The Queen's Curse (14 page)

Tirsa would have wept if she had eyes to cry with, but now that she was all soul, all eyes and ears
, she glowed all over, feeling so much – as well as pain in her soul. But without the body having to deal with all those raging emotions, it felt very odd indeed. To look in her eyes again was all Tirsa had ever wanted, and now that she had her back she would never leave. Mabel sensed that and took her hand daintily in hers. It felt strangely warm; nothing like the cold hand she had felt when she passed away, and somehow thought she still would have felt.
Don’t think about that.
Mabel had spoken, but without opening her mouth.

‘How can I not? I saw you die. You’re dead.’

Do I look dead to you?

Tirsa smiled at her and she glimpsed at her own hands, feet and legs, just how they looked like when she was alive; not much vaguer and she wondered
…

It gets hazier the longer you are here.

‘Like my dad …’

Yes, but do not worry, we never fade away
. Mabel spoke to reinsure her with a giggle she was used to.
We still have the image of our last body, that housed us; only to return to a new one later on. Then we, our souls, take on that new shape
.

Tirsa gazed around at the meadow, so lovely and so familiar.

This is our meadow …

How could she ever have forgotten?

That is necessary, Tirs. If we would remember this place completely;we would forget about our tasks on Talamh; always longing to go back
.

‘But I have somehow
…’ she found herself saying. ‘I have been here before haven’t I?’

Oh, yes. You have been here many times, like I have. Death is not the end. It is merely another phase in life; a stop in between. This place is a place to recover and to reflect on the li
fe you have lived. A place to learn, before you go to another field. There is no death; not like most people think. We don’t stay here though. Everyone, your true self, returns to the mundane world; Talamh, our mother. Over and over again; life after life, always changing and bettering ourselves. We are immortal Tirsa, like you always wanted, like your Windchildren.

...
Come back, Tirsa, you have got to come back
. A voice interrupted softly.

Tirsa stared confused into Mabel’s eyes; but it wasn’t her voice she had heard, in a singing fashion.

It looks like you have something to complete
.

‘But I just got here!’

Now you know I am never ever far away; distance does not exist here. Remember that and you will deal with the natural course of life better.

Tirsa tried to recall why she was suppose to go back. Nothing came to her; only her life with Mabel, as if all the rest was meaningless.

‘I tried to be strong, Mabel, but it was so hard living without you; dealing with all the fearful things around me, that didn’t seem to matter when you were there. The emptiness in my heart … Now that I’ve found you; I won’t let you go again, not again.’

Mabel looked frightened and Tirsa didn’t fathom, shaking her head.

It was my time, Tirsa. My tasks were completed, my life fulfilled. I had to go
.

‘You were killed by a soldier in a war! It was not a choice.’

It was my destiny. And therefore also linked to yours
.

‘What about us and who decides that anyway?’

I’ve never left your side. I have been watching you. You were starting to do better; ready to live again
.

Tirsa remembered what had made her want to live again.
Elimar …
and suddenly
she found herself back in the blue tunnel.

‘No, please let me stay with her!’ she panicked.

You are too early, Tirs. I’ve missed you terribly, but I have been trying to comfort you. Trying to stop you that moment you …
She paused for a moment. Yes, Tirsa remembered her suicide attempt all too clearly. It nearly cost her her job as well; not that she would have cared at the time. And now nothing mattered at all, or did it?

It would have been selfish to let it happen; all to have you with me again, but I was never far away. Time and space really do not exist between the worlds, once you comprehend that
... Her voice sounded soothing. Another knight had come in her room that day, and prevented her just in time from slicing her wrists. Mabel had sent that knight; a living angel.

‘I often had a feeling
… I felt your presence.’

Yes, I was there
…

…
Come back Tirsa. Come back to us.
It sounded very persuading now.

‘Who is that?’ she asked confused, but Mabel didn’t answer to her direct question, only said
:

You were the only one I’ve ever loved
, and I don’t think anyone ever loved me more than you did. With you I laughed and cried. Nothing could part us, but death … It was hard for me to accept that I couldn’t go back physically. Oh, how I wanted to!
Mabel sounded angry and her shape quivered
. Life is our goal, Tirs, not death! Never forget that. I didn’t have enough time to do everything I wanted, but you have. Use it well. We have to accept the fact I am here and you’re there. One day we will be together again. You’ll have to let go of me though ... Remember me before our separation; cherish those memories, but let me go. Now, you must go back; listen to that voice, follow it … They need you and you need them. Your chance is not over. Live your life. Time is precious. We will meet again, love, and until then … know
that I will never forget you, ever
…

