Revelyn: 2nd Chronicles - The Time of the Queen

by Chris Ward

  The White Queen entered the room silently and unseen; she saw the man Rema Bowman standing at the window. She signalled for Germayne to leave her. They were alone. She sat upon a couch and watched this man, the one who had defeated the champion Gravyn and who must surely be better company. Her heart beat hard upon her ribs. She could not quite grasp who this was standing before her, so close. He turned and saw her, but she saw him the more clearly for she was veiled, and glad of it.

  ‘This is impossible,’ she whispered, and gripped the couch with both hands.

  ‘Your majesty.’ Rema spoke the first words which seemed right to him. He looked at the Queen and his brow furrowed a little for she was completely hidden from him. The white elegant gown flowed around her on the couch. The veil was of the finest material but gave no clue to her features, and he could not see her gloved hands grasping the couch. He did not realise her distress.

  They looked at each other for a time.

  ‘Welcome Rema Bowman,’ the queen spoke at last, ‘and well done on your great victory yesterday. I believe Germayne conveyed to you my congratulations.’ Rema smiled. Her voice was most warm and reassuring. He could detect no hint of guile or platitude.

  ‘The one I beat, Gravyn, is a mighty archer,’ he said.

  ‘Indeed came the reply, but his manner is rather bland. I am glad to entertain another.’

  ‘It was by chance that I am here,’ said Rema. He turned and looked about once more taking in the surrounds which so many would give much to say they had seen.

  ‘By chance,’ the queen queried. You did not travel to Ramos to compete?’ Rema shook his head.

  ‘No My Lady, I came to Ramos to see you.’ The two looked at each other.

  Rema did not know the impact of this simple statement. The Queen however felt her heart beat fast once more and pound within her chest. She was bewildered and yet before her was a man who disturbed her like no man had done since....

  ‘...in fact I only found out about the tournament when speaking at the Palace gate. I was inquiring how I might seek an audience with your Highness, but I was turned away. There was no possibility to meet with you I was told. A soldier joked that the only way would be to win the archery tournament, and so I did. Before this I had no knowledge of any archery tournament.’

  ‘You entered so that you might meet me?’ The Queen was incredulous.

  ‘Indeed My Lady. I have travelled from the Highlands to seek your permission to inquire certain things of the Wisden. I believe that these great ones are in your service.’ Once more this information amazed the Queen, not to mention the boldness of the man before her.

  ‘You wish to talk with the Wisden?’

  ‘Yes My Lady, this I do.’ Rema looked at the Queen, frustrated now that he could not see her face and thereby judge her mood. The Queen rose and walked over to one of the large windows and looked out upon the city below. She composed herself, as her mind raced to order her myriad thoughts. Rema stood quietly knowing that the Queen must examine him. He too turned and looked out over Ramos, each at their own window. A silence grew between them which neither found unpleasant. Finally she turned to him and spoke gently.

  ‘I am confused Rema Bowman as to your intentions. It would be greatly helpful if you were to explain to me the reason for your journey and why the Wisden are so important to you...’ She paused and seemed to look long upon him before continuing ‘... and I would be grateful if you were to tell me something of yourself, and where in the Highlands you come from.’ Having set the tone for what was to follow the White Queen walked elegantly back to her couch and having seated herself comfortably indicated to Rema that he was to bring a chair and sit before her. To her surprise he declined.

  ‘I would prefer to stand and perhaps walk a little if this does not cause offence.’

  ‘As you wish,’ the Queen replied, ‘but please enlighten me about your quest.’ Rema took a breath and unknowingly ran two hands through his hair, an action which seemed to heighten the Queen’s interest in him, although he was unaware.

  ‘I grew up in The Safeness, My Lady. I am sure you have heard of this place. I learnt the craft of Bow making from my kindpa who in turn learnt it from his kindpa. We like to think we are the best bow makers in all Revelyn.’ He paused. ‘Indeed we made the bow which Gravyn uses.’ Once more he paused and looked out over Ramos before turning to face the Queen.

