Into The Maze

by Euan McAllen

  Esmeralda listened like an anxious schoolgirl when Lady Agnes shared her experiences of Prince Mozak. She had spent a lot of time with him but got little of out him. This additional information was welcomed. Lady Agnes listened like a wolf when Esmeralda did likewise about Tascho, though Esmeralda had little to give. Lady Agnes tightened up and listened carefully when Esmeralda gushed forth about both twins. She could tell Esmeralda was totally twisted up in knots about them both. She wanted to both placate her and play her for maximum gain. Esmeralda clutched at straws. Lady Agnes provided plenty.

  Lady Agnes boasted that she was going to marry the prince, be a queen, produce the heir. Seeing cracks appear in Esmeralda’s face she quickly added that she had no choice, that Prince Mozak didn’t even like her. It had been arranged by ‘the powers that be’. Esmeralda was envious: she too wanted to marry, have children, be thought of as a good mother. The two ‘near sisters’ shared their fears and concerns about giving birth; about raising children the right, respectful way; about how to control a husband and cope with in-laws. They almost shivered with cold as they imagined pushing a big baby out between their legs. How much would it hurt? Who would be watching? Who would help? Would they die giving birth? Would the baby die or live? No one had told them yet.

  Lady Agnes asked her new little sister if she was still a virgin. She squeezed Esmeralda’s hand as she waited for a reply, the truth, having put the question bluntly. She simply had to know. Esmeralda replied yes, as if she had failed some important test. Awkwardly she threw the question right back. She too had to know. No secrets. They could have no secrets. Lady Agnes came right out with it.

  ‘No,’ she said proudly.

  Esmeralda almost jumped and asked what it was like. She was desperate to know.

  Fun, said Lady Agnes. Delicious, she said.

  ‘They try to wear you out, break you,’ she said. ‘When all they do is wear themselves out.’

  Esmeralda giggled and sniggered and clutched at her crotch. It was demanding action.

  ‘And find a comfortable position - that’s important, else you might hurt something. And it makes it more fun.’

  Worth it, said Lady Agnes, signing off.

  ‘But if anyone asks I’m a virgin, right?’

  ‘Right,’ promised Esmeralda.

  Esmeralda, exhausted by too much wine and talk, caught sight of a large hairy black spider scurrying across the floor below her. She threw herself into the arms of Lady Agnes - now her best friend beyond any doubt - and held on tight.

  ‘Enormous Spider! Down there!’ She pointed. ‘There!’

  Lady Agnes pushed her off; pushed herself off the bed; marched around to its other side; and chased after the monster until she got the chance to stamp the life out of it. It left quite a mess.

  ‘There, gone. Remind me to have that cleaned up in the morning.’

  Finally, when Esmeralda felt it was safe to blow them out, Lady Agnes blew out the candles. Darkness descended and they faced the blackness together: one totally bold; the other bolder than she had been before. Esmeralda’s hand fell from that of Lady Agnes only when she fell asleep.

  The girls had talked.

  In another part of the castle Ladies Parmina and Tarmina were not happy. They were sulking. They were not enjoying their privileged life. For Lady Tarmina that was in tatters and her sister was consoling her: stroking her hair and rocking her back and forth in her arms. She hated Bizi. She hated him. Lady Parmina hated him. She hated Bizi. He had called her sister a slut!

  ***

  The Dowager Queen was disturbed from a disturbing dream by a familiar but disturbing sound: the sound of the special door being slowly opened. Someone was entering her room from the back passage. No, please, not Bizi! Not this time of night! She wanted to scream with indignation but was too tired. With the light of the moon she could just about make out the figure crossing the room. And it terrified her: it was not Bizi. She knew the outline of Bizi inside out and the way he walked. This was not him. Assassin! The bastard Bizi had sent an assassin to do away with her - her, the mother of his children! She was about to die, unloved; her reputation in tatters; her children torn by conflict. If there was this God why did he do such things to people? Tascho’s God is just another man, she thought. She wanted to scream to save her life but her throat was locked by fear.

