Silver Rose

The Gommoth

Gold bracelets, silver hairpins, velvet gloves, lace and silk pieces. Tara picked each item off the floor, the chests, the chairs and tables. Carefully, she put each one in its correct box and put the boxes in their proper places. In all her years of service to the royal family, no one had been as exhausting as Queen Rolina. Every waking hour she was in need of something.

“I’m in need of a glass of wine.”

“I’m in need of company, go fetch Lady Alabaster.”

“I’m hot, open the windows.”

“I’m cold, close the windows.”

“I can’t sleep, sing to me,” Tara muttered, “Never mine that I can sleep and was before she rang that stupid bell!”

She picked up a string of pearls. Tonight there was a royal function. Tara couldn’t remember what it was.

“A feast or the like I suppose,” she muttered.
She didn’t care for the pomp of the current court. She had first come into service before the country of Brovan was one the most powerful nations in the Sauyan region. The Sauyan region was made up of all the countries bordering the Sauyan Sea. The richest were on the east side which was where Brovan was.

But it hadn’t always been this way. There was a time, centuries ago, when Brovan was nothing but a mound of dirt. It was then that Fen, his wife Pene and their men fought many others for this small piece of land. Fen and Pene won and established their kingdom. For many years they tried to have an heir. They feared that their tiny new kingdom would fall apart without someone to rightfully take over. They finally had a daughter, Clon. The day Clon was born, Pene had asked for Tara. Tara had helped them in a few battles and was known to be a fairy. Pene asked Tara to watch over and take care of her daughter. Tara loved Pene and made the promise not only for Clon, but for every first born daughter of the royal family of Brovan for as long as the country lasted.

773 years (and a kingdom more than ten times larger than it started out as) later, Tara was still making good that promise. But the problem was that King Elbert and Queen Rolina had no daughters. They only had a son of which Tara was under no obligation to care for. Usually when this happened, Tara left to enjoy her own merriments until a princess was born. But not this time. Queen Rolina had Prince Sebastian two years after her marriage. After the prince was born, the queen had made it more than clear that she was not having any more children. The king didn’t care so long as he had his heir. Tara thought they should have tried for one more in case the first child died, but she never voiced this opinion.

When she saw there was no chance of a princess during Elbert DeLaney’s reign, she prepared to visit her sisters until Prince Sebastian married and was due to have his own heir. Then the queen sent for her. Tara had a soft spot for the queens because of Pene and didn’t refuse when Queen Rolina asked her to stay.

“I need you, Tara.” The queen had said. “This is still a strange land to me. There are still customs I don’t understand. And remember, before I was married I was a princess of Adger.”

It didn’t matter that she was a princess of Adger. Tara’s promise had only been for the princesses of Brovan, not anywhere else. Still, she took pity on the 16-year-old queen. She knew Elbert was a tough man to live with (she had watched him grow for the past 32 years) and she knew it was hard to adjust to a new place. So Tara agreed to stay in the queen’s service for the next five years. The five years passed and the Queen begged for another five and another five and another. Now it had been 20 years since the prince was born, since Queen Rolina had professed her need of Tara.

“And she needed me a great deal,” Tara said to herself, “to fluff her pillows and pick the food from between her teeth.”

Tara looked around the queen’s dressing room. Everything was back in its place. She looked toward the far corner.

“Not everything,” she said aloud.

A pink lace trimmed handkerchief lay draped over the mirror. Tara gently tugged on the corner of the handkerchief. Quietly, it slid off the top of the mirror. The floor-length, ebony framed mirror was a wedding gift to the queen from the king. Gently, Tara touched the elaborate carvings on the black frame. It was an old mirror dating back to the Genley’s reign 400 years ago. Tara touched the thick black wood frame. The Genleys had only ruled for 65 years, but they had been turbulent times. Wars and famines nearly destroyed the country. Tara had never trusted the Genley family.

There was something extremely odd and unnatural about them. What it was, she never figured out. There were rumors that they were from a family of sorcerers and witches. Nothing had ever been proven. They were finally overthrown by the DeLaney’s who ruled Brovan ever since.

Tara remembered the night the mirror had been brought to the palace. Prince Lanquor had been very anxious to have the mirror, and wanted it delivered as soon as possible. There was a terrible thunderstorm that night. She had looked out a window as two men labored to carry in the heavy mirror.

Prince Lanquor and his wife stood in the doorway with several more servants behind them. The hoods of their cloaks and the torches they held masked their faces, but Tara knew it was them. She watched as the two burly men made their way to the side door. In the slippery mud, one of the men stumbled. The brown cloth over the mirror fell to the ground. The glass of the mirror looked up at the dark clouds. Suddenly a lightening bolt shot down from the sky. Or maybe it shot up from the mirror. Tara was never sure about it, but a huge bolt of light did touch the mirror. A loud explosion shook the very foundations of the palace. Tara dunked down as if the light would hit her next. In a moment the place was dark again. She peeked out the window. In the mud lay two charred bodies; between them was the mirror, completely intact as if nothing had happened.

