by Gill James
Maniella
‘So what happened to you then?’ asked Christina.
‘It was very simple,’ said Maniella. ‘I rode here on Sandstorm. He helped me to find the camp. Then I sent him home to Philaderan, and I knew he would bring him back here.’
‘But how come they haven’t caught you?’ asked Christina.
‘Because I have been very careful,’ said Maniella. ‘I am so small, I can hide anywhere. And I can listen to what people are saying.’ She switched off the lantern.
It immediately went dark again. Christina felt ashamed. This little girl had been so brave and clever and all she could do was feel sorry for herself. She was glad the younger girl couldn’t see her.
‘But have you had anything to eat?’ asked Christina. ‘Have you managed to get any sleep?
‘Oh yes,’ said Maniella. ‘It’s easy. I just steal when I need to and I’ve slept for a few hours under the flap of the General’s tent.’
‘The General?’ asked Christina.
‘Yes, he’s the one in charge of the Riders,’ replied Maniella. ‘His tent is so well guarded that no one would think of looking there.’
‘But how did you get in?’ asked Christina.
‘I’ve told you,’ said Maniella. ‘I am very careful.’ She giggled. ‘And I am very clever. I can make myself invisible. And of course, it is easy because I am so small.’
‘Well, what about Imigriana?’ asked Christina. ‘Do you know where she is?’
‘Oh, just two tents away,’ said Maniella. ‘In a tent just like this one. They are looking after her very well.’ She giggled again. ‘They don’t know which of you is the real princess.’
Christina was wide awake now. Her heart was racing. At least Imigriana was safe. But how were they going to get out of this? Suddenly she knew that she was going to have to do something. Maniella had been too daring, taking such huge risks, stealing food, stealing lanterns, sleeping right under the nose of the chief Rider. They just could not wait until help came. Maniella was going to get them into real trouble soon. It was a wonder that she hadn’t already.
‘Do you know anything about what they want from the king and queen?’ she asked Maniella.
‘Oh yes,’ replied Maniella. ‘They want the return of Pandora’s Chalice.’
‘Of what?’ shrieked Christina.
‘Pandora’s Chalice,’ replied Maniella. ‘That’s the other name for the Queen’s Chalice. Pandora was the queen they made it for, in the Northern Territories.’
‘Why do they want it back?’ asked Christina. ‘Doesn’t it belong to the royal family, whoever they happen to be at the time?’
‘But there used to be two kingdoms,’ Maniella explained. ‘Pandora was the last queen of the Northern Territories and she was married to Prince Joakinon of the Southern Kingdom and then Ixeria became one. They want the chalice back. Queen Pandora had left it with them as insurance against poverty. They need it now. It was stolen from them.’
‘They’re poor?’ asked Christina. Poor, and they’d got all of this? These lovely tents. The beautiful clothes. The mounds of food.
‘They have nothing apart from that. There has been a famine in their land for over five years,’ replied Maniella. ‘This is their last chance.’
A memory started forming itself in Christina’s mind. It was strange. It came from a time before she first came to Ixeria. Now she knew what she was running from when she found Mona’s shop. It wasn’t the guards. She had known all about the chalice. And she had stolen it back – from – she wasn’t sure, but she knew it was someone she knew. But this had all been going on while she had actually been living her ordinary life as Christina Grant. So how had she managed that?
Maybe that life was the dream and this life on Ixeria was the real one? But she still couldn’t remember much from before. She strained her mind to think. What had happened before she started running? No, it was no good it was all a blur.
It didn’t make sense. Queen Benelov would never have gone against the wishes of one her ancestors, would she? Why would she have kept the chalice anyway?
‘I’m sure Queen Benelov will give the chalice back as soon as she realises that she wasn’t supposed to have it in the first place,’ said Maniella. ‘Then we can all go home and there can be a double wedding for you and Philaderan and Imigriana and Leonis, and you and I shall become sisters.’