  ‘But The Safeness is lost.’

  The Queen put a white-gloved hand to her mouth. ‘Lost!’

  Rema nodded. ‘The volcano on which it was built came to life. It destroyed the whole town. I barely escaped. Many died. My friend Andes and I were on the lake at its centre and it seemed we would die but by some strange fate we were cast aside and able to escape, but nothing remains.’ He let this news impact upon the Queen.

  ‘And then Farview fell from the Highlands. You will know of this My Lady. A whole town gone in an instant.’ At this point the White Queen shook her head sadly.

  ‘It is a disaster which none can fathom. I have had reports. The whole escarpment for a league about the town has come away. There is little in the rubble to indicate it buries a whole town, and Farview was not a small community.’ She sighed as though a pain had pierced her heart.

  ‘It was then I started to wonder what was happening to our land, to Revelyn.’ Rema continued. The Queen nodded but did not speak. ‘I was moved by some deep desire to seek out some answers to these matters for as I escaped a strange package came into my possession seemingly not by chance; as it was to prove?’

  ‘What sort of package?’ the queen asked growing increasingly intrigued. Rema looked directly at the Queen.

  ‘It held a bow and a gown, a key and a book.’ The Queen did not react to this, but continued to wait for Rema to speak. ‘It was the book which spoke of the Wisden, and so I decided to come to Ramos to inquire of them.’ He paused again and let a silence grow between them. The Queen said nothing.

  ‘It was a plan made with little thought, but on the road we met a man who confirmed my intentions, indeed he spoke of things far deeper than I had imagined and advised that I travel here to Ramos and seek of the Queen permission to talk with the Wisden. And this is why I am here.’

  Rema knew he had greatly simplified the journey, but he wanted to give the Queen enough without all the detail which would take much time to explain. And so having given this he came and sat on a comfortable chair a little to the Queen’s right side. He spoke quietly then.

  ‘And so My Lady I seek your permission to inquire of the Wisden certain things which perhaps they might know of the travail of our land.’ He smiled. ‘For me. For my people.’ And now he waited for the Queen’s response, but she sat in silence as though carved from stone. She sat for so long that Rema wondered perhaps he had caused offence. Suddenly the White Queen rose and walked to the windows and stared out; then she paced back and forwards as though deep in thought, which indeed she was.

  This seems so strange she thought. His action, his speech, the way he talks and of what he speaks. It cannot be, and yet it cannot be denied. I see him here before me.

  ‘This man of whom you talk. Who is he and what is it about him that affirmed your plan?’ She spoke at last.

  Rema breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘He called himself El-Arathor, and he showed himself the possessor of great powers which were beyond anything I could understand..,’

  ‘El-Arathor!’ the white Queen exclaimed. ‘You met El-Arathor?’

  Rema nodded. ‘That is what he said we should call him although I thought him to be known by another name.’ At this the Queen paused in her pacing.

  ‘What other name?’ she whispered.

  ‘I called him Mentor. Mentor of Revelyn for I had read of him in the book.’

  At this the Queen almost seemed to faint, and Rema was at her side in an instant but she waved him away and went quickly to her couch, where she sat and breathed deeply as if to overcome some ailment. Rema knew she was gr
eatly agitated.

  ‘My Lady this news seems to bring you some distress?’

  ‘Who wrote this book Rema Bowman, the one of which you speak?’ The White Queen’s words were whispered fiercely, with a quiet but earnest intensity which Rema suddenly understood indicated that some greater knowledge of matters was poised to be revealed.

  Rema chose his words carefully, knowing that his answer was of great importance to the Queen, although he could not understand what this could be.

  ‘My Lady the book was written by a great man of the Highlands. He is my forebear. I am the fifth generation. I bear his name and some say a fair resemblance. He was called Rema Bowman too and I regret that I never met him for he died twenty five summers before my birth...’ Rema dropped his voice to a whisper, for the White Queen was shaking and he knew despite her veil, staring at him. Suddenly she let out a cry which seemed to rent her very body in pain. Germayne appeared in an instant.

