PART EIGHT: (Cont'd)
A whole new world:
Reinah kept her face lowered to the bowl in front of her, as her very boisterous and animated hostess ladled green substance into it. The woman had just done the same for her daughter sitting next to the princess. It had obviously turned out of course, that they were a family as Reinah initially suspected. Father, mother and their daughter. The woman did most of the talking, most of which flew right over Reinah's head as she curiously watched their daughter. The girl hardly ever said anything nor did she respond to anything that was said to her. She too would periodically stare at Reinah vacantly, like she was not really there. The invitation to come to their home had been quick and without fanfare, almost as if they had been waiting for her to show up in the woods.
"And how are you to be called little one?" Asked the woman, donning a very wide smile. While grabbing Reinah by the shoulders towards her.
"Areinah is my name, but everyone calls me Reinah." Answered the princess as she tried to discreetly rub her throbbing shoulders. "Well then, Reinah it shall be!" The woman announced loudly, howbeit to an audience of three. "You can call me mama Sika and over here is papa Sika," she said pointing to the man who just nodded with a half smile as he quickly averted his eyes to the load of food he was getting ready to hurl. "And here of course is our daughter Sika." She finished, also grabbing that one by the shoulder. Sika never acknowledged her name, nor did she responded to her mother's introduction. She just kept her eyes on whatever it was she kept her eyes on.
The trip back to their hut had been brisk and uneventful, i.e. excluding the woman's constant chatter. Reinah and Sika had both carried little baskets of food as the man had the bulk of it. The woman carried all the farming tools in an empty basin. Inside the hut looked sparsely furnished. But it appeared not from lack and probably from choice. Since whatever was on display looked quite nice and well kept. Before the evening was over, Reinah would get her first insight on her hosts. After Sika had slurped twice at the green substance in her bowl, she comfortably buried her forehead inside the same bowl.
Salacious and sadistic slander (The conniving chronicles cont'd):
The marriage ceremony followed immediately after the new king's coronation and it was certainly a jubilance the palace desperately yearned for. They had not long buried their reigning king who died from a ghastly wound incurred by a freak accident and whose sudden departure cast a pregnant doom on the royal walls. The young and new king felt gratefully fortunate to have his friend, wife and new queen as a great comfort in a tumultous, demanding, fast changing season and time. The new queen settled in rather quickly and nicely, in a bid to be one less agenda that her husband would have to tackle in his newly inherited position. So sensitive was she about what was happening around her, that when she saw the signs her mother had taught her about her body carrying a child. She held off telling her husband right away. She would wait a little bit until things settled was her reasoning. They had the rest of their lives to welcome and enjoy the birth of their children. It may have been her biggest mistake if any.
The young king could not tell which day was more devastating. The day he heard about his father's accidental fall or the day one of his magistrates brought him gossip unfit for a king. A subject from one of the provincial towns next to his wife's home, had come forward crying for justice. He had been bethroted to the reigning queen in secret he said. It had to be secret he explained because he had been tempted to lay with her and he believed she might be with his child. The magistrates had immediately convened with the counselors and had quickly arrived at a verdict. It was a scandal too disgraceful for the throne and unworthy of further meddling by way of investigation. They called for the queen to be dethroned and executed immediately. Pleas from her father and his brothers were never relayed to the king. Their daughter was known by all in their province as a virtuous girl. The man that made the accusation, was not an indigene of the town he claimed to be from. The royal counsel would not budge. They were there to uphold an integral kingdom and protect the throne they had argued.
Finally, in great shame and unspeakable sorrow abounding upon sorrow. The young king offered a pardon for the queen not to be executed. She would be put away until the day she died. And if indeed she was with child for the accuser, he would be sent to his father after she the mother had weaned him. The counsel wished he had not intervened, but they could not override the king's leniency and pardon. Now a king wallowed not only in the loss of a father but that of a new bride also and who knew what else? The mongering magistrate would have another emergency meeting with the governing body. A queen had to be found for the king immediately. And he thought he had the right candidate.
