Khartoum fell.”

  “What’s Khartoum?” I asked.

  “It’s a city in Africa.”

  “What do you mean it fell?”

  “The city was being held by a British general named Gordon. He couldn’t hold it. We say it fell; it’s an expression. It fell into enemy hands. They won - we lost.”

  And you want Justin to fall into your hands.

  We walked without talking for a while. I loved being with him.

  “You said when you came back from Eton. What was Eton?”

  “It was a boarding school. I spent the winter there and came home during the summer.”

  “So when did you see your parents?”

  “My mother died when I was young. My father would come home on weekends and I’d see him at dinner. He’d introduce me to some newly widowed woman with money. This is my son, Mason.”

  “Mason, that’s your name?”

  “Yes, I was born Mason Sinjin Jones.”

  “What kind of name is Sinjin?”

  “It’s St. John, but everyone says Sinjin. I don’t know why.”

  “Do you love the people?”

  I just couldn’t let this go.

  “I love them well enough,” he said.

  I decided to let it go.

  February 11

  I love making love. My experience with sex was limited to my experience with my husband. It was sweet, but I didn’t mind those times when he would be busy at the lab and unable to come home. But with Mace, each time we do it, I just want it more.

  I don’t see Geezer alone anymore. I thought I saw him in the garden one day. I was in the castle coming down the stairs when I looked out a window. The garden was below it. I thought I saw Geezer’s dark robe, but it must have been a shadow. I know Mace sees him every day. I wonder if Geezer’s avoiding me.

  I think Mace feels the same way about me that I do about him. He touches me all the time. I even love the smell of him. The skin on his chest is soft and smooth. I love to touch him and run my hand over the center of his chest and lay my hand over his heart.

  The wine we drink here is called mead. It’s made from honey and I like the taste, but I don’t like the way it smells.

  The food isn’t very interesting, either. It’s winter and we are limited to meat and fruit that’s been kept in a dark cellar for months. It’s losing its flavor, but I won’t complain. There are too many people starving in this country. I want to help Mace. He does want to be a good king.

  February 13

  I am beyond angry at Geezer. I want to hit him and hurt him.

  February 14

  I was too angry yesterday to write. I just couldn’t believe what happened.

  I was alone in the garden waiting for Mace. Geezer found me sitting on a bench. He sat next to me. The night before he had given me a look from across the dinner table. I didn’t like the look. Though I was happy to see him, I braced myself.

  He began by telling me I was living in a dream.

  “He’ll never marry you,” he said.

  “I didn’t think he would,” I lied.

  “Yes, you did. You are like all other women.”

  “You’re angry with me.”

  “No, I’m not angry. I’m concerned.”

  Why do people say that when they’re angry? Do they think it makes them seem like better people?

  “Well you don’t have to be concerned. I don’t want to marry Mace.”

  He didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe me.

  “He can’t marry a commoner. He must marry royalty.”

  “How would anyone know I wasn’t royalty?”

  “What do you mean, lie?”

  “Why not? They wouldn’t be able to prove anything.”

  My body was shaking.

  “And what about Mace? He’s not royalty either.”

  He turned his head and looked at me.

  “He’s marrying Neela.”

  I felt my heart stop.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s marrying Branford’s daughter.”

  I shook my head.

  “No, he can’t.”

  “He told me this morning,” Geezer said. “You and I are to leave tomorrow. He’s announcing the betrothal at dinner. He’s invited the nobles.”

  Geezer got up and walked away. He moved too fast for me to grab his robe.

  I got up and walked through the garden. It was unseasonably warm and my hair was loose. The wind blew it into my face and as I pulled it aside, Mace was standing in front of me.

  I threw my arms around his neck

  “I hate you, I hate you,” I said.

  “He told you, didn’t he?”

  “I hate you.”

  “I wanted to tell you myself,” he said.

  “How can you marry her?”

  I was sobbing.

  “I don’t love her.”

  “Then why? Why marry her?”

  “It will solidify my claim on the throne.”

  “And that’s what you care about?”

  “It’s all I’ve ever cared about - until I saw you.”

  “And you’re still not willing…”

  “To what? To give it up? Don’t be foolish, Margaret. I never pretended to be anything other than what I am. But I didn’t count on feeling this way about you. You’ve torn me in two.”

  I pulled away.

  “Come to me tonight,” he said.

