The Ones Who Serve

by Jennifer Kenny

  Gretchen silenced her with nothing more than a look. “Your mother?” she asked. She grabbed a nearby lantern and held it up to Evangeline’s face in an effort to see her better. The windows were covered over with dense plant growth, and no natural light had found its way into the home in many years. The heat from the lantern seemed intense on her skin, but Evangeline did not move away. “You are Lady Evangeline, Prince Glais’ new wife?”

  “I am,” Evangeline answered.

  “I am sorry to hear of your mother’s passing,” Gretchen said, removing the lantern from her face and replacing it on the hook where it normally stood. Evangeline and Thomas shared a look. Gretchen seemed so sincere in her condolences. Evangeline wondered if Gretchen had known her mother personally, but the dire situation within the castle had her keeping her curiosity to herself this time. “Does Glais know you are here and why?” Gretchen interrupted Evangeline’s thoughts.

  “He does.” Evangeline was quick to answer. With nothing to lose, she gave Gretchen the story of what was happening at the castle when she left. “As we left, it was revealed that the poison had threaded through the castle in the food. This plant may save dozens of lives.” She tried to plead her case but fell silent after it seemed that Gretchen did not care for her stories.

  The old woman was watching Evangeline closely, studying her frame and making observations that Evangeline was not sure would prove to be in her favour or not. “Your father almost caused the extinction of this plant.” Gretchen was cautious that his daughter might have the same intentions although there was nothing in her aura that spoke of deceit.

  Evangeline shook her head. “I never knew anything about it even existing until Wick struggled with the name.”

  Gretchen did not seem to hear Evangeline’s pleads and went on as if the girl had not spoken at all. “It is a terrible thing to cause such pain to his own lands. The Belltower vine is quite temperamental. I am lucky even to have a small selection of it growing in my yard.” Gretchen clicked her tongue. “I suppose I am luckier still for your father never finding it here. I can only guess he believed, like so many others, that nothing would survive in the Braykith soil.” Gretchen lowered the lantern. “To his credit, barely anything does.”

  “Why would my father try and destroy it?” Evangeline’s curiosity got the better of her.

  “I thought you would have worked that out for yourself.” Gretchen looked to Thomas, but when he offered her nothing in return, she sighed and sat down on the nearby chair. Evangeline looked for another seat, but if there was one, it was lost under the piles of things which surrounded them. “How much do you know of this poison?” Gretchen asked.

  Evangeline blinked, not expecting the question. “Not much. My mother was poisoned, and she died from it. It was sweeping through Crimah, although it seemed that not too many within the manor were affected by it.”

  “Which might have been blind luck, or deliberate.” Gretchen seemed to be making the snarky statement to herself. “You know the signs of the poison, and the tales of your father’s victory?”

  Evangeline nodded. “Benedict had said that it might have been the same poison Barret had used against the surrounding kingdoms to weaken their numbers. We could not be sure though.”

  Gretchen nodded slowly as if urging Evangeline to connect the scenarios in a particular way, although Evangeline was failing to understand their connection. “This Belltower vine is the only cure for this strand of the poison.”

  Evangeline’s eyes widened. “Barret did not want others to have the cure?” She asked, her voice half whispered as she watched Gretchen’s eye colour swim and overlapped each other like a rising sea current. “I suppose that would be one way of controlling who was able to live and die.” Evangeline let out a huffed breath, not sure what to do with this information now. Barrett was dead, and the songs of his legacy would not be swayed by a single girl. It was further proof of the monster Barret had been, and the monstrosity that existed within a human man could rival that of the meanest demons and beasts.

  “So, you will give us the vine?” Thomas asked to bring the old woman back on topic.

  “No.” Gretchen shook her head. Evangeline instantly tried to object, but Gretchen ignored her as she went on. “I will brew you the tea that will need to be given to your friends, but you must listen carefully, for if you do this wrong Lady Evangeline, it will be a far worse pain in your future.”

  Evangeline nodded. “I am listening.”