  ‘My Lady!’

  ‘Germayne please escort Rema Bowman from this place. Take him to his lodgings. Have him return tomorrow. Make up rooms...I will speak with him then.’ Rema was stunned by the turn of events. He was confused and went to speak but Germayne was at his side and led him from the room. His last glimpse of the Queen was of a white figure standing by the windows shaking head to toe with some deep emotion which had no reason in Rema’s mind. And then the door was shut and Germayne led him quickly through the Palace and to the fort.

  ‘I will meet you at the same hour tomorrow Rema. Please bring your possessions and your friend. I will arrange rooms in the Palace. I feel that My Lady the Queen will want to speak with you further.’ Rema went to speak but Germayne silenced him.

  ‘Not now, Rema I must go to her now. Tomorrow I will speak with you.’ And she was gone. Rema stood in stunned amazement at what had come to pass. He composed himself and walked down the hill to the market which was still in full swing. His path was aimless, moving from stall to stall until once more he found himself at the colourful tent of Gryfnor, the strange magician. The children were clapping and cheering as before whilst the older folk stood back and watched from a distance, as though there was a line beyond which the man’s magic might draw one in too close. Rema looked about hoping he might see the beautiful woman again but there was no sign of her, and all the while his mind was greatly distracted with his meeting with the White Queen. He wondered just what he had said which had so distressed her. Still, he thought, she is not done with me, I have perhaps in some manner mentioned something which brings back a memory.... I do not know...’

  ‘... My friend,’ a voice broke into his ponderings, ‘perhaps I can interest you in something to soothe your very being. I perceive you are troubled.’ Rema looked around with a sudden start and realised that the magician Gryfnor was speaking directly to him. ‘There things are free, well almost free, a Diabule, a magic stone which you can use to bring back those things close to your heart or for which you long.’

  Rema looked at the magician and was entranced by his face and eyes and felt a deep pull to go to him and take the stone, whatever it was. A moment of intensity suddenly existed between them and then it passed and Rema found himself speaking as though from far off.

  ‘I will decline Sira, perhaps another time.’

  ‘These offers are not always to be had my friend,’ came the reply, but Rema shook his head and turned away, noticing as he did so that several of the older folk had begun to enter the tent. His attention was then drawn to another strange figure, a darker taller man standing looking at him from the edge of the crowd. His long flowing gown covered a brooding sombre ugly man, whose angry brow was lined and furrowed as though with many troubles or thoughts of the cruellest nature. Rema thought his eyes to be coldly evil, and deep within his mind he heard words which matched this visage as though some fell conversation was been whispered into the air all around. He felt a shock and then the man was gone, turning in an instant and striding off into the crowd. Rema was convinced that he did not want to be further seen for some reason far beyond his understanding. He shook his head and then realised that all about was quiet, the children gone; the crowd before the magician’s tent dispersed.

  This is a strange place he thought, full of strange people. I do not know who to trust or follow.

  ‘Rema!’ came a call, and there stood Andes. ‘I see you have escaped the royal clutches with your head still on your shoulders. So, have you solved the problems of Revelyn or will we be here a little longer?’ Rema felt a great warmth and reassurance to hear his friend’s voice.

  ‘Well many things remain to be seen Andes, but I do have some good news.’

  ‘And this is?’

  ‘Tomorrow we get better lodgings in the Palace so I am sure you will have a great story to tell Fryn on our return.’

  ‘We are to stay in the palace?’ Andes asked in amazement.

  ‘Indeed, Andes. Now tell me, what have you been doing whilst I have been improving our humble circumstances?’ Rema was surprised in the change which came over his giant friend at this simple question. Andes became all sheepish and said little as though taken off guard.

  ‘Oh I have wondered about, nothing much really. Looked at some cloth for Fryn, and something shiny for her to wear, a brooch; that sort of thing.’

  ‘And what, Andes, did you settle on?’ The sheepish manner remained.