A trail of deception (The conniving chronicles cont'd):
Ethia fumed at the re-collection of the last heated conversation she had with her magistrate lover. Actually, it was more of an insult-slugging and hate-filled fest than it was a romantic banter. Had he just remembered that he was married with children? Ethia snickered to her bitter self. It all had to happen, right after they found out she was with child. What was she supposed to do without his up-keep and with this child. He could not just walk out on them now. She had made herself available to him and he had even promised that everything would end favorably for her. After all, she was prettier and younger than his wife. Or so she thought, having never met her. Where were all those promises that kept her hanging on? After he said he could not see her again, she vowed she would come after his family. So her lover promised he would handle the situation once and for all. In less than a forthnight, her most far-fetched dream and ultimate fantasy was about to manifest. She had been chosen to marry the king. After much screening and selection, the counsel had found a new and suitable queen. A woman of astounding dignity they claimed, though no one could be found to attest to that fact. She had indeed come highly recommended.
Ironically, Ethia and the king's counsel never saw eye to eye as soon as she assumed the throne. She was their most vocal and indictive opponent. Word also had it that the king never smiled, laughed or expressed joy again from that time onward, till the day he died. Well except for one soul stirring and heart tugging incident. The queen was said to have gone into a life threatening and early labor, when she was delivered of her male child seven months later. And more so, it seemed the gods smiled on her nobility because the baby was fully formed and ready to be born too. Not far away from the throne, hidden in the palace dungeon and alone with her mother. The exiled queen gave birth to a beautiful son and vowed to keep him, even after he was weaned. This was his home, howbeit in the wrong section. Someday and somehow, fate would smile on them again. Truth would be unveiled and light would disperse darkness. It always did.
As her baby grew, Ethia realized it was getting to be obvious that he looked nothing like the king. Not his face, hair nor constant and extremely colicky disposition. So one fine day, she took a so-called royal visit to see and extend welfare to the prisoners in the dungeon as it was announced. She specifically went in to see the exiled queen and her son. When she saw the baby boy, she was panicked and highly threatened. He was without a doubt, a spitting image of his father the king. Even the baby's smile was acutely incriminatory. As Ethia took the baby from his mother's hands to hold, she asked. "How do you call him?" "I call him......" The boys mother started to say, when Ethia cut her off rudely. "Never mind. It will not matter anyhow." This she said gruffly, as she handed the baby back to his mother and walked away. Back stiffened in rage and determination.
The haunting sound of agony (The conniving Chronicles cont'd):
Witnesses would say it was the most piercing and heart wrenching cry they had ever heard. So shrill and filled with anguish was the wail, that it cut through the atmosphere in the gallows and penetrated the dungeon walls for all to realize. The heart broken and exiled queen held a dead child in her hands that was not hers. She said she had gone to sleep, then woke up to feed her baby. But instead found a dead one that in no way belonged to her. She feared that her son might be dead and tried to kill herself. Once more, the king extended his wand of leniency towards her. The royal commanded, that every male child around the same age as her baby boy be brought to the palace. She was then granted permission to look at each child and point out hers should she find him.
Child after child she looked and shook her head in mounting despair, as the other mothers sympathised with her desperate plight. Thereby hung the unavoidable question. If the dead child was not hers, then whose was it? None in the province had reported a baby boy missing nor had any claimed a dead one. As the king watched her misery, his heart was moved once again as in times past. So he commanded his officers to search every corner and house in the province, to make sure that no one was hiding a male child of that age. Infact, even the palace inhabitants were not exempt. "Shall I now parade my only son the prince before a condemned slave?" Was Ethia's derisive response to the king's decree. So the king asked for his son Nerlak (for that was the name he had chosen for his son before he was born) and held him before the grieved and traumatized mother.