Tirsa felt reluctant to leave; it was so placid here, but Mabel was fine
… while she had let herself wander in darkness, refusing to live, hiding in her pain, regret, guilt, refusing to go on, missing Mabel terribly; all the while Mabel was not really gone. She could have known; she had felt her, but she had been afraid; afraid to live without her and to rely on herself again perhaps; having no love and goal anymore. And now she had reminded her about her life on Talamh; a life Mabel had lost regretfully, but one Tirsa could have again. The green, luscious planet with all its creatures she loved so much and her life she had almost forgotten; harsh and mean as it could be, but also beautiful and full of wonderment. Where this world was perhaps only a shadow of – or the other way around
.

She had no special desire to go back, however
, Mabel was the proof of her former life. She understood everything she had said and didn’t question her; for a sense of all knowing suddenly overtook her.

‘Life is not the same without you, Mabel, and it never will be. There is this emptiness
–’

But you mustn’t throw your life away either. You have so much to offer; your love to give. You must let go of me; otherwise we both cannot go on. Follow your heart, Tirs
, and love will find you again. For love is the most important thing in our lives; to give and receive, that is one of the things I have learned. Without love no one will survive, including you. There are many who need you; more than you know
.

‘I could stay with you, couldn’t I?
’

Yes, if you desire so.

‘But I could go back as well …’

If there is still time. But she nodded
.

They embraced; soul to soul, pure and all-knowing. ‘Elimar needs my help and
… my queen, if it’s not too late.’ She clearly remembered Artride now and felt a warmth around her heart.

Mabel smiled warmly at her
, nodding in approval.
Then hurry Tirs; before your blood turns thick and your body too cold to return to. Hurry … I will be here waiting for you always …

Now that she gave in on the thought to go back
, she felt that she was pulled quickly backwards through the light blue tunnel. ‘I love you, Mabel!’
I love you.
Her voice sounded pleasant, but her image dissolved in the distance, becoming smaller and smaller.

Watch out for
… the woman of stone –
was the last thing she heard her say; before she started to fall with an enormous speed, making her dizzy. The beautiful colours faded and it became darker and darker … And then she came down and landed most painfully.

She could feel pain again; all over, and cold. So much feeling and so overwhelming, she felt nauseous. Her soul had fallen back harshly in
to her body; head first, feet last. She was back. Back in the darkness …

CHAPTER
6

There is no greater force than love,

And no greater quality than truth

Gaelic pronoun

A heartbeat
… blood being pumped persistently through veins; like a single stream after rainfall. Then silence. Another heartbeat, more rushing blood finding its way again, and a silence and then another, quicker rhythm and another, now more steady. The drum of life. Fresh blood rushing through veins, nourishing the organs, bringing them back to life. A sharp burning like a flame in her chest. Lungs wanting to be filled with air.

Suddenly a gasping sound; breathing? Trying to breath; filling lungs with cold moist air
– holding it, letting go, drawing more in and breathing out only to gasp for more. Tirsa never knew it could be so difficult; so measured and so … painful.

Coldness; frozen stiff arms and legs. Shaking, pins and needles; awakening tingling limbs, realising who she was and where, with closed eyes.

She felt a light pressure on her lips; a soft kiss, whispering. ‘Tirsa, please.’ It sounded familiar, but it wasn’t the same voice she had heard moments ago; only moments ago … back there, where? She tried to think, but her head felt so heavy. And the cold and the thirst so overpowering.

Her stiff muscles strained themselves and her whole body started to shiver and shake violently, uncontrollable; like a spasm.

Artride was so shocked and overwhelmed to see movement in Tirsa again; she wanted to cry out, but quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide open.

As quick as the shaking had come it had disappeared again; and Tirsa lay motionless again, yet silently breathing.

‘Tirsa?’ the queen’s quavering voice muttered and squeezed her hand to get a reaction; she removed the blanket she had placed on top of her from one of her saddlebags. Touching her chest she tried to feel for life inside. It slowly rose up and down, hopefully.

Artride started to weep o
ut of pure joy and bit her knuckles to feel she wasn’t dreaming.

‘You’re alive! By the
gods; alive!’

Tirsa heard her and tried to lift her heavy eyelids. She heard very clearly now; better th
an she ever did before, overwhelming her; the wind rushing through the leaves overhead and through the bushes, the grass. When she opened her eyes, she saw the splendour of bright sunlight on the fresh green canopy above her; the patterns of the leaves dancing carelessly in the tender movement of the wind. Greyish pink clouds were passing by and she smelled the scent of wet grass, mulch and leaves mixed with rain and … blood; death.

