The Fallen Mender

by R. J. Francis

  “It was your father who imprisoned you and ordered the death of your husband. Surely you suspect that. Surely that’s why you’ve separated yourself from him.”

  “Why would my father betray me?”

  “To earn the trust of the tutor.”

  “Tutor? What tutor?” Eleonora asked.

  “The tutor is the last of an ancient line of mind turners,” said Errol. “He’s a twisted man, capable of twisting others to his purpose. And he has control of your father’s mind.” He paused to hear whether Eleonora would react to this, and when she didn’t, he continued: “When your father was a young man, he frequented the wooded foothills, searching for himself and for his place in this world. There, by a stream below a cliff, he found the ‘wild boy’—the tutor. He befriended the tutor, who was shrewd and manipulative, despite being younger than your father. The tutor exploited your father’s adolescent desires, played on his fears, and turned him against me.”

  “Soon, the tutor moved into the palace, and he and your father spent every day together. My own soldiers, and even my own guards, began turning against me. Several times I fought this juvenile beast. Fought him, and, yes, I even tried to kill him, although he was just a boy. But oh, he is powerful. I thought my mind was strong. It wasn’t strong enough.”

  Errol continued, “One summer, the tutor sent your father to Celmarea, knowing full well the islanders would rebuke him.”

  “You sent my father to Celmarea,” Eleonora said.

  “I didn’t. I even tried to stop him from going, but the tutor hindered me with his wiles.”

  “You sent him there to trade for rare plants. The story is well known. They refused to trade, and we took the island by force.”

  “My dear, the victory at Celmarea had nothing to do with national pride, or rare plants, or anything else you’ve been taught. The tutor used my son and my armed men to exterminate the islanders, who have been his family’s foes for a hundred generations.”

  “His family’s foes?” Eleonora asked.

  “Yes,” said Errol. “Long ago, at the dawn of this age, the Celmareans betrayed the tutor’s ancestor. Since then, a seething hatred of the islanders has been passed down in the tutor’s family from generation to generation.”

  “How did the Celmareans betray the tutor’s ancestor?” Eleonora asked, remaining behind her grandfather, out of his sight.

  “Before this age, my dear, our planet had billions of inhabitants. Their fertility was not limited as ours is today. A few gained immense power over the masses, and used them to build great cities, to produce wealth, and to wage war. Ultimately, most of humanity found themselves under the boots of these powerful few. Wars grew fiercer, and with each new war the threat grew that all life would be extinguished. This brought out of the shadows individuals who knew the secrets of the spirit world, such as how to twist nature and influence thoughts. These individuals, initially out of desperation to save humanity, taught these ancient secrets to others, and even helped to embed powerful attunements into the genetic code of their followers. Some of those ‘gifted’ in this way ended up working for those in power, some fought those in power, and still others tried to escape and go their own way. Those who would become the Celmareans went their own way.”

  Errol went on: “Somehow, the forebears of the Celmareans foresaw the day when the skies would be darkened by human carelessness, and they claimed an island, where they built for themselves an underground stronghold to wait out the disaster. The tutor’s ancestor had loved them, idolized them, and lived among them, but when the day of ash and fire came, would they allow him to share their shelter? No. The Celmareans sealed themselves away, abandoning the tutor’s ancestor to decades of torment. Back on the mainland, the shunned and heartbroken man made a life—a difficult life—among the few remnants of humanity, who were bruised, broken and beset by plague and civil strife. The world healed, but the man’s children, and his children’s children, never forgot the selfishness of the islanders.”

  “How many like the tutor are left now?” Eleonora said.

  “As I said, only he remains. Three of his family were killed recently in the north. They have never grown numerous. From the time of Destus, the tutor’s clan has tried to influence our leaders—to provoke us against the Celmareans—and we have resisted them. But, in this generation, they have finally prevailed. The tutor has used your father’s talents to amass incredible power.”

  “The purple army?”

