by S E Turner
'She's got food poisoning,' said the ship's Bosun. 'We've already lost the captain and half the crew.'
'What?' shrieked Cornelius .
'Half the ship is dead.'
'How on earth...?' Cornelius was more than shocked.
'Did you eat anything on the island, Master Cornelius?' the Boson continued.
'No, I didn't.'
'Neither did the galley boys or I. We are the only ones that are free of the sickness.'
'What are you saying?' asked Cornelius warily.
'I'm saying that it was something consumed on the island that made everyone ill.'
'Surely not.'
The Bosun nodded his head and raised his brows.
'Did you eat anything on the island, Gya? It's important that you tell us,' Cornelius was at her side.
Her thumb and forefinger indicated a small amount and she mouthed the words fish.
'Just as I thought,' surmised the Bosun. 'I'm rarely wrong in these matters.'
'Did they know it was off, do you think?' asked a disbelieving Cornelius.
The Bosun shrugged, 'I don't know. But we are the fortunate ones.'
'Will she be all right?'
'Well, put it this way. She's lucky that we are docking today. Without treatment, she would probably die like the others.'
'It's that bad?'
'Yes, it is, Cornelius. It's very serious. Once she is back safely, you must get a doctor to see her at once.'
'I will do and thank you for your help. '
The Bosun left, and Cornelius went back up on the deck to see where exactly they were. He knew he was approaching home when he saw the silvery hue of sunlight hugging the palace towers in the distance. He craned to see the bustling city and hear the market sellers crying in their fever pitched voices. He was to be disappointed. As the sea kissed the shore, the palace got swallowed up behind a jostle of buildings, and the city of Ataxata looked very different now. His heart was pounding with fearful anticipation.
Down below him, Gya just about managed to put on her clothes. She struggled into her brown breeches and breathlessly donned a green tunic while her tanned leather jerkin had so many studs and buckles it was ridiculous. With shaking hands and fumbling fingers she managed to pull them in extra tightly. She had lost so much weight on the journey home, she wasn't aware how thin she had become. Sitting upright on the side of the bed, waiting for the ship to anchor, took its toll as well, and she broke into a sweat as the room started to spin.
'I am going to die,' she thought to herself. 'I have brought Cornelius back home safely, but now my life is at an end.' She reclined back on the bed and waited for Cornelius to come and get her.
She awoke to the sound of him coming into the room. The deck was moving under her, and she thought they were still sailing. 'For a moment, I thought we were back in Ataxata,' she murmured to him .
'We are, Gya. We are home.'
'Why are we still sailing, then?'
'We are not sailing, we have docked. Come on, let's get you off this ship.'
Gya clung on to Cornelius as they shuffled down the ramp. She had never felt so frail in all her life.
The port was now full of the remaining crewmen, sea merchants, and animals. Those that had survived the journey were now facing another peril for all were to learn that Ataxata was not the thriving place it once was. Now, most of these people were lost souls with absolutely nowhere to go.
Their driver was waiting for them beside his trap. Gya had got word to the port several months beforehand that they would be requiring transport to the palace. Excellent forward thinking, she thought to herself again, as she clambered meekly into the back of the carriage. The driver covered her with a blanket and helped Cornelius onto the seat at the front. As the rickety trap trundled along the cobbled street, Cornelius looked back at his friend being thrown about like a sack of potatoes, and then to the driver who was yelling foul-mouthed expletives to anyone and anything that got in his way. The trap continued fighting its way through the dockside throngs, but the horse was getting more skittish with a growing frenzy of people, vehicles, and beasts. The driver was becoming even more irritated, and his language fouler by the minute.
'Top speed, man,' Cornelius said, eager to escape. ' Find me a doctor when we get home, and you will be rewarded handsomely for your trouble.'
The trap master tipped his hat and made haste to the palace. But it was a shocking journey.
