Queen

by Daya Daniels

  Massaging my temples, I rise. “Why can I not see the body?”

  Hamilton’s nose wrinkles. “It is in a very distasteful predicament, Your Highness.” He forces down a cough. “It is black and bloated and covered in leaking postules and buboes. It is most dreadful.”

  “I have seen death before, Hamilton.” I give him a ridiculous look.

  Hamilton shakes his head, forces down another cough. Or, if I am correct, forces himself not to retch and spew up his dinner. “Your Majesty, this is like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

  Gaius, Davide, and Caspar stand at attention with worry sketched across their brows.

  Jean-Baptiste looks terrified.

  Shaw looks anxious to speak.

  Zaccai’s concern is almost palpable.

  What is it that I do not know?

  “Your Majesty.” Hamilton swallows. “As much as we do not want to face it, this is a most urgent matter. We’ve had four more homes in the village where its occupants have come down with the same illness. The knights have set those homes alight with the dead bodies in them. We have advised everyone in the village that if they know someone who suffers with the same affliction that they are not to bury the dead but burn them.”

  “It is only four houses. If they are drinking from the same well then it should not surprise anyone that they have contracted the same illness.” I make a statement, but for me, it is more of a question.

  No one speaks.

  I lift a brow. “Shaw, please enlighten us about this urgent matter…”

  Shaw’s shoulders rise and he clears his throat before he speaks. “Your Majesty, I wish that I could provide you with more clarity regarding the dead man’s illness. But I am afraid, I cannot confirm it just yet.” He stares at the floor for a moment. “I have never come across anything like this before on the English shores…but I can speculate.”

  I pace the chamber.

  “We have sealed the main well in the village, Your Majesty.” Gaius meets my eyes.

  Shaw’s top lip twitches. “I do not think the water source is carrying this, um, uh, disease, Your Majesty.”

  We all share looks of confusion before everyone’s eyes settle back on Shaw.

  “Then, what is it, Shaw? What is this illness?” I grow impatient.

  Shaw lets out a deep breath. “I believe the disease is being carried by rats, Your Majesty.”

  Rats?

  In the last few years, the village has been overrun by rats. And even when we have managed to bring the rodent population under control, in nothing less than a few months there were problems again.

  The mood in this room falls somewhere down to the pits of Hell at Shaw’s words.

  “Rats.” My chin dips down to my chest and I eye Shaw suspiciously, making sure he’s as sane as people claim.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Shaw nods nonstop.

  “A disease carried by rats?” My mouth settles into a firm line.

  “Yes.” Shaw nods, nods, nods.

  With my eyes, I urge Shaw to carry on and speak in the presence of the men who help to control this great country.

  Shaw exhales. “Your Highness, I believe these lands are being affected by what I think we can now call the Plague.”

  Briar

  SHE COULDN’T SEE THEM…

  Vesper can’t see the birds above Raven Forest.

  Alexander can see the birds…

  I can see the birds…

  THIS IS FOR THE FUCKING BIRDS!

  Marching the wide corridors of Berkhamsted Castle, I realize I’ve come up with no answers.

  Only more questions…

  When I make it to a heavy iron gate which I know leads to the tunnels, I pause my gait. The torches which line these stone walls flicker and dust me with light. Reaching out a shaky hand, it lands on the cold metal and stays still for quite a while before I make the decision to push the gate open. I take a tentative footstep and draw in a breath and before I find myself walking.

  What is down there, Your Majesty?

  Our salvation…

  I think back to the conversation I had with Alexander so long ago…

  If you want to know what is down there, Princess Briar, then why don’t you one day go and see for yourself…

  Fear pulses through my veins.

  But still curiosity forces me to march on.

  With each footstep I make, I lose a little bit of light from above.

  I make another and another until the putrid stench hits me and I almost retch right where I stand and lose the turkey stew and rice I’d eaten for dinner. Heaving for breath, I push on, wending through the dark passageways which are now faintly lit only by the moonlight coming in from the grates in the walls high above me. Pausing, I take a moment to regard a foot-high pile of rats. They claw and climb over each other and fight for whatever morsel of food is beneath the lot of them.

  “Oh, just disgusting.” I grab the hem of my dress and push on.

  Another corridor.

  Another passageway.

  I am in the bowels of this castle—a place where most of its residents cannot say they have ever visited.

  With faith, I march on to an uncertain destiny, searching.

  The whispers assault my ears. The voices wilt my spine. The laughter makes my stomach even more queasy. I round a corner and when another rat dashes across my beautiful shoes, I jump and my back hits the wall.

  I remain still, panting, and survey the darkness...

  The constant drip of water.

  The squeak of the rats.

  That presence which I’ve felt before crawling its way into my mind, muddling it and making it dirty.

  It all surrounds me like a questionable cloud.

  Heart pounding and threatening to stop completely, still, I push on, and when I round another corner, I pause. The black mass. It’s there, right in front of me. Unmoving. Hunched over in front of something and swathed in filthy rags.

  My breaths are soft and frantic as I regard the sight ahead.