  “I
can’t,” I said.

  “Please.”

  I came to him that night. We made love and held each other until dawn.

  February 15

  The horses were mounted in the courtyard when I came outside. Geezer was sitting on his gray mare.

  I felt arms go around my waist.

  “I love you,” he said.

  My heart was broken. I turned to look at him. I kept looking at his eyes and then I saw the pain. He did love me. His eyes couldn’t lie. He held my hands.

  “I’ll come to the tower one day,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I won’t be able to stay away.”

  He squeezed my hands.

  “You are the only one I love,” he said. “I can’t make you believe it but it’s true.”

  I believed it. God help me, I believed it.

  “I will come to the tower,” he said.

  I hated crying. I hated people to see how I felt. I couldn’t stop the damned tears.

  “Please don’t,” I replied.

  He helped me onto my white mare and I held his hand for a moment. He rubbed his thumb across my knuckles as Geezer left the courtyard.

  “I will come to the tower,” he said.

  I believed him. I turned and looked at him as I rode away. He stayed and watched me.

  February 20

  Geezer was polite as we rode home. He rode ahead of me but not too far.

  I was a mess. I was angry at myself, but I was also hurt and mad at Mace. I felt stupid too. I hadn’t thought of marrying him. Marriage on Pryll was kind of an afterthought. But here, it’s everything.

  I keep saying he doesn’t love her. I keep telling myself he won’t sleep with her. But if he needs an heir, he’ll have to. I read Matt’s book on British monarchs. Mace will need an heir.

  February 21

  Geezer wasn’t in the tower when I went there to read his big book. He leaves like that sometimes. He goes to town or just roams in the woods. I think he wants to stay away from me. I still feel so stupid.

  I thought Geezer might have feelings for me, but he never made a move on me. I should have kept my feelings for Mace to myself. I should have stayed away from Mace during the day when everyone could see. It’s easy to say that when Mace is so far away and I can’t see him.

  I took a bath before going into the house. Geezer still leaves a dress and a towel for me.

  March 23

  My boobs are killing me. They hurt so much. And I keep throwing up.

  Geezer must have heard me barfing. He came to the cave while I had my head over the toilet. I looked up and there he was.

  “I must have a virus,” I said. “I can’t stop throwing up.”

  “Come inside when you’re done,” he said.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  “Just come inside.”

  His eyes were soft. He wasn’t mad.

  When I walked into his kitchen, the smells I usually loved turned my stomach. He had set a cup on the table.

  “Drink that. It will help.”

  “What is it?”

  “Chamomile and honey.”

  My stomach lurched.

  “It will work,” he said.

  I sat down and put my hand on the cup. The warmth felt good. I took tiny sips and he was right .̶ it did help.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes, a little.”

  “Is there anything else going on?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Just anything different.”

  I couldn’t tell him about my boobs.

  “I’m kind of tired.”

  And I pee all the time.

  “Do you know what’s happening to you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What’s happening to your body?”

  “Geezer, what are you talking about?”

  He had a smile on his face. He was enjoying this.

  “I think you’re going to have a baby.”

  No, that was impossible.

  “I’m barren. All the women on Pryll are barren.”

  “But you’re not on Pryll. You’ve been here for months with clean air and water. You’ve been eating well. Your body has healed.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. Matt was right. I was fertile again. But I knew nothing about pregnancy. I’d never seen a pregnant woman.

  “Do you have any books?” I said. “I have to see if that’s what this is.”

  Or I won’t believe it.

  April 23

  I’m not throwing up anymore. I still feel crappy but my stomach is okay. It’s warmer during the day and I’m taking walks in the woods.

  The big window at the entrance of my cave gives me a view of the world and when I saw the first leaf buds on the trees, I grew excited. We came to Tresteria in late summer. I’ve never seen spring.

  Geezer went to town today. There are rumors that Mace is bringing an army to take over London. He married Neela.

  Geezer didn’t want to tell me. He tried to keep it from me but I forced him to talk to me. I haven’t heard from Mace. He hasn’t written to me.

  Geezer is a sweet man. He wove a cradle out of tree branches. It rocks back and forth.

  He also made a blanket from lamb’s wool. The baby should be born in November. I told him the baby would never get cold as long as I stayed in the cave or his tower, but he said you never know. He likes to be prepared.

  We spend our days together now. I think we’re getting closer. He put his hand on my stomach and told me it’s a girl. I laughed. How could he know that?

