The Queen

“We must always mind our manners around her”, added Mother calmly. “She’s not one to be displeased by such things, to be sure. But I am. We owe so much to her. Our family and our nation both.”

I did not answer. Mother had learned my ways long ago, and that my ways were mine to be had. Her worries concerned me none. I would save my answer for the moment I met ‘her’.

I let my gaze wander out the window as the limousine went on lulling, hoping some tree or cow would cut the endless bore of the field. I clenched the pommel of my sword. The convoy could not go any faster, lest it lose formation. The armoured vans front and back would be useless against an attack from the side. The damn road was way too thin.

“I wish I could have prepared you better for this moment.” went on the old hag. “But this is the way it must be. I too went through the same at your age. Felt the same unease. But by the time it was done, I felt renewed. She inspired me so.”

With a brusque division, barley gave way to sunflowers, to sight’s end. At least the color of the landscape had changed. Bore soon took over again.

Inspiration. What a joke. A king was no damn poet. Dreams of must-be’s cared not for the reality of the land or the people. ‘She’ would answer to me, whoever she was. That, I would make sure of.

I must have dozed off at some point, for my senses sharpened suddenly as the convoy began to slow down. It wouldn’t be long now. The men had their orders. My part was to keep cool.

I tried my best to retain composure as I slid off the seat, legs and arse cramped from the accursed travel. The air was hot, dry and heavy, and stunk of manure. I stood tall, sword hanging at my side. As the chauffeur helped Mother off the car, which would take some bloody minutes, I took a long look at the household before me.

It was large enough. A longhall of adobe walls painted white, weathered by wind and sun. A few smaller houses spread along a small grove. Young farmhands here and there carried hay, tended to animals. Crooked wooden corrals. Stacked beehives. Greyed thatched roofs.

A fucking pisspot. I had expected no less from a mindless tradition.

A milkmaid approached us, bowed gracefully enough, and gestured to the side of the longhall, towards the grove. She said not a single word, but kept bowing. The farmhands were visibly startled by our presence. Good. It served them best not to interfere.

I had to push forward then and there. Mother kept calling for me to wait, but I’d have none of that. I was not afraid, no, I was anxious. I would put an end to this charade at the time of my choosing.

I walked through the grove at a strong pace, Ernst and Mike right behind me. They were good men, loyal to the bone. I’d need them both, if only to make an impression. The grass was soft and green, the trees bearing fruit. There was not a single fallen leaf or grown weed at sight. Her servants sure took their job seriously. Was this my fate? To become another pawn of hers? Only, instead of tending to a garden, I would tend to a kingdom.

Nonsense. A king was pawn to no one. Far too long had my family believed otherwise.

I slowed my pace down and stood amongst the fruit trees. Ernst and Mike stood with me, just as confused. There was nothing. Had I been given the wrong direction? I could have the head of that maid if that was so. I was searching around and wanting to turn back and stride off as I caught the glimpse of the reflection of water, downhill behind the bushes. The leaves sighed heavily with the breeze, but I could suddenly tell apart the sound of a small creek. I descended the small slope, as my eyes were stung by the shine. And amidst the sparks I saw a woman, squatting by the shore. She dressed no differently than the rest of the farmhands. She was pulling out laundry from the water into a basket. But her hair... it was long, and black, and yet shone on its own. Even braided, even as she stood, it reached the ground and ruffled at the soft grass.

The woman looked at me with serene eyes, a half-smile etched upon her face, and walked slowly towards me, basket held upon her hip. She was young and beautiful, as no woman I had ever seen. I dreamt of making her mine right then and there, Ernst and Mike would cover for me. But I could only stand baffled at the sight of her. 

I stepped back as she made her way uphill and left her basket on the ground. Only then did I notice the saber hanging from her belt. Black sheath and hilt, long and graciously curved. No other servants were armed. I took another step back and held my sword with my left.

“My lady!” screamed mother from behind. She was... running, though clumsily, towards us. I let her make a fool of herself. “My lady, please! Please forgive us!”, she said, as she threw herself on her knees before the woman, between us both. “He’s a stubborn child, always has been.” she said, panting. “I should’ve seen this... He can be mended, if you’d only spare him...”

Spare me? Mended? How far could this idiocy go? My right hand was reaching for my blade, but then the woman knelt beside my mother, placing a hand on her shoulder gently. I could easily take them both out right then, but why was she leaving herself so defenseless?

“Heather, sweet child.” spoke the woman. Her voice was calm and gentle, elegant, almost musical. “Thou needest not worry.” Then it struck me: she had called mother by her name. Only her family had ever done that. And she had called her a child.

All around, the sound of rushing boots took over. I let a smirk creep up my face. From afar I could see my men taking over this shithole of a farm, subduing the farmhands at gunpoint. They were quick to surrender, the pawns, throwing the stuff they carried and kneeling. They all remained silent, though. It was odd enough. The only loud voices were my men’s. Ernst and Mike drew their pistols, and I in turn ripped my blade from its scabbard.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are” I said with delight. “But this little facade is over. Admit the farse you are, and your death will be quick. Keep this up, and I’ll tear you up limb by limb.”

“My lady, please!” cried out mother. “Please...” She was sobbing like I had never seen her before. Even when father, her king, had passed away, she managed to keep her dignity. Now she begged like an abandoned street whore.

“Heather. ‘Tis fine” said the impostress tenderly to the old woman. “No family of myne shall come to harm, not this day, nor e’er. Thou art safe, as is thy son.”

“Did you not hear me, wench?” I said as the tip of my sword kissed her neck.  “Do you think you fool me with your ancient words? Do you really hope to convince me you’re some heroine of old? My family has played pretend long enough.”

Only when I mentioned her name did she look at me again. But her face was serene as ever, even with my sword at her throat. Calmly, she slid a finger between her neck and the blade, and stood up slowly. Now! I told myself. But... No, what would I gain from her dying now? I still hoped for her to explain all this. She’d do so, even between screams.

“Maximillian, is it not?” she said as she did the slightest motion of a bow. “I believe thou hast the strength and decisiveness a ruler requireth. But alas, I must needs fix thy temper, and thy judgement. Mourne the good men thou hath brought to demise, for they were skilled above most, and loyal to thee and to the crown.”

“Mourne them?” I laughed, but soon stopped dead as the breath caught up in my lungs. The woman vanished in a stream of blue waving light. I felt the wind strike me, and the leaves rustled and fell all around. I turned around and there she was again, shimmering. Her saber was out of her scabbard, its blade flaming blue and buzzing like thunder. Then the blood rained. Ernst and Mike’s bodies slid off themselves, cut clean from their legs. They even twitched a little. Before I realized, I was flat on my ass, my jaw clenched hard, my knees trembling, my heart giving out. Mother hugged me and whispered something as I cried. The woman slid her fiery saber back into its scabbard, as all around my men were shooting at something they could not fight. Their screams were dying out, little by little.

 “We shall speak again when thou’st regain’d thine senses” the woman said. “Return here. I shall teach thee how to rule.”