Chapter Nineteen
"The Tenth generation of Tuqsan nobility was a cursed one.
Both Prince Miraric and his bride, Caderralla Onayk,
were drowned during their honeymoon,
the royal vessel sinking far from shore;
Their bodies never found, never given a proper burial.
King Garvin and Queen Lela were murdered by a mysterious assassin,
dressed in black …"
—The Pasegean Scrolls
A knock came upon her bedchamber door.
"Majesty, a visitor—"
"I will see no one until my time has come, Caer." Chunia’s voice was hoarse, due to the lump which rose in her throat as she thought of how little time she had left.
"But, mistress … she comes from Alentio with news of your army—"
"I do not care!" Her voice screeched throughout the castle, echoing down the stairwells, out the gates and across the land.
Caer shook his head and gently closed the door. He returned to the woman who waited in the foyer. "I regret that the Queen shan’t be able to permit an audience today, milady. Perhaps you could return tomorrow …" He trailed off, knowing that Chunia’s answer would continue to be the same until her ‘time had come’. Caer did not understand what she meant by this phrase, but he knew something—the whole of Chail knew!
Chunia had lost her will to live.
* * * * *
"Lokath?! Sweet Elanora! Jareth, Vela … It’s Lokath! He’s alive!" Alena stumbled to the wall, trying to balance herself before she fainted with joy. Vela’s face brightened, and broke into a smile. She sat down in a chair next to the doorway of the room, and began to cry, thankful that he was still alive and well.
Jareth shouted with rapture at the sight of Lokath’s face, thankful that he was alive, if a little worse for wear. "Alena! It’s a miracle!" The princess had regained her balance, and rejoined Jareth in the middle. He grasped her hands, and kissed her quickly on the lips. Alena responded for a moment, then, regaining her composure, broke the embrace. She walked back to Lokath, her happiness replaced with confusion at Jareth and the situation.
Brianne looked to Alena questioningly, then asked: "You know this man, then?"
Jareth nodded. "Yes, he’s a friend of ours. He was helping us to—"
"Uh, do you know how he came to be here?" Vela shot Jareth a warning glance, reminding him of the fact that they were on Chailan soil, in a Chailan house, and talking to a Chailan woman.
Brianne shook her head. "I’m afraid not. He seems to remember nothing but the word he repeats again and again … ‘Syrah’. Do you know what it means?"
"No … sorry." This time Alena warned Jareth with a glare. There’s no reason to give this woman any more information than we need to, she thought. We can’t trust anyone … think of what happened with Catrin?
"Where was he headed?"
"South-west, I believe. He seemed to have been travelling on the direct road from Port Sevé—"
"Which passes through—"
"Tuqsan!" Jareth cut Alena off as he realised exactly what could have happened. "Of course! Vela, you stay with Lokath and Brianne … I’ve got to talk to Alena." Grabbing Alena’s arm, he practically dragged her back to his room. When she got inside, Alena shook away his arm and turned on him.
"Jareth—"
"Look, Alena, just listen to me for a second … I think I’ve figured it out."
She gave an exasperated sigh. "Figured what out, Jareth?"
"I think I know where Lokath was taken … and where Syrah might still be! As we know, Lokath was captured by Chailan mercenaries, and Syrah disappeared about a week after he did. So, I’m thinking that maybe they abducted Syrah as well—I don’t know why, though—and Lokath escaped, hurting himself in the process. Probably, the last thing he saw was Syrah, making him remember her name and nothing else!"
Alena stared at Jareth for a moment, then began to laugh. "You really think that’s what happened?" Jareth nodded, making Alena laugh harder. "It’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?"
"Well, I guess, but truth can be stranger than fiction. I mean, look at me! I thought I was just a normal person, with brothers and sisters and parents … I lived on a farm, but wanted to be something more than that. Then, I find out that the Caverton’s weren’t my real parents, my mother had a curse put on her by an evil spirit, who was the grandmother of the woman I was in love with …" Jareth stopped, then stared at his feet.
"Yes, you’re right Jareth. About everything."
The door slammed, and he jumped at the loud noise. Sitting back down on the bed, he put his head in his hands and groaned at his misfortune.
* * * * *
Muffled screams filled the night.
She crept along the hallway, scared, still a child. She pushed open the wooden doors, and saw a black cloak …
Blood, blood everywhere. The voices were silent, as they belonged to the murdered in their beds. Tears flowed, and the cloak advanced.
Weep, weep—run, run.
Or die, die, die.
* * * * *
Alena was avoiding him.
Jareth spent much of the time in his room that week, coming out for meals and to check on Lokath. He would talk to Brianne a little, and learnt much about her family. Her father had been a drunkard who ran from his family and ended up dead in a Capurnan gutter. Her mother had been sickly for several months and their only living relative was an aunt, who had gone to live in Januli several years earlier. It was hard to get word to her, but Brianne believed that once her mother died she would track her down. "Gold is scarce in Chail right now," Brianne said. "But I’ll get there, somehow. Mother shall be dead by month’s end, and there shall be nothing to do but to leave. The town shan’t help; the mayor owns all the land and rent is high. He controls Airann, really."
Vela spoke little to anyone but Lokath for that week, concentrating all her efforts of rehabilitation onto him. She reminded him of their quest, and, eventually he began to respond. He could remember nothing but what Vela told him, and until something triggered his memory he was at her will. She did not tell him of Syrah’s disappearance, her role in his life or what she knew of his father. Vela reminded him of everything else she knew of him, handing him a life with hope ahead of him.
By the end of the seventh day, Lokath trusted Vela and believed what she had told him. Jareth and Alena seemed like strangers to him, but Vela was his best friend. He thanked Brianne for what she had done for him, knowing that she had helped to save him from a horrible fate.
Once again they boarded their carriage, this time in the dead of night, and said their goodbyes to Brianne. The coachman clicked to the horses, and they rode off into their destinies.
Copyright 2000 M. Lees