“Get the mirror,” Prince Lanquor ordered unfazed.

Three servants ran out and brought the mirror in. After it was brought in, strange things happened throughout the palace. Sometimes all the candles and torches in the building would go out at the same time. They often heard dreadful screams without ever finding the source. More than once, an earthquake had shaken the entire city. There were nights when every person in the palace would wake up from a terrible nightmare no one could remember. Worst was the feeling of an extra presence in the palace. Tara remembered sensing a presence that was not dead (like a ghost) nor was it living… but it was. And it watched… always watched.

Tara pulled her hand back as if she had unknowingly touched a hot stove. She didn’t trust the mirror. She didn’t think it was harmful itself, but she believed magic was involved in its creation (probably dark magic). Under the right conditions it could become dangerous. After the Genley’s were overthrown the mirror disappeared. Tara had always believed it had been destroyed. But almost 400 years later, she watched in horror as King Elbert presented it to his bride at their wedding feast. It had been found along with other ancient junk in an old room in the far west wing (one of the oldest parts of the palace that was rarely ever used).

So far it showed no signs of being anything but an ordinary mirror people looked at to see themselves. Tara watched herself touch her light brown hair to smooth it a bit. She didn’t understand the queen’s need to look at herself several times an hour. She never looked much different day to day. Yes, she was older now. Her 36th birthday had been three months ago and Tara could tell that her age bothered her. She no longer looked like that 16-year-old frightened girl who begged Tara to stay.

The queen was still very beautiful, but her body and skin were mature and not youthful. When she first came all anyone could talk about was how shiny her brown hair was, how white her teeth were, how dark her eyes were, and how lovely her skin was. She was the perfect woman. Time chased youth away and the queen knew it. Now she was willing to do whatever it took to capture it back. She stood before the mirror everyday for hours pulling the skin on her face back to make it tighter, trying on different gowns to see which brought out her best qualities, and making her servants try new hairstyles on her. She stared at her front, she stared at her back, and she stared at her sides. She put every inch of her body under deep scrutiny every morning before breakfast and again before going to bed. She tried creams, scrubs, fruit diets, vegetable diets, water diets and on and on.

Tara thought the whole thing was ludicrous. Queen Rolina was still one of the most beautiful women in the land. What did it matter if she looked older? She was older. Human lives were much too short for them to waste their time obsessing over their appearance. The Queen was almost 40. She had 20, maybe 30 or 40 years (if she were lucky) to live. So far, she lived the past 10 years standing in front of a sheet of glass. The next decade or two would probably be the same, only worse.

Tara turned away from the mirror. She heard a clock chime from somewhere in the palace. Nine strokes. If Tara went to bed now, she could get at least 3 or 4 hours of sleep before Her Majesty would need her and her other “personal” servants to help her out of her dress and into bed.

She opened a wooden chest full of an assortment of handkerchiefs. After carefully folding the pink silk ‘kerchief, Tara gently placed it inside the chest. She closed it and took one last look around the room. Her eye lingered on the mirror. It stood cold and dark in the corner. The fire in the fireplace reflected in the glass. The flames swayed side to side in the mirror. Although the mirror stood in the corner farthest from the fireplace, the glass seemed to glow red with heat. Surprised, she jerked her eye away and left the room.

---------------------------------------------------

“Tara! Tara! Wake up! Quickly!”

A hand grabbed her shoulder and relentlessly shook her. Tara pushed the arm away and sat up on her elbow.

“What does the queen want now?!” Tara asked grumpily.

She couldn’t see who the form in front of her was with the darkness and her blurry eyes, but the voice belonged to Reah, a fairy who worked in the kitchen.

“It is the queen, but she wants only her life,” Reah said.

“Speak plainly Reah, my mind is still half asleep,” Tara said.

“Oh, Tara, the queen is in a terrible situation indeed,” Reah said.

Tara shut her eyes. Reah still enjoyed talking in the traditional fairy speak where one vaguely said what one meant. Tara flung her head back on her pillow. If Reah couldn’t speak plain Brovanian, then she wouldn’t waste her time trying to figure it out. Her mind became fuzzy as she began to drift back to sleep. Something pushed her. Opening her eyes, she saw Reah, still talking, shoving her legs aside so she could sit on the bed.

“…This is a terrible fate to befall us, Tara. What we shall do I don’t know. The only certainty is that nothing can ever be as it was—“

“Oh for goodness sake Reah,” Tara shouted!

“Come out with it already!”