  The figure lit a candle. He had a beard. He was an aging peasant. A thief? A murderer? Queen Anneeni wanted to tell him to take whatever he fancied and get out. But words would not form in her dry throat. The figure approached the bed and sat down on the end, as far away from her as possible. That physical act troubled her slightly and she just stared at him, waiting for his next move, trembling. Did he want to steal her body? She grabbed at the nearest thing, her hairbrush, and held it like a lucky charm. She clenched her teeth as she clenched her hairbrush. And then he spoke: soft warm words which were so unexpected, so out of place that Anneeni wondered if perhaps it was a ghost; if perhaps she was still stuck in one of her awful dreams.

  ‘It’s just me, I’m back. You have nothing to fear.’

  ‘Me? Who me?’ Queen Anneeni could not string a sentence together.

  ‘Helmotti.’ As proof he pulled out his royal seal, just long enough for her eyes to widen before hiding it away again down his shirt.

  Queen Anneeni peered into the face and saw another behind the beard which she recognised. It was the face of the king - the dead king, now not dead. The eyes had not changed but the look was more intense and focused completely on her. She pulled her bed sheet and blanket in tight, up to her neck. She wanted to hide. She wanted her mummy (even though her mummy had never wanted her). She began to sweat profusely and soon the sheets were dripping. She expected to die, there and then. She accepted he had every right to kill her. She only wished she could hug her children one last time and tell them not to fight, to stand by each other against the world and against the king in particular. She began to cry like a little girl.

  ‘Please don’t hurt me.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘I don’t know, just don’t. Please.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m not here to harm you. Just want to talk, catch up on things.’

  He sounded so nonchalant, so relaxed, it scared her.

  ‘You’re not dead?’

  ‘No. Obviously.’

  ‘You came back with Mozak?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was asked to. He needed help.’

  For a brief moment Queen Anneeni was eighteen years younger and full of energy - and ambition - with her randy husband sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for an invitation to get into bed with her and make hay. Then he spoke and she was here again, in the here and now, and looking wasted by time.

  ‘You look well,’ he lied.

  She could not find words with which to accept the compliment so she simply nodded.

  ‘You really need not be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you, just see how you are after all this time. It’s been a long time, a very long time. Hasn’t it?’

  ‘A long time,’ she croaked.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she stuttered next.

  ‘Here and there inside the Maze. Here and there.’

  Helmotti looked around the room. Little had changed - Anneeni had changed the most. She had spread out in all directions, like a fungus. He felt sorry for her. They stared at each other: trying to remember, trying to ignore, trying to adjust. He was surprised by how much weight she had gained - like a prize bull. She was surprised by how thin he was - thin and fit compared with his fat and unfit half-brother.

  Slowly Anneeni found herself able to talk, converse. She even found it easier to talk to Helmotti than Bizi, especially as he had made it clear he was not back for revenge but simply to ‘catch up on th
ings’. She remarked upon how slim and fit he looked and Helmotti thanked her. Then she spoiled it by remarking that he no longer had the face of a king but that of a peasant who spends all day outdoors. That made Helmotti slightly annoyed.

  Helmotti wanted to know everything that had happened. He helped himself to some left over wine and cheese, and politely but firmly interrogated her. Just like old times when she had first fallen for him: Queen Anneeni fell under his spell and told him everything he wanted to know. She could not hold back. She had to share it all with someone and Helmotti, her husband, was the best one. It left her exhausted. And as he spoke she noted his every gesture, the change in his voice. The king had changed. Here was a different man and she wanted to know more, and why. But for now that would have to wait for the king only wanted to talk about the twins, Bizi, and the general state of things in his kingdom. ‘His kingdom’, she noted. Helmotti still regarded it as all his.