Then the horror sank in. Christina had the chalice still. Queen Benelov would not be able to return it even if she wanted to. She fumbled for her bag and then felt inside for the problem cup. It was still there, thank God.
‘Put the lantern on,’ she whispered to Maniella.
‘It’s dangerous,’ replied Maniella.
‘I don’t think it’s going to matter anymore,’ replied Christina.
The lantern flickered on. As the tent flooded with light, Christina pulled the chalice from out of her bag.
‘Is this it?’ said Christina. ‘Is this Pandora’s Chalice?’
Chapter Twenty-three
The Chalice
‘I think it is,’ said Maniella. The younger girl’s eyes were round. ‘It is even more beautiful that I would have thought.’ She stretched out her hand to touch it, and the pulled it back as if the chalice was very hot.
‘But how have you got it, Christina?’ she asked.
I wish I knew, thought Christina.
‘I was trying to get it back to the people from the Northern Territories,’ said Christina. She was sure that was it. But why couldn’t she remember all the fifteen years before? All that nonsense she had told Mona about this crazy world with trams and motorbikes and girls who were allowed to choose their husbands themselves. She must have had a knock on the head, or something like that. A fit perhaps? And the rubbish she’d told Imigriana, too. If only she could remember properly. Then, how had she made Leonis’s electric dragon work better? The strange dream must have told her how to do it.
Maniella’s mouth was wide open.
‘I must talk to them,’ Christina said. Then she remembered. She couldn’t speak a word of their language.
‘Look,’ she said to Maniella. ‘I think I really did lose my memory. Or had a bad seizure or something. But I think that’s where I really came from, The Northern Territories. Trouble is, I can’t remember a word of their language. They’ll never believe me.’
‘I think they will just be glad to get the chalice back,’ said Maniella. ‘They’re not cruel. And anyway, I can speak Northern. I’ll talk.’
‘Well, I suppose we’d better get their attention,’ said Christina. ‘We’d better shout.’
Maniella understood at once. Both of them started to scream as loud as they could. Seconds later, three servant girls and four guards rushed into their tent. The men averted their eyes as the servants quickly helped Christina on with her veil.
Slowly and carefully, Christina then held up the chalice to the guards. The servant girls gasped. The guards started talking excitedly amongst themselves. Maniella began to speak. She jabbered away, and if any of the adults there tried to interrupt, she would hold her hand in the air, her index finger pointing upwards, a sign that everyone should be silent, and then when everyone was quiet again, she would continue.
When she stopped eventually, she took the chalice off Christina, held it high in the air, shouted loudly and then handed it to one of the guards. He took the chalice and carefully tucked it under his arm. Then he and the other guards took her and Maniella by the arm and marched them out of the tent. His grip was not too hard and Christina had the impression that he was guiding her rather than forcing her.
‘What did you tell them?’ she whispered to Maniella.
‘That you’re from the Northern Territories. That you saw a spy steal the chalice and you chased him. I explained how you were knocked out and that your memory is only just coming back. And that you are the daughter of a very noble family and they must find your family at once, and let the Princess Imigriana go straight away al
so. I also told them how Philaderan wishes to marry you and they must find the family to give consent. That, of course will also help them to become rich again. I assured them that we are sure that Queen Benelov will give them much more than just the safe return of the cup – she will be so glad that her daughter has been treated well. So, everything can work out fine, and the two kingdoms can be reunited again.’
‘Maniella!’ cried Christina. ‘You’re pushing them too much.’ Christina slipped on the sand. The guard tightened his grip. But he wasn’t being unkind. He mumbled something at her. She didn’t understand every word, but she could make out, ‘Take care’. Something else was struggling to come back into her mind now. Then she found that she was understanding more and more of the words around her.
They were shown into another tent. It was much larger and even more luxurious than the one she had been kept in.
So much for poverty, she thought.
‘That’s the General,’ whispered Maniella, in Southern Ixerian.