  “Unseen, unheard…until they set their enemies’ flesh ablaze. The tutor will use this purple army to hunt down the Celmareans and those who protect them. And beyond this, he has even greater ambitions. He wants to get revenge on the world that failed his ancestor. He wants to feel the nations shudder in his grip. With this purple army, he and your father seek to build an empire.”

  “But you said my father is trying to earn the tutor’s trust. Why doesn’t he already have the tutor’s trust? Why does he have to earn it?” Eleonora asked.

  “The tutor knows that as long as you are alive there are things your father will not do. He had your father send you to the pit as a test of his allegiance. And now that you’ve escaped, he’s given your father the ultimate test. He’s ordered your father to kill you.”

  “My father is to kill me?”

  “Yes. And he will. Tonight…unless…he dies before he can carry out his mission.”

  “What are you saying?” Eleonora asked.

  “Unless your father dies first,” Errol said.

  “You sound like you want him to die.”

  “You are the future of Destauria, my dear.”

  “But Radovan is your son!”

  Errol’s voice raised in pitch, becoming creepy. “What do you most desire, Eleonora?”

  “To be rid of this tutor you speak of and his purple army. To reign as I was meant to reign.”

  A wicked smile brightened Errol’s rumpled face. “And so it can be,” he said. “And so it can be. But for you to reign as you were meant to reign, your father must die. And it is you who must kill him.”

  “I must?”

  “Yes. You must kill your father. Rid us of his weakness. The tutor needs someone to lead his army; and if you show him your ambition, the tutor will surely seek an alliance with you. Offer an alliance, for a price: ask for direct command over the purple army. Once he grants you this power, you and I shall betray and kill the tutor.”

  “You want me to kill my father, and then betray and kill the tutor?”

  “It’s not what I want, my dear, but it’s what must be done.”

  She paused for a moment, as if she were giving this mad plan serious thought. “And then I can do as I will?” she asked.

  “Exactly. But my dear Eleonora, you have no idea the might of the purple army. You might think twice about destroying them. At your command, they can deliver you the world. Luxuries from near and far. You’ve lost a husband, but you can take ten from their ranks—the fittest and the finest men in the land.”

  Eleonora was quiet. Her mouth hung slightly open as she thought. Her dark brown eyes, glimmering in the torchlight, would be hard to read even if Errol could see them. “How does my father mean to kill me?” she asked.

  “When he dines with you tonight, he will have your cup of bitters poisoned. I shall call him away, and you need but exchange your cup for his to see that I am telling the truth.”

  She was silent again for a long while, and then she said, “Your plan makes sense to me. I’ll do it.”

  “I knew it!” Errol said. “I’ve watched you, Eleonora. I’ve seen the ambition burning within you.”

  “But I want no direct contact with the tutor. You shall represent my interests.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Give him my offer of alliance, with these conditions: he is to turn over direct command of the purple army to me on the day after my father’s funeral, and he is to instruct the purple army to stand down until then. I do not want a war tainting my day of
sorrow.”

  “Yes, my dear. Of course.”

  “And once my father is laid to rest, and the purple army is mine, you must help me destroy the tutor.”

  “As you wish.”

  “And then you will get out of my way,” she said.

  “I’m not a young man,” said Errol. “My future is a quiet life—east, across the wilderness. The throne will be yours alone.”

  “Very well, grandfather,” she said. She walked him back out into the hall and told her guards: “Release him.”

  When Eleonora rejoined the others, she told them everything. “Sorry, Elaina,” she told her sister. “You can stop practicing the accent. I will dine with Denda tonight.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  That evening, Radovan sat down to dine with Eleonora at one corner of the grand hall’s thirty-six-seat table. Lamp shadows twitched on the walls. Despite the fire crackling away in the great hearth, the air felt cold.

  Both the king and the princess were impeccably attired—Radovan in a new grey suit trimmed with silver, and Eleonora in a golden dress, with her hair half-up, and her fingers, neck and wrists adorned with gold and diamond jewelry. They wore their finest out of true love for each other on this important evening.

