Chapter Fifteen
"Only Januli detested Sonaro,
and the feeling was mutual with the latter.
A war had occurred only over a century ago,
caused by a feud between the ruling families …"
—The Pasegean Scrolls
A carriage rolled through the gates of Tuqsan, capital of Chail, and the city where the royal palace was located. Many of the townspeople had gathered in the square, where only four months before they had celebrated the Moondance festival. They cheered as the horses passed them by, and as single gloved hand extended from the carriage in greeting.
Their queen was home.
Chunia shoved her cloak onto one servant and her gloves onto another. Others grasped her luggage and began to haul her heavy bags up the marble staircase to her chambers. The foyer glittered, the royal insignia and golden tapestries shining in the afternoon light streaming from the open doorway.
A yell came from outside the castle, startling Chunia. She turned to see who it was and nearly fainted.
Her mother looked down from her place on the wall, a regal look upon her beautiful face. Chunia remembered her mother’s face the night she had been murdered, nearly four years before. She had told her daughter to never turn from her parents or her brother, if he was ever found. "He would be in his fourteenth year now, my daughter. Only two years younger than you. He would nearly be a man." Her mother had turned away from her, hiding the tears welling in her eyes. "If he ever returns, Chunia, when we are gone … keep the crown. Jarrad could never rule the way you might, despite his masculinity." With that, she had retired to bed, and Chunia had never seen her mother alive again.
Her father sat on the right side of the door, his mouth serious but his eyes laughing at the world. It made Chunia smile; that her father had seen such terrible things, his life had been mocked by the fates, yet he could still laugh at himself—at his kingship. Chunia knew she did not have the strength her mother had, or the mirth of her father, but she knew it was her duty to rule the land the best way she knew, even if it cost her everything she wanted in the process. She could not be selfish.
She shook herself from the reverie, finding it hard to believe that so many thoughts might be thought in mere seconds.
"Your highness!" The cry came from Quadra, who had jumped from her horse and now ran towards the queen. Breathless, she knelt on the ground before Chunia, murmuring underneath her breath about the prisoner.
Exasperatedly, "Speak up, Quadra!"
The woman gasped, then pointed towards the dungeons. "I will … take you … there …"
Chunia rolled her eyes and pulled Quadra to her feet, dragging her to the portcullis across the courtyard wordlessly. From there they descended into the grimy depths that were the Chailan dungeons.
* * * * *
Jareth sat with Alena, trying to comfort her. "If this is about Catrin …"
Alena looked at him, lower lip quivering and face red with tears. "No! You’ll never understand! I’m related to a—to a murderer!"
"You couldn’t be … Alena, that’s impossible. No one in your family could ever have been like that … the Pasege family have impeccable lineage."
She glaringly responded, "So what? Sidhe was my grandmother! You know, the witch who cursed your mother!"
"But I don’t care about any of that! You’re just Alena to me! Just because your grandmother killed a few people, well …" Jareth leaned in, trying to kiss her.
Alena pushed him away so violently that Jareth fell from his chair. "Ugh! I knew you wouldn’t understand!" With that, she began to run up the staircase.
Jareth struggled to his feet. "What about me?!"
She turned, a puzzled look upon her face. "What about you?"
Shaking his head, Jareth continued. "Me? Well, I’ve just learned that there’s a curse on me and my family, Catrin’s blabbed to the enemy and they’ve taken Lokath, so there’s another of our group sent to die! And, on top of that, to fulfil this prophecy, I have to kill my own flesh and blood—my sister! Elanora knows who that is."
Alena bent her head for a few moments, and when she raised it again fresh tears had sprung from her eyes. "Don’t you see? This is why we can never be what you want us to be, Jareth. This news … without my family, you could have had a happy life with parents and a sister!" Her voice grew even more bitter. "But, Sidhe—my grandmother!—had to destroy it … that’s why nothing can ever happen with us, Jareth. Can’t you understand?"
Jareth jumped towards the stairs, and Alena backed away as he ran up them to her. "Maybe I don’t care … my love for you, Alena, is the only certain thing I have in this world. Please don’t deny me that!"
"I must. Goodbye, Jareth Caverton … or should I say Jarrad?" With that, Alena walked to her bedroom and closed the door. Jareth would have run to it and forced it open but he heard the key turn in the lock just as he contemplated that action.
Syrah wandered past just then, muttering something about Lokath. Jareth tried to hold her back, but she shook him off. Her daze had already lasted a week … who knew when she would be back to normal?
* * * * *
Chunia laughed as the man below her thrashed about, trying to escape the hot metal rods which were being laid on his body. Normally, however, his torture would have been a comfort to her … but now, her heart was filled with sadness and the laughter was but an act.
He screamed, and she stopped.
"Stop!" she screeched. Those below at first did not hear their queen, and continued to torture him. Their supervisor chastised them before he was dragged off to his death for not controlling his majesty’s subjects properly.
Chunia lifted her dress slightly and descended the grimy stairs to the torture room. Quadra followed, hands in her pockets, looking more masculine than ever.
The queen walked towards the man in the middle, who seemed to be delirious. His body was lean and scarred from the burns on his chest. Chunia shuddered at the resemblance to Goonads. She wondered if the assassin was in the kingdom yet … then shook herself back to the situation at hand. She pursed her lips and gazed down at the man, feeling pity for him yet knowing that it was her job to extract information from him.
His eyes flickered open at her gaze, and he murmured, "Syrah?"
Chunia narrowed her eyes. "No, my name is not Syrah!" She decided to exert some authority onto the man. "I am a queen, and you shall bow to me!"
"Syrah, Syrah … where is Syrah? Syrah is everything, the world is nothing without Syrah …" His eyes closed again, and he began to move his arms as if he was inside a nightmare.
Nightmare … Chunia gasped at the realisation. He’s got amnesia! Anger flooded her veins, making them boil with fury. "You imbeciles!" she screamed at the men standing around her. Quadra was startled and nearly fell over. While she was trying to regain her balance Chunia continued. "He doesn’t remember a thing! What’d you do to him?! Tell me now or General Quadra shall kill you on the spot!"
One of the men, the newly appointed supervisor went into great detail about how they had smacked him over the head early one morning whilst he was out walking on a tip from a girl named Moore, and had shoved him into a sack. "He’s been murmuring the word ‘Syrah’ ever since, your majesty."
Chunia glared at the men who quivered beneath her gaze. "Very well … you shall live. It is not your fault that brute force is the only thing your intellects will ever understand." She turned back to Quadra, a question in her eyes. "This … Syrah. It sounds like a name …"
Quadra nodded. "Yes, your highness. Tonukan, actually. It means ‘most beautiful’ in the tongue of the Alanu."
"Syrah Alanu." Chunia rolled the words over her tongue, liking the way they sounded. Quadra stared at her queen for a moment, waiting for her to stop. Noticing the woman gazing at her strangely, she stopped. "Well, if she feels as strongly for this man—whoever he is—she should be searching for him. So, we wait near where we captured this one, and take any female even remotely Tonukan hostage."
Nodding, Quadra asked, "And this man?"
Bored, Chunia began to walk up the stairs again and out of the dungeon. "Get someone to dress him, then set him free. I don’t believe he’ll be able to walk fifty spans, much less from Chail back to Alentio!"
Quadra laughed, and signalled the torturers their dismissal. Syrah Alanu … if only you knew …
Copyright 2000 M. Lees