  Gretchen grinned. “Good, and you will pay.”

  Evangeline looked to Thomas, but he shrugged. “I have no coins on me.” He explained, apologetic.

  Gretchen grinned, and in the stilted light beams, there was a crazed look on her face as she regarded him. “This is a payment of mental health, not wealth.” Gretchen beckoned him closer, and Thomas looked at Evangeline. She did not tell him, no, and so he went to the old woman. Seemingly under his own power, Thomas closed his eyes as Gretchen pressed her palm to his forehead. Humming to herself, Thomas felt a wave of dizziness wash over him before she finally seemed satisfied.

  “What did you do?” Thomas asked. He felt fine, but he knew the nausea was not coincidental.

  “I took my payment. You won’t even miss it.” She sneered before leaving Evangeline and Thomas alone while she brewed the tea.

  ***

  Thomas was carrying a pitcher of dark green water and not daring to spill a drop. He still did not know what Gretchen had done to him, and he did not want to know his sacrifice had been wasted by spilling the hard-earned brew. Evangeline walked behind him with Glais at her side.

  “Can we be certain this will work?” Glais asked, and Evangeline ignored the question.

  She did not like her answer and did not want to pass her self-doubts onto others. She took a steady breath and licked her dry lips before speaking. “Did you prepare them all?” She asked.

  Glais nodded. “I ensured they were all washed down with fresh milk and then left naked in the fields just before the moon is highest in the sky.” When he had read the message from Evangeline detailing what needed to be done with the recently poisoned Braykith men and women, he had believed it to be lost in translation perhaps. He had argued with the messenger, who had no further instruction beyond taking the note to the prince. He may not be comfortable with the details of this ritual, but he could not let men die knowing they could have been saved.

  They walked in silence for a moment, Evangeline lost in her final conversation with Gretchen. She looked at Glais, but when he looked at her, she was quick to look away again.

  “Evangeline, speak to me,” Glais said the words softly, and to his surprise, she nodded.

  “Gretchen warned us that the tea might not work on all of them and that it is quite peculiar on the thing it does do.” Evangeline looked at Thomas’ head, the colour of his hair in the dark night, and found that it calmed her heart. “I wish that it was as simple as feeding them the tea and watching miracles happen, but the way Gretchen described it, it seemed more like a terrible potential massacre.”

  Glais stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Thomas walked on, and Evangeline looked up in her husband face, tears gripping the corner of her lashes. “What is it?” he asked her, prodding for Evangeline to give him the information that she was tightly holding back.

  She wiped her eyes with her hand, sniffling softly before she found her voice. “It is supposed to take the unnatural elements in your blood and drain them away through your pores. If they suffer from other ailments, the tea might do away with that and not the poison.” She did not need to say it because Glais was already thinking it. They started walking again.

  Glais stopped when he came to Wick, seeing her motionless on the ground and defenceless to the elements. He hated to think what the potion might believe to be worthy of taking. Seeing her naked under the bright moonlight revealed the true distortions of her frame. The joints appeared to be knotted under her skin. The pale colouring appeared almost tr
anslucent and stretched to straining point over her ribs and hips.

  Evangeline took his hand swiftly and held onto him hard, seemingly sharing Glais’ thoughts and concerns for Wick. Evangeline had wished many times that the evils that had befallen her had never occurred, but not at the cost of her life. Evangeline paused, seeing Sable lying beside Wick in the grass.

  “We found her unconscious like the others.” Now it was his turn to give her hands a firm grip for support as her eyes lingered on the form. It was unnerving to see the people naked and glistening with milk clutching at their skin like this and although he did not trust Sable, seeing her defenceless did make him hesitate on his judgement. In his heart, Glais could not find Sable blameless, although there was no real proof, and only circumstance, of this, being her doing.

