Queen Mab (20 page)

"Will you provoke me?"  Romeo pulled out his rapier.  "Then have at thee, boy!"

He was met by Paris's on the first stroke.  They sped about the courtyard, steel flashing as each played a deadly game.

"Put down your weapon!" Mab cried out, but neither paid her any heed.

Perhaps it was because their ears were filled with the whisperings of another.

A haunting tune played upon the pan pipes sang across the stones, trapping them in the dance, keeping time with the beats of their swords.  Mab looked over.  There Faunus sat dressed in the clothes of Balthasar, conducting this bloody tarantella.

"Let them leave, and in leaving live to see another day!" begged Queen Mab.

But still Faunus played on until the tune built to a crescendo, and with a final thrust, Romeo's sword found its home in Paris's broken heart.

Faunus stopped, laughing as Romeo crumpled, destroyed by what he had done.

"Why, Faunus?" Mab asked as she watched Romeo look disbelievingly upon the fallen Paris, coming to terms that he had killed again.

"The night shall be mine," Faunus whispered.

"Your days are just as dark.  Why do you seek the shadows when the acts that play out best without light you commit just as proudly in the day?"

Romeo lifted Paris and took him into the tomb.  Queen Mab tried to follow, but Faunus stood in her way.

"The House of Montague and all its kin are under my protection.  I will not have your meddling," he taunted.

"You destroy his House and protect him not!  Let me save his life!"

Faunus grabbed Mab and threw her to the floor.  She got up, her anger fearsome and her rage that of a queen.  She pointed her rosewood wand and blasted Faunus, but with light steps, he danced from the danger.  Mab ran into the tomb.  The light of Romeo's torch was close.  Juliet's tomb was within sight.  But then a terrible blow struck the back of Mab's knees.  She fell, the stone floor rattling her bones.  Faunus was at once upon her back.  She knew no help would come as he cloaked them both in magicked secrecy.  Her legs tangled in her skirts.  She struggled and cried and tried to get away as she watched Romeo take his beloved's hand.

Romeo wept. "O my love!  My wife!  Death that has sucked the honey of your breath has had no power yet upon your beauty.  You are not conquered.  Crimson is still in your lips and cheeks.  Death's pale flag is not there.  Ah, dear Juliet, why are you yet so fair?  Shall I believe that death is amorous and keeps you here to be his paramour?  I will not let him have you.  I will stay with thee and never from this palace of dim night depart again.  Here, here will I remain with the worms that are your chambermaids."

Mab drew upon her strength, upon the power of the daylight she had long since been denied, and willed that Juliet awake as if the sun was rising, that she abandon the dreams where she lay and see the morning was upon her. 

But even as she spoke her magick, Faunus drove Juliet deeper into sleep so that she could not see as her husband withdrew a poisonous vial.

"Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace!  And, lips, O you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death!"  Romeo leaned over and kissed Juliet, his tears baptizing her before raising his glass.  "Here's to my love!"

"No!" cried Mab.  But her words would not be heard.

Romeo coughed.  "O true apothecary!  Thy drugs are quick. Thus, with a kiss, I die."

Mab ceased her fighting as Romeo exhaled his last and fell onto the floor.

Defeat rang as clearly as a church bell, its toll unmistakable and true.  No hand upon the clapper would change that the hour had come.

Faunus laughed quietly in her ear. "The fall of Montague is complete."

Shuffling feet came from the entrance, the windowless dark masking the horrors from the sputtering light of Romeo's dying torch. 

Friar Laurence stepped into the tomb, blind to the demigods that lay there among the dead.  He tripped upon the hem of Mab's dress and cursed, "Have my old feet stumbled at graves? Who's there?"

Faunus replied in Balthasar's voice, "Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well."

Friar Laurence replied with gladness, "Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, whose torch is that?  It is so dim, I can barely see the Capulet's tomb." 

"It belongs to my master and one you love.  There he lies, one young Romeo."

Friar Laurence rushed forward, and then called back when Balthasar did not follow.  "Come!  Go with me into the vault!"

