The MONITORS (A Fiction) Copyright 2015

PART SEVENTEEN:

Movin' on up:

"Even though you are underqualified, possessing far below the necessary requirements for the job. We have decided that in order to avoid any more disruptions and stagnation in the domestic upkeep of this great kingdom, you should fill the position of housekeeper. That is in the interim of course and till further notice."

Rifra quickly glanced from the first magistrate to the others, who all had their eyes peeled on him. All the ruling council under the king, consisting of magistrates, counsellors and their surbodinates. Sat quietly and grim faced on the panel, as the first magistrate spoke. The new housekeeper knew they were all obviously expecting an affirmative answer. The whole emergency meeting of conference was just a protocol. It could have gone no other way than was already expected.

"Yes your honor." Rifra simply replied. As the magistrate continued with his instructions.

"We would remind you of course, that because it is in the interim and a temporary assignment. You would have to run any major decisions of buying, acquisitions and hiring by the counsellor of domestic affairs."

"Yes your honor."

"This will have to be the case, until a permanent replacement is installed." The magistrate looked to both sides of the panel. Their unified nods, signaled an agreement.

"Yes your honor."

"We would also ask, that you not tamper with any of the deceased's belongings and records. An investigation is still in the works and besides, the domestic counsellor needs to review those records for his information."

"Certainly your honor." Was the housekeeper's final and compliant answer.

The newly appointed howbeit temporary housekeeper, stepped out of the council's chamber feeling light-headed and mentally drained. Though the appointment meeting had been simple, short and straight to the point. The intensity of its deliverance and unspoken expectations were without question, potentially nerve racking.

Methus the former and now dead housekeeper, had more or less inherited the position from his father. Or rather had been presented with the opportunity, when his father died abruptly also. It would appear that technically, he had been groomed for the position for most of his growing years. He had learned early and hands-on, the impeccable maintenance of the kingdom's massive edifice.

Ethia was waiting for Rifra, when he stepped out of the council's chamber. Earlier at the commencement of the meeting, she had snuck into an adjoining waiting room. There she pressed her ear against the thick wall, to strenuously eavesdrop on the ongoing session and discussions. She had to stop, when a guard routinely walked by during his security rounds. However unscrupulous her character, even she knew how ridiculous it would seem to be caught in a position like that.

"That was a quick move up now, was it not?" The queen mother sarcastically asked the dazed servant.

"I am sorry, your highness. I do not quite understand the question."

"Were you not just made the housekeeper young man?" Ethia spat out the words as if offended.

"Yes your highness, until a new one is hired."

"Never mind all that nonsense. You are now the new housekeeper." The statement sounded more accusatory than it was congratulatory. And the accused caught it.

"Very well then your highness." Agreed a bothered and dread-filled Rifra.

"Good. Glad to know that we are both on the same page now. As we do have so much work to do and people to find." The royal sped on like a late freight train. "First and foremost," she continued.

"There is this person who supposedly works here, that I have been trying to find."

The MONITORS; Operation road blocks:

"That sure quickly got that out of the way," grimaced Heinus satisfactorily.

"It might only just be a dent in the larger scope of things. A scratch off the bigger picture as it were." Xitus stated flatly, as he watched images of Manipa step between Reinah and the satchet waving young man. He had learnt from experience, not to get too comfortable or celebratory at a successful plot or scheme. It often seemed that the light-filled ones, got up numerous times. Sometimes even after a fatal attack. Instead he prefered to immediately launch successive attacks, that would allow hardly any room for recovery. So far, he still could not record a sixty percent success rate. So he found it kind of shocking, that Heinus the most ruthless of the monitors. The very right hand of the 'fly-lord' himself was in the mood for a toast.

"A dent here and a dent there. That is what creates the ultimate destruction." Countered Heinus proudly. "Since it is only a dent, she is not fully aware that a timely door has just been closed on her. Therefore, if she does not realize there is a problem. She will not fight it or choose to correct it. I call it the 'scheme of occupation and erosion'. You demurely ask for an inch, then deceptively and aggressively occupy one yard at a time. That is, until the host is completely alienated or destroyed. I bet you do not feel so smart right about now." Taunted the first monitor mockingly.

Xitus ignored the insult, if at all he had noticed. Something else was pre-occupying his mind. He continued to scroll pensively through the bursting images in the mirror. Heinus he thought, just brutishly carried out attacks. All without considering the need for relativity in the long run. However, he himself being in charge of human relations aspect. Has to work more carefully towards involving the mortals in their own inevitable destruction. There was less of a trace or a threat and the elimination of a possible counter-attack. If the subject believed it was their innate desire to systematically self-destruct. Whereas his comrade was more concerned about swinging loosely and forcefully, without any particular target or defined goal.

When he suddenly came to the image of the scene of the ruling council speaking to Rifra, he magnified it. "So," he turned to the other monitor. "Do you classify Methus' death as a dent or a closure?"

"It all depends on how you look at it." Shot back Heinus with a smirk. Still feeling smug from an initially perceived victory. Yet he continued. "It could be a closure, that opens up to a new scenario. Or/and a dent that gnaws periodically and ultimately stagnates or eliminates an ultimate goal." Xitus just glared at him feeling slighted and emasculated.

"And what exactly is the plan of execution now?" Queried the second monitor, still offended.

"Now that would be your department, wouldn't it? Getting them all muddled, confused and easily manipulated." The smirk still had not left Heinus face.

Busy with other bodies:

"So what did you the ruling council decide to do now?"

"About what?" Tufad was tired the moment he walked in the door, not a second before. It probably was as a result of the energy he expended, to brace himself for an expected yet unwanted and irrelevant nagging session. "About Methus' death of course! Was he killed? Was it an accident? What happens to his duties now?"

