The Parchment

Athilea Majiri

  It was a dark and stormy night when there was a knock at her bedroom door. Thunder clashed outside her window and lightning flashed, it played tricks with her mind and caused it to see the sun when there wasn't one. She slowly, and neglectfully, got out of her bed and went over to the door; her bare feet tried to escape the cold stone floor.
  She pulled the door open and glared at the servant that stood on the other side, "What do you want," she scolded him heatedly.
  "I'm sorry m'lady," the old male servant said cooly, he took the girls arrogance in stride, ”but there's been a messenger, and he left this for you."
   The girl was handed a note on a slightly scorched piece of parchment. Before she had the chance to ask anything about the messenger the servant was gone. She stared at the note as she pushed the door closed and opened it carefully, the parchment crumbled slightly at the edges when she did.
  
    I apologize for all the secrecy, but there was no other way. I could not allow myself to be revealed. You are in danger, my lady, and you must get out of that castle now.

   She read over it again and again as she tried to make sense of what was written on the parchment. At the bottom edge of the paper there were droplets of blood, that was enough to finally get her moving. Quickly she pulled on her riding clothes and shoes before she ran out of her bedroom, her long blond hair flowed behind her. She went over her plan again and again in her mind as she grabbed the foil from the plaque in the dark corridor and continued hurriedly down the hall. The next thing she grabbed was a lit candle stick, ignoring the pain as the hot wax spilled onto her hand.
   As she ran she thought of all the secret passageways and underground tunnels this palace kept hidden and decided on the best one to take. Her mind raced to figure out who had sent the message as she turned down the hall and rushed down the curved stairway, she wondered if they still lived. Lost in her thoughts she ran into the servant that had brought her the note. He and three others seemed to be guarding the door to her escape route, but how could they have known.
   She backed up slowly, holding the sword up as she took the fighting stance she thought would be needed, "What's going on," her mind demanded, but her voice betrayed her fear.
   For a moment the aging man sad nothing, he just watched the arrogant child through oddly dark green eyes. When he spoke his voice had a chilling edge to it, "Child, you know I would never do anything to harm you," he said, though his eyes spoke a different truth, "I know what the note says, and I know who wrote it. I just want to help you to escape this place."
   The girl backed up slowly, her sword still aimed at the servent, "Do you really expect me to believe that? I am not an ignorant child any longer, and your games will have no effect on me. I will know what you have done with the sender of this message, and who it was," she said as calmly as she could stand to, "What exactly happened to the one that brought the message for that matter? Or where they the same person," her fear was obvious in her odd honey colored eyes.
   "Child, they most certainly were not. The one that sent the message was your brother. I don't know who the other was, but I would suppose he was a servant of some sort."
   "You lie! My brother is long dead, killed when the queen jumped from the tower with him in her arms to conceal her treachery," the candle fell from trembling hands to the floor. Slowly it rolled off underneath a table and was forgotten.
   "Are you so certain of that? Do you truly know the queen killed herself, or is that just stories you've been told by myself and other servants? Have you ever even seen you're father, child?"
   She paused a moment as her life swam before her eyes. It was true that she hadn't the chance to see her father often, but could it also be true that she had never had the opportunity to speak with him. She couldn't believe it. Even though her mind continually came up with blanks as to what her father looked like, how old he was, or even the color of his eyes, she couldn't allow herself to believe that she had never seen him. He was her father; he would want to spend some time with his daughter. Wouldn't he?
   Before she understood what was happening the servants had seized her. She noticed how much brighter the room had become and looked towards the resting place of the candle. It had caught a tapestry on fire, but the others seemed not to have noticed. They cruelly tied her hands and feet together and drug her along the rough stone floor. She fought against the ropes, but to no avail, the more she pulled against them, the tighter they became. Soon they cut of the circulation to her hands and feet.
   It was just minutes before they had her on her knees in front of the throne, the servants explained to a man she had never seen before of how horribly she had started to act. They even had a story ready for how she had tried to run away. The king didn't even act as though he knew her, he just thought of her as a servant. It didn't help any that she was in riding cloths, and not the more expensive clothing that was often made for her. He sentenced her to be flogged in the morning as an example to all his slaves of how such acts were rewarded.
   They drug her off to the servants quarters where she was forced to sleep. The stinking sheets made it almost impossible for her to breath, and she could feel the hungry eyes of some of the male servants as they watched her. It wouldn't be long before they took action and did as they pleased with the new royal servant. It was then that she saw them.
    Her mother and brother, it could be no one else as far as she was concerned. She called out to them, but they couldn't hear her, and though they looked right at her, they seemed to see absolutely nothing. One of the servants grabbed her hair and pulled her head back with a quick jerk as he kneeled over her. He whispered in her ear, "They can't see you. And do you want to know why?"
    Tears of pain and sorrow filled her eyes and she let out a cry, "No. You couldn't have," she sobbed.
    "Oh, but we did. They aren't alive any longer child. We made sure of that. If they had lived then our plans for you would never have been allowed to unfold. Those are just the animated and preserved corpses of you family," the sound of tearing cloth filled the air and she began to cry, "Don't worry though, child. You won’t be joining them; we have different plans for you."
    The next morning she awoke, her stomach ached horribly, but she couldn't remember anything of the night before. That was until the stench of the sheets filled her nostrils and she felt the touch of strong hands against her body. She began to scream the word no over and over again until she was forcibly rolled over and caught a glimpse of the ruined bodies that lay around the room.
    A boy that was close to manhood stood over her looking into her eyes with concern, "Are you alright?"
    She nodded gently, "Wh-what happened here," her voice was weak and sore. She stared up at the boy and wondered if this could be the brother her servent had spoken of.
    "Their magic seemed to have backfired. Something tore everyone in this castle apart, but somehow left you alive."
    A smile spread across her lips at the sound of that, and though the boy wanted to know what she was smiling about, she would not tell him. She knew what happened, but she could never let anyone in on the secret. Somehow she realized that, even though it had not been a spoken promise. Her mother and brother had, indeed, seen her. If not for her presence then they may have never gotten their revenge.
    "Why didn't you leave when you received the note?"
    She stared at him in disbelief, "I tried. They knew where I was going though. How do you even know about that note?"
    "Who do you think sent it to you," he said, "I'm a seer, well sometimes, and I knew what was going to happen here last night. I was afraid the note hadn't gotten to you in time. I apologize for that."
    The boy, who she began to see as a long lost sibling, helped her up and the two of them made their way out of the castle. Even though she was curious about her father she asked nothing. She didn't even look back. Some questions, she began to realize, are better unanswered.
   
    Somewhere deep in the bowels of the half burning castle the only sound that could be heard were screams of agony. There were shadows on the wall of a man hung up by chain, and of something that was being peeled off of him. The guard that had stumbled his way onto this horrible scene turned quickly and ran. In the back of the mans mind he knew that they should help the king, but he was not willing enough to risk his own life to do so.

©2006 Pamela "Athilea" Johnson All Rights Reserved