Circle Of Sisters
19. The Queen's New Gown
It could scarcely be called a bed, but it was all that Virginia had known for a long time. Exactly how long was impossible to tell. In the early days, Virginia had scratched a tally of marks into the stone walls, each mark a measure of firstly, her despair, then later, her hatred. Now, she was dulled, her mind and spirit conformed to their existence just as the rough straw mattress had conformed to the shape of her body.
She stared at the stonework above her head, allowing her eyes to run over the minute cracks, forming them into odd shaped random patterns. One day she would exhaust all the possible combinations of cracks and lines. Then, she would have to haul her cot over to some other part of the tiny dungeon cell that had been her home since the ill-fated coronation ball. The slender spike of sunlight that struck her western cell wall every day was nonexistent this morning. Dark heavy clouds covered the sky, or at least that fraction of sky that Virginia could see from the high barred window. That window lay the cell open to the elements all year round. Snow had come in last winter, Virginia recalled. There was a distinct chill in the air that suggested there might be more snow today, even though it was barely the end of summer. She stirred under the coarse blanket, knowing she should get up and at least go through the motions of her normal routine. The grim faced guard would be bringing the prisoner's rations soon.
Virginia got up and paced the half dozen paces, stamping her feet to get some warmth into them. She fingered her thin blanket, but she wouldn't dare to ask for an extra one, not after last time. She craned her neck against the cold bars, peering down the gloomy corridor. Several feet away lay her father's cell, then beyond that was Wendell's confinement. Virginia could hear them moving around with as much effort as she was doing. But she didn't speak or call out to them. Wendell had stopped speaking altogether months ago. And it had been weeks since Virginia had been able to muster enough energy to talk to her father.
The familiar creak of the door at the far end of the corridor announced the guard approaching, towing a small hand cart. Steam wafted from under poor fitting lids that covered the food, and Virginia's mouth watered in spite of herself. So, hot food today. What a nice change. The guard shoved her plate through the narrow access hatch, neither looking directly at her nor speaking as was his custom. Virginia had come to know his face well regardless. He was one of those most loyal to the Queen. Virginia had watched him take blades to the drugged guests, finishing that day that which the Queen had planned all along. When he had straightened from his grisly task, blood dripping from his gold shirt buttons, Wendell the Dog Imposter had been the only one left alive. The Queen had forced the change on the imposter, shoving a cowering Wendell back into his human form. That was the last proper look Virginia had gotten of the former heir to the Fourth Kingdom. She and the prince had been hauled away to the dungeons, to be joined shortly thereafter by her father. But in those long seconds, before she had disappeared from the world forever, Virginia had had eyes only for one other soul in that room. Wolf had been overpowered, finally, and was face down on the floor, held down by a dozen or so men at arms. The dead legs of the Huntsman still partially covered him. The blood from the murdered royalty had flowed over the tile floor and his fancy red uniform was soaked in it.
That was the last time she had seen him.
Virginia's hands trembled slightly as she lifted the lid, revealing a good sized portion of food. Despite it's lacking in presentation and flavour, it was good food, plain but satisfying enough to Virginia. She sat on the floor cross legged and pulled sections of the food apart, eating methodically. Whatever plans the Queen had for Virginia, starvation was evidently not one of them. Nor poison, her oft boasted method of elimination. Some days Virginia almost wished for poison, concealed or otherwise. A deadly apple on a silver platter? Yes, thank you very much, mother. Virginia heard herself saying such a thing. Almost on cue, the door opened once more, and the telltale swish of rich fabrics heralded the presence of the Queen. Virginia sighed, but continued with her meal. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the deep green velvet cloak as it draped across the floor. It must be a new gown, this one, Virginia surmised, for she had not seen that particular pattern of embroidery before. Odd that she should notice details like that. Virginia saw that a tiny speck of dried mud had adhered to the skirt and she felt a certain satisfaction, even though she pitied the poor servant whose hide would be thrashed when her increasingly fastidious mother caught sight of it.
Then Virginia heard a sound that made her breath catch. A soft sound, something like a cat's purr, only she knew it was no feline rumble, but lupine. The growl was punctuated with little gurgle's that any human mother would recognize. Damn you, mother, that she should think to taunt me like this, Virginia cursed under her breath. But she couldn't help it. She had to look. Just a glimpse. Caelum stared down at her from the Queen's arms, his green eyes flat and unknowing as they met her's. Virginia dropped her gaze, unable to bear the realisation. He doesn't even know me, she thought. But then, why would he? Traumatic as it had been, he would have no memories of his birth. He would not have remembered the mixture of love and loathing on his grandmother's face as she lifted him from his mother's body, nor his mother's screams as he was borne away, nor the sharpness of the knife that had severed the tiny tail...