  They talked about the twins, and the big problem that now had to be resolved. Toss a coin? joked Queen Anneeni. The joke did not go down with Helmotti. (In some things she had not changed, he noted.) They talked about Bizi. Had he been a good king? asked Helmotti. No, replied Anneeni bluntly. Bizi was a disaster. She revealed they barely spoke these days. She revealed she was now a prisoner in her own home. Bizi has his two mistresses and a pig to keep him company! A pig? asked Helmotti. Yes, a pig. His best friend was now a pig. They both agreed that Bizi had gone mad, like his mother Lady Tamatellini. Was she still alive? he asked. Unfortunately yes, replied Anneeni. Locked up in a tower. And was his Chancellor still in charge? Still scheming behind closed doors? Probably, replied Anneeni.

  Meanwhile at the back of her mind the welfare of her children continued to dominate her thoughts. She did not want mad bastard Bizi to be their father. She wanted her husband Helmotti, the true king, to play that role. He was back and better, much better than anything he had been before; and he was the rightful king. She had to take a chance and she had to take it now. Strike while the iron was hot her mother had told her once. So she came right out and said it: that she had lied to Bizi when telling him that the twins were his; to protect them and her from him; and to make matters worse Bizi had now just gone and announced it to all at court. It was a big lie, she said; and apologized profusely, saying she had only wanted to get back at him all those years ago for treating her so badly - and for wanting to murder Tascho. It was what any mother would have done, she pleaded. She looked him in the eye, thinking if he did not attack her now then she was probably safe. Helmotti just sat there, nodding slowly to himself, taking it all in slowly.

  ‘Thank you for telling me.’

  It was all he had to say on the subject, and it was the trigger for him to say one final thing.

  Helmotti said sorry for being such a bastard all those years ago: he was a different man now, he said, a better man. That nearly floored Queen Anneeni but she recovered enough to say that she forgave him - her sense of survival telling her to get back on his right side, for she needed all the friends she could get. And with that Helmotti got up to go - which made her almost get out of bed to try and stop him. Queen Anneeni did not want him to go now. She wanted him to protect her from Bizi. She wanted him to be the father of her children again.

  Almost as an aside Helmotti said goodbye and left, not even saying if he would be back to see her again. Queen Anneeni felt like she had been stood up. She could not go back to sleep now. She just sat up in bed, candle flickering, turning this event and all the talk which went with it over and over inside her head. It drove her crazy. (But it would also help her lose weight.)

  ***

  In the middle of the night King Bizi marched through the castle like a man on a mission; down the passageway towards the special door behind which lived a very special woman: the mother of his children. He stopped suddenly as if he had hit a brick wall. The door was opening and a man was stepping out of the room. Bizi slipped to one side, into an alcove, and managed to hold his breath despite the outrage, the insult. His intention had been to make up, reconcile differences for the good of the children for their children needed all the support they could get in these complicated times. But the miserable cow had taken a lover!

  Bizi counted to help concentrate on his timing and as the intruder walked past he stuck out a foot and tripped the man over, sending him flying. The man knocked himself unconscious.

  ‘Let that be a lesson you scum. No one sleeps with the Queen except me!’

  Using the same foot, Bizi rolled him over on to his back. He stared down at the face of the man who dared to enter the Queen’s bedroom via the King’s entrance - and then it dawned on him that he was looking at the king - no, the ex-king he told himself. The dead ex-king was not dead. He had returned to haunt him, mock him, curse him, perhaps overthrow him. Bizi wanted him dead. Why couldn’t he stay dead?

  ‘Why did you come back! You’re supposed to be dead!’ He spoke the words quietly though he really wanted to scream them out loud.