  As soon as the pair were seated, a servant brought in rabbit soup, heaps of fresh bread rolls, and a cup for each diner. “Is there anything else, Your Majesty,” the servant asked.

  “That will be all,” said Radovan. “See that we are not disturbed. I will ring for the next course.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The servant backed away, bowed, and exited.

  “I’m so glad you are safe,” Radovan said. He started to reach for Eleonora’s hand, but she immediately grabbed her spoon. “But you should not have come back,” he continued. “I tried to warn you. You should have listened.”

  “I thought you were going mad, father. You should have explained yourself further,” Eleonora said. “Now is your chance.”

  “The truth is, I have gone mad,” he whispered. “And you are wrong to trust me.” He broke a chunk from his bread roll and ate it nervously with a few spoons of soup. Then he drank from his cup.

  “But I do trust you, father,” she whispered. “This is not your doing.”

  “I fear for your life,” Radovan said.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said.

  He sighed. “You sound just like your mother. She made the mistake of trusting me. Why did you return? You had your freedom—you should be far away from here.”

  “This is my home,” Eleonora said, “and you are my family. You are my father, and I love you.” She took a sip from her cup, and only thought about it after she had done it. Thankfully, it wasn’t bitters. It was water. She swallowed.

  “I love you too,” he said, “but they turn my love to hate. Tell me nothing. They will find out. Neither should you ask me anything.”

  “They? Who are they? Your father and the tutor?”

  “My child, you really should leave now. Find your sister, Elaina. The two of you must get as far from here as you can.” She noticed that Radovan’s face was reddening. His voice seemed to be getting higher in pitch with every word. “Don’t waste…another moment.”

  “I have a sister? You never told me this.”

  Eleonora watched an unholy transformation take place in her father. Radovan’s face began quivering and twitching, and his eyes scrunched up in pain as if he were passing a kidney stone. Remaining outwardly calm, Eleonora tried to steel herself for whatever might happen.

  “You have…” Radovan began, and then reached for the next word and missed.

  “A sister?” she asked again.

  “You know! Where is she?” he shouted, leaping to his feet. His chair fell over backward.

  “I, uh…” she set down her spoon. He ran behind her chair, grabbed her hair at the top, and yanked it upward and backward, squeezing the back of her neck against the top of her chair.

  “Shit!” she muttered. He had her neck caught on the top of the chair, and it hurt like fire. She had expected an outburst from him, but not this violence. She scrabbled to get her feet up beneath her on the seat so she could lift herself up. He yanked on her hair harder. In panic, she kicked off the table forcefully, launching herself backward onto him. He fell, but still didn’t let go of her hair, and he whipped her down to the floor with such force she was sure her scalp was going to tear off. She struck him with her elbow under his armpit, and he finally released his grip.

  Eleonora rolled away and got to her feet. Her abdomen throbbed, still sore from childbirth. Radovan stayed there on the cold stone floor, pounding it in frustration with hammer fists.

  Eleonora ran to the table and picked up the king’s little bell, ringing it sharply.

  The servant hurried in with the next course, but when he saw Radovan on the floor he set his tray down and knelt to help his master. “Get off me!” the king barked.

  Radovan got up, righted his toppled chair, and sat back down on it. Eleonora, shaking inside, lifted her own chair back to its position and sat, never taking her eyes off her father. Her scalp stung, tender from the hair-pulling.

  The servant, shaken, retrieved his tray, cleared the still-full soup bowls, and served steaks of rare beef with fresh green onions and a stiff white egg-based topping, thin green beans, and cups of Eleonora’s favorite herbal bitters. He then whispered something in the king’s ear.

  “Excuse me,” Radovan told Eleonora, “I’ll only be a moment.” She was still so stunned she could only stare and nod. He stood, folded his napkin loosely on his chair, and left the room. The servant hurried back to the kitchen.