Virginia shuddered from her position of powerlessness. Cold iron bars were all that prevented her from reclaiming her son. The Queen tutted loudly, and Caelum imitated it the way infants often do.
"Come now, girl. Have you no manners, not even for the next ruler of all the Kingdoms?" she said, her voice as cold and unfeeling as ever. Virginia's heart rushed a minute. So, she had made Caelum her heir. It was not really a surprise, given that the Queen was beyond bearing age and her only other surviving relative lingered in the dungeons of Castle White. But there was small hope that Caelum would mature into anything but his false mother's protege, even if Virginia lived long enough to see him come to power.
"What do you want?" Virginia responded dully.
"Why, just to spend time with my would-be daughter. Is that so surprising to you?". Virginia risked another glance, surprised at her mother's attempt at normal conversation. Usually she just stood there and ranted about how glorious was her reign, how much power she had over all the Kingdoms, how small and insignificant Virginia was. Christine looked little different than she had a year ago. Her long auburn hair was bound up, the long comb that Virginia had been unable to wield securing it in place. Still a beautiful, proud woman, feared from one end of the lands to the other. Virginia had gleaned little information about the state of the Kingdoms, but she suspected that those minor nobilities that had survived were either huddled together in random outposts, or had cheerfully handed over their allegiances for a share in the new regime. But today, something was different. The Queen's face, always so smooth and mask like, now betrayed the finest of lines about mouth and forehead. Virginia bit back her own surprised expression at this. So, something was worrying her mother. But Christine, at once percieving that Virginia had seen this, forced a horrid smile of indifference to her frozen features.
"Something's gone wrong" Virginia said, unable to avoid the chance to goad her mother.
"Don't be ridiculous girl. I am all powerful now. None deny me my due. Even you" The Queen replied, but every inch of her body belied her words. Virginia wondered if her mother even knew that she lied to herself as she spoke. Christine had half turned, and Virginia thought that she might storm out as she had done so many times before. But she was not finished with Virginia today, it seemed. "Do you remember, girl, when you were small? I used to come into your room, late at night and I would rub the fur from my coat against your cheek. Did you think, then, that I loved you?" she began, her hand absently stroking the collar of her robe. Virginia did indeed remember, but she dared not say so. The Queen continued to ramble aloud. "Of course, it was the fur that I loved. There's a certain feeling one get's with wearing furs. It gives you a sense of power, over beasts, over nature. Now, I wear the fur that you once loved. Do you ever think that I will make the mistake and seek your love?" she said, rubbing now the ruff that lined the collar of the robe. Virginia was puzzled. She had never owned a fur coat, had she? Just then, the sun that had been hidden behind the clouds peeped through the high window, lighting up the gloomy dungeon. The rays lit up the silvery gray tail of fur that graced the neck of the Queen's new gown.
Virginia screamed aloud in horror at the sight. She thrashed in the tepid water, fighting a terrible drowning sensation, even though a tiny, rational part of her mind shouted out that she was in the water-mirror, and had been for some time. She would not drown here. Her screams faded to sobs, each one forming a small bubble that made it's way to the surface far overhead. The dungeon cell, the bars, her mother and her son had all faded away as if they had never existed. But they had existed, hadn't they? Virginia closed her eyes, giving her mind a space in which to settle itself. After a few minutes she grew calm again, although her skin still crawled with the images she had seen. Her own mother, an evil Queen now of all the Kingdoms. That was what would have happened had Virginia not sliced her throat with the poisoned comb that day. Christine, pale and gloating, snatching her own grandson from his mother, making every effort to mould him into her future successor whilst Virginia lingered under his toddling feet. Christine, who had made for herself a nice new gown, with Wolf's own tail to grace her collar. Virginia could scarcely imagine such cruelty in anyone, much less her own mother.
"Do you see now, how close the peoples of this land came to suffering and ruin?". The voice was Coventina's, but Virginia did not startle, as she had sensed the approach of the Goddess. She could see flowing silver robes billowing in the warm water, but the face of the deity remained hidden. It didn't matter. Virginia had not the heart for such a sight right now.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"It is a thing that must be done, Virginia, if you are to fulfill your destiny in this world". Virginia felt chilled at the Goddess' words. And angry.
"I don't want any 'destiny', other than loving my man and raising my child in peace! Pick someone else if you so desperately need a sacrificial virgin!"
"So said Snow White once, long ago. And Gretel the woodsman's daughter. Rapunzel, Cinderella, many others have stood before me and my sisters and pleaded much the same case. In one way or another, each experienced this same awakening, these same trials. Each prevailed over their adversaries, Virginia..."
