The Queen's Curse (16 page)

‘During the three centuries she rules, now and then some of the local Silent Folk disappear; occasionally Windchildren, but lately Woodchildren.’

‘No …’ Tirsa grimly echoed. ‘How is that possible?’

‘It seems they are not immune to her magic anymore. They say the sorceress takes away their magical abilities and as a result they become vulnerable. Are you still willing to go through with it?’

‘Pfff. We have no other choice,’ Artride quietly answered, shaking her head. She had no idea who the Wood – and Windchildren exactly were; but she had heard of the Silent Folk and thought they were immortal and divine little beings. Clearly they were dear to Tirsa.

‘And there is more
…’ Roalda said with a tremor in her voice. Both women waited anxiously for her to continue.

‘Not only humans and Silent Folk are her victims; one of our
guides, which was considered a god amongst people, vanished.’

‘A vanished
god?’ Artride asked with one brow raised.

‘Gods are not very likely to be overcome by mortals. However
, the two of them have been seen together over two centuries ago. It is said that no mortal ever had this much attention from him so she must be special indeed. Despite this unusual relationship, he did not neglect his work. However, all of a sudden, about two hundred and twenty years ago, he disappeared without trace. Nothing was seen or heard of him, anymore.. The gods united, for his presence was well wanted and his work praised; so they worked on a way to find him. But it was no use. Even the gods could not locate him.’

‘He could not have died, because he was immortal, right?’ Tirsa asked.

‘Precisely. He was just nowhere to be found. He must be alive of course; no one, not even this sorceress could kill a god, or I would have seen him for sure. However, the majority of us feel … or rather know, that this foul woman has indeed something to do with his disappearance.’

‘It does sound extraordinary for a
god to disappear without a trace, never to be seen again, but … if she is that powerful … we might have a chance to get what we need. Do we know him; what was he called among us mortals?’ Artride asked pensively.

‘Among humans he was simply called ‘The
god of knowledge, but his mortal name is only known among us gods of course.’

‘Of course
,’ Tirsa said with a hint of humour. ‘Are you saying that with his disappearing a good deal of knowledge is lost?’ she asked.

‘Well, let me put it this way
… everyone who normally prays for the wisdom to do this or that, to understand a situation better or get some clarity, will not be heard nor answered, or receive any useful signs, as was his way, for as long as he is gone. Mortals and immortals alike are on their own. His task was to help or guide people, not give them clear knowledge; but guidance in order for them to gain that knowledge. A very important task.’

‘I see.’

A short silence followed.

‘Perhaps you can try to find out what happened to him. It would mean very much to us.’

‘We certainly shall,’ Artride reflected courteously and nodded at her.

‘If you have to use his name, use it
,’ Roalda said. ‘He was mortal once before he became divine. He is more than a thousand years old and born as Eolas. Remember that; Eolas.’ Both women nodded and repeated his name; ‘Eolas.’

They came across grassy rolling hills covered with many colourful flowers, bathing in the thin sunlight. The frantic cawing of crows, flying above them underlined their uneasy feeling of being watched.

‘I feel bad to guide you to her territory, but you are my last hope as well as she is yours.’

‘We understand, Roalda, but don’t forget this is our own choice. What exactly is your plan? Do you want us to ask her something personally for you, or pass a message?’ Artride asked honestly.

‘No, concentrate on your own task as much as you can. I have a feeling that will take all your time and energy. It is true I want her existence vanished from Talamh; however
, it is too much to ask from any mortal to try and take her life. You might peril your lives, not to mention your spell.’

Tirsa exchanged a troubled look with Roalda. ‘Even if she is willing to give us a spell
, after all I have heard so far, she can’t possibly go on with her game unpunished. I don’t know about you, Artride, but I am willing to take her life after we get what we came for.’ And she automatically reached for her sword.

Artride shot a fierce glance at a half turned Tirsa. ‘I won’t have this discussion, Tirsa. We shall not take any life, is that understood?’

‘With all due respect, didn’t you just hear what Roalda told us?’