She remembered. She was one with all life now, truly. She knew her world was different from now on and would never be the same again.

She noticed a face staring at her patiently. The concerned face of Artride, blood and dirt stained.

‘My
… Lady?’

The
queen laughed and cried through her tears; covering her mouth, with such pure joy that Tirsa almost did not recognize her. It was a side of her until now unseen.

The colour was back on Tirsa’s face and the light in her eyes had returned, sparkling from within. It had been true; that white woman had not been lying and she actually succeeded. Artride realised this was probably the best moment in her entire life.

She softly embraced her companion. ‘Tirsa.’

Tirsa returned the gesture at last by putting her arms around the
queen’s neck.

‘Volmer?’ she asked with a dry throat. She felt Artride hug her closer and there was no worry in her voice when she announced,’ He is gone.’

Tirsa nodded and thought about the word ‘gone’, for she knew now that there was no such thing as ‘gone’.

‘How?’

Artride let go of her and smiled faintly, ‘In self-defence.’

She nodded slowly and returned her smile, a little worried. ‘I am glad he didn’t get you,’ and felt a wave of guilt when she thought about wanting to stay in the Afterworld. ‘I failed in protecting you.’

Artride’s smile faded. ‘No, don’t say that, Tirsa.’

‘He could have killed you.’

‘But he did not. You were the target, I was his aim. He wanted me alive, but you had to be killed.’

Artride’s tear-stung eyes examined her all over and rested at her torn bloody surcoat. She plucked on the broken chain mail and touched the healed skin between her breasts. The wound was closed without so much as a scar and only the blood was a silent reminder of the past hour.

‘There are no words to express how glad I am you are back, Tirsa.’

Tirsa smiled lightly and wiped the tears from the other woman’s face with one hand, noticing the bloodstains on her cheek and touching the dried blood questionably.

‘That is yours, not mine. Look.’ And she pointed at the hole in her clothes. ‘That’s where you have been hit. I had to pull the arrow out.’ Drowsily she glanced from the hole in her surcoat to the
queen.

‘But there is no wound?’

‘It’s healed and it was not my doing this time.’

Tirsa couldn’t fathom it. It just wasn’t natural.

‘You were dead, Tirsa and beyond my powers. A white lady who said she was some sort of guide called you back. I do not now how, but all I care about is that you’re back.’ And she glimpsed thoughtfully around. ‘I never even had a chance to thank her. I presume we shan’t be seeing her anymore.’ And looking at Tirsa she added, ‘But you must be exhausted, can you stand?’

Artride helped her up. Tirsa struggled, feeling weary and trembling on her legs. She saw the dead bodies of Gradolf nearby and that of Volmer further away. The air already stank of death.

Together they left the awful scenery, Tirsa leaning ashamedly on the queen for help, walking past the lifeless body of the faithful mount, Xaverius. Artride started to remove the saddlebags with her things and said goodbye. She hated to leave him there, but promised his soul to come back and give him a proper funeral.

‘He has no pain anymore
,’ Tirsa muttered and Artride had to swallow a knot away.

They walked about half a mile more before they found Tirsa’s mare, Fiosa; as if she was waiting.

‘Amazing.’ Artride sighed and watched Tirsa approach her horse carefully. Fiosa had her ears pricked backwards from fear. Clearly Tirsa stunk of death, but there was love in her brown eyes and when she rubbed her nose, softly muttering, the mare relaxed.

Nearby they made camp in the cover of a dense pinewood, both feeling completely deplete
d.

~ ~ ~

‘Do you … want to talk about it?’ Artride gingerly tried.

Tirsa had been
unable to sleep or eat after the recent events, having too much to ponder about and as a result sat staring into the air. Artride had built a simple hut of branches and leaves against the returning rain and left her at peace. It was in the midst of night and she had tried to sleep, however she could not deal with the continuing silence. Even though Tirsa was back among the living, she wasn’t really present.

Artride respected her too much to interfere, but thought she might want help dealing with whatever was bothering her.

The blonde woman was wrapped in her blanket trying to get warm and looked tired and confused. The simple hut was leaking here and there, and the only sound was that of the falling of raindrops, intermittently through the leaves and needles, on the forest floor, branches, grass and mulch of their hut.

