The Queen's Curse (13 page)

‘Don’t tell me you don’t like that, Artride. You of all people
are craving more, and together
—
’

‘Shut your face!’

He breathed heavily, but did not stop. ‘That’s your reason for wanting to get rid of the curse; your only true reason so you can make your own rules! To have control at last! But I understand –’ He tried to get up, but she kicked his weakened body to the forest floor again. She knew ways to disarm men; she had had lessons as well.

Her head was clear now and although her hands trembled, she felt incred
ibly numb.

‘Do not talk to me like you know me
,’ she sounded icily.

In a rapid moment, she felt a hand grabbing her ankle and she was pulled off balance. Volmer was on top of her and tr
ying to strangle her with his big hands; however, she was still holding the knife. Without thinking, she stabbed him firmly in the back, and his face turned red from anger and pain. The blade was not that long, nevertheless it did enough damage to loosen his grip a little. He tried to reach it, but she was quicker and pulled it out in one rapid movement, only to stab him fully in the belly this time.

His stare was full of disbelief when he looked at her and at the knife planted deeply in his gut. The blood started seeping out abundantly
, and when he gazed up at her, his eyelids became weary.

‘Oops, it seems like I didn’t aim for the heart!’ she said cynically and slid from underneath him
, trying to get away from his heavy body and the blood in disgust.

He opened his mouth to say something, but blood seeped out and his pupils
turned small from pain. He reached for her but the next moment dropped dead to the floor. The only sound she heard was, ‘Punishhhhhhhhhh.’

Hastily she got up, staring at the sky above her whispering, ‘Forgive me
Father.’ And then left the scene to walk over to the lifeless body of Tirsa Lathabris.

CHAPTER
5

She is gone and my heart can bleed no more

I am as a shell with no living thing within

I am as one demented, lost in a shadowed world.

Celtic poem

She had never taken a life before; and in another situation she would have been appalled. But now, other than shaking uncontrollably, her feelings were overcome with grief and anger.

Drained, bloody and muddy
, Artride fell down on her knees next to the motionless body of her companion. She looked asleep and at peace, stretched out on her back, but with her eyes wide-open and emerald green, like gems. But there was no one home anymore. Only the arrow sticking out of her chest looked out of place. Her broken chain mail hadn’t protected her at all. Tirsa lay in a pool of her own darkened blood.

It was wrong, all wrong.

She moved her shaky hand to touch the shaft, closing her fingers around the feathers, squeezing her eyes shut, and pulling it out with one quick pull. Without looking she fiercely threw it away.

When opening her eyes she stared at the bloody wound
, which left her gasping for air. For a moment Artride thought Tirsa was still alive, because blood was running out slowly; but she quickly realised the blood was just leaving the body. She placed her hands on the wound, trying to cover it; trying to keep the blood inside in a vain attempt to still save her.

Tears rolled down her dirty cheeks when she realised it was futile. She stretched her hand out to remove the helmet and caressed her blond wet hair, remembering how the sun had shone on it and how the wind used to play with the loose strands.

‘No, it cannot be over. No …’
It didn’t even begin.
And she grabbed the dead knight’s upper body and held her tight; rocking her like a baby, her limp head had fallen down against her chest. She screamed uncontrollably and wept.

After a few moments she cried, ‘It is all my fault. I should never have asked you to come along with me.
I should have listened to you; you were right about people following us and it not being safe, and the chance of reaching Dochas unhurt small. And I should have taken better precautions against those two mad men. You would still be alive then. I am so sorry Tirsa … so sorry.’ And new tears appeared in her eyes; mixing with the blood, rain and dirt on her face.

After some time, she laid her back carefully and kneeling next to her jammed at her own running eyes. She wouldn’t let go
… couldn’t.

A single beam of sunlight shone across the floor
, breaking through the evaporating clouds, sparkling on the wet mulch and needles scattered about, but Artride didn’t notice. More clouds left and more sunlight managed to get through, bathing the trees, plants and rocks in its heavenly warmth. Sunlight shone on her quavering back and long wet braid of black hair; but she didn’t feel it.

One sunbeam
, however, moved across Tirsa’s body, moving back and forth. That got her attention. The beam of light seemed to explore the body. Artride blinked her eyes and looked again.