  Evangeline remembered the two bowls that had been found in Wick and Sable’s room. One had only a few mouthfuls missing. The other was half consumed. Evangeline could not guess which bowl had belonged to who since she was ashamed to admit that before this morning, Evangeline had never been to her ladies private rooms. While she was uncertain about much these days, on this, she felt confident. It was clear that the poison did not need to be heavily present before taking effects.

  She thought of her mother, eating and drinking the food set before her without fear of poisons and the eventual death that would claim her. Had she been found like Wick, clinging to consciousness and muttering under her breath after only a single meal? Or had it been slower? She supposed the circumstances were not quite the same. Her mother had been vengeance, and they would have drawn out her demise to hurt Barret. Now the poison was used at its most effective and was meant to create maximum casualties. Silently she withdrew her hands from Glais, and Evangeline carefully moved to stand beside her friend since Glais could tend to Wick during the process.

  Thomas was careful to measure out the exact amount that Gretchen had told them and pour it into the cup that Glais held. Over each naked body, a person was standing by them. Their job was to administer the potion and assist in any way. Gretchen had been vague on what to expect, but it was not going to be a fairy tale moment of fluttering eyelashes and sleepy smiles. Thomas was grateful that he did not have to take part so intimately with this ritual. His concern was for Evangeline, and that was more troubles then he should be distracted with while under such conditions. Evangeline took her place beside Sable, thanking Thomas as he measured out the liquid. “I hope there is enough.” He said.

  “There will be,” Evangeline answered and looked to the tower window as Thomas moved on to portion out the small serving each person needed. Although more had fallen ill then Evangeline had guessed, it seemed that Gretchen had delivered them more than enough. Could Gretchen have known they would need such a volume or was it all just a matter of luck? Evangeline was not confident enough to be swayed by either answer, but nevertheless, Evangeline was glad for the abundance of the solution. She hated to think how would they decide who was worth saving and who they were willing to sacrifice.

  Evangeline had seen personally just how the poison would kill them eventually without this cure. Briefly, she wondered if Barret had considered finding the Belltower vines himself in an attempt to save her mother or was his selfish act too far gone at this point. Knowing a cure for his wife existed, and worse yet believing the plant was now extinct due to his own hand, must have been troubling for Barret to accept. Evangeline felt tears at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away and, in the process, moved on from the imagined horrors of Chrima and resettled in the reality of Braykith’s predicament.

  Shifting to a more comfortable position on her knees beside Sable, Evangeline closed her eyes in a simple prayer that was dedicated to not a single entity bu8t rather the collection of guidance spirits who watched over their lands. She praised each deity and begged them to offer the people of Braykith their sympathies. While the elixir promised salvation, Evangeline also knew there was a genuine possibility that it will kill them should it not work correctly. Evangeline would want every person to have their chance to try.

  She looked down into her cup, turning it slowly first one way then the other and witnessing the liquid follow her gestures without spilling over the decorated lip of its containment. It felt so standard in her hand. Should no one know better, Thomas could have been giving out boiled water with some juiced weeds for colour. Sniffing at the fumes, she felt no difference to her senses, and Evangeline wondered if something so plain could hold the powers Gretchen had warned them about. Even though her thoughts were plagued with her fears, she trusted that the brew would do something. Her father had driven the plant to near extinction out of fear that someone would work out an antidote for his poisons against the Zorelian kingdom. Evangeline repeated the story to herself now and tried to believe the sickly green liquid was such a cure.

  Gretchen’s directions had been both vague and specific. The victims needed to be bathed in fresh milk and then lay naked upon the earth. He did not know what this did, but Gretchen had offered no information, and it had seemed rude to ask at the time. The medicine needed to be administrated at the precise moment when the moon was highest. Evangeline worried they would miss this opportunity. It was a small window of mere minutes where the conditions would be right, and that was the reason for the volunteers to administer the strange brew to their comrades. Evangeline could not do them all herself and Glais had been quick to find people willing to bear witness to what might be a gruesome scene. Although Evangeline struggled with understanding the Braykith way of life at times, and their worship of the immortal King’s who ruled them, this display of companionship brought her to a standstill. She had not seen such comradery in her life, and she hoped it would not be the last time.