‘You will speak only the tongue of the Northern Territories,’ boomed the General.
‘He says he wants us to only speak Northern Ixeria,’ said Maniella.
‘I know,’ said Christina, surprised at first that Maniella had just more or less repeated his words. The look of surprise on Maniella’s face made her realise what had happened.
I understood what he said, thought Christina. I actually understood him.
Another memory slipped into place. It was of another palace, but not as luxurious as the one Imigriana lived in. It was covered in dust, sand from the desert. Servants constantly sweeping it away, but it kept coming back. The memory faded.
The General was staring at her.
Oh no, thought Christina. This is it. This is where I really do get my hand chopped off.
But then she saw something else in the General’s eyes. She wasn’t quite sure what it was.
‘Remove your veil,’ he commanded.
Chapter Twenty-four
Lydia
The guards and the other men in the tent looked to the ground. Christina carefully removed her veil.
‘Come here, let me look at you,’ commanded the General.
Christina glanced at Maniella. What was going to happen to them? Maniella smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Christina felt as if her feet were the huge roots of some gigantic tree. She just couldn’t move.
‘Please, Christina, come here,’ he said.
He knows my name, thought Christina, well nothing too unusual in that. Perhaps even people in the Northern Territories had heard about the strange twin who had turned up at the palace. But no, she could not kid herself, something in her voice told her that he knew her personally.
She found she could move after all. Slowly, she made her way towards him. There was something familiar about the tanned face, the thick black eyebrows and the dark brown eyes. In a way, if it wasn’t for the sun tan and the elegant headdress, he would look a bit like her father, Mr Grant.
Stop it, she told herself. That world does not exist. It must have been a real hard blow to the head to make me dream that lot.
She felt as if she were floating. She knew this man somehow and he knew her. When would he give her a clue? She knelt down in front of him. She knew that was the right thing to do.
‘Why did you go away Christina?’ he asked. ‘And how do you come to have the chalice? We didn’t mean you to steal it back.’
Another memory flooded in. A woman. A tall woman, sneaking around the jewel room. A woman with a sour face. She knew that face. Lydia!
And then she knew exactly what had happened. Lydia had told her, when Christina caught her there. Queen Benelov had a similar chalice, which was a fake. Lydia thought the Queen should have the real one. As if she needed it.
So Christina had chased her, and fought with her, got the chalice back, but then there’d been a bump on the head and she’d blacked out. When she came to, she was covered in vomit and still holding the chalice. Lydia must have already taken the fake one from the palace collection because it was the royal guards who then started chasing her.
No tram stop. No motorcar. Whatever those might be. And she must have imagined those strange clothes, too. Perhaps she’d even imagined Mona. She didn’t have much contact with her now and she hardly ever even thought about her.
Christina looked up at the General.
‘Christina?’ he said softly. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’
How could she tell him all of this? It was still confused about it all herself. In time, he would understand. He was a kind man, really, her Uncle Samsit. He’d looked after so well after her parents and brother had been killed in that horrible riding accident and they’d become so close when Aunt Geranilla had died giving birth to her cousin Achmid. Achmid? Where was he? Had they brought him on this journey? Or worse, had he died of starvation?
‘Where’s Achmid, uncle?’ she asked.
‘He is fine,’ replied her uncle. ‘We have left him at home. He is so loved by our people that they have given generously so that he will not starve.’
‘It was the queen’s lady-in-waiting, Lydia, who stole the chalice,’ said Christina. ‘She thought the queen should have the real one.’
A scream came from outside the tent. Someone rushed in – the tall bony figure with the unmistakeable sour face – Lydia!
‘You will not have treasure, which rightly belongs to Her Highness,’ she snarled. ‘You are scum. No wonder Pandora left. She had an eye for quality. The sooner you all die out the better. Bring her! Bring her now!’
A man came into the tent. Christina recognised him as the one who had stopped them earlier. Imigriana was with him.