Reah glared at her for stopping her mid speech. Adjusting herself on the bed so she could face Tara, Reah solemnly clasped her hands in her lap.
Finally Reah began,

“Well the king has returned from his journey to the cities of Felia and Tabith where he was at for a month. This night, there was to be special feast in honor of his return—“

“Yes,” Tara interrupted, “I know all this. I helped Queen Rolina prepare for the feast for five hours!”

Reah frowned to tell Tara not to interrupt her again.

“I’m sorry,” Tara said. “Please continue.”

“I dare say that working for the queen has made you snappy, Tara.” Reah said. “I believe her awful attitude has rubbed off on you. You ought to consider finding a new role model.”

“Like you I suppose,” Tara mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. You haven’t finished your story have you?”

“Oh yes, as I was saying, they were holding a feast in honor of the king’s return. I don’t know why though. After all, Felia is only five days journey from here. It’s not like he left the country or anything. Honestly, these people will do anything for an excuse to have a feast. I think—“

Tara loudly cleared her thought.

“Oh, sorry, where was I oh yes. They were holding a feast in—“

“Honor of the king’s return. Yes! We’ve been over that part several times!”

“It’s important but if you want me to skip over it I will! I suppose you want me skip over the whole feast, too!”

“If there’s no point to it, yes!”

“You are so rude!” Reah said angrily. “What I came all the way up here to tell you was that the king pushed the queen into the fireplace and now she is nearly dead!”

Wide awake, Tara sat straight up.

“What?!” She shouted. “Reah, what happened?!”

“Well, well,” Reah said smugly, “look who wants to here my story now!”

Tara grabbed Reah’s shoulders and roughly shook her.

“Tell me, Reah or I’ll shake you until the end of time, so help me!” Tara shouted.

“Alright! I’ll tell you!” Reah screamed. “Stop shaking me!”

Tara let go of her shoulders. Reah held her head.

“You are so mean to me.” Reah said with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t see it myself, but Jon the manservant was. He told Sylvia, who told Rica, who told me that after the feast was over and the guests leaving that King Elbert and the queen got into a spat. I don’t know what it was about, probably something trivial…” Reah caught Tara’s eye. “But that doesn’t matter. At some point the queen slapped him. The king slapped her back and told her never to do it again. So she hit him again. They were standing close to the fireplace. He hit her across the face so hard she fell straight into the fire. She screamed and jumped out, but her clothes and hair had already caught on fire. It was Jon who put the fire out. The king just stood there. Jon said he was so shocked he couldn’t move. But I think he didn’t do anything because he wanted her to die. Rica said that Kane said he was passing the room and thought he heard the king shout, ‘Burn in hell, witch!’ Kane is sure he said it as he was hitting the queen because he thinks he heard a thud after it.”

“Reah! How is the queen? Is she dead?”

“Dead? Not unless she died while I was telling you about it…”

Tara jumped out of bed. A babe could die of old age while Reah was talking. After lighting a candle, Tara threw her work clothes on.

“You don’t have to get out of bed, Tara,” Reah said.

“I only thought you’d like to know since you’re her personal servant and all.”

“I’m not her personal servant,” Tara grunted as she shoved a shoe on, “I’m doing her a favor…”

“A twenty year favor!” Reah exclaimed. “And if this hadn’t happened, then you’d probably be here for another twenty.”

“Reah you speak that way!”

“It’s the truth. We both know Queen Rolina doesn’t have the slightest inclination to allow you out of her service if she can help it. She thinks having a fairy servant makes her better somehow.” Reah said.
Tara held the other shoe in her hand. She knew Reah was right. She had known after the first five years what the queen’s intentions were. What she didn’t know was why she kept on each time.

“Tara, you should take advantage of this turn of events.” Reah said. “Your five years have long been up. Leave now, while the queen can make no protest. With any luck, the queen will die before any princesses are born.”

“Reah! You shouldn’t wish death on anyone, especially not the queen.”

Reah looked at her with wide eyes.
“I don’t know why you’re trying to admonish me.” Reah said. “I don’t care two bits for the queen!”

“Reah!”

“And neither do you!”

Tara stared at her in shock that quickly turned into shame.

“See, your eyes tell the truth.” Reah said triumphantly.

Tara sighed.

“I must go see about the queen.” She said, rising.

“And do what? Fairies who have pledged themselves have no abilities outside of their pledge. I can only use my abilities with the cooking. You can only use yours with the princesses. And even if we weren’t pledged, we couldn't heal something this big.”

“But what if—“

“There are no ‘ifs’. You know the rules. Fairies can’t do that sort of thing.”

“Fauyes can.”

Reah snorted.

“Fauyes!” Reah said, rolling her eyes.

“Reah—“

A loud banging shook the door to Tara’s room. Quickly, she opened it. A man servant with two guards stood in the doorway.

“Come with us,” the man servant said.

The servant wore a bright red sash across his green tunic to denote his high rank as personal servant to the king. Silently, Tara curtsied and walked out into the hall.