  Evangeline looked over at her husband, but he had his back to her. Glais was wholly consumed with caring for Wick, stroking her hair from her face as he cradled her head gently and speaking softly and lowly in such a manner that it seemed almost intimate to witness. She did not know what he said, but it did not matter because the words were not for her. She turned away, embarrassed to see such an intimate moment she had not been invited to.

  The window above them glowed suddenly with lamplight, the signal to feed their brew to their poisoned friends. Opening their mouths with fingers placed firmly on their jaws, the liquid was forced down each person’s throat by the one willing to perform the action. There was no fight in any of them now, even the once most lucid was unconscious, or too weak to fight off their peers. It was nearly silent on the field, and Evangeline was sure she was not alone in holding her breath. Near the back corner, a cry rose out into the evening.

  Evangeline looked up suddenly, but the one scream was soon followed by a series of them erupting all over the camp. Evangeline looked over to Glais to try and see how wick was responding, but shifting by her knees brought her attention to Sable. Evangeline brushed her hand gently against Sable’s chilled cheek.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and Evangeline thought they focused on her for just a moment before Sable’s mouth opened. Her scream erupted into the night and joined the chorus around her. It was not a scream of pain, but something deep and primal which clawed out of the victim’s belly and fell out of their mouths to join the night. Sable’s whole body was curling into itself before flinging back out into the ground. Evangeline looked up panicked, but it seemed that everyone was responding the same. A repetition of screams rose from the field, and Evangeline looked to Wick to see if the potion had deemed her worthy.

  Glais was wrestling with Wick, trying to keep her from hurting herself in this struggle. “Glais stop,” Evangeline shouted over the noise. Glais looked up to the sound of her voice. Evangeline had been shocked that he had heard her at all over the noise within the field. “Stop, just let it happen.” She told him, not sure if her expression or her words got him to release their friend. Evangeline nodded, hoping to encourage him. She feared Glais and his power, and while she knew he meant well, he woul
d not think before using his full strength to keep her down in his desperation.

  The sound of dozens of men crying out was something Evangeline had never witnessed before, but in the dead of night with only fire torches to illuminate the ground, she could imagine that it was moments like this that created and maintained the Braykith myths. The truth was that the castle was attempting to save wounded men who were currently fighting for their lives. A chill was settling into her bones, it felt all too possible for this story to evolve to a midnight mass sacrifice for demon gods and orgies at the command of the court.

  She looked to Glais, wondering if he knew these things that were new discoveries to her. Since she was a child, Evangeline had heard terrible things about the Braykith Kingdom and trained by her Priest to resist the temptations. Little did they know how common Braykith was to insiders. She refused to believe that the rumours were accidental. But she could not be confident who would twist this into a horror story – the citizens or Quintus himself?

  Evangeline shivered, forcing her mind from it all as Sable become silent before her. Evangeline had thought the screaming would haunt her dreams, but the silence was worse. It was harder for Evangeline to be a witness to the stillness. Tension spread out from her chest and claimed the rest of her as she watched Sable. Her friend lay still on the ground with her eyes rolled back in her head, mouth open and a black foam dripping from the side of her lips. Evangeline wanted to wipe the trails away from the corner of her mouth but resisted. Who could be sure what dark magics could be found in this foam?

  The slapping of hands into the earth started around Evangeline, and she watched as Sable joined them after a heartbeat. Sable’s palms had been pressed hard into the ground, the tension was visible and strained as if all the pressure of the world stuck her in place. Suddenly, her fingers flexed, and her hand formed a fist before hitting the ground and falling flat again. Sable’s fingers closed and hit the ground hard as Evangeline jumped back. She wondered just what had the potion done because Sable was acting more like a person possessed than being healed. Had she been foolish to trust a strange woman? Could she have been planted by the rebellion, and now this false cure would finish what the poison had started. It seemed all too likely as dozens of hands hit the soil in a timed beat that was unnatural.