‘And did you forget what I told you? Believe not the bad report till it be proved. Now, I will stick to that and so will you. We cannot be involved in this. It all is too much for us to grab a hold of
, and to be even the slightest bit of help to this country and this lady here. We do not posses any magic and nor do we have an entire army behind us. We are just the two of us, if we can come close to her at all, but might be risking our task and our lives.’ And she looked reluctantly and painfully at Roalda, knowing she owed her, but that it would be almost impossible.

‘If we can we shall do everything possible within our ability; you ha
ve my word on that, but … the sorceress must not see us as enemies. If she finds out; it is too high a risk.’ And to Tirsa: ‘Let’s focus on our main task first.’

Roalda nodded slowly, but with understanding
, compassionate eyes, and pointed at the nearest forest range. Tirsa turned around so that her back was facing Artride again, but she looked at where Roalda was pointing.

‘That wood leads all the way west to the mountains; the border of her
domain. If you follow the main track west through the woods you should reach the mountains within a few hours.’

Tirsa halted her horse and both women stared in that direction. Roalda turned to them and locked on to their eyes.

‘Your lives are out of my reach from here; only she can decide what to do with you, but it will be up to you as well. I have heard she is capable of cruel things, but
you
unlike her victims, the local Silent Folk who call Dochas their home,
have chosen freely to enter her domain. And no doubt, she will remind you of that fact. Remain close to your heart at all times; and all should be well. Don’t let her get to you. You will probably experience frightful things, but remember, it is all an illusion. It’s in her mind; don’t let her get into yours or you’ll be certainly lost. Your souls are pure and good. Be brave and calm and hopeful; nothing is impossible then. Never doubt, nor give up; how hopeless it may seem. I of all believe in you, but you also have to believe in yourself; your own kindness and goodness. Maybe she won’t help you or truly cannot; but in either case you will have tried. For it is better to search and never to find than never having tried at all.’

Her appearance quavered along with her voice.

She is frightened.
Artride thought.
For us.

‘I certainly will not return without a cure for the curse that lies on our Law Book and she has to be more powerful than Kromdan.’

Tirsa raised her eyebrows and looked questionable at the queen. ‘Who is Kromdan?’

And in a soft voice she answered, ‘That’s that sorcerer who put the curse on the
book. I never like mentioning his name.’

‘What’s the name of the old sorceress anyway?’ Tirsa asked Roalda.

‘Like Artride, I do not like mentioning
her
name either and you should sparsely use it. I always have a feeling if I mention her name; she somehow notices me and listens. A very unpleasant feeling.’

‘You feel reluctant to say it now?’

‘I shall whisper it in both your ears.’

And she did. Closely the White Woman leaned over to them; Artride first, and then Tirsa and
they both heard her say, ‘Sempervirens.’ Her whisper sounded like a wind growing to be a storm. They both felt Roalda’s fear.

They nodded in conspiracy.

‘Wishing you the best of luck is all that’s left to say. I will think about you and await your return in anticipation.’

‘But wait,’ Tirsa began. ‘You speak of her
domain; but do you also know where we have to look for her exact home?’

‘I’m afraid you will have to find that out for yourselves.’

‘But what if she does not want us to find her?’ Artride pondered.

‘If she truly does not
, you possibly won’t.’

‘Great.’ Tirsa grimly responded.

Uneasily they said their goodbyes.

Tirsa unfolded
the map and marked the spot where they thought they were and where they were heading. They both looked up to gaze at the breathtaking sharp, high-peaked mountains; not the friendly mountains they were used to. These giants seemed uninhabitable and low hanging misty clouds surrounded the eerie peaks. They both hoped it was not the mountains where the sorceress lived or they would be doomed as they did not have the right tools and equipment to be able to travel through such mountains; unless there was a mountain pass of some sorts.

