PART EIGHT: (Cont'd)
Generational Garbage (Like mother like daughter):
Ethia could not believe what she had just heard, as she felt her heart threatening to sink. Decades of stuffed emotions now began to surge upwards and right out of her chest, like the sickening and bitter regurgitation of stomach bile. Yes as cold and as devious as it was, her heart i.e. This was an unexpected and powerful jolt indeed. A move that could only had been made by a much superior mastermind. It was not that she never entertained the fact that a day such as this or the likes of it might come, it was the strange and unimaginable way that it did come. The problem with a life founded on and filled with manipulations, lies and deceptions. Was that one had to constantly weave just another crooked plot, to cover and protect the previous ones. It was a vicious and sadistic cycle that would never end.
Ethia was an only child growing up, as far as her mother was concerned. She never saw, knew nor heard about her father. Infact the only time there was any reference made about him, was when her mother told her he had left because he did not want anything to do with her. Then came the constant inference that all men were liars and therefore should always be lied to. It was an unavoidable childhood mantra. "You trap them, get what you want and if you got it going on like that, (ie drop dead gorgeous). You move to the next. And if you don't, just set another trap...." The trail of men that would then walk through the little house where she and her mother lived, would serve to her as proof that all men were indeed depraved. They came for her mother and they wanted her too. Unbeknownst to Ethia, her mother had initiated herself into a very bloody cult when she was pregnant with her. She had performed rites that her offsprings had to identify with and bear for generations. It would be the case, regardless of if she were dead or alive.
Her mother had tapped into unverifiable and devious sources, because she was livid and felt betrayed at a failed plan. Finally, she had wanted to keep this child and the man she believed was responsible also. But the man in question balked and bolted. Said he was not the only man involved. Besides, they both had agreed to have a grand time he further explained. He could not understand why she suddenly turned everything into a serious affair. It would have been nice he felt, if she had consulted him when she changed her mind about the fun part. Well that became the making of a very angry and bitter woman. That was obviously something he never foresaw along with the peril that would later unfold. Her plans to rein the man in, howbeit as a pliable vegetable fizzled out unsuccessfully. Though he did suffer some, it turned out he had a mother on the other side of the tracks who fought back like a bulldog.
As time went on, mother and daughter made an occupation from something that was a cross between sorcery and witchcraft. Their thirst for doom was insatiable. They would go ahead and form a 'sisterhood' whose main objective was to destroy men or women. Or just about anyone who had something they wanted. The disgruntled, dissatisfied, disappointed and devastated would find their way to them. And thus grew an epidemic of generic and gender wars. They cast, cursed and swirled around their own spells as they hounded those that would be susceptible to their wiles. Though mother and daughter really did not get along nor even like each other, they often united to eliminate perceived threats and/or envied targets. The unfortunate and unavoidable squalour combined with an often recited rejection story surrounding Ethia's childhood was inexhaustible. She would later vow to always aim high with the men she would traipse with and eventually destroy. Merchants, land owners, healers and even palace magistrates. Her pick was as vision enticing as it was pocket enriching.
It was during one of her secret trips to the palace servant quarters, where she was often hidden by her magistrate lover. That she saw the king taking a stroll one afternoon. The young royal was flanked by his men and the father of his then intended bride. His father the king had died abruptly about two months earlier, from a head injury incurred when he accidentally fell of his riding horse. The young prince then had to take the throne immediately and was to be married just as quickly. He felt thankful, that he already had such intentions towards his future bride before tragedy struck by way of losing his father. His soon to be father-in-law could not agree more.
The clash of an astral agenda:
When the usual signal call came through for Bronid to get up and go meet with 'shiny shoes', he grappled with himself. A vicious tug between a seen and an unseen world. Soul and body struggled, as he vehemently resisted the urge to rise unconsciously. He would fight 'this' he resolved with every little strength or hope he had left. He would revolt, even if it might cause his very life to eventually ebb out of him. They had already destroyed his life, now they wanted his family too. The allowance of an inch had encroached to the demand of a yard. A little dilly dally was claiming to want a life time of play. The knowledge that he had unwittingly or maybe wittingly endangered the lives of the ones he loved and wanted to protect, would be a force of fortification to fix this mess. Their jarring innocence and vulnerability would definitely egg him on. As he rolled and writhed in the agony of an unauthorized seperation, his wife woke-up next to him and began to nudge his cold but sweating body.
The truth shall set us free:
The queen looked from her husband's worn and tired face to her son's forlorn and dejected countenance and thought; If they were not the king and prince, she would have been sure they were being evicted from the palace. But now she knew the source of the sorrow that oozed out of them and permeated the whole room. She was heart broken also and shocked as to how such a barbaric act could take place here in her home. A gruesome murder in the palace? Dear Debeh, her beloved maid and friend. Gone forever in a horrific and dishonorable way. She wished her husband had told her earlier, she might have been more watchful with all the staff and guests that milled around her. Could it be the perpetrator or perpetrators had garnered enough time to either cover their tracks and/or leave. And if they were still in their midst.....