The smile that broke on her face made him smile too. This kingdom had borne an air of foreboding since he started to reign. The laughter and joy that was a staple, when he grew up had all died down. He had felt like the king of gloom and doom. But today he managed to put a smile on the face of a grieving mother who had just lost the baby she had barely weaned. A woman he once knew or maybe thought he knew. Now here she was smiling through her tears, even though her problem had not been solved. Was it the sight of another child that brought her hope for hers, he could not tell. He was not a mother and never would be one. Or did the prince have special powers that brought joy to sorrow no matter how heavy? Strange was the fact that the prince would not sit still. He leaped, screamed and cried while reaching out to the poor sad woman in front of him. An even stranger sight, was that she never reached back to the squirming baby. She just looked at the tot as tears streamed down her eyes.
No one ever heard from her after that. The king permitted her to leave the dungeon and go live with her mother in their hometown. Her father had died of a broken heart shortly after she had been accused and cast away. However, it was said that she died a happy woman. Her son was finally where he rightfully belonged she had surmised and said. No one understood what she meant by that, not even her mother. Did he belong to whomever stole him, or did he belong to the death he might have died? Only the boy's mother would know the answer to that mystery. And she would take it to the grave with her. Or maybe the answer would still be alive, long after she was gone. Truth and time would tell for sure.
A doctor in the deep:
Bronid's breathing was labored as he lurched forward with a limp. He had almost tripped on tangled weed. His health was rapidly deteriorating as he physically got weaker daily. It was no easy feat sitting on the fence in between two worlds. One in which he naturally belonged and the other in which he cluelessly but foolishly wandered into and bound himself. His main concern now was his ailing son. He would die fighting this plague that befell his family, when he should have known better. 'Shiny shoes' had not haunted him for a couple of days now. They must be pre-occupied with a worthier cause or had found some other prey for their fiendish menu. Either way, he was always on his guard now.
He looked around his precious plant bed, now overgrown with aggressive weed. He had not done any work in it, since the day he beheld the evil that kidnapped him. He had been working on grafting some very precious healing herbs at that time. Now as much as could be possible, he would commence with his work. Who knows his own son might be the first to benefit from this breakthrough. As he began to sort his herbs from the encroaching and menacing plants, he heard movements behind him. Instantly grabbing his farming knife, Bronid listened closely and carefully.
The tones started out low and muffled, then it increased to what sounded like two people arguing. Convinced that it could not be another gruesome and savage ritual, Bronid moved towards the voices.
A tale of two kingdoms (cont'd):
"The king figured that since the thought of killing his father and his brother had entered into his son's heart, he would find a way to eventually carry it through now or in the future. So that night, the king abdicated the throne. If one son would foster an act of treason for his inheritance to reign, then the other son should be prepared and allowed to possess his inheritance also. Before he left, he called together the counsellors, margistrates, rulers and the fetish wise men. He would divide the kingdom in two parts. The rebellious son could reign to his heart's content without having to kill his brother. He could rule over those that were in agreement and support of his wicked ways.
However, only one kingdom would be authenticated with the king's blessings and his sign of installment. Only one kingdom would have the support and backing of his government. The kingdom that acknowledged him as king. The real and recognized kingdom lineage, would be the ones wearing the king's ring. The ring would be handed over from generation to generation, and its potency would also increase as time went on.
The son that usurped his position, would always have to look behind his back in fear and insecurity. He would always be threatened by his brother, even when there would be no threat. He would always be at war with all and all will be at war with him. In the very end, no matter how many generations go by he would eventually be at the mercy of his brother."
"Here is where it gets tricky," said the witch abruptly interrupting the flow of the story. She then rubbed her palms together in satisfaction while flashing a very toothy grin. At that very moment, 'shiny shoes' looked at her companions on both sides of her. They never looked back at her. So engrossed were they in the story, as the witch picked up exactly where she had stopped. "The wise old king was known to be a very generous rewarder. So for the maid that uncovered the plot to destroy the kingdom, by killing the king and the prince. Here is what the king did for her........"
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