  Unsure of whether I should bolt or step farther into this eerie chamber, I decide to remain frozen.

  The form moves—heavy, slow, and laborious.

  My brows arch and I skate a little to the left toward the wall and I wait and wait and wait.

  And then it rises to its full height like a phoenix from the ashes.

  I

  almost

  die.

  Alexander

  “THE PLAGUE.” MY MOUTH sets tight.

  “Yes, Your Majesty...” Shaw doesn’t smile. “The Plague.”

  I sigh, and with the gesture of my hand, I encourage him to educate me.

  Shaw sighs. “Your Majesty, over the time I have spent on this vast and wide earth, I’ve spent much time in Asia. I’ve visited the far north and the distant south where it seems like the sun never ceases to shine. I’ve spent months traveling in caravans and on horseback with traders along the Silk Road.”

  I regard Shaw with a bored look. “Please go on…”

  “The fleas, Your Majesty.” He pulls a glass vial from his left pocket and holds it aloft.

  I stride toward him.

  “I believe this disease come from the fleas…On such as this one.”

  With curious eyes, I peer into the vial.

  “The fleas make their home on the black rats—like the ones we have here which find their homes on ships and in the roofs of houses. They are the same rats which often desecrate a farmer’s crops. Aside from being a nuisance, they appear to be harmless. But then, these rats infect the people, Your Majesty.”

  Running a hand over my jaw, I pace. “Is there a cure?”

  Shaw shakes his head slowly. “No, Your Majesty.”

  “Can you develop a cure?” I say the words slowly, hoping.

  “Honestly, I do not know, Your Highness.” Shaw lifts his hands in surrender, still holding the vial containing the lethal flea. �
��These are only my theories, Your Majesty, I do not know if they are true but the research I have done so far propels me to think that I am more accurate than mistaken with my findings.” Shaw steps closer. “The man I examined was infected, yes, but in a much different way than one would expect. The Plague takes three forms—infection of the lungs which would render one breathless until they suffocate entirely. Then, in another form it attacks a person in the armpits where boils erupt and ooze blood and pus. And then lastly, it can attack a person’s body by invading the groin where painful tumors will grow until they burst through the skin.”

  The men groan with disgust.

  “And you have seen this before, Shaw?” I keep my gaze on his.

  Shaw’s worried eyes settle on mine. “Yes, I have seen this Black Death, Your Majesty…” He runs a hand over his forehead. “I have seen many people die in Kyrgyzstan.” He exhales. “I am a man of medicine and research but there was nothing I could do for those poor souls then. I could not develop a cure.” He sucks his teeth. “The situation was utterly hopeless.”

  “I see.” I stride toward the window and peer out at the night sky and the white moon high above which dusts the land with light. “And the man you examined, Shaw…”

  “The dead man I examined, Your Majesty, is much like a body I attempted to treat long ago.”

  “I see.” I fiddle with the petals of a yellow carnation as my thoughts run wild. “Very well then.” I turn toward the men. “Hamilton and Jean-Baptiste...” I run a hand over my hair. “We will need to rid the village of these rats…”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Hamilton steps forward. “We will give the orders.”

  “Good.” I wave a hand around. “Burn them. Drown them. Poison them. Please do whatever it takes...just fucking get rid of them.”

  “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” Jean-Baptiste nods.

  I find a chair, and with a breath, I plop down on it and stretch my legs out.

  “What can we do, Your Majesty?” Gaius stands at attention.

  “You do nothing.” I purse my lips. “I will need you for more than the eradication of rats, Gaius.”

  Gaius smiles. “As you know, Your Majesty, we are willing to do everything to protect England…even from rats.”

  A long chuckle leaves me. “Yes, I am aware, Gaius. I am fully aware of the lengths you will go to protect these lands. And for that I am so very grateful.”

  The three knights offer me a short bow and resume their positions, swords secured safely at their sides and armor glimmering beneath the candlelight which keeps this room lowly lit.

  Hamilton and Jean-Baptiste scurry away to carry out my orders at once.

  “Do you truly require us to do nothing, Your Majesty?” Caspar’s brows knot.

  “Yes, do nothing as far as the rats are concerned…” My eyes fix on the roaring fireplace.

  Caspar grunts.

  “I require your assistance with much more urgent matters…” My expression is one of unease.

  “Whatever you ask, Your Majesty…” Caspar steps forward, expression fierce.

  “Good.” Smiling, I tip my head forward and lift a brow. “Would you happen to know where my mother is?”

  Briar

  A BROAD BACK IS to me.

  The form shrouded in all black shuffles around the chamber. “Not many dare to come down here.” The voice is gravelly, and the words leave what I believe to be an old woman very slowly. “Not many would ever dare to venture into the bowels of this castle.” A little chuckle follows the fun fact.

  A strangled breath leaves me. My hand lands on the damp stone wall and my legs twitch and shake as I debate whether to run. When my gaze swings to the left, I slap a hand over my mouth at the sight of another pile of rats, rotting and dead.

  The old woman laughs. “You are a brave soul, my child, if I ever saw one before.”