Artride had a frightful vision of a pure white castle on top of those cold mountains; a castle in the skies,
where no human had ever set foot; other than skinny little tortured Wind-and Woodchildren. A shiver ran down her spine and she tried to look for comfort in her companion, but she had the same look in her eyes. Tirsa swallowed, but tried to regain her composure and gave a tiny smile to the queen before both women looked back at the vast domain of Sempervirens where nothing was certain, and without Roalda, not even their lives …

CHAPTER
7

‘From that moment on I promised myself not to be hurt again.

By anyone.’

Sempervirens

‘So they have come,’ the scarlet, black veiled woman, like old blood, whispered with her eyes closed. Her voice held a mixture of content, amusement and high expectation. ‘How fortunate, how very fortunate.’

She did not use any device to watch or hear them. She had no need to. Magic tools were for the untrained and weak, she always told herself. She was the Queen of Dochas and merely had to close her eyes when she wanted to know what was going on in her kingdom.
It was she who ruled and controlled the land;
her
land since three centuries now; not nearly long enough to have it entirely her way.
But not to worry,
she reassured herself.
Eternal life is yours to keep and this is just the beginning of greater things. When I am stronger and have all the TalamhClann and their magic behind me, I will stretch my boundaries and finally rule the human race as well. My vengeance will be complete and will know no mercy.
The picture of the two women huddled together, asleep now in the freezing cold, vanished slowly.
And the coming of these two women shall be the start of it all …
she had a feeling,
and her perfect ruby red mouth formed a sly smile.

The weight of ages rode upon her shoulders and when she rose from her sitting position the ache in her bones felt even worse. How long had she been sitting, watching? Time; once her enemy, had almost no meaning to her anymore. Hours slid by and became days, seasons came and went
, and she watched it all with not even the slightest notion. However, to hold her body ageless, she needed to use her wondrous spell; more powerful than time itself. She only had to concentrate and say the words,

‘Curatzia memponza grelanzo menthenze whaconder flan shiantoo Sempervirensssss.’ Merely a whisper to anyone, but enough to make her heart young again and fool her bones, organs, muscles and skin.

Her long scarlet black cloak and veil wavered elegantly along her slim body as she paced her throne room. The woman smiled once more, as she had smiled ever since she found out new ‘guests’ had crossed her enchanted ‘moving’ bridge. The bridge which never was in the same place twice. She could feel them, even if she didn’t watch; breathing her air, trotting her soil. Four of them at the border just some days ago; three died, however one returned from the Other Side; an uncharted mystery even to her. And now that two remained – two women for a change, and very determined, it seemed things were getting interesting, very interesting indeed.

Now all she had to do was wait, and she was most patient
– although her servants would not agree on that. Her smile turned into a loud laugh, its shrill sound echoing in the large, almost empty, grey stone-walled chamber. It was both frightening and infectious. She began to hum and then sing an old tempting song, long forgotten by most, raising her arms high. The torches on the walls immediately flared with red hot flames, and the space was filled with its warm, blood-red light. As her voice carried the enchanting tune, formed in the ancient tongue, there was no need for any more thoughts.

It was a way to forget. Where once time was her greatest enemy
, it was now her past. No spell could either alter or banish memories from her brain entirely –that were imprinted on her soul – without her losing her power completely. Without her past, most likely she wouldn’t have become the person she now was. More importantly, she wouldn’t
be
the sorceress she was at this stage and continuing with her work, her life. She would be long dead and buried, having lived a meaningless little life. No, she
was
her past, just like she was her future.

And although she had sheltered her old unwanted memories from her work and life in a safe part of her subconscious, that in its turn would send the bad memories away to a part of her domain,
so that they sometimes popped up unwanted, day or night. For working with magic was working with the subconscious mind. All she could do at those moments was sing her old magical songs someone had taught her long ago, and she would momentarily forget. That was necessary for her survival and her sanity. Her servants would recognize the song and know she would call for them soon. And they would obey.

Oh, yes, tonight she would call for her favourite
, beautiful servant and celebrate the coming of her new promising guests.

Her heart was dark and cold; but she cared for her servants in her own cruel way. She nourished them
, like they nourished her – and all were content.