The Goblin Market (Into the Green) (29 page)

Once they were wed her belief would become truth, and there would be no turning back, even if she did eventually remember.

He could not remember a time in his life or a task he had taken on that had gone so splendidly, and in his favor with so little in the way of effort on his part.

The king felt good. No, not good. He felt jubilant, exhilarated, triumphant! His spirits were higher than they had been in centuries, and that made him feel like celebrating.

“Prepare the ballroom,” he called over his shoulder. “Prepare a feast.”

The sound of obedience scurried and clamored in every direction, but for once Kothar didn’t allow their tendency toward bumbling idiocy and foolishness ruin his mood. In a matter of hours he would have her company and intelligent conversation, and the fact that he had craved that very attention from her nearly all his life only to be shunned and discarded made the prospect all the sweeter.

“Tonight, we celebrate,” he announced, and muttered to himself, "and tomorrow, we wed."

*****

The continuous agony which throbbed in Meredith’s head was so profound that by the time the shadow of the palace fell across their path she did not think she would make it across the outer-gate bridge. It lay open, like a greedy mouth, she noticed, its fat tongue the lowered bridge that would carry them through to the castle doorstep

 She gazed up at the castle with wary, curious eyes and waited for the flash of familiarity to come crashing home. Was this castle not her home? If so, how was it that not a single stir of memory tickled inside her mind?

She crossed her arms, which were wet and itchy beneath the ruined fabric of her tunic. There was only a cold feeling in her chest, and an emptiness that seemed to echo every heartbeat back at her.

“Well.” She reached out and pushed her companion forward. “Go on then.”

Gorigast swallowed, an act that moved from his head and neck, all the way down to his feet. “Of c-c-course, Majesty.”

He stepped onto the platform and started walking, his slow, uncertain steps stumbling in their movement, one over the other.

Meredith watched him through squinted and distrustful eyes, thinking if she did not know any better her servant had as little experience with this castle as she did.

An unspoken, but certain will inside of her begged to move onward, to enter this castle because once she was there, she knew all the answers would unfurl like a banner in the wind and she would remember.

Uncanny silence and stillness clung to the air around them, begging her to reason she was being watched. She thought if she moved quickly enough, she might catch the skulking spy before it receded into the shadows again to mark her every move.

Her spooked servant glanced back at her over his bony shoulder, silently asking if she had sensed it to, but she ignored his frightened stare.

She pressed her face against the stone support pillars that marked the halfway point, the cool, damp surface providing momentary relief from the throbbing inside her head. Her stomach rolled and churned and she worried she might humiliate herself by becoming sick into the water below the drawbridge.

Underneath the bridge she heard the sluicing rush of scaly tales carving through the water as though whatever hideous thing inhabited the mote anxiously awaited her with open maw.

“Majesty,” her companion spoke. “Majesty, we must hurry.”

Meredith couldn’t imagine taking another step without her skull splitting open, but she nodded and picked up her feet again.

“Why can't I remember who I am?” She cried softly.

“Majesty…” he turned back around to call for her but then a commotion overpowered his rasping, meager voice.

Deep, echoing blasts, that mimicked trumpets with their raw, hideous blare, sounded from just beyond the gate, announcing her arrival and making her already splitting head feel as if it might explode.

“Ah, yes, at last!” It was a high, lovely voice that rang out from just ahead where the castle doors had opened wide to receive them. Waiting on the stairs was a strange, young thing with a twisted mask of a face—two black eyes peering out and a warm smile to greet her. “There she is. There she is. The guest of honor has finally arrived.

“The guest of honor?” Meredith muttered those words to herself, rather than aloud.

“Our majesty and future queen has come home to us at last.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Meredith stood gaping at the twisted young woman hovering in the mouth of the dark castle. Much like her hope that the castle would jog her memory, she also prayed inwardly that the faces there would be familiar as well. She was sure, however, that she would not soon forget a face like the one that stood before her, and there was no pulse of memory—not even a flicker.