Slowly she nodded as Artride
shuffled a little closer to be able to hear her above the sound of the rain. It was almost completely dark, but the sound of her voice and her words were all the queen needed at the moment; some proof of her existence. She laid a comforting hand on her knee, which startled Tirsa and shook her up a little. Her heart was thumping against her chest. No pain anymore; however, so exhausted, like she never had been before. Artride heard her drawing a deep breath.

‘I
… never knew what would happen when we die.’ She began with an unsteady voice. ‘I thought about it a lot, who doesn’t? But then again when the final moment comes … let’s say I wasn’t disappointed. Although I have no idea if this happens to everyone. All I know is that what I experienced was lovely and peaceful, like I became a part of contentment itself.’ Her eyes glowed like stars in the dark when she remembered the sceneries and her voice was full of excitement, like never before.

‘The colours were brighter, the soft sounds like harmonious … music, the people I loved
… so thoughtful and kind; full of understanding.’

‘You saw people?’

‘Yes and they are all right.’ And she laughed to the surprise of Artride. She waited for Tirsa to continue, but the young woman sighed when she thought about it and after a short moment resumed, ‘It’s hard to explain in words, but when I was there I seemed to understood everything and everyone. I was … one.’

There was remorse in her voice as she talked, so much
that Artride almost felt guilty and selfish she had wanted her back. It sounded like she had already been happy there in that short moment of her death. Nevertheless, the white woman had made it clear Tirsa had to really
want
to return, in order to come back, like she did.

Tirsa somehow sensed it and added
more softly, ‘They made it clear to me I wasn’t supposed to be there yet; my tasks are not over, but that one day I will return. Knowing that comforts me greatly.’

‘I want you to know how glad I am you came back, Tirsa. I really am
,’ Artride sounded near to tears.

‘I know and I am grateful too. I have treated life and myself badly. That will change from now on. Almost every day I face death, but I feel that in order to really fathom life we have to die. Sometimes a little.’

She sounded different; calmer, wiser and enlightened.

‘There was this voice calling me back, and I was torn between two worlds for a moment, but in my heart I knew what I had to do. This voice; could she be what you called the White Lady?’

‘I think so. She suddenly appeared when you lay lifeless, and offered to help. She said she couldn’t have done the same in our country, but here in the Magical Land everything seems possible.’

‘I hope she is right when it comes down to a counter spell for the curse as well.’

Artride knew what she meant and asked, ‘But could it also mean there is no death here?’

‘I don’t think so, I do not know why I was saved and if that would happen every time. Ultimately death is unavoidable, even here
, eventually; but I feel we don’t have to fear it so much. In any case we mustn’t fear death back in Ceartas either, for even though death is always near, it is not something we have to be frightened of. It’s an essential part of life, a next phase. When we live in fear … we don’t really live.’

‘I have never feared death really; it’s just that it would be such a waste to lose it all
, and especially now. Is that the reason you returned?’
Could that be true?

She heard Tirsa move her blanket.

‘I realised there was something important to go back for, yes. I couldn’t have helped Elimar, or you otherwise.’

After a short silence Artride kindly spoke, ‘Try to get some sleep, Tirsa.’ However
, she noticed that her eyes had closed already and she was drifting off.

~ ~ ~

It was the silent moment of the early morning hours, when the land is caught between a light sleep and awakening. The air was still swollen with the scents of the night, the pine trees and the rain. Inside the hut where the women lay asleep it was dry, apart from a few moist needles on the ground where the roof had leaked.

Tirsa opened her eyes to stare at the familiar si
ght of dark tree trunks. The sight of trees had always comforted her in every season; their soothing constant beings, old and wise, never judging. Now that she had some sleep, she remembered everything that happened, and laid thinking about the recent events, and Mabel, until she had to move her stiff limbs to avoid a cramp in her hip. Could she ever let her go truly? She was her first love after all. And could she love again? Before this happened it had never even crossed her mind.

When she turned over
, she realised the warmth she had felt at her back was that of Artride clinging closely to her.

What a failure I am; to be nurtured by the
queen over and over again!
But then she thought about the Sisters of the Sword; a group of fierce mercenaries in Zoria, always travelling in couples, pledged to protect and help each other during battles. They lend their bodies and souls for that goal.
How can I even compare us with them! I am a warrior all right; but Artride is still a queen, a lady and I am supposed to be
he
r bodyguard! And what a mistake it has proven!

And then suddenly, like a flash of lightning
, she remembered the words spoken by Mabel,
Look out for the woman of stone …
What and who did she mean by that; Artride? She wasn’t made of stone; she had seen her cry. But
who then?