by Alan D Jones
grandmother’s name. I want you to say my father’s name. I want you to acknowledge who I am. Your court has known of me for over sixty years, and never, not even once have you reached out to me. You know what my sisters and I went through as kids being hunted, having to move from safe house to safe house. Only, dear Henri, who you cast out, reached out to us. Why haven’t you acknowledged me? Why won’t you even dare to say who I am? Is it because, I am the evidence, the blood that you cannot wash away? Is it because you treasure the ill gotten golden throne on which you sit more than righteousness? Oh, stiff necked king, the abundance you forgo by not reconciling yourself to me.” Deborah pointed her finger at the king.
The king sat silent for a moment and then spoke, “Young lady, I will say two things. First, as king, I don’t answer to anyone. Not to you, not to these surrounding me here or even to your Elders. No one. Secondly, since you are here in my kingdom, I have legal dominion over you. And as such, I’m charging you with espionage and commending you to our prison until such time as your Elders negotiate your release. They have some assets I’d like returned to the kingdom. And yes, I know who your sisters are and what power they possess. But Ruth isn’t going to kill anyone, and she’d have to do so to free you from here. And though your sister, Sarah, or Black Sarah as they call her, could easily kill us all, she won’t make a move unless the Elders authorize her to do so, and they won’t. Even in these times, the Elders value the services we can provide against our common enemies.”
Deborah, knowing full well that her sisters would literally move the Earth and stars above, if need be to rescue her, stood speechless at the apparent ignorance of this “king”. And in that moment she also realized that his real treasure was his pride. Astounded, Deborah shook her head and shivered in anger. As she did the entire Nightwalker underground domain shook and trembled, “So, that’s all you have to say? Don’t you know that with a single word, I could cast this entire kingdom into darkness for a thousand years? Even as you deny who I am, you are quite delusional about what I am. I am not the one you want to hold in your bowels. Better you spit this bitter herb out. Better you face my sister Sarah, that she might make your last moments brief and painless. For, if I be the one to measure your punishment, you will not go easy. No, blessed are you that you cannot carry out your plan to imprison me. You should celebrate this day that death passed you by!” In that moment, the Deborah who stood before the royal court began to fade. “While I was not here to spy on you, I am indeed a spy for those whom you call The Willing. In fact, I’m the best at what I do, thus your silly attempts to hold me are amusing at best. But I leave you with this. I claim all that I am, the good and the bad. All of it.” After Deborah’s final pronouncement, her image faded away completely and her constraints fell to the floor. On the transport Deborah had created a version of herself which she had made visible and allowed to be captured and now returned it to herself, that she might once again be whole and composed of every aspect of her personality.
The room sat in silence for several long moments before one of the attendants called to the king, “Sire, over here on the Tree of Blood.”
The king and his court proceeded to the side wall which documented the royal linage. Once there they looked upon the tree to see three names freshly carved into the cold stone wall. The names were Kendi and Filipe, the names of Deborah’s African grandmother and biological father, respectively. And beneath those names was the name “Deborah.”
Epilogue:
Three weeks later as Deborah sat at a Barcelona café enjoying the last hour of her afternoon siesta, she was joined at her small sidewalk table by a tall, attractive fair skinned blonde headed woman. Deborah looked up puzzled as she recognized the face. It was the face of one of the women in the Nightwalker king’s court. Deborah remembered how this woman had stared at her so.
The woman smiled an easy smile, “Hello, Deborah. I’m your grand aunt, Amanda. Your grandfather, Bento, was my brother and I would ever so love to get to know you.”
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