Have I been away for a long time then?" Meredith asked.

The twisted girl's sharp mouth and long nose snapped with the movement of her own bizarre merriment, as she threw back her head and laughed. Her distorted features stretched with the sound, as she said, "Why, Majesty, it seems you’ve been away from us forever.”

“Forever!” There was a shrieking mass of combined, feminine laughter from the crowd of attendants that gathered behind her. The ladies were all similarly distorted, with skin the yellowed-green of overwatered plant-life. They were lovely in morbid fashion, the misshapen element of their features, combined with the unique discoloration of their skin making them appear almost spritely.

“Oh Lunette!”The band of them surged forward with pawing hands to touch Meredith, most especially her still soggy clothing. Hollow-seeming, black eyes passed over her face, but inside those eyes was excitement and life.

“Now ladies.” The one called Lunette came forward to shoo them away. “Don’t crowd her Majesty when she’s only just arrived. Rowen, get ready the lady’s bath and Wendolyn, you must find the most spectacular gown for her to wear to the party.”

“Party?” Meredith asked as Lunette’s arm circled through hers and they began toward the castle’s gaping entrance.

No one paid any mind to her escort as they shooed her through the door and Lunette called out orders for each of the maids to carry out on behalf of their queen-to-be.

Though they rushed through the entrance, Meredith gave pause, often stopping against Lunette's tugging to try and get a look at the castle. It was a last feeble attempt to spark her memory, but much to her dismay nothing came rushing to the surface. It was a dark, despairing sort of place in grave disrepair. Great, wide cracks lined the walls, tapering into narrow fissures as they reached up, up, up and disappeared beyond the ceiling. She could feel the air leaking through from outside, and though it was not cold she imagined that come the long months of winter she would feel its chill.

It was a dark and awful place, and at the top of the stairs, just before Lunette drug her into the tower, Meredith saw a long shadow lingering there, watching, though she could not see him. She did not need to see the creator of that shadow to know it was a man. A strange sensation like tickling fingers along the edges of her tired mind woke inside of her.

Was it her king who waited at the top of the stairs to catch a glimpse of her? She craned her neck back over her shoulder, tried to twist in such a way that she could spy him there, but saw nothing.

A disappointed huff escaped her, and she shrank into the care of her ladies. She was exhausted as they ushered her around a winding staircase and into the solar tower where bathwater boiled in the fireplace and the already half-filled, wooden cooper’s tub steamed nearby.

Before Meredith could even utter a single word of protest Lunette and another of the weird-faced maidens stripped her of her soggy tunic and breeches with desperate, almost craving hands. They helped her into the vaporous tub of oil-scented water. Another maid poured a boiling ladle in behind her and Meredith gasped as droplets of the near-scalding liquid splashed against her skin.

“Do be careful, Pipkin,” Lunette scolded. “This is our queen, and he will not be pleased if his bride comes to him scarred by your foolishness, and I am more than sure the lady herself will not react kindly to so senseless a mistake.”

“Do beg pardon, mum?” Pipkin bowed before Meredith and then rushed back through the bustling solar.

Bride?

Masked in the steam that swirled around her, that word evoked a nervous itch inside Meredith.

At least she'd made sense of the lack of memory she felt. If she were not already queen of this place, she'd have no need to remember the castle, or the people within it. That made sense enough, but where had she come from, and under what circumstances? Why would she ever want to be queen of such a dark and dreadful castle?

Was her father a king? Had he given away her hand in peace, or to merge two great families?

Her hand splashed down on top of the water like a child throwing a tantrum. Why did she have no memory of the past, save for her name?

“There you are now, my lady,” Lunette pressed her back in the tub so that her body reclined almost against her will. “Relax and lay your troubles away." Her soft hand smoothed Meredith's hair away from her face, and Lunette twisted her head in that bizarre, yet soothing smile. "Let old Lunie take care of you now."

"What of my escort? Where is he?"