  With quivering hands, Eleonora reached into her stocking and retrieved the poison bee. After removing its safety cover as Nastasha had instructed, she held the bee over her father’s cup and pressed the plunger, sending clear liquid streaming into her father’s drink. Next, she replaced the bee in its cover and tucked it back into her stocking.

  She looked down at her own cup, well aware that it contained poison as well.

  Radovan was quick to return. “Even now,” he said as he sat back down, “he comes at me with his burning eyes.” He aggressively sliced a chunk off his steak and ate it. “Mmm,” he said. “Delicious. Try some, dear.”

  “I do love you, father,” she told him. “I want to help you.”

  “Eat, eat,” he replied.

  She sawed off a bit of steak and chewed on it, never taking her eyes off her father. She swallowed, and then it was time to drink.

  “A toast,” she said, raising her cup. “To better times to come.”

  Radovan giggled nervously, touched his glass to hers, and then drank deeply. She only pretended to drink. And even so, she could feel the deadly ingredients on her lips as soon as the liquid touched them.

  “Yes,” he said. “Better times. I’m sorry, Eleonora, for so many things. It’s a man’s weakness that allows him to be used by others for their gain. My fault was that I was weak.”

  “You were just a boy,” she said, “innocently exploring the woods. You had no idea what was waiting for you in there.”

  “I feel…dizzy,” he said. “Maybe I should lie down.”

  Eleonora was feeling dizzy too. Her lips were burning and starting to throb. Numbness was creeping up the sides of her face. Her neck tingled. She knew—well, she hoped—that she wasn’t going to die: Nastasha had explained to her all about how Celmareans are resistant to poison…but this potent toxin was making her feel horrible.

  She got up and stood behind Radovan, prepared to catch him when he passed out. “Lay me down, dear,” he said. He slowly fell to the side, and she pulled back the vacant chair beside him so he could fall upon it. Next, she reached down and pulled his legs up onto her chair, so they weren’t hanging awkwardly.

  “Sleep, Denda,” she whispered, “sleep for a while.”

  With tears filling her eyes, Eleonora looked at the poisoned cups on the table and caused their vile conte
nts to rise and combine into a single sphere. With her mind, she guided the sphere into the hearth and watched it vaporize.

  Soon, her grandfather arrived. “You’ve done well,” he said. She tried not to flinch in disgust when he touched her shoulder.

  “I’ll take the body,” she said.

  “Nonsense. He must be preserved tonight. If you are to be cleared of blame for this, my dear, we must follow my plan. You will see him again at the funeral, in three days’ time.”

  “Treat him well,” she told Errol. “Only Elxinase—it was his wish.” Elxinase was an embalming fluid, which Nastasha had promised would not counteract the oxygenating properties of the unique chemical now in her father’s blood.

  “Of course, my dear.”

  “And you will speak to the tutor as we discussed?”

  “I already have. He accepts your conditions, and he is thrilled to have you as an ally.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Eleonora’s islander blood neutralized the poison within minutes. She rested on her bed, with Jaimin, Nastasha, and Elaina standing around her, making sure she recovered fully. Ia made cute noises in her crib.

  “Half the job is done,” said Eleonora. “In three days’ time, at the funeral, Elaina will heal our father, and won’t that be a shock to everyone?”

  “At the funeral? Can’t she get to him now?” Jaimin asked her.

  “We need to make sure the tutor and my grandfather do what I asked,” Eleonora said. “If the purple army does stand down for a few days, it will buy Arra some time to prepare.” She kneaded her cheek with her knuckle to make sure the feeling had returned.

  “What makes you think we can trust your grandfather?” Jaimin asked.

  “Oh, we can’t trust him. And I’m sure half of what he told me was a lie. I have no idea what his true intentions are. Still, he thinks I trust him, and he’s going to make sure the purple army stands down so he can retain my trust and manipulate me for as long as possible. Elaina, for our plan to work you must take my place here until the funeral. I will leave the palace before dawn tomorrow with Nastasha, Jaimin, and Ia.”