She felt very faint and nauseous at the moment. Infact what she really needed was to lie down and have a good cry. But she would not let her husband on to that. Although they would not understand it, she had to be as strong for them now as they had tried to be for her. She wondered how dear sweet Reinah would handle this horrible news. She and Debeh had been so close. Her husband was saying something now...... "I just think it strange though, that we cannot find her family or someone to tell us where to look." The king shook his head now held in his hands.
"That is kind of strange indeed." Supplied the queen agreeably. "Debeh knew many and was loved by all. That would be of course, aside from the brute or brutes that took her life. And to think that she was well on her way to getting better....."
"Did she ever express fear or let on that there was a reason for her to be concerned about anything or anyone?" The king's tone was hopeful as he looked at his wife.
"Not at all my dear." Said the queen with sad confidence as she remembered the selfless woman. "She would not have given me any more reason to be stressed, just like you would not. She loved us like family." Tears began to stream down the queens face, as the prince walked over to where she was seating and held her. They both began to cry as the king looked on brows creased and heart heavy.
"Oh! But wait a minute!" Shouted the queen suddenly as her son stepped backwards with a start. The king was on his feet in seconds, causing his robe to catch on the bedside chair and knock it over with a loud and resonating clang. Immediately his bodyguard rushed in with two armed security men on his heels. "Oh my...." exclaimed the queen again. But this time with a hush in her voice, looking very flustered at the commotion that was about to ensue yet again courtesy of her. "This whole palace is strung." She stated demurely, looking from her husband to the men that had just rushed into the room. "Well I told you my dear, an attack on your personal maid is a step away from us. And we are all here right now in one spot. You and our unborn child, the king and his heir...... One can never be too careful." The queen nodded at this statement but seemed preoccupied and thoughtful.
"Is anything the matter my love?" Pressed the king with concern etched all over his face. "Actually I think there just might be...". Stated the queen still looking down with a puzzled expression. At this, the king dismissed the three men that had just entered the room with a wave of his hand. And turned back to the queen. "When did you say Debeh was hit?" She asked looking serious and directly at the king. When he told her, she replied; "Well then it must have been three days before that, when she gave me that little satchet." She was pointing at a little brown sack shaped like a book, lying on a stool next to her bed. "She said to keep it for her. And that I could open it whenever I had to, or the time came to do so. I did not know what she meant by when the time came. But if Debeh needed me to keep something important for her, I definitely would. You know how unsafe the servant quarters can be sometimes." She finished with an air of factuality. The king had already curiously started walking over to pick up the brown bag. As he picked it up, a folded piece of stretched and parched sheet slid right out of it and on to the floor.
A tale of two kingdoms (cont'd)
"..... When he could no longer bear the weight of his angst and pain, he decided to kill his father and brother. He hired equally disgruntled and wayward young men and began to plot an execution with them. He had planned to meet with his gang members for about three days and carry out the execution on the fourth day. Then on the fifth day, in the absence of a king and any other viable successor. He would have to be crowned king. As he finalized his plan with his men and they celebrated their soon to be elevation and promotion over a sumptuous feast. His mother's maid came by to give him a special delicacy that the queen occasionally ordered for her sons every other forthnight. The maid would then over hear the plan to execute the king and run off to tell the queen."
The witch started to glance around herself, as if in search of something very vital to the continuation of the story. "What now?" Snickered a previously enraptured 'shiny shoes'. The two other women accompanying the high priestess, put their hands on both her arms in an effort to calm her down. Also they knew it was imperative that the witch not be ticked off again today. "Erm..." Started the witch as the the three guests held their breath. "I do not believe I need the young woman's permission to look around my house, when I so desire. Huh?" "I never said you....." Her aide's tightened their hold on 'shiny shoes', as if clinging on for their dear life. "No I don't believe you need my permission." Replied 'shiny shoes' with a forced and solemn smile. Shortly after she felt she had tasted blood from biting down on her tongue so hard.
An even stronger reason for her to be on her best behaviour was the reason they sought the witch in the first place. Something was sweeping through the 'sisterhood' that felt like it could be a plague. The sooner they got to the bottom of it, the better for everyone of them. She would endeavour to persevere to the very end "Very well then." Finished the witch with a whiff of satisfaction. "I think I shall continue with the story." She then cracked her knuckles and continued. "When the distraught queen got the news from her maid, she quickly sent for the king and informed him about their son's plan to execute him and his brother. The king's next move was ingenious."
Know thy friends loose-lips:
"So what you are saying is you think your wife killed the maid?" Stated the sixth magistrate in derisive jest. "Nooo! I never said she killed the maid herself! I said she was with me at about the time of the murder." Tufad was exasperated and highly disappointed at his companions sudden denseness. "So you suspect her even though she was with you at the time?" The sixth magistrate continued with a sly glint in his eye. Tufad rolled his own eyes in disgust. It was as if the man never heard a word he had previously said. Was this a misplaced joke? He could not believe the way this conversation was going. He now thought he might have been better off not coming to the sixth magistrate. He had simply felt that the man would need all the leads that could help the investigation of Debeh's murder. He always seemed to want to alleviate the king's burdens. Or was that all a show of service. It had been an hour and half of explaining the conversation he had with that woman he was married to and what happened right after. And it seemed he was no where an inch moved from the beginning of this meeting. Infact, he felt very annoyed, insulted and violated at the moment.
.