PART NINETEEN Cont'd
I saw something but said nothing:
The woman stared at her husband dolefully. Feeling every bit of the hopelessness he was feeling and the despair written all over him. He was suffering in a way, in which she could not reach him now. They both had their share of the burden of guilt. Whether directly or indirectly. The excruciating effects and the aftermath were nonetheless devastating. "I should have said something to my father. Or to anyone for that matter. I will never stop paying for the rest of my life." "But you were only a kid." Started the wife consoling, as she braced herself for an all too familiar but regret-filled recollection. However, she went ahead with her equally familiar reiteration. "At just eight years old, you could not have known any better. You could not have understood the possible magnitude of it all. Infact, here we are as adults and it still does not all make sense."
She knew she had to coax him from this wave current, that often carried them helplessly away. With him willingly floating in self pity and her struggling to maintain some equilibrium for their kids if anything. More so, she needed to finally experience some peace for once in a long time. A state of mind that had completely deluded her, most of her adult existence. She felt she always seemed to be caught between everyone's action or inaction. Try as she may have initially, to do things right. Or even attempt to make right, what was done wrong. She still came up short and shattered. Every attempt to salvage the situation they all found themselves in had failed or was failing rapidly.
Even when summoned before the king with her two friends, one of which eventually suffered a fractured rib. Their sins or wrong doing at the time, being their chosen professions. She had kept her personal promise, not to be the agent of death for any other person. Especially innocent infants and/or children. She had heard much too many cries of a mother's anguish and agony. There had been six in her father's house alone, herself included. Now along with the death of their first born son, her husband was severely tormented by something he witnessed as a young boy. A part he felt he played indirectly and suppressed for most of his life. A part of his memory that had now been painfully jostled by the death of their son and other present occurrences.
Ironically, it seemed both their tragedies had come full circle and almost identical in nature. She had known her husband, since she was twelve and he was eighteen. Their families had a friendship mostly maintained by the wives and mothers. His father had been a supervising night janitor at the palace prison. When possible, he had loved going to work with his father during the elder's over-night shifts. He was only allowed of course, the nights his father predicted would be slow.
On those so called slow-nights, his father got to take a nap break while another surbodinate supervised in his absence. He would sit and listen to his father tell stories until they both fell asleep even if for a half-hour. The rest was always refreshing and their time together, priceless. It was on one of those nights, that he saw something that would always haunt and torment him. Forever altering his peace of mind. Until now he had only confided in his wife the cynical and pervasive vision.
He had had a hard time falling asleep as usual with his father, this particulat time around. Probably had something to do with the sweet fruits he had eaten earlier and all day. Rare delicacies, brought by his visiting and richer cousins. So while the janitor slept and snored, his little adventure seeking son snuck away from his oblivious frame. He was headed towards a forbidden and sealed off area, that had always puzzled him. His father had once explained, that it could only be accessed by a few and that right by permission also. And to him as a kid definitely out of bounds.
Apparently, there was a person or persons that were in those quaters that were not criminals. Neither were they commoners too. But they had done something quite terrible against the king, requiring them to be put away. In his young naive mind, the boy often wondered about what would have someone who was not a killer or a thief put away in a dungeon. So his curious and eager legs crept closer to the object and location of his marvel. His feet and advancement were however stalled ever so abruptly, when he also heard a faint and rustling sound coming from the closed-off area. No one ever came to those parts on slow-nights. Nor did they as regulars ever hear any noise down there. Except for the ones they made themselves of course. Compelled by a confused transmission of fright but delayed flight, the little boy hid behind a bale of hay that had been temporary stored there for the stables.
As he stretched his neck cautiously, to take a peek from his hiding place. He saw a figure dressed in a black cloak with an equally black hood. They were also walking briskly towards the sealed section and carried something close to their chest as they did. They must have had a key thought the boy, because without much fuss and as he contemplated running back to his father. The person was out again and still carrying whatever it was they were carrying close to their chest. He thought of still making it to wake his father before they were completely gone. But his feet would not move. And yet when he finally got to his barely waking father. The fear of reprimand for having snuck away in the first place got the better of him. However, the echo of chaos and tragedy in the kingdom the next day was understood by all. Both the young and the old.
".... And besides," continued his wife. "There is no way to be certain of who it was, what they did and what they may have been carrying." "Indeed," stated her husband sarcastically and mostly to himself. "I know for sure, that they were not carrying parchments or clothes. I tell you, I know." He continued defensively. His wife only nodded, allowing him to vent. It was an all too familiar and exhausting scenario. "And then, what are the odds. That my wife's father makes such a confession to us? It is all falling on me. There must be something I am supposed to do." He thought rather loudly as he got up from where he sat and began to punch one fist into the other open hand.
