the haunted kingdom, Charles E.J. Moulton [chrome ebook reader TXT] 📗

/> Friday; July 31st, 1422 A.D.

Belinda and Alexander stood face to face under the light of seven flickering torches that night. Flames in a way that seemed haunting and sinister lit up the grey sandstone walls. Where the tapestries of Roman Gods were given a shining spark of light there was a strangely volcanic visual touch to the art. The gold throne lit up with every flash of the flames and flickered in the light. The throne room had an air of truth unspoken about it on the eve ending the moon of mid annual warmth. The windows were open and crickets were chirping. The king knew they were male crickets and Alexander was reminded that only male crickets chirp.
Belinda and Alexander were alone just as they wished to be so. It was clear to them that Steven had offered to come with, but it was equally clear that the present and future leaders wanted some well earned solitude. It was uniformly obvious that these two rulers were now lost for words.
“Belinda,” Alexander spoke slowly, his voice only a whisper. “I know my sister has always wanted to replace me with King Adnicul of Nocturania. You have never understood that this fear that my sister Lucinda may keep her promise and return to curse us at the wedding just as she promised thirty years ago and this is not only a family matter. Yes, she is mad at me and wants to see me hung, drawn and quartered, smothered with excrements just to spite me.” He smiled. It was a sad smile, an accepting whisper of a grin. “Belinda, my dearest child, Lucinda’s return is just as much a political matter now and it always has been. She was exiled not only because she killed our family. She was exiled because she wanted to become queen.”
Belinda gazed at her father. “What are you telling me? Are you telling me that my aunt wanted to rule our empire even at sixteen?”
“I am telling you that Lucinda only practiced black magic and made love to hundreds of boys inside the castle walls to spite us and drive us out. The fact that I drove her out started the war. She had always claimed that she would make me the personal assistant if I gave her the confidence to give her regal leadership.” Alexander sniggered and rubbed his eyes. “What hogwash. She was mad at me for actually telling her to sod off and burned down the summer mansion because of it. When I drove her out, exiling her and forbidding her to ever come back, I told her that I would be on the throne ruling this country at least thirty years to come and that no one could stop it, not even her. She took that as a provocation and told me that she would then be back in thirty years to haunt me.”
Belinda made a jerky movement with her head and turned away from her father. She walked a few paces away from the throne, her green diamond studded gown glittering in the moonlight. Her thoughts were spinning like leaves in a whirlwind inside her head. She felt as if she had just been turned upside down and rattled. Here she was, discovering something that now seemed obvious to everyone and that she hadn’t thought of. Now her dear father was telling her that Lucinda had wanted to become queen all along and that this was not just a personal vendetta.
Belinda chuckled nervously. “Adnicul is a good friend of Lucinda’s, probably her lover. He is the successor of the old dark order.” Belinda shook her head and walked to the window. “How could I not have seen this?”
Alexander stood for a while watching his child looking so beautiful and radiant by the casement. He strode up to her with a steady step and put his hand on her right shoulder. The fabric felt soft and her skin felt creamy. It was an ancient blend she used: animal fat, starch and tin with a pinch of rosemary. It smelled sweet like a hot summer night.
“Honey,” Alexander spoke.
Belinda looked to the side.
“Why have you never told me about this conversation?” Belinda interrupted. “After all, I was imprisoned and beaten up by this woman. The harbour controls are infested not by pirate frauds, as we all know, but by the Nocturanian bastard sons. I had a right to know, father.”
Belinda sighed and turned to her father again.
“Why didn’t you trust me?”
Alexander looked down and moaned. “I wanted to protect you, darling. It had nothing to do with trust. You know that I trust you more than I trust anyone.”
“Protect me by lying to me?” Belinda cried.
“Protect you by not telling you that Lucinda openly told me she wanted to remove me from the throne. You are succeeding me on that very throne.” Alexander said, pointing at the gilded seat at the other side of the room. He uttered, more snorted, a very short cry. “It wouldn’t have made you any calmer. You know that. I know you.”
“I had a right to know all the same, no matter how full of temperance my mood swings tend to become,” Belinda said gently. “I really did have the right to know.” There was a long pause. The only things audible to the couple were the occasional crackles from the flames in the fireplace, the steady burning whoosh of the torches and the crickets. Ever so softly, the princess regent said: “Father. I understand your motives, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am worried. Do you really think that she will come back to keep her promise? I lay awake every night and see her standing in the corner.”
Alexander put his hand around his daughter’s waist on her satin dress.
“I have never doubted her hatred, but it is a long time ago.” Alexander said. He smiled. “She attacked you, darling, but maybe that was the return that she told us about. Maybe there’s more.”
“It was a fore warning and you know that.” Belinda said charmingly. “Don’t sweet talk this.”
“I know that if she comes, we will have to cross that bridge when we get to it. We handled her twice. We can handle her a third time. Don’t try to see into the future. No one can. No one.”
Belinda looked out into the darkness again. “She might strike any time, you know that?”
Alexander cleared his throat. “She also might not. We can’t live in fear, Belinda.”
Belinda looked at her father from side. “We can prepare ourselves, can’t we?”
“Yes, love” Alexander cried. “But fear is what she wants us to feel. If we are happy, we live our life to the fullest and she doesn’t intimidate us. Happiness has always been the best revenge.”
“Father,” Belinda countered. “We also ignore her warnings if we walk away.”
“Belinda,” Alexander said, taking both her hands into his and caressing them. “You’re a wonderful girl, but you are going to get married, sweetie. The entire continent will be here watching you. Do yourself a favour and have some fun. Grant yourself the pleasure of just enjoying life. Your aunt can’t ruin that. You are a princess.”
Belinda smiled. “It will be wonderful.” She smiled. “I will take the future as it comes, father. I do promise you this. At the very least I promise I will try to block out the ghosts.”
“It is the only thing we can do.” her father replied. “If we think too much, we’ll go crazy.”
“And I will try have some fun,” she smiled coyly.
“That’s my girl,” the king hoarsely jested. “Have fun. Dance, drink and be merry.”
Merriment would come, but only a prologue to anguish.