Just above the body appeared a bright pure white light and Artride stared in amazement at it. The light seemed to transform into a figure; a transparent white woman with hair so long that Artride thought she was dressed with those strands. But when she looked closer she saw it was a long white dress covering her tranquil figure. The fine-looking woman stepped lightly between Tirsa’s body and Artride.

‘Hello Lady Artride,’ a calm, pleasant voice announced.

She was too stunned to respond
– even to ask how she knew her name, and remained seated.

‘I am sorry to frighten you. I am here to help.’

She glanced back at lifeless Tirsa, not wanting to be disturbed really; not even by a white divine woman. ‘Are you an angel of death coming to take Tirsa? How is that helping me?’ she asked bluntly. The woman smiled a sad smile. ‘No, my dear lady. That would do you no good. Usually when I speak of help, I mean help.’ And she came a little closer. Artride shook her head, bewildered. ‘How?’ her voice cracked.

‘I represent life and death
, and I am a guide between the worlds. Only those who are just born and those who pass away know who I am. Well, here in Dochas that is. Out there you probably have a different delegation. They call me a goddess and I think that should honour me. But mostly gods represent certain aspects in life; things that need an explanation in the mind of higher creatures. Gods; except for the Higher Spirit, are created to guide and to be worshipped and bring steadiness into people’s lives. I am not created, however, although many cultures worship us guides, more or less. I merely exist, whether people believe in me or not, and am therefore as real as you are. Except that my body is of a different substance; but do not let that disturb you.’

Artride tried to think about her words, but they confused her
; she couldn’t seem to think clearly. The woman noticed and added concerned, ‘All you need to know right now is that I can help you.’

‘Help me? I do not need help. If you were here earlier
… but now … now is too late. Not even my healing skills could have brought her back. She is gone.’ Her throat felt thick as her eyes rested on Tirsa’s body again, and she continued weeping.

The woman laid an emphatic hand, which felt strangely real, on her shoulder.

‘You care about her,’ she said with feeling. Her eyes were dark pools, but clear like a moonlit night sky and her body seemed to glow from within.

‘A
… lot.’ Only, she wished she had said that to her while she was still alive.

‘Your soul is pure and good, but troubled, torn and weary from secrecy and immobility.’

Artride didn’t dare to meet her strange eyes again.
It’s like she is reading my soul.

‘I just have to ask you one thing
, in order to try and bring her back.’

Now she did look up. ‘Bring her back? Is that possible?’

‘You are in Dochas, my dear. Almost anything is possible here as long as you believe in it. Remember that.’

‘I forgo
t.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Even with this wound?’

‘In your world it would not be possible, no. Here it is a different matter.’

‘Magic?’ as she remembered she was indeed in the Magical Land now.

The woman nodded.

Hope returned into the queen’s heart and silent tears rolled down her cheek, falling on the wet grass.

‘Can I help?’ she sniffed. ‘I would give anything to bring her back.’

‘I believe you.’ And she stared at length at the body of Tirsa and sighed. ‘Because I haven’t known her from the day of her birth, for she was not born here and I am after all the Guide of Dochas, it might prove to be complicated. However, not impossible. Can you tell me a little bit about her; what she is like; her past, her personality, her dreams, hopes, anxieties, passions. I have to know to be able to find her door and pathway, in order to bring her back.’

Artride blinked a couple of times and swallowed hard before she started to tell all she knew about Tirsa Lathabris
, and what she had learned during their short time together. She had to trust her.

‘That should be enough, but Artride, I have to be honest with you
… it might not work. It is possible she has found her peace and does not want to come back.’

‘Why would she not want to come back?’ That did not make any sense to her.

The white woman only stared at her and didn’t reply. In her heart Artride had some idea.

‘She loves Talamh, she loves life!’

‘I shall do my best, Artride. That is all I can do, my very best. I know what’s at stake.’

~ ~ ~

It all had happened so quickly. Was she down? What was this terrible pain exploding from within her chest; numbing her, weakening her?

She felt so heavy. Why did everything around her suddenly turn so small and meaningless?