"Well we have charitably tried to approach the royals every which way we could, but have only encountered roadblocks. All we know is that my father was hired by a magistrate to attest to something he knew was not the truth. The name of the woman he had never heard and who she was he does not know. But he told a grievious lie for a fee that has destroyed him. How far his false claims went and to what extent the damage it caused remains foggy. He only untruthfully confirmed a web already constructed before he was approached. As destructive as that is in itself!"
"Did the queen mother say anything to you, when she interrupted the meeting with the queen?" Her husband seemed more worried. "No, because I was instantly whisked away by the guards. But I know she saw and recognized my face from the palace lawn confrontation." The wife reluctantly confirmed his worry. "Then for now, you must lay low and away." Stated her husband regretfully. "But there has to be another way, to free ourselves from these culpable loom and doom." He continued thoughtfully and loudly as if his wife were no longer there. "I must redeem myself, and protect my other children. Wait!...." He exclaimed suddenly as if remembering something.
"You said your friend once worked for the queen." His eyes were boring into his wife's as if he intended to extract the answer before she spoke. "Her younger sister did. But unfortunately, she is dead now. Murdered in the palace. There in lies a greater dilenma than espionage and conspiracy from the past.... They recently had a murder!" The agony of this fresh memory was threatening to reduce her to sobs. "Where is your friend now?" "What?!" "Where is your friend? She might be able to help us out."
"Maybe not." Supplied the exhausted wife in resignation. "She cannot be known or seen. Infact, I should not have told you the connection. Her late sister wanted it that way."
"What in the world are you talking about?" The man thought he had a plan. And the sooner he got things on the way, the better. He had no time or patience for unnecessary sentiments. Many of which his wife was ocassionally prone to.
"It is rather complicated you see. Even I myself do not know all the details." Finished the woman, hoping that might be the end of that topic and that it would be dropped.
"Then maybe it is time to find out the details, because we could possibly need her." The woman just stared at her husband, as she shook her head slowly. Now he had really lost his mind to grief and guilt she thought sadly.
Un-operation search and identify:
"So, how is our search going?" Ethia walked up to Rifra in the main palace hallway, as he inspected crates and cartons of deliveries.
"Our search? Your highness." The housekeeper kicked aside a crate he had been bending over, and stood up straight.
"Yes our search stupid! You were supposed to be looking for a hidden nuisance, remember?" Her tone was tart and it stung.
"Oh yes of course, your highness. It is going as expected." Replied the young man as he made to face her fully, while avoiding her eyes.
"And what exactly do you define as 'expected'?" Countered the queen mother, still trite.
"Should it take a century to find a person working as a servant within the confines of this palace?"
Rifra only bent his head, without saying a word.
"I expect a thorough search and investigation, with a favorable result from you as soon as possible! Do I make myself clear?!" Ethia's shouting caused a few servants in the vicinity to scamper for any available cover.
"Certainly your highness." Replied the housekeeper, with his head still bent.
"Meanwhile, I must pay that foolish woman another visit. She dared to send me on this 'wild goose chase'. The impertinent...." The royal fumed and grumbled loudly to herself.
"Certainly your highness." Interjected Rifra, interrupting the irate queen mother.
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Yelled Ethia as she stalked away, still protesting under her breath.
Causes, effects and confusion:
"Son, are you sure everything is alright?" The concerned healer looked a little too worn for his age. He had been identifying and mixing healing herbs with his son, for the most part of the day. And they had just finished with and dismissed two of their patients.
"Of course father, I believe I am. Why do you ask?"
"Well for starters, for the third time today. I have had to redo your mixes. Which never happens, because you are the expert. Practically the unrivaled originator, so to speak." The older healer paused and looked intently at his son. Then moved away from where he had been standing, to sit in a chair that had just been vacated by their last patient. Bronid stopped what he had been doing also. Looked from his father to the collective containers of mixtures sitting on the wooden shelf in the room. Then he grabbed himself another seat and sat down opposite his father.
"Actually father," the young healer began tentatively. "I have been feeling quite overwhelmed and confused lately."
"Overwhelmed?" The surprised registered on the older man's face was hard to miss.
"Well not really." Continued Bronid, seemingly struggling with his explanation. "I mean there has been no new or added burden, responsibility or anything of that sort for that matter."
"Then what is it son?" His father pressed on, deep concern still etched in his face. "What is causing you to slip in the things you know so well. Right at the pinnacle of your carrier and the prime of your life?"
"I don't know father." The younger healer lifted his head now as he spoke. "Everything seems so hazy and clouded these days. I barely sleep and when I do. My wife says I keep getting up to walk around in the middle of the night."
Bronid dropped his head into both of his hands, and rubbed vigorously.
.