Inside the city walls, they rode past crumbling guildhalls with empty markets and stagnant dirty bathhouses. Fountains that once gurgled and sang in the centres of wide squares were now tortured with dryness. And places where old men sat at stone tables moving chess pieces and supping ale together were now derelict and void of human existence. All the statues were disfigured, ornate lanterns remained unlit, and occasionally a gentle breeze would roll in a tumble of debris. They passed torn and tattered street advertisements flapping in the wind, hanging like grey tangled beards. The painted frescos of boys fighting had been scratched away and left to rot. Whole porticos that had been ablaze with life-size murals of young adult males had been ripped apart and all that was left was the skeletal frame of ghosts long gone. Sculptures, figurines, lamps, glasses, engravings, prints and paintings were all abandoned in neglected gutters and left for winter to dispose of at her will.
'What's happened here, driver?' asked Cornelius in astonishment and disbelief.
'It's since the malady a year ago, sir.'
'What malady are you talking about, man?'
'Dreadful business the malady, t'was that what killed your father, Master Cornelius.'
'What do you mean?'
'The gods didn't like it, did they? 'im killin' all 'em boys; all 'at death, all 'at fightin'. T'was what the gods did as punishment. You mark my words.'
Cornelius was still eyeing the surroundings as upturned wagons and abandoned carts littered the road. Weeds had grown over the vehicles and looters had taken what they could.
'That's how I got this, Master Cornelius. T'was abandoned, t'was left to rot, jus' like the res' of this place.' He shook the reins and the horse trotted faster.
They continued to make their way out of the gloom and moved into the staggeringly rich and opulent area. This was more like it, Cornelius thought. This is still the same, of course it is. The coachman didn't know what he was talking about. For building after building was bigger and more impressive than the previous one, and Cornelius smiled to see the rich and beautiful colours once again. He beamed when he saw every house they passed was tinged in pink and clad in more gold then the preceding one. He remembered this—this was the sight he had carried in his mind for all these years. But his face soon dropped, for this time, there were no peeping fingers of the summer's creeping jasmine, or the remains of honeysuckle vines entwined round magnificent heralding fountains. This time, triffids had been left to strangle the life out of the delicate stems. Shackled and tormented, the ivy had bled them dry. Dead leaves and discarded petals had withered away to a brown mush that congealed the weathered pavements, for this time there was no errand boy to clear it away.
And where were the women who wore fine dresses that skimmed the gleaming pavements as they walked, and the portly over indulged men swishing their long ponytails? Where had they all gone? He looked at the coachman who shrugged his shoulders and yelled out another obscenity to the horse to get through the carnage that bit quicker.
Their journey continued, eventually turning in to the wide entrance of the walled palace. The colossal marble statue had been removed—a crumbling stump was all that was left. Cornelius craned his neck to see if he could work out which bit it was. He couldn't. As they turned into the palace grounds, a more familiar sight greeted them. Freshly painted walls could be seen. A clear driveway free from moss and lichens unravelled before them like a luxurious carpet. The windows shone and glistened from a washed exterior, and the sweet aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted through the bricks, while the pungent smel
l of jasmine, honeysuckle and climbing roses was like nectar to the soul.
The trap came to a stop by the stables and Macus was the first one on the scene.
'Where's everyone else?' asked Cornelius in dismay.
'It is just me and a light skeleton staff been keeping the place running, my lord.'
'So, the disease affected everyone in the palace? '
'Yes, my lord, killed nearly everyone. A few guards and cooks survived, but not many.'
A groan from the trap temporarily halted their discussion.
'Master Cornelius, is everything all right?'
'My friend is unwell, Macus. Please give me a hand.'
Gya's fringe blocked her vision, and her head dropped as the two men supported her. Weak legs were unsteady, and her fever had broken now.
'We have to get her inside quickly,' said a troubled Cornelius.
'I shall go an' get the doctor.' The driver cracked a whip onto the resting horse.
'Please make haste, this is life and death, now,' Cornelius shouted after him.
