Broken Earth

by C M Blackwood

  XXXVI: An Unwelcome Surprise

  After that very busy and worrisome day – wherein the Princess was certain that an attack on the castle was imminent, and Heidi was concerned enough as it was with ensuring that Jade was, really and truly, well – a great number of days passed, with little to no event worth mentioning besides the growing fear of Princess Lila, which was beginning to resemble something of a mania. Indeed, if she was not called down by her colleagues, she was hardly seen at all, and was confined to her chamber for such periods that it could have signified nothing but a temporary (that is, most hopefully not permanent) illness of the mind.

  If anyone could have seen the way she walked to and fro, and tore at her hair with both hands, they would surely have made her come out of her isolation. But, as they naturally did not see any such things, they let her well alone; as well as Thomas Henry, who had not left his own room since the day Lila locked him in. (Of course, they knew nothing at all about the locking, either.) Lila cut a small hole in the bottom of his door, and pushed meals under it herself so that he would not starve to death. The meals were only left outside the door (to be carried away by Lila as quickly as she noticed), and there was never a sound to ever be heard from inside the room.

  What with all this, in addition to the fear of attack which had become deeply instilled within her, to resemble something of a constant throbbing inside her brain, it was no wonder that she felt she was losing her mind!

  And then there was the condition of her mother, which was simply the very last thing she could endure. She went to her every day, and sat with her, no matter if she was awake or asleep. It seemed that she was withering away before her very eyes, almost as if in response to the slow disintegration of her own faculties.

  The most important question was: In what way could she possibly keep from losing everything? The absence of an answer to that question, that question which she could no longer pretend to ignore, was what seemed the final log on the fire, before the entire structure conceded to collapse into the surrounding flames before her very eyes.

  It was like waiting for a blow to fall. The tension in the castle, even among those who should not have been troubled by the precursors to such things, was palpable, and was in fact getting quickly to the point where it seemed it might burst. But no one spoke of it, and tried only to go about their business as they knew they must, and to imagine that the silence signified actual peace. The wiser folk knew, however, that it was only the calm before the storm.

  An incident which happened to occur, a considerable space of time after Princess Lila first saw the prophesying eye before her, was something of a distraction to the small party at Eredor who were perhaps most affected by the goings-on of the world around them. For most of them, this distraction was almost a pleasant thing; for it enabled them to forget, for a short while, those things that had seemed till then impossible to banish from their thoughts.

  For one member of that party, however, the incident was (as you have been warned) a most unwelcome surprise.

  After ruminating for some time upon having been struck bereft of companionship, due mainly to Heidi’s constant worry over Jade’s apparently, momentarily stable condition (the particulars of which Dera had been enlightened of, and which she did not find, after all they had already witnessed, very shocking), Dera eventually complained to them both that she was tired of being treated as though she were nonexistent. She did not mention it, but during this time she was inconceivably lonely for Josephine, and made nearly mad with the grief of the knowledge that she would be lonely for her forever.

  Jade, who had been rendered extremely emotional by her recent ordeal, burst into tears at the very idea of Dera feeling so alone, and embraced her quite tightly enough to suffocate anything that would have been even slightly smaller than the woman whom she did wrap in such a heartfelt apology.

  Heidi and Dera only nodded to each other. Any of the closeness that had been forged as they journeyed together towards Eredor seemed to have disappeared, and they found that they could no longer converse with each other very meaningfully. It was as though whatever bridge had been propped betwixt them had been felled; and that, with only the consistent stream of bad news which flowed over it each day, there was nothing at all they could use to set it aright. As they watched it lie broken and beaten upon the ground that separated them, there was a dull pain that started up in the bottoms of their hearts; but what with everything else that seemed to be going wrong, there seemed never any time to quantify it properly.

  But even with all of that (or perhaps because of all of that) the three women took to spending the majority of their days together. In the fog of uncertainty that hovered in the air, they held tightly to each other, in hopes that they would not lose one another when the fog thickened.

  It was when things had fallen into this state of quietude and disarray, of silence and disorder, that the aforementioned incident occurred. Oh, what a day it was! Even with the hint of approaching war that hung in the air, the battles of that day were significant enough to brand themselves into the memories of all who witnessed them, like the scalding tip of an iron poker into innocent and unsuspecting flesh.

  ~

  It was early morning, and all who could manage it were sleeping soundly, the familiar and tedious events of the day before them (made all the heavier by the subtle taste of death, not yet realised, that sat upon their tongues) as yet unthought of.

  It was Francis Solomon who came to Lila’s chamber, and knocked with a heavy hand upon the door. Truth be told, he was very nervous to be knocking at all; for the look that seemed to shine in the Princess’ eye nowadays, was one to be feared rather than scoffed at. Solomon had shared this sentiment with those men who had made it a pastime to insult the authority of the Princess, and to question her abilities.

  “You shall be sorry,” he said to them. “One day soon you will wish that you could take back these evil things you’ve said, and recant all of this disloyalty. But you shall be sorry, for it will be too late.”