‘Now then,’ screeched Lydia. ‘One of these girls is an impostor. We’ll soon get Her Majesty here to tell us which it is. The false one has been a traitor to Her Majesty.’
‘Madam, my niece is no traitor,’ the General said. ‘Now that we have our princess back we would like to negotiate with Queen Benelov about the two halves of the kingdom working better together. I shall send out White Riders to show that we come in peace and mean the Queen of Ixeria no harm. The chalice is not the real problem, though it will be useful to us to be able to guarantee our money to passing merchants again.’
‘No way will you scum ever work with our true royals,’ screamed Lydia. ‘Simeon, show them we mean business.’
Simenon pulled a gun from under his robe. Maniella screamed and rushed over to Christina, burying her face inside the older girl’s clothes. Christina put an arm round offering what comfort she could though she was trembling inside herself.
They’re mad, both of them. Utterly mad, she thought.
The General looked calmly at Lydia and Simenon.
‘Put the gun away,’ he said quietly. ‘There is chance yet for peace in Ixeria.’
There was a noise outside of shouting and horses. Simenon jumped and turned round. The gun went off and Lydia fell to the ground. When Simenon saw what he had done, he dropped the gun. Christina didn’t hesitate. She picked up one of the heavy vases from near the entrance to the tent. It was hard to lift, but she did manage and she cracked it neatly over Simenon’s head. He groaned and fell unconscious to the floor.
There was a flurry of activity, and suddenly there were strong arms around her.
‘Christina, thank God,’ said Philaderan, pulling her towards him. She didn’t bother trying to put her veil back. She just allowed her body to relax completely into his. He was dirty and covered in sweat, but he felt like security.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Imigriana in Leonis’s arms and behind them, Queen Benelov and King Tutoralph. The queen looked pale and tired, but she was smiling and shaking hands with the General. Maniella who had been so scared just a few minutes before and who had obviously been terrified when Simenon let the gun go off, was now skipping merrily around all of them.
Chapter Twenty-five
Switch-Off
The
doctor was looking serious. Mr and Mrs Grant were holding hands. Paul stood with his arms folded across his chest.
‘It’s only the machines that are keeping her alive,’ said the doctor. ‘We’re afraid that the tests show that there is no brain activity. There is probably not even any motor activity going on independently. She is in what we call a consistent vegetative state. It is highly unlikely if we switch off the machines that she would continue to breathe on her own.’
‘We understand,’ said Mr Grant.
‘Of course, it has to be the family’s decision,’ said the doctor.
‘And Jan’s,’ said Paul. He was frowning and he sounded cross.
‘If that’s what you wish,’ said the young doctor.
‘We do,’ replied Mr Grant. ‘And the organ donation. That can go ahead?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ replied the doctor. ‘Well, I’ll leave you all to discuss it. You can press the buzzer when you’ve made up your minds or if you have any more questions.’
‘It’s what she would want,’ said Mrs Grant, after the doctor had gone.
Jan couldn’t speak. They couldn’t do this. She was there somewhere. He knew she was. They mustn’t give up on her. The doctors could be wrong, couldn’t they?
‘Do you really think we should?’ asked Paul He caught Jan’s eye.
Thank God, thought Jan. Someone else is on her side.
‘We can take our time,’ said Mr Grant. ‘I don’t think they’re trying to push us out.’
‘Though I expect they could do with the bed,’ said Mrs Grant.
How can you think like that? thought Jan. Oh and they can have her heart and her lungs, and her kidney and her liver. Pity they can’t do brain transplants. Hey, then I might get my Christina back. Probably put her brain in the body of some ancient crone. I could be her toy boy instead of being too old for her.
Then he felt ashamed for thinking that way as he saw Mrs Grant sink into the chair and start sobbing.
‘She’s not there anymore,’ she managed to say between sobs. ‘My Christina is not there anymore.’