Tirsa felt herself rise, being lifted by an unknown force. She looked down upon a body covered in blood, with an arrow sticking out of its chest. It took her some time to comprehend she recognised it; it was her own lifeless body. But it did not matter. It was as if she had voluntarily joined the warmth around her; more comfortable than any warmth she had ever felt before. And she felt free; free from pain and darkness. She was lying in her mother’s arms; singing to her. She felt so loved and safe. Next, she was listening to her beautiful fairy tales and she was feeling so grateful. The next moment she was strolling on the moors with both her parents and sister; listening to her making up her own stories; truly listened at and cared for. She played the pebble game with her sister and together they laughed. As she had both laughed and cried the day her brother was born; he looked so fragile and helpless. She felt so much love radiating from her family; a feeling she had almost forgotten. She was not alone.

Then she was floating
…There was a light; brighter than the sun, but less painful when you looked straight into it. She was bathing in this light that seemed to heal her wounded spirit. It felt so good. And all was more vivid than any dream she had had before.

The light she dwelled in appeared to contain many colours. Colours so marvellous, almost too much for her comprehension; mixing and blending, growing and fading; circles of a pastel yellow turning in a warm energetic orange
; a deep violet purple surrounded by soothing blue shades, and the green shades were such a comfortable green. She immediately felt at home.

She breathed in so much peace and love, trust and strength; she forgot all about her worries, fears, anything connected to her past or her future. There was only here and now. No thoughts, memories about any darkness any more.

The green dissolved with the other colours and made way for a dark turquoise tunnel; she instinctively knew she had to follow. Somehow it all seemed familiar.

She easily flowed into the tunnel that gently guided her forward to the brighter light; which seemed to be the source of it all.

Returning home finally – something she longed for her whole life.

Slowly she began to notice vague figures like smoke aside of her; staring at her, all smiling with such warmth and love. She could not recognise the faces at the beginning of the tunnel, but wh
en she came closer to the light, she began to finally see faces that were somehow familiar. People she knew were her long lost friends and relatives, grandparents, aunts, people who looked vaguely like her mother, her father … but mostly persons she had never personally met.

But then gradually she came across an endless
, lovely hilly meadow, with thousands of colourful flowers spread about, and countless beautiful butterflies. Ultimate happiness filled her soul when she breathed in the scenery. The air was sweet with a flower scent like jasmine.

The road seemed to end and more people dwelled here; smiling at her, opening their arms for her. Among soldier friends who had died during battle, she recognised a bright one who came walking, or rather floating, towards her. She knew instinctively the kind features of her father; exactly how he had looked, only better and brighter. Shining so bright like a star
, so that she almost couldn’t see his features. She remembered her happy times with him, and his brutal murder included. Even her revenge had not taken away the pain.
Dead, he was dead!

She felt herself jump both from joy and grief and a sudden realisation that this all could not be a dream after all: she had never dreamt so vividly about him before. It had to be the Afterlife and all those people souls who had died.
But they seem so alive …
Why had she not trusted what she knew?

‘Daddy?’ she called out and he just nodded at her, but didn’t come close.
Why not?

He pointed silently at her tunnel still behind her; somehow she thought it would close after her. It remained open though, as if it was waiting for her.
Why?

And then in answer she saw his face turning, and she followed his gaze
, which rested on her lost friend and lover Mabel. At this sight she cried out; but her voice sounded more like a melody than her voice, and the place where her heart had been felt warm and overflowing with love.

She looked just like she remembered her, only a little vaguer and more transparent; her ebony half
-long hair waving around her on the soft breeze, her round face, with a few freckles on her nose and rosy cheeks, her impudent pink mouth and her vivid amber eyes sparkling with love and recognition. Only the knight’s clothes she wore brought Tirsa brutally back to the day of her cruel death. That all seemed so awfully long ago; and she remembered that pain all too well; and now that Mabel was standing right in front of her; intact and smiling without a care in the world, Tirsa didn’t understand how she ever could have dealt with the separation death had caused. But it did not matter now, that was over. She was back.

My love, so soon?
It even sounded like her voice too, and her voice was the only sound she could hear.

They hugged each other closely, holding one another tightly; only to part to look at the other again.