Saturday, August 1st, 1422 A.D.

There were orchestras and jugglers and jesters and there were decorations with winners of all categories holding their performances on the stage with Alexander and his family on a special podium as guests. There were citizens on the rooftops throwing colored parchment pamphlets over the kings saying, “Long Live the King!” Someone who received a parchment that couldn’t read would run like the wind to a friend and ask what it said and then call out the written word with such grace and power that a king would be jealous of such strength. There were red carpets and a large new tent with an entire bull stuffed with fruit and vegetables. On a special podium trained monkeys, rabbits and dogs did tricks. From the eastern empires a live trained camel had been imported and it was the talk of the town.
There was a dancing ensemble, which gave the crowd enough reason to clap in rhythm with cheers for the king. Nomed’s fifteen minutes of entertainment had brought ovations from the crowd that seldom had been heard before. The extreme roar that echoed in Clurafar whilst his opening number was being majestically played out was exciting to be sure. He was being lowered on a tightrope from the rooftop down to the stage, leaping with his lute onto the stage with his five drumming jugglers behind him singing a song that he had written for the occasion, where cheers never before were heard. He sang a song that honored the royal family and a song honoring the city. He played the lute so fast in a virtuoso piece that the crowd sat with open mouths. Then the same song came again and he whizzed back to the rooftop and disappeared behind it.
The festivities with the twenty finalists lasted for three hours. Nomed’s performance was the absolute strongest of appearances. The king applauded so hard his hands were aching. So it came as no surprise when the king said to Cretan on the way to the dinner that Nomed deserved to win. The king and his family went to the Senate with Julius Cretan to eat themselves silly. The laughter echoed through halls that day, the wine flowed into their stomachs and Belinda had totally forgotten her fear. The stuffed goose and grilled ostrich, the fried swan and the prepared peacock made everyone realize why they loved this country so. Bantrard had gathered the fifty best musicians of the festival to play during the meal. The wooden tables were packed with silver platters en masse stuffed with the finest cuisine and the ebony cups were filled to the brim with drink and the halls full of song.
It was a drunken ensemble that returned to the jury afterwards. Bantrard sat in the jury and decided in favour of the winner. Morimidar and Rolf were in there as well and had been in agreement with the winner. Theo and a few of Bantrard’s musicians were there as well.
The multitude applauded as the winner was announced and was carried on the camel through town, with one of the jugglers hopping up on the camel and juggling his drums whilst playing. Belinda started dancing to the tune that had her improvising a saltarello to the clap of the crowd, lifting her skirt and taking Steven with her. The day had been absolute happiness. Belinda was completely drunk after arriving home. She had thought herself as more controlled and calm now. Maybe that was not true after all, maybe the attack by the lake had only done one thing: make her even more afraid.
Nomed had stood on the stage for three hours, having entertained the royals for the first hour with only his own songs, playing duets with Bantrard and singing to Bantrard’s lute playing. It was obvious that becoming the winner of the whole competition was more than an honour. Alas, Nomed was so full of himself that he was telling jokes at the royal expense and they were laughing.
It was Nomed’s day, without