"And what in this great kingdom do you care about the death of anyone? And since when are you concerned about how things are run?"

"Well, the word around is; It might not have been an accident. Some people did not like him, you know? Like once when my daughter was running with her friends through the palace main hallway. That one had a fit about it. For sure he did."

"So in other words, for one you are the 'some people' that did not like Methus. Then secondly, why would you allow your child to play and run around in a restricted area? Tufad's expression was increulous, as he marvelled at his wife ability to voice such utter foolishness and still be completely oblivious to it.

"Do not look at me like that! They are just kids, trying to play."

"And in the vast expanse of the kingdom, its gardens, lawns and fields. The palace main hallway was the best option."

"That was where they wanted to play." Replied the woman merely shrugging her shoulders. "Don't forget they are just kids afterall." She finished, rolling her eyes at him.

"Yes they are just kids, who should be supervised by adults. They cannot raise themselves you know."

"What are you yelling at me for? I did not kill Methus. Your queen is the one who was not happy with him for always changing her maids." The magistrate heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"What you really need to do now," he started to say with a calmness that bellied irritation. "Is mind your own business. And that business at this moment takes the form of a little girl, called our daughter." His tone was as cold as his demeanor was defeated. Yet an all too familiar vexation, raged fierily in his spirit.

"If I was minding my business, would I be able to tell you that the queen is hosting strange and hostile people from very far away."

"She is the queen and has the right to host whomever she wants. But by the way, who told you such? And what has that information got to do with you?" The magistrate was exhausted.

"Well there is a very strange woman, who has been staying at the servants quarters for some days now. She had initially come to see the king, but insulted the queen mother. So now she was not allowed to see the king for that tresspass. Guess who decides to see her behind the king's back?" The informant was reeling with the pride of a knowing and relevant insider.

"And who fed you all this nonsense?" Tufad could not recall ever feeling so disgusted in his life.

"Well," his wife rubbed her palms together and expelled air from her mouth. Then stepping closer to him, she whispered; "The maid that prepared her a bed, told the guard who took her to the servant quarters. He then told his wife, who told me. We are friends you know. The guard's wife and I" She finished with a leer.

"And who did you tell?" The magistrate began to sweat profusely. Dreading the very answer he was waiting for.

"I told the queen mother of course." Tufad's wife announced with another clap of her hands and a triumphant smile.

In the shadow of serene style:

The woman cautiously perused the room and its intriguing elegance. A guard stood vigilant besides her, as they waited for her majesty the queen. The striking elegance and opulence of the decor in the waiting area was simple without being understated. The magnificence of the atmosphere commanded attention and an inviting interest without overwhelming. Contrasting and blended hues mesmerized the senses, as artistic displays subtly elicited enigmatic translations. For all the kaleidoscopic infusion of alluring ambiance, the large room radiated warmth, comfort and an unmistakable welcome. And in that imbued warmth, this stranger found solace that melted her initial unrest and fright. It was the guard's voice that startled and woke her from a wonder-laced reverie.

"Her majesty the queen," he simply announced.

The woman quickly, along with the other two occupants in the room. Bowed her head in obeisance and acknowledgement of the royal entry. But not before gazing upon the portriat of beauty, grace and much more of which she could not yet put her finger on. Hopefully, she grimaced in awe to herself. She would glean but a mite before she left this calming atmosphere.

She had heard that the queen was expecting a child. But the report, did no justice to the royal's dignified gait and fluid carriage.

"Do have a seat." She spoke with a smile, as the guard led the visiting woman to a chair situated almost at the center of the large reception room. A uniformed woman stood by and watched. Her face devoid of expression or an indication of who she might be. The visitor simply surmised that she was the queen's personal maid.

"Unfortunately, my husband the king was unable to see you earlier. But feel free to discuss with me. And be assured that it would be just as if the king had heard it."

"Thank you so very much, your majesty." Gushed the woman, bowing her head again in gratitude. As she lifted her head to speak, she unpreparedly and momentarily flinched at the eyes that flashed back at her. They were beautiful, free and with a tinge of mystery. Open like clean shutters, refusing to be bound by the vileness, chicanery and deceit of most that would behold.

The queen merely nodded her acceptance of gratitude, still smiling.

"Your majesty, my father a man who now lies in the throes of treachery. Woven by others and wielded with his tongue. Inspires this journey, that tells a tale of deep wizardry, uncensored in its administration and unprovoked in its motivation. He has confided and revealed to me, a wicked deed he collaborated and conspired to carry out. A falsehood that spat deadly lies from his very mouth. Words that seperated friends, divided lovers and eventually claimed innocent lives."

The queen looked on aptly. The smile was no longer there. It had been replaced by an expression though soft, yet unreadable. Nor was there a frown to behold either.

"This very deed of which he bleeds day and night, was carried out in these royal courts." She continued uninterrupted. "Yes in this kingdom indeed." The speaker emphasized, gradually feeling a rush of emotion egging her on.

The queen lifted an eyebrow, but remained silent.

"He had been sought out and paid by a magist......"

Suddenly, there was a very loud thud, crashing sound and raised voices. As if there was a commotion of sorts, brewing at the queen's courtyard. The guard stepped forward to stand in front of the queen who had not moved, as the other woman in attendance moved towards the door. Simultaneously, two more guards moved in to the room from an initially inconspicuos entrance. The queen's woman in attendance now opened the door leading to the courtyard. While the two extra guards flanked her. She swung open the door, just in time to admit an excited Ethia. She was waving her hand vigorously in the air. With a crying maid in tow. That one was carrying a basket of fruit, of which half were already rolling off the floor.

"I just thought I should bring some fruits for my grandson and his mother." Said the queen mother panting as she spoke.