  I remain still, watching her as she moves across the room, arranging things with utter glee in the way she wishes. And then my eyes flicker up to the shelves lined with glass bottles which glow red and green and blue.

  “I have been watching you since they brought you here so long ago…”

  “S-s-since I got here?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Watching me?” My eyes struggle to see beneath the darkness.

  “Yes, not in a bad way, my child.” She gestures with a hand casually. “Only in a curious way.”

  My chin dips down to my chest, and although everything deep inside me compels me to leave, to dash through these tunnels at breakneck speed until I find the light again, I stay.

  Proceeding farther into this massive chamber, I examine its contents which are simple.

  A table. A bed. Nothing more.

  And rats.

  Lots of rats.

  A plate of rats…

  This place smells of shit and death.

  I don’t know what I expected to find down here but a living breathing human was not it.

  “Welcome to my humble home.” The woman whirls around to face me.

  At her appearance, my heart lurches in my chest and I slap a hand over my mouth.

  I force myself not to turn away but to dare to face her.

  A corner of her mouth quirks up and she offers me a toothless smile. “Welcome, Princess Briar.”

  With my lips parted, I examine the old woman’s wretched face that is nothing but hanging flesh, sunken dark eyes, and wrinkles galore. A mop of black hair sticks to her skin and crawls down the rest of her until it stops near her waist. She’s fairly large—as wide as two carts—and taking up much of the space she shuffles into when she moves.

  I eye the ancient woman with awe.

  She is timeworn.

  Utterly hideous.

  And unreal.

  She walks slowly toward a corner of the chamber.

  It isn’t until I follow that I hear boiling…

  My eyes narrow.

  It’s coming from a cast iron pot on the floor which is large enough so that six people could fit into it if it were ever necessary. The old woman dumps a few rats into the hot concoction and then, with a groan, reaches for the heavy iron rod near her. With slow movements, the rod finds its way into the pot and patiently she begins to stir.

  The cold draft which rushes through this dark chamber sends the disgusting scent of whatever is boiling in that pot my way. I cover my mouth and nose for a little while before I realize I cannot keep the action up if I intend to breathe, especially if I plan to linger.

  Why am I lingering?

  Why haven’t I run screaming for my dear life just yet?

  The old woman smiles that smile again and tips her head forward. “I do love having company. I don’t get much of it these days. Often, it is just me here, alone.” She giggles.

  I duck when her cryptic laughter bounces off the stone, skitters its way around all four walls of this chamber, and seems to infect me.

  “I like being alone.” She winks. “Now, it took me many, many, many years to decide that. But, it’s the best way to live if you ask me…”

  She lets go of the rod, shuffles across the chamber, and shoves her boney fingers into the pile of rats, taking up a handful of them and then she’s back in front of the pot, tossing the dead creatures in and stirring slowly.

  I retch over and over but still manage to prevent my guts from coming up.

  “I’m Terra.” She smiles. “It is wonderful to finally meet you, Princess Briar.”

  My expression is twisted up as are my insides and I hesitate to speak. “Yes, it’s n-n-nice to meet you too.”

  What am I saying!

  My shoes seem stuck to the stone underfoot.

  I twist around, and twist and twist and twist until I think I have viewed every space of this chamber.

  Meeting the old woman’s eyes, I regard her open-mouthed.

  She giggles. “I’m glad I have made a friend today. I would ask
what brought you here, but I think I already know the answer to that.”

  I remain silent.

  Vesper can’t see the birds above Raven Forest.

  Alexander can see the birds…

  I can see the birds…

  Why are we the only two people who can see the ravens?

  Terra grins and her toothless mouth is nothing but a big black hole when she opens it.

  I inch closer toward her and her steaming pot of rat stew.

  “I won’t hurt you, my child, I promise.” Another laugh.

  I peer into the pot and then my eyes fix back on Terra’s face. “How long have you been down here?” My voice is shaky as I manage to get the words out of my quickly constricting throat.

  She doesn’t look at me, only keeps her head low as she concentrates on the task at hand. “Oh, for many, many, many years, Princess Briar.” She laughs. “I was here before King Alexander was born. I was here before King Hayden was born too. I called this place home lonnnnnnnnnnng before even his father and his father and his father was ever welcomed to this earth.”

  A little gasp leaves me.

  “Impossible?” She arches a wrinkled brow.

  “Yesssss.”

  She tosses an arm up in the air. “Well, how am I here then?”

  “I don’t know.” I suck in more desperately needed air. “W-w-what are you?”

  “Oh, they call me many things.” Gesturing wildly with an arm, she laughs out loud.

  I duck once more when that sound bounces off the stone and crawls its way into my bones. “Are you a prisoner?”

  “No, child. I like it here.” She scans the chamber. “How could I not love this place? It is my home.”

  With my top lip curled up, I examine the space once more and decide that it’s as disgusting as I had already thought. I suppose I am being rude…This woman has allowed me into her home, and I am insulting it.

  “Oh, don’t worry, child, in my many years upon this earth I have learned never to take someone’s uninformed opinions straight to the heart…” Her eyes grow gentle.