  ‘Well I couldn’t make up my mind.’

  You do not want to tell me where you have been thought Rema suddenly, but did not pursue the matter.

  ‘Will you look at the view,’ Andes called to Rema the following morning. They had met Germayne as instructed at the entrance fort and had been escorted quickly high up into the Palace and shown rooms on the south side overlooking the river. ‘I have never seen a town from so high above...The Safeness doesn’t count, it is nothing like...’ he paused then continued more sombrely, ‘it was nothing like this.’ Rema joined him on the small balcony which stood high above the city and several cubits out from the Palace walls. He looked around and nodded.

  ‘You are right Andes, it is spectacular.’

  ‘You can see the market down there, and the magician’s tent like a rainbow drop.’ Andes pointed out some of the sights, but Rema was distracted and more interested in speaking with the White Queen. He had not slept well, thinking over and over about the strange conversation he had had with her. And his sudden dismissal from her presence seemed to have no reason. As Andes excitedly described the view, he looked and nodded and saw, but only in a fog, until he excused himself and returned into the rooms which Germayne had provided for them. He lay on the bed and looked up to the ceiling wondering how he should approach their next meeting; he did not need to wait long for within a short time Germayne knocked and entered.

  ‘Rema, the Queen will see you now.’ She turned and spoke to Andes who had appeared quickly at her knock, causing Rema to smile for the first time that day. ‘Andes Blomberg,’ she spoke formally, ‘you will accompany me on a short tour of the Palace. You might be interested in the view from higher up.’

  ‘We can go higher?’ Andes asked.

  ‘The view from the top turret on the north wall is well worth the effort and the climb. You are able to climb a little Andes?’ Germayne teased, and Andes could not help but blush as Rema winked at him.

  The White Queen was completely composed. She sat upon her couch and Rema sat close by at her request. He was desperate to do nothing which might agitate her.

  ‘I must apologise for my unseemly behaviour yesterday Rema Bowman,’ she said. ‘I was reminded of things which for a long time I had not wished to face, and I was taken by surprise by your words...’

  ‘My Lady there is no need to apologise, but I admit I have spent much time trying to think what it was that passed between us to cause you such upset. It is I who should apologise.’ He smiled and boldly continued. ‘My first audience with one of such distinction and I am thrown out within a span!’

  The White Q
ueen laughed. ‘You did nothing of which you could possibly be aware, Rema.’ She paused and then added in a whisper. ‘Nothing at all.’ Rema sat in silence and waited for the Queen to speak of what she would. The silence which settled in the room was once more, not unpleasant, and Rema sensed that the Queen was about to reveal some new knowledge.

  ‘You come from the Highlands Rema; you speak of The Safeness. You are an archer, the best in all the land it seems for none has ever beaten Gravyn, or come close. You speak of a book and of the Wisden which it reveals. You speak of another whose name you now bear.’ She paused, then added in a whisper. ‘You speak of El-Arathor,’ and Rema sensed a tremor in her voice. ‘These things coming all at once as they did, touched upon some deep emotion which I had not thought to be so raw.’ Under her veil she smiled gently but Rema saw nothing of this. He frowned, and nodded as if trying to understand.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he said sincerely, ‘but I could of course not know what this might be, and I am greatly perplexed that my presence here in Ramos and these few simple facts have some connection with My Lady.’ The White Queen laughed which once more took Rema by surprise.

  ‘All last night I thought about these matters,’ she replied. ‘I was greatly troubled. Indeed I have been tormented much of late by a dream which I cannot grasp, but now...’ her voice trailed off and she stood and walked to one of the great windows and looked out. Rema watched her and realised that she was exceedingly graceful.

  ‘You must wonder why I wear this veil?’ She said without looking at Rema.

  ‘I am sure I am not alone in this,’ Rema replied. ‘People speak strange things in this regard.’

  ‘...that I am ugly or disfigured by disease, or that there is not one Queen but many...’ she turned and looked at Rema who shrugged.