  And then, of course, they only laughed at him. But he cared not.

  “Princess?” he called now, knocking more loudly upon the door. “Princess, I must speak with you.”

  “What is it?” cried Lila, her weak voice muffled even further by the blanket that covered her face.

  “I must speak with you, Princess!”

  Lila turned her face against the pillow. “Go and see Harn Fala. I have given him control in my stead.”

  “But it concerns your guests! Commander Fala knows nothing of them, and nothing of these visitors.”

  Lila lifted her head. “Visitors?”

  “Yes, Princess! Come, won’t you? They are waiting at the gate!”

  Lila got reluctantly to her feet, cursing beneath her breath all the while as she dressed for an exit from her chamber. Indeed, why must all of these people keep coming to her gates? Confound them! What was she running, a blasted charity-house? She certainly thought not!

  Issuing out into the corridor, to a smile from Francis Solomon which she smothered with a heavy glare, she turned directly for the staircase, and descended only to the fourth floor.

  “Wait for me here,” she said. “I shall return momentarily.” But when she began to move away, she thought of a thing which was painfully obvious, and added, “What are the names of the visitors?”

  He thought for a moment. “A man and a woman, there were. The man’s name

  was . . . David? David Masters, I believe.”

  “David Misaria?”

  “Oh, yes! That’s the one.”

  “And the woman?”

  “I don’t believe she gave her name.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s good enough. Just wait here.”

  Solomon nodded patiently; though she did not see him do it (and had truly, thus far, given the man hardly a reason to go on with any good will he felt for her; so she should have supposed herself lucky, had she thought of it at all, that Francis Solomon was the s
ort of man whose good will could not be retracted quite so easily). But she only turned away from him, and struck off down the hall, walking with all due leisure to the bloodstained door which was her destination.

  “Surely someone can mop up this infernal mess by now,” she muttered, laying her fist to the door several times.

  It took some moments for anyone to answer her summons. When the door finally did open, she was somewhat surprised at the presentment of the face of Jade Misaria. But surely, why not? She frowned, and ground the heel of her boot into the stone floor.

  “I wish to speak to Miss Bastian,” she said. “Bring her here, will you?”

  The red-haired woman looked back towards the bed. “I’m afraid she is sound asleep,” she said. “She was awake most of the night, and only just dropped off. Do you think it might wait?”

  “I think not,” said Lila. “It must be now.”

  “Might you only tell me what is the matter?”

  Realising then that these were the first of the words she had ever exchanged with Jade Misaria, Lila came quickly to another realisation – and it was (premature as it seemed, and most likely only the cause of an already sullied temper) that she did not like the woman.

  “There are two people at my gate,” she said shortly, “and one of them is either your husband, your brother, or your father. I don’t know who the woman is; and someone must tell me before I let her into my castle.”

  Jade seemed not to hear the latter constituent of her statement. She only said, “As I do not have a husband, and my father surely could not manage the journey from home, it could be only one – though I sincerely hope, for my dear brother’s own sake, that he has not come to mix himself up in this hopeless situation.”

  “That is neither here nor there. There is a man at the gate, and I cannot simply leave him there.”

  “What name did he give?”

  “David.”

  The mixture of joy and sorrow that entered her face, then, was almost enough to move even Lila’s much-hardened heart. She smiled; and then she frowned; and then it seemed she might cry.

  “That makes one accounted for,” said Lila. “But what woman would he be travelling with?”

  “None that I could name.”

  “Has he no wife?”

  “No.”

  Lila sighed, and said, “Then you must come with me to meet them. This woman must be named; and your brother’s identity must be confirmed, anyway, before I let him in. So make haste! Rouse Miss Bastian, and let us go out to your visitors.”

  “Give us just a moment,” said Jade, closing the door against her.

  When finally the two women came down to the place where Lila stood with Solomon, Jade was looking, strangely enough, quite well and lively; but Heidi seemed very tired and ill indeed. Lila said nothing of it, and only ventured to ask:

  “Is there any chance that Miss Black will know who this woman is, if neither of you do?”

  “That would be very unlikely,” answered Jade.

  “Very well, then. Let us depart.”

  And so they made their way from the castle, the combination of their paces and faces making them look a very strange procession indeed. All of their horses were awaiting them in the darkness of early morning, just outside the North Doors; and so they mounted, and rode off towards the gate.

  When they arrived at it, Jade leaped down straightaway, and rushed forth to clasp the hands of the man (who had rushed forth just as quickly) through the bars of the gate. But the woman who sat atop a horse behind the man, had remained seated upon viewing those who had come out to her; as had Heidi Bastian, upon seeing those who waited outside the gate. It seemed, though, that they eyes of the woman were fixed upon Heidi, and that Heidi’s eyes were fixed upon her. No words were spoken; and so the nature of the look that passed betwixt them was utterly mysterious.