With a vise like grip, Faunus lifted Mab.  She no longer had the spirit to struggle.  He dragged her back and they retreated into the dark recesses of the tunnels, among the ancient graves of those who died when Faunus and Mab first began their game.  "I dare not, sir.  My master threatened me with death if I looked upon his intents."

"Stay then.  I'll go alone."

Faunus looked down at Mab as he called out to the Friar.  "I dreamt my master and another fought and that my master slew him."

The Friar ran forward, seeing the bloody streaks of Paris's crimson life upon the ground, his corpse discarded before Juliet's tomb.  He saw the young Montague slumped lifelessly by his true love's grave. "Romeo!" he cried in anguish.

It was then that the fair Juliet stirred, her breath returning and her eyes fluttering to take in the world.  As Juliet woke, stretching in her bed, the letter from the Friar for Romeo still burned in Mab's pocket. 

Juliet turned to the Friar and asked, "Where is my love?  Where is my Romeo?"

The Friar did not answer, instead looked at the entrance in fright.  "I hear a noise!  Come!  A greater power than we can contradict has thwarted our intentions.  It was written in the stars that you two may only be together in dreams.  Come away!"

He tried to drag Juliet from her tomb, but she would not go, so Friar Laurence pointed to the shapes strewn throughout the room.  "Your husband is beside you and lies there dead.  And Paris, too.  Come.  I shall take you to a convent where you may be hidden from harm and kept safe for the rest of your days."

Mab stirred from her state, remembering the vision of a knife in Juliet's chest. She threw Faunus off her and made another desperate leap to reach the tomb, but he captured her up again, clamping his hand over her so that she could not speak or move. 

The Friar heard the noise, though, and said, "We dare no longer stay."

Juliet pushed his helping hand away.  "Go.  Get thee hence.  I shall not depart."

Friar Laurence scurried off, leaving Juliet with none but the dead to keep her company.

Juliet climbed out of her stone casket and knelt by the body of her husband.  Gently, she let her fingertips memorize the features of her beloved, ran her fingers through his hair of gold, over his skin so pale and still.  She then looked down and saw the means by which he had met his end.  "What's here?  A cup closed in my true love's hand?  Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end."  She pressed her body close to him, clasping his head to her heart, as the tears of grief fell from her eyes.  "You have drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips.  Perhaps some poison yet does hang on them."  Her mouth lingered upon his hungrily, knowing this would be her last taste, before observing in sad wonder, "Thy lips are warm."

A watchman called from outside the tomb.  "Lead, boy!  Which way?"

Juliet looked back in fear, knowing that if they found her, they would force her away.  "Yea, noise?  Then I'll be brief."  She pulled a knife from Romeo's belt and held it to her breast.  "O happy dagger!  This is thy sheath!" 

Mab saw now that all her power as queen was nothing compared to the will of the gods.  She was a fool to think she could ferry these children away from the fate written in the stars.  Mab wept as the vision she had seen for fifteen years came to pass.  Juliet took the dagger and, without hesitation, she stabbed it straight into her heart. She gasped as the blood poured out.  She leaned against Romeo as if for strength, so that his touch would be the last sensation she ever would know.  She looked at her husband, at her true love's face and smiled at him through the pain. "There rust, and let me die."

As all fell to silence, Faunus whispered in Mab's ear, "A century's old game has finally come to an end.  And that note you carry undelivered is all the proof that Juno needs.  You are guilty of this destruction.  Your weapon?  A simple slip of paper which could have prevented this fall.  One hundred years of planning and I have finally won, Queen Mab."

He removed his hand from her mouth.  Mab asked only one question. "But why?"

"Are you too besotted to see?  Then the secret, Queen Mab:  your rule and kingdom are merely the spoils of war as I march to take my place at Jupiter's side.  But even ruling the heavens does not compare to the true victory I seek: your complete and utter destruction.  For I despise thee."

Queen Mab wept no more.  "I know."

Faunus looked at her strangely.  Unafraid, strong, Queen Mab met his eyes.

Paris's page ran into the room, leading the way for Prince Escales, followed by Lord and Lady Capulet, and the watchman. 

The prince turned to the page.  "What misadventure is so early up, that calls our person from our morning's rest?"