'What happened, Master Cornelius?' asked Macus in total shock.
'She has food poisoning.'
'I will help you get her up the stairs, and then I will get a fresh jug of water for you.'
Gya was in and out of consciousness as she was led up the grand carved staircase and along the corridor.
'I think she should be put in this room, since it is the most recently decorated one,' said Macus, urgently. 'Will you be all right while I get some refreshments for you?'
'Yes, we will, thank you Macus.'
Gya looked ahead at the magnificent arched window framed with pale blue curtains that matched the colour of the deep pile carpet. To her left was a huge bed complete with a canopy on posts and blue and yellow damask silk covers. Opposite the bed was a dressing table and large ornate gilt-edged mirror. A beautifully carved mahogany chair slid nicely under the vanity unit. Along the same wall stood a chaise longue covered in identical dusty blue and yellow material. Beside the door was a magnificent wardrobe on one side and a chest of drawers on the other.
Cornelius pulled off her boots and stockings and she scrunched her toes into the warm wool that peeped through them and separated each appendage as her feet devoured it. She smiled with the touch. He then helped her out of her leather jerkin and tunic but left on her shirt and undergarments.
'I need a bath,' she croaked.
'Not just yet, the doctor will see you first.'
'But I stink, Cornelius.'
'A couple more hours won't matter. Once the doctor has been, I will find a maid to give you a bed bath.'
'All right,' she groaned, and crawled under the sheets.
'Macus will be here soon with some refreshments for you.'
'Stay with me, Cornelius. Just for a while.'
'Just for a while then.' He removed his jacket and sat on the chaise longue adjacent to the bed.
Macus knocked on the door and brought in a tray of hot tea, a jug of water, and some fresh ham rolls.
'Water for Gya, but I will have the tea,' instructed Cornelius .
Macus poured a cup of tea for the master and a glass of water for Gya. She sat up against the plump pillows and sipped slowly on the pure crystal nectar.
'Please, Macus, sit with us while we wait for the doctor to arrive and tell me what has been happening in my absence.'
'Goodness, Master Cornelius, where do I start?'
'How about the beginning.'
Macus pulled the vanity chair out, gripped his cap in his hands, and slowly began his story. 'Well, the General used to go off periodically, as you no doubt remember, Master Cornelius. But now we know why.'
'And why is that?' asked Cornelius devouring a soft ham roll.
'To look for the Seal of Kings, my lord.'
'Remind me what that is?' Cornelius chased an escaped crumb round the side of his mouth.
'The Seal of Kings my lord, a very important piece of the realm, according to the General's literature.'
'Yes, I remember its importance now.' Cornelius looked at Gya.
'So, how did you come across this vital information?' he continued.
'The guards have seen maps and documents in the General's apartment, alongside lists of names of castles, villages and tribes to target.'
Cornelius harrumphed. 'So, you have been rummaging about the General's personal belongings?'
'No, it wasn't like that, my lord. We needed to find if there was a next of kin to report his death to. '
Cornelius harrumphed again. 'I understand… and are the maps and details still there.'
'Yes, they are, my lord.'
'Good, I will look at them presently, but please carry on with your story.' He crossed his legs, one over the other, and pressed his back into the padded support of the chaise longue.
Macus poured himself a glass of water, knocked it back in one go, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and carried on. 'So, three years after you left, it seems the General found the Seal. The documents ended with an attack on Castle Dru in Durundal with all occupants pronounced dead.'
'I can imagine,' said Cornelius, his voice waned. He saw that Gya had her eyes closed now, but he knew she was listening.
'But I forget myself, apologies my lord. I can remember the marshals coming to the palace two years after you left.'
'And what did they want?'
'They were looking for the Marquis de Beauchamp. It seems he was a murderer and a fugitive.'
'Really, whom did he kill?' Cornelius tried his best to look as shocked and surprised as he could.