  “I assume that this, then, is indeed your own brother,” said Lila to Jade. “But who is the other?”

  The woman upon the horse said nothing at this, nothing at all that might improve her position as being unidentified. David Misaria was so busy at the gate, leaning his forehead against his sister’s and speaking quickly to her, that he said nothing of her, either.

  Finally, though, the brother and sister separated a little from one another. The man stepped back to his horse, and Jade inclined her head so that she might view the woman beside him a little more clearly. She looked long at the woman, and then turned to look at Heidi; and an expression of surprised recognition entered her face.

  “Do you know this woman, Miss Bastian?” asked Lila.

  Heidi said nothing.

  “Miss Bastian.”

  “I know her,” she said finally. “I know her well enough.”

  “Do excuse me – but from the look on your face, I cannot tell whether she is a friend or an enemy.”

  “Nor can I,” replied Heidi. “I can only say that she is my sister.”

  Lila only shook her head wearily, and motioned to Solomon. “Just open the gate,” she said.

  He and the guards did as she bid, and fastened the gate tight behind the man and woman as they rode through. After that, Solomon nodded to the Princess, and rode off on other business; and Lila was left beside the gate with four very silent people.

  “As I do not particularly care,” said Lila, “I will not ask after the reason for all this strangeness. I will simply leave you all to yourselves; and you can do with one other what you like.”

  With that, she rode off towards the North Doors. Jade and David sat beside one another on their horses, while Heidi and Helena kept some distance apart. Heidi glared hard at her sister; while that recipient of her frigid gaze kept her eyes turned towards the ground.

  ~

  After a time, all four of those individuals somehow made it back to the castle. On the way, David and Jade rode a little ahead of the others, talking and laughing quite as gaily as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening (or had been happening) at all. Even if David did not know the whys and wherefores of the situation, thought Heidi to herself, he certainly should have been a little less pleased than this! But that joyousness that fell down upon both siblings, whenever they were together, was unshakable; and Heidi could only look on with a misery that equalled their joy, doing all she could to keep her own sister out of her eyes.

  When they arrived at the North Doors, they found a couple of stableboys awaiting them. Brother and sister jumped down to the ground, and nodded to the young men as they took their horses from them. Helena got down, as well (albeit more slowly), and in a moment both Buck and Wingspeed, along with the nameless horse who was to be their companion, were rounded up between the two sandy-haired fellows.

  Heidi saw that they waited still for Eriah; but perhaps because she was unwilling to stand down in that place where her sister stood, or perhaps just because she was enjoying looking down upon her from that high place, she would not give up her horse. She looked to the stableboys, who were watching her in confusion; and then looked to Jade and her brother, who were both still engaged in raucous bouts of speech, song and laughter. She was resentful of their merriment, and resentful of the fact that Jade’s attention was fixed upon David, when Heidi was so plainly unhappy only a few feet away. Her resentment was even greater, though, in respect to Helena, who was looking at her almost sadly, as though she had not expected her to be so unkind.

  She saw all this, and the awfulness of it was magnified tenfold by the red-hot ire what pulsed through her heart. So she settled only for fixing everyone with an expression of contempt, as she got begrudgingly down from her horse.

  The doors opened unto them, and awaiting them there was the small figure of Rilga. As she motioned for them to enter, Heidi looked wistfully towards Eriah, who was being led away by the stableboys.

  David, who was expressing a strong desire for viands, followed after Rilga. Helena looked back at Heidi, but seemed frightened by her, and so turned to follow in David’s wake.

&
nbsp; Jade hung back, and came to stand near Heidi at the bottom of the steps. She said nothing, but laid a hand upon her arm that was obviously meant to comfort.

  “Won’t you come in?” she asked.

  “I would rather not.”

  Jade stood silent for a moment, looking all around at the muddy grounds. The snow had begun to melt again, and the earth was filled with large pools of water, expanding across the dead heaps of grass like the sinking places of a swamp. The mildness of the day did not suit the chill of Heidi’s stubborn gaze; and so the air of early February was cast back into its natural temperament.

  Without another word, Jade turned back to the stairs. She had reached the door, and was about to step inside, when she looked back at Heidi. Heidi held her gaze for a long moment, for she was having considerable difficulty moving past her own obstinacy; but finally she mounted the steps, and followed Jade into the castle.

  Rilga stood waiting for them outside the servants’ dining room. “You can join your friends for breakfast,” she said, pointing into the room.

  Jade, whose stomach Heidi had heard growling as they stood below the steps, went directly into the dining room. Heidi thought of accompanying her; and would have, if she had not seen Helena’s face, seeking her out from her place at the table. So instead she walked past, and ascended alone to her chamber.

  She was sickened by the sight of her own blood upon the door. She tore the letter from the nail, crumpled it up and stuffed it into her pocket, and then journeyed back to the ground floor, where she beckoned to Rilga. The woman came speedily; and Heidi requested, as politely as she was able despite her own poor temperament, a bucket of warm suds.