“You too,” he ordered after spotting Reah.

They walked through the servants’ quarters and down the narrow corridor that led to the palace. After a short hall and stairs, they passed the beginning of the maze of corridors that led to the dungeon and torture chambers.

Usually, Tara ran past the huge locked door that contained this passage. Once, about three hundred years ago, she passed that corridor and an escaped prisoner had jumped out. He grabbed her and put a knife to her neck. He tried to use her as a hostage so he could safely escape the palace. He had made it to the front hall when he was killed from behind by a knight named Mahan Frerda. The knife bit into her flesh as he slid to the floor.

Tara touched the white scar etched down the left side of her neck as they hurried along. The door had been installed after the escape. Even with the door with the five padlocks there, Tara still feared that another man would pop out every time she walked past it.

They stopped in front of the queen’s chambers. The man servant nodded at the guards who stood in front of the doors and they were opened. They went down the hall to the queen’s bedroom. Tara could hear the commotion that was going on behind the doors. The doors opened and they all went inside.

Servants ran to and fro in the large room gathering linens and supplies at the commands of the two doctors who stood over the bed.

“Here she is,” the man servant said walking over to the doctors.

“Over here, girl,” one of the doctors ordered.

Normally, Tara would have been offended at the doctor’s calling her a girl. They had no right to call her such since she was older than all of them put together. But tonight she barely heard what he said. Tonight her ears could only focus on the low savage moaning coming from the queen’s bed.

Reah pushed her forward as the doctor called her for the fourth time. Slowly, timidly, Tara made her way to the bed. The groans became louder. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears. A harsh burnt scent filled the air. Suddenly, the doctor was at her side. He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her to the bed.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Her breath caught in her throat. She never wanted to see, not really. She knew what they wanted. She should have told them when they knocked on her door. Who could fix this? Tears filled Tara’s eyes.

Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed so bad if the queen were an ordinary person. But Tara knew how she looked only a few hours before. Where her thick dark brown hair used to be lay nothing, nothing but a scalp. There were no thin eyebrows or long thick eyelashes. One eyelid seemed to be sealed shut against her cheek. The other was closed and Tara wondered if the emerald eyes still shone from behind them. Her once pink lips were the same as the rest of the skin on her face and neck: red, black.

Tara turned her eyes away from the face. Once it was a beautiful, lively face now it was one of an old corpse. Parts of the rest of her body could be seen where the fire had burned through her gown. Bits of fabric were burnt into her flesh. The rest of her was pink and moist looking.

“Well?”

Tara looked up. Both of the doctors frowned at her.

“Huh?” Tara squeaked.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” One demanded.

Against her will, her eyes shot back to Queen Rolina’s face.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked.

“Heal her,” the doctor said without trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

The queen moaned. Tara shook her head.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? You are the queen’s fairy aren’t you?” He asked.

“No. I am pledged only to Brovan’s princesses. I have no power to give to the queen.”

“But you are a fairy— you have magic—“ the manservant began.

“Yes. I know. But there are rules. And one rule is that once I pledged myself I forfeited all magic that didn’t regard the princesses.” Tara explained.
The three men looked at each other in surprise.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could do something… but even if I weren’t pledged there isn’t much I could do either.” She said.

“What is the point of having fairies around if they can’t do something as simple as healing burns?!” One of the doctors yelled.

“It’s not so easy, doctor, and you of all people should know that!” Tara replied hotly.

“It’s no wonder the fairy race is almost extinct!” The same doctor shouted. “They’re not capable of doing anything useful!”

“Dr. Jonath,” the man servant said, with a glance at Tara, “be careful of what you say. You know the stories. It is not wise to offend a fairy.”

Tara knew the stories the servant spoke of. Stories of fairies who were offend at almost everything. Fairies who put cruel spells on humans as punishment for those offences. As far as Tara knew, the only ones who would do this were Rieas.

The men looked at her warily. Tara sighed. If they had listened to what she had said about the rule of the pledge, they’d know they weren’t in any danger.

Dr. Jonath shook his head.
“Look, let’s just get an herbalist to make a salve like I suggested at the beginning.” He said.

The other doctor agreed. Tara looked back down at Queen Rolina. She had an urge to touch her, but didn’t want to hurt her. Hot tears stung the rims of her eyes. She was never officially the queen’s protector, but she had been with her for so long, Tara couldn’t help feeling some responsibility for what happened.

“Fairy!” Dr. Jonath called with a look that said “what are you still doing here?”

“Yes?” Tara replied, swallowing the urge to say something that would get her into trouble.

“Go get an herbalist,” he ordered. “After that you are dismissed. We can handle things from there.”

Angrily clutching her skirts, Tara managed a small curtsy. She grabbed Reah as she stormed out of the room.

“Humans!” she huffed as the door closed behind them.