"And lived happily ever after" Virginia cut in, knowing the truth of the words. She took a deep breath, strange that she could do so even underwater, and kicked for the surface. When she broke the surface, she paddled over to the edge and hauled herself out. Water ran off her bare skin, running down and back into the mirror. Someone had left a soft towel draped over her belongings, close to a simply wrapped hamper of food. Virginia took her time in drying off and dressing, certain now that she would not be enjoying the next revelations and keen to put it off for as long as possible. She lingered over the sweet bread and good cheese, washed down with clear apple juice. Her stomach rumbled appreciatively, and she had to admit she felt much better for the food. Afterwards she lay back to think about what she had seen in the mirror. Replaying all the events, her mind kept coming back to something Coventina had said. Snow White and her contemporaries had all passed through similar trials on their way to greatness. And victory over their enemies. One aspect of that thought was comforting to Virginia. She was not alone. She was but following in their footsteps. The other aspect was less than pleasant. So, they had overcome those who wished them harm. So had Virginia once, and now she could see that she had made the right decision. But that only raised another question. Who, then, was Virginia's new adversary?
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For two nights the small party of goblin, human and half-wolfs had crept along the outer edges of the Ruby River as it wound it's way slowly through the countryside. It was a wide, deep watercourse, with steep banks broken often by low lying causeways and green fields supporting small communities. Wolf carefully parted the foliage of the tree he was hiding behind and gazed down on the sleeping village below. Few lights shone from the shuttered windows, attesting to the late hour, and none walked the cobbled streets. Well, no human's anyway. Wolf tensed as one of the shadows under the eaves of the most outlying house moved, slinking soundlessly out of the village. The town guardsman, no doubt well paid by his community employers, saw nothing, raised no alarm as Will all but passed within spitting distance of him. Wolf snorted softly in amusement, but then he was hardly surprised at the nonchalance of the guard. They were still well within a short ride of the great Hood City, after all. No one would expect wolfen people to show their faces this close to the capital and it's ever present garrison.
Will had done well, though, Wolf thought as his brother came trotting easily towards him. A small sack slung over his back wriggled invitingly in the pale light of the crescent moon, but Wolf restrained himself from jumping on it when Will came within reach. Further back in the trees waited Clayface and Elias and Wolf led the way back to them. No words were spoken as Will dumped the sack on the ground and emptied it's contents. Two fat chickens, trussed and gagged with twine tumbled out, along with half a loaf of bread and a good sized wedge of sharp cheese. Wolf gave the bread and cheese barely a nod. Will had brought them for Elias anyway, since the werewolf seemed unable to stomach raw meat and they dared build no fire. Clayface had his own rations of goblin food, which he had offered to share on many occasions, but both Wolf and Willem craved fresh meat. Wolf watched as Elias gathered his booty together with a quiet word of thanks to Will, withdrawing a little to stuff his cheeks. He did break off a portion to offer to the goblin, Wolf noted, but the little green man declined it.
A snapping sound came from the bushes and Wolf saw that one of the chickens had been removed already. He scooped up his own, admiring it's weight, before quickly breaking the birds neck as Will had just done. Wolf sat down to pluck the feathers with more patience than he thought he had, given how hungry he was. Silly little things, chickens, he thought. So much work to go through just for a couple of bites! Still, it couldn't be helped, not here anyway. The human population of Riding Hood Forest had evidently grown so much that just about every type of game had either been hunted out or moved on to quieter locales. Wolf hadn't seen a single deer track, nor boar or badger. Only a few spindly rabbits and tough hares. Rabbits were good eating, but they took time to hunt and catch, and Wolf didn't want to linger in these parts any more than the others did. Except maybe for Elias. He wandered along like it was an afternoon stroll in the gardens, with little regard for trying to move unseen, or silently. He had peppered Will with endless questions about the Kingdoms, the Riding Hoods, the towns and the people until Wolf felt fit to throttle him. But then, what would Elias have to fear, were they discovered or captured? He was a man, or at least he looked like one for a few more days at least. Wolf wondered if word of the huge devouring beast that had plagued the Disenchanted Forest nearly a month ago had reached as far north as here. He doubted it. What went on in other Kingdoms was rarely a topic for discussion in others. Wolf was undecided in whether or not he wanted the stupid humans of Riding Hood Forest to experience the carnage that Elias could bring them. His hand, bloodied from his chicken feasting, slid down his lower leg to the little secret concealed in his boot. He fingered it in the darkness, but he did not find the thing such a discomfort as he once had.