Lord Capulet asked him, "What should it be that they so shriek abroad?"

Lady Capulet said, "The people in the street cry Romeo, some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run with open outcry toward our monument."

The watchman pointed.  "Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; and Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, warm and new killed."

The prince commanded, "Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes."

Faunus rose, releasing Queen Mab.  "My role in this play is not quite done.  Watch and see the final act."

Faunus picked up the discarded iron which Paris had brought into the tomb and stepped before the watchman as he ran about.  The watchman grabbed Faunus, now Bathasar, by the arm and thrust him forward into the light.  "We found him with instruments fit to open these dead men's tombs."

It was at that moment that Lord Capulet fell to his knees.  "O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!"

Shuffling feet echoed in the chamber and Lord Montague, a man who looked like he could bear no more, entered.

The prince took his arm to brace the tottering man.  "Montague, you come alone?"

Lord Montague shook his head.  "Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight.  Grief of my son's exile has stopped her breath.  What further woe conspires against me?"

"Look, and you shall see."

Trembling and broken, Lord Montague wailed as he saw his son.  He bent down and clutched him to his chest. "Oh unschooled child.  Have you no manners?  To push before your father to the grave?"

The prince placed his hand upon his shoulder.  "Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while.  Let us learn what has happened here.  Bring forth the parties of suspicion."

Another watchman entered the tomb with Friar Laurence as his prisoner.  Bravely, the Friar stepped forward and stated, "I am the one to blame."

The good holy man then went to explain the tale of these two lovers, husband and wife, and how two House’s hate drove them to such ends.  He spoke of their meeting and marriage, their happy plans, and how the fates took hold of this star-crossed love and chose to unite them in the world beyond since the world here was unworthy of their unity.

The prince looked at the Capulets and Montagues and said, "See what a scourge is laid upon your hate?  All are punished."

The last of Lord Capulet's pride was destroyed, and with the pride, the fall, and so the House of Capulet crumbled. The contract was broken and Mab had failed.  That which bound her to the Capulets was gone.

And with the breaking, so returned the price that Lord Capulet had paid in full.  From Mab's body, she felt his kindness pour, returning to his spirit a gift without measure.

It settled down upon him like the embrace of a lover who could find a hideous faerie queen beautiful, wrapped itself about him like a cold queen who had found herself able to love unconditionally and be loved in return.

Lord Capulet reached out to his enemy and said, "O brother Montague, give me thy hand.  It is my daughter's dowry, no more can I command."

And his enemy, overrun with grief looked at Lord Capulet and felt the kindness which had been so long away, felt that seed of an ancient friendship which was thought to have been destroyed.  In the grieving heart of a phoenix's ashes, that kindness found its root and Lord Montague replied, "But I can give thee more.  I will raise her statue in pure gold.  For as long as Verona lives, there shall be no woman known more true and faithful as this, our Juliet."

The tears streamed down the two fathers' cheeks, Lord Capulet wrapped his hand around his sworn enemy's and declared, "As rich shall Romeo's statue be and by his lady's lie.  And from this day forth, it shall be known that these two loves were terrible sacrifices of our enmity!"

The Prince spoke the words that their heavy hearts would carry to the end of their days.  "A glooming peace this morning brings.  The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head.  Go to talk more of these sad things, for never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo."

Under the Prince's watchful eye, arm-in-arm, the two families left the tomb, united after a century apart, in their grief.

Strangely, though, the Prince did not leave.  Indeed, he still stood, and when the last footstep was heard upon the stone, he looked upon Mab with eyes that pierced the veil of dreams and nodded.  "And so both the House of Montague and Capulet rise to greatness once again."

The prince's trappings faded away and he turned into a goddess with terra cotta curls.

Balthasar's disguise faded, too, leaving Faunus standing there enraged.  He brayed at Juno, "Rise to greatness once again?  Goddess Juno, call justice down upon Mab's head!  She cannot be allowed to abide in this fair city in light or dark!"

"I shall not abide two hearts not in love to be bound in unholy matrimony to play out the politics of a fallen House!" Queen Mab replied in deadly earnest.  "Better to be in death's embrace than to be confined to the embrace of a love that is not true."