"I'm sure he's been welcomed into the servant's quarters and offered a hot bath as well, Lady."

*****

But Gorigast had not been welcomed by anyone. After they rushed Meredith off into the castle, the old elf stood outside the closed doors, fretting and waiting for his king to appear. He had no idea what would come of him now.

He had done Kothar's task, brought the girl to the castle and though he could not take credit for The Hunter's demise, The Hunter was out of the picture, nevertheless.

Would he still be rewarded?

In the beginning, the notion of recapturing his lost youth thrilled him. While setting out to take on the task, delusions of virility and adventure circled and danced around his tired old brain like water sprites in a furious and excited ballet. He would finally be strong enough to conquer the Wald and set out to find his lost kingdom again.

But then he'd looked upon her face, both fair and naïve, innocent in the most desperate sense of the word, and she'd trusted him almost immediately. She laid her life and the life of her beloved companion in his hands, and though try as he might to put her trusting face out of his mind, it was burned into his memory now and his heart was heavy with guilt.

Seeing her as she was on the banks of the Nether Lake destroyed his hopes, and dashed any thoughts he might have of being rewarded with his youth. What Kothar was doing to her was wrong, but what could a useless old creature like Gorigast do to make it right?

Inside the castle, he heard the booming voice of his king calling out commands. Something about preparing the ballroom and seeing that the food was edible. Gorigast shrank back into the shadow of the drawbridge, forgotten for the moment by his cruel majesty now that the lady was in the castle. Kothar would not soon remember the old elf, or his promise to restore his youth, and though that notion should have riled him with anger, instead it gave him an idea.

He must help his lady. He saw with his own two eyes the life and beauty she'd restored to the Wald with her presence alone. He wouldn't be surprised if all of that beauty faded and died off just as quickly as it had sprouted from the earth now that her mind was hidden inside the tragic shell of everything that happened.

Gorigast didn't know what he could do to make things right again, but maybe he could return to the Nether Lake and somehow help The Hunter. The Hunter would know what to do and how to save her.

"I'll help you, Majesty," he whispered, slinking even deeper into the shadows, and retreating toward the bridge."Old Gorigast will make it right again."

*****

Lunette coiled a gentle hand around Meredith's upper arm and helped her from the fragrant tub. She wrapped her in soft linens from head to toe, and then steered her across the room. Colorful tapestries hung on the solar walls to keep the damp at bay, from time to time shivering as they caught the breath of wind that snuck through the cracks in the castle walls.

They passed by an elaborately dressed bed layered in luxurious furs and blankets that called to her. It was a thick, feather mattress from the looks of it, and she felt herself drawn toward it until Lunette pulled her toward the vanity table and mirror.

Meredith stood in front of a full-length, oval looking glass, wrapped in soft towels. She studied her own reflection, wishing her memory would magically rush back at her so the world made sense. The bustling of the women carrying out her every unspoken whim was a distraction, and when Lunette appeared behind her in the mirror, laying a comforting hand on her arm, Meredith jumped a little.

"There, there, my lady," she began to rub the towel briskly against Meredith's skin, the goose bumps resisting the warm friction. "You've suffered a nasty bump to your head, I see, but it'll be all right."

Merry looked down at the hand on her arm and closed her eyes to refuse the tears filling them. "I don't remember who I am."

"Oh, hush," Lunette said. "You're our lady, and tomorrow you will be our queen. That is all you ever need to know."

"Is he a good man," she asked, "this king I am marrying?"

"You will make him a better man. I know it in my heart."

Meredith tried to smile, but the movement was scarce upon the surface of her lips. They hardly twitched, and she opened her eyes again to search Lunette's reflection for comfort.

"And tonight, he will charm you, and sweep you off your feet. Be sure of that." Lunette's wide black eyes squinted before she winked, and patted Meredith shoulder. "And all will feast this night, as it is a night for great merrymaking and joy! We have long awaited your arrival here, and the king has declared a masquerade in your honor."