'He murdered the real Marquis de Beauchamp, stole everything from him, literally everything, including his name, and sought refuge in the palace.' Macus tried to play down his excitement.
'Well, it doesn't surprise me,' said Cornelius looking at the pallid pallor of Gya.
Macus looked shocked at his answer. 'Please, my lord, if I may be so bold, where is the Marquis' imposter now?'
'He got into all sorts of gambling problems and fights with sailors. We parted company long ago. To be honest, I don't know where he is, Macus. I really don't have any idea. I had to rescue my friend here from his clutches a few years ago.'
Macus looked at Gya and she tried to smile at him. 'I would never have guessed it, he seemed such a nice young man.' He smiled back at her.
'People are never really quite what they seem, are they?' Cornelius sipped on his tea and shot a look at Gya out of the corner of his eye.
'I suppose not.' Macus looked to the ground.
'So, what happened after that?'
'Well it seems that the General and the Emperor thought that the imposter had come to kill them both. They had been told by the marshals that he was a tribal boy. So, when the marshals left, they put together a plan. Not just any plan, believe me. This was a truly vile plan.'
Two faces looked at him opened mouthed.
He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. 'So the following year, after they got the Seal, they rounded up a selection of clan boys as a punishment, brought them back here, and made them fight to the death. Out there, in front of the dignitaries and the rich folk of Ataxata. You can see the arena and the dormitory from here.' He jutted his head towards the spectacle.
Gya choked on her water. 'What? '
'I know… it was bad, really bad. We have been through some really despicable times here. One time, the General got a peasant girl as his plaything, but she escaped from her room. As a punishment and a warning, the General got in a huge cage—bigger than anything I have seen before—put her whole family, plus her guards and her maid inside, and set light to it. We were made to watch so no one would ever cross him again.' He looked to the window as if he could still hear the screams, still smell the burning flesh, still see the black coiled smoke. 'It was dreadful. My poor mother has never fully recovered.'
Cornelius winced and Gya looked even more sickened.
'The following year, they round
ed up about twenty clan boys to fight to the death, but this time it was different.'
'How was it different?' enquired Cornelius, pensively captivated now.
'Because they retaliated.'
'How?' his morbid curiosity wanted to know.
'The General acquired a new girl. Her name was Skyrah. We heard him screaming her name when he realised she had gone. But this clan girl was clever, she was so very clever. She was put in this room, actually. I hope you don't mind being put here, ma'am, but after she escaped, the General trashed it, so we put it back to how it was.' He looked around. 'I think we've done a good job.'
'Of course, I don't mind Macus,' said Gya quickly. 'But tell me how she did it. '
'Oh, yes,' Macus was preening with his knowledge now. 'She poisoned them, all of them. On the third day of the games, she managed to get out of the room and pass round her lethal concoctions to the unsuspecting guests. It was amazing, really.'
'How on earth did she do that?' asked Gya.
'She got her maid to bring her deadly plants over the course of several months. Of course, the maid didn't know they were poisonous. She had been told they were for artistic purposes. But Skyrah didn't want to paint them. She ground them down to a pulp and fermented them to a liquid. She then killed the maid and took her clothes to get the deadly liquid round to everyone.'
Cornelius frowned distrustfully. 'How do you know all of this?'
'The court physician, Meric. He conducted the search to find out how it had happened. He was the one who informed us through his enquiries.'
'So how many did she kill?' asked Gya.
'She killed the Teacher, the Emperor, most of the guards, most of the gentry. You have seen the empty streets—that was her doing. She wiped out most of Ataxata. People were scared. They thought it was a malady. So, they all left.'
'And the captive boys?' asked Cornelius.
'They took the horses to get away. All those from the stables, anyway.'
'So, they escaped too?'
'Yes, she saved them, she saved them all. All but two that had perished in the games. I was in the stable when she came in. She wanted the horses to get away. She was very beautiful, and I believed her when she said it was a curse. But we soon found out the truth.'