Wolf scraped out a little depression in the earth, using it conceal the feathers and bones from the chicken. The birds would be missed by morning, and Wolf didn't like the idea of travelling westwards with a pack of hounds on his trail. He heard his brother doing the same thing nearby, and as Will lead the party forward through the night, Wolf spent a good few minutes erasing all evidence of their being there. Satisfied, he followed his brother's scent to catch up with them as they forded a small tributary. The water was frigid and Wolf was glad it only reached to knee level. There would be a heavy frost come dawn. The rest of the night passed without incident, but as the early light glimmered over the horizon they heard the telltale sound of riders coming from behind. The half-wolf's sharp hearing allowed them to take cover well before they were overtaken, but it became obvious that these riders were not pursuants at all. The horses harness jingled with bells, and soft laughter reached their hiding spot. It was a good sized party, more than a dozen human's, men and women, but from the distance Wolf was holed up it was impossible to distinguish any particular individual. The group rode swiftly, the rich fabrics of their cloaks billowing in their wake. Wolf started at the distinct flash of red amongst the riders. So, a member of the Royal Family then, since they were the only one's allowed to wear that colour in this Kingdom. Probably a hunting party then, out for summer fattened game. Wolf smiled to think of how far this royal princeling would have to ride before he so much as spotted a rack of antlers. Within a minute, the group had disappeared from view, making their way up the valley. Will breathed in Wolf's ear.
"Did you see the red?" he asked, referring to the royal colour.
"Yes. Wonder which one it was" Wolf replied, though he didn't really care one way or another. Besides, the current Riding Hood Queen, the one named Scarlett, had many blood relatives and it could have been any one of them.
"This seems like a good enough place to spend the day" continued Will, dismissing the matter in much the same way. Wolf looked around them in the morning light, agreeing that they would be unlikely to find a better before full daylight. They settled themselves against the lee of a great boulder, gathering a supply of shrubby branches to further conceal themselves. Clayface and Elias settled almost immediately, drowsy within minutes. Wolf and Will divided the rest of the day between them to take turns in keeping a watch. It had been an unspoken agreement between the four of them that lookout duties should fall to the half-wolf's with their superior senses, but after two days of broken sleep, Wolf's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head. He propped himself up against a particularly rough spot of stone, trying to ignore the soft sounds of sleep around him.
About mid-morning he awoke with a start. Cursing quietly, he rubbed at his tired eyes. The subtle sound of a bell reached his ears. For a heart-stopping moment, he thought that the royal hunting party had indeed discovered them, but then he listened hard again. These were much larger bells, such as were used on cart and plough horses, and they were muted, as though wrapped in cloth. Just like gypsies did when they wanted to move without attracting attention. They were coming closer. Will woke then, and Wolf cautioned him with a look. But it was probably a pointless exercise. Gypsy folk were almost as good in woodcraft as wolf's. Their forward scouts had likely already spotted them. As if in answer to his thoughts, two male gypsies strode suddenly from two directions, surrounding them. Wolf stared at the men as closely as they studied him. Wolf didn't particularly like gypsies, but he knew that they rarely attempted to kill people out of hand. No, much better, to invite them back to camp, make friends with them, and then kill them.
One of the men pursed his lips thoughtfully. Will leaned to nudge the still sleeping Elias and the goblin. Both came awake with widened eyes, but Clayface sketched a small bow at the men.
"Hmm, two half-wolf's, a man, and goblin, all together and hiding. Sounds like an interesting story to be told" the gypsy said matter of factly. Wolf relaxed slightly, knowing that the gypsy appetite for story telling often outweighed their desire to slaughter their guests. Willem sprang into action. He stood warily, but smiling all the while at the gypsy men.
"Story telling, you say? Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Willem the Bard, most esteemed storyteller of all the Second Kingdom..." he began. Wolf gulped down his laughter. Willem the Bard? But the gypsies were impressed, he could tell.
"We have heard of you! Are you not kin with Lena's caravan?"
"Well, yes, through my..." Will began, but he was embraced suddenly by one of the men.
"Wonderful! Then you are kin with us as well! Come then, spend a spell with us, please!" he said, almost begging. Wolf thought the man's behaviour odd. Gyspies never said 'please' when asking for anything. It was suspicious, but he couldn't really say anything about it. Will was busy introducing Elias and Clayface, and then himself.
"And this is my brother, W...Lucian" he was saying, stumbling over the name. Wolf agreed with his brother's caution. The name 'Wolf' was all too well known in the Kingdoms, even amongst the intinerant gypsies. If the caravan that was now approaching guessed his true identity, they might either hound him to death with questions and story requests, or they could just as easily string him up and sell his hide to the highest bidder. One could never tell these days.