  April 25

  Mace’s army entered London yesterday. Geezer was there. He flew to London two days ago when he heard the army was approaching.

  Geezer saw Justin and then he came home. He said Justin is weak and feeble. Some disease is eating away at him. His face is marked by pocks.

  Geezer wanted to see Mace but couldn’t find him at the army camp. He says Mace is leading his troops himself. Geezer smelled like burning wood.

  I can’t imagine what war is like. It’s so peaceful here in the tower. Geezer won’t let me go to town. He says people do terrible things when they know war is coming. He’s afraid they will hurt me.

  I finished Matt’s book about the monarchs. War and peace, over and over. So much death.

  Geezer said Neela didn’t come with Mace. He said she’s still at the northern castle. I know I should hate her, but I feel sorry for her. No one should be married to someone they don’t love.

  May 1

  When I lie on my back, my stomach has a bump. It’s a tiny bump, but it’s there. I rub my hand over it and wonder what she’ll look like. I think of her as a girl because of what Geezer said. Since Mace and I have dark hair, she’ll have dark hair. At least that’s what the books say. She’ll have brown eyes, too.

  Geezer is creating tiny gowns for her. They are piling up all over the tower. I told him she would grow, but he said they would grow, too, so it’s okay. She’ll have a different gown for every day in the year and then some.

  Mace cut off Justin’s head.

  June 5

  I felt her kick today. The book says four months and she’s right on time. It felt like a flutter in my stomach. The bump is larger. I keep thinking this is some kind of miracle. My mother would have given anything to experience this. All the women on Pryll would have.

  Geezer holds me sometimes. He can’t get over Justin’s death. We sit on the divan and he starts a fire in the fireplace. It doesn’t make the room too warm. It must be a magical fire.

  He puts his arm around my shoulder. He is sad. People are dying and he can’t help them. It weighs on him. I can’t think of anything to say that will help. I sit close to him. It’s comfortable. We have someone.

  July 17

  Mace announced that his wife is expecting an heir.

  July 29

  Geezer said Neela is sick. Mace sent for Geezer.

  August 5

&nb
sp; Neela lost the baby.

  August 18

  I feel so clumsy. When I walk through the tunnel to take my bath, I waddle. Geezer says it’s charming. If he wasn’t so cute, I’d smack him.

  He asked me if I’d like to move into the tower. He created another room under his loft. It’s halfway up on the other side of the stairs. It has a window that looks out on the woods. I can watch the birds teaching their babies to fly in the rocking chair he wove for me. I said yes.

  August 29

  The gowns have been stowed in a basket next to the cradle. Geezer created a bathroom for me next to my room. I can take a bath here now.

  The baby keeps me awake at night. She moves around and kicks all the time. I can’t walk as far as I did before.

  I eat all the time, too. Geezer is a wonderful cook. He went to Earth to find out how to make pancakes. I was craving them. Now I have pancakes three times a day. I never get tired of them. Especially with horseradish.

  September 15

  Geezer is reading to me now. All I want to do is lie in bed. He sits in the rocker and reads me stories he wrote about Sunge and Earth in his ridiculous book. That’s what Mace called it.

  Geezer said London is a mess. The people are angry over Justin’s death even though it’s months after the fact. Geezer isn’t worried, though. He says this happens after a king is deposed. Mace is strong. He’ll get them organized.

  I try to remember his face. I can see his brown eyes and his lips. I have trouble when it comes to his nose. I keep mixing it up with Geezer’s. I do remember the way his body felt against mine, though. His chest against my chest. I’ve been longing for his body lately.

  October 30

  I’m sorry I haven’t written in you much, Journal. I’ve been so lazy. My stomach is huge and I don’t get much sleep. Geezer keeps giving me chamomile tea.

  Things have settled down in London. The army has gained control over the people and Mace is feeding them. That seems to have made them happy. He’s offering land to those who want to farm. He’s also giving money to shopkeepers. Geezer didn’t like the way things were going at first, but now he thinks Mace is doing a good job.

  Geezer has a nice face. I look at him while he’s reading. He reminds me of an old picture I saw in one of his books. The man was a painter who painted a picture of himself. The artist’s name was Albrecht Dürer. He lived in Germany in the fifteenth century. The picture was in a book from Earth.

  “Do you paint?” I asked him.