  He could kill the man here and now but for the fact that they were brothers. He could not kill his brother, not even his half-brother. No, he would have to lock him up instead. Lock him up and throw away the key. Let him go mad like his mother. Deal with him later. For now deal with the Queen. She had overstepped the mark - severely! Plotting with the ex-king! He should have her beheaded! (But then the kids would not talk to him.) Conspiracy. There was conspiracy afoot. But who was in on it? It had to be more than the Queen. She was too stupid to do this alone. There had to be others. He had to watch, everyone. He could trust no one (except his pig). Was Mozak in on this? No, surely not. He would have no idea what Helmotti looked like. And Helmotti had aged, severely. This haggard, worn out face was no face of a king. No, Mozak was innocent, but even so he would have to keep an eye on him. He had always been a difficult child, so much different from sweet, assuming Tascho. Let Tascho be king - yes that would be fair punishment for Mozak. Bizi summoned his guards. With strict instructions they bound the body and bundled it away in secret - but not before Bizi ripped the royal seal from the body and stuffed it into a pocket. The Royal Seal belonged to the king!

  Satisfied, for now, he turned his attention towards his other problem: his scheming, sinful, double-crossing queen. He crashed into her bedroom and was not surprised to see her fully awake and propped up in bed. He pointed at her with an accusing finger and found her guilty of betrayal and treason before she could even open her mouth, not that she needed to speak. Words could not save her. She was as guilty as hell.

  ‘I came here tonight hoping for reconciliation, for the good of the boys. They need us united, like a proper family. And instead I find you plotting to bring me down!’

  ‘I didn’t ask him to come here tonight. He just appeared, out of the blue!’

  ‘Shut up woman and listen! I have him. You will never see him again. You are alone again. All you have is me.’

  Queen Anneeni turned as white as a sheet.

  ‘You will speak to no one of this.’

  She plucked up the courage to respond, determined to fight back. ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or you’ll never see your children again. Understand?’

  Queen Anneeni understood. She had to see her children.

  ‘I understand,’ she whimpered.

  ‘Good.’

  With that Bizi looked around the room one last time to remind himself of what he had been missing then left, missing none of it, having none of it. Queen Anneeni watched him go, now thinking she was a prisoner for life, just like his mother.

  Don’t go crazy, she told herself. Your boys need you.

  ***

  In the days leading up to the banquet they became known as the gang of four: the two princes and their two ladies. Possibly two mistresses, joked some. One each or shared? joked others. Tascho was given his own room and when Mozak saw its size he was not h
appy. He went running to the king - the man he had to accept as his father - to complain that it was bigger than his. Bizi laughed away the complaint and sent him packing. Yes, being a father had its moments.

  At the first opportunity, Mozak had his hair cut, reducing the visible difference between him and Tascho. They joked they could fool anyone over who was who when in reality they could fool no one: they were clearly different animals. They tested their theory only once, swapping clothes at midday, fooling no one and feeling stupid.

  During this time, relations between the twins, if not perfect, did at least stabilised. They shared a common malaise: their parents, who in their eyes were both guilty of despicable behaviour and low morals, and they were the living proof of it. The Dowager Queen was regarded by populace as a slut, or a joke, or both. On one occasion two boys, the sons of nobles, dared to say it to their faces so the twins attacked - Mozak leading the way - and gave them a thorough beating. Afterwards, over beer, they replayed the event again and again to extract maximum juice. Add to that the issue of the succession and their parents had reduced the royal family to farce and fiasco.

  It was impossible for them to exchange true, deep-seated anger or hatred for it had dawned on each of them that they could only rely on each other; that they only had each other to turn to. But hanging over them was the succession: one of them would have to be king one day; and the other, he would have to leave? Back into the Maze? Perhaps best to not get too friendly. It could turn nasty, very nasty. In the meantime they had to live with each other, and act like princes were expected to act (as the king kept reminding them despite not setting an example).

  Outbursts came and went and meant nothing: like a rainy day in summer; like a sunny day in winter; like one bad harvest in the life of a farmer. Some things pulled them together: like defending their mother against their father. Some things pulled them apart: specifically the future and Esmeralda. And always the girls swarmed around them; sometimes like flies; sometimes to delight.