Annatrice of Cayborne (7 page)

The seasons flew by and Annatrice blossomed from a child to a young woman of formidable beauty and intellect. The affairs of the Kingdom began to grow turbulent as Annatrice approached the fifteenth year of her life. Despite being sheltered from the politics of the land, Annatrice often heard members of the castle staff gossip about the growing tensions between the land of Araman and their westerly neighbours, Suleyman. The history of the southern half of the Protathaian Isles was replete with conflict and aggressive diplomacy. Once a great unified nation, Araman was the product of a great war of Kings, not of the people. It seemed that the ambitious and noxious Tragian had been once again teasing the leashed dog. The opposing ruler of Suleyman, Deo Canthi, would only tolerate so much prodding before he slipped his bonds and snapped at his tormentor.

In this year of uncertainty, Araman also saw the Tharsi Plague, a debilitating disease originating in the northern borders of East Corustyn and a mighty and prolonged storm which maimed and killed many, destroying homes and businesses in the process. It was a depressing period for the people of Araman and the pressure was telling on the monarchy and all those who held power across the land.

In the days that followed Annatrice's birthday, the eldest of Marianne's girls left abruptly and without so much as a farewell. Marianne delivered the shocking but apparently heart-warming news that Abidelle, daughter of Froggat of Fynesmeade had been taken as a wife by the Lord Jakk of Upper Haywear. After the initial tears of loss, the ladies rejoiced for their departed friend and talked triumphantly about her future life as a Lady of fine repute. Annatrice thought it all rather sudden and inappropriate. Abidelle had not mentioned a forthcoming engagement and thus she would assume she knew nothing of this man. Whilst the other girls celebrated, Annatrice found little comfort in a future where she was to be sold off to the highest bidder, little more than a slave to some equally depraved and possibly tyrannical noble. It was a reminder to Annatrice that the nectar she drank and the silken threads that she wore were ultimately for a purpose. Knowing the King's devious and selfish nature, Annatrice kicked herself for allowing a complacency to breed which would ultimately result in the same sudden end to her oblivious comforts.

In the year or so that had passed, Annatrice had grown into the role of the King's servant with little protest or defiance. She was not the same naïve child that once stood in the Royal Court stained in blood and dirt. As she looked out of the shutters of the day room with the blazing summer sun shining across Fontayne's courtyard, she suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She had allowed herself to be blinded by finery, comforted by ignorance; she had even grown accepting of the King's assaults. At that moment she remembered her father and bit her lip hard. She had almost forgotten his face, his voice, his touch. Across the valley, Annatrice could see the glistening walls of Karick and beyond, barely visible in the distance, the misty peaks of the Cayborne Hills. Why had she allowed herself to become the living embodiment of everything that her father had stood against at the cost of his very life? She was ashamed, she was restless and she was ready to act to restore her pride and dignity.

CHAPTER NINE

Annatrice lay on the King's gargantuan bed, breathing heavily her teeth firmly clenched together, her body oozing hatred as Tragian rolled over and sighed, his naked form shielded from his victims eyes as she turned her head away. Stealthily reaching for her night gown which had been removed as directed, she pulled it from the floor and silently manipulated her body into it.

The room was lit by a hundred candles, a small log fire popped and crackled on the far side of the large chamber which was adorned with magnificent fabrics bearing stories of legend in its gilded fibres. Her head was spinning, her own thoughts and her abusers intermingling causing terrible conflicts which almost blinded Annatrice's vision. Usually at this point, the victim would await a silent and rudely opulent wave away, meaning she could quietly leave and return to her bed but this time, Annatrice felt more aggrieved than she had done in some time. She courageously sat up and turned towards the King, his hairy and spindly body repulsing her. As he lay on the absurdly wide bed, wide enough to accommodate ten men, she closed her eyes. Instead of fighting the intrusive feelings that tormented her she made a conscious effort to sort them, filter them into some kind of order. She compartmentalised her own emotionally charged feelings and sought only to capture the mind of her King. It was her intention to break past the usual more visceral factors; she had no intention of basking in his warm glow of pleasure or feel the tired numbness of his weary body. These were feelings that she had no interest in, what she was more determined to do was to actively explore the King's sub consciousness, raid the knowledge that he possessed and use it as a weapon against him.

Time seemed to slow down as she entered his realm, her own body pained and sore; she banished all thoughts of her own torment. Her eyes closed, the black void of her link with Tragian suddenly crackled into light, fleeting glimpses into scrambled imagery, no order or comprehension. The bridge between the two minds was almost complete, the very final piece was about to be put into place when there was a seismic eruption in Annatrice's dreamlike state, a force that wrenched her searching tendrils away from that place and struck her like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes flickered open and she sharply inhaled with fright as Tragian's face was close to hers, his eyes wide and penetrative.

“What are you doing?” He asked with sinister overtones. Annatrice's heart fluttered what had he seen in their mutual bonding?

“Nothing, Sire.” She replied hastily, clearly spooked by the proximity of Tragian's nose against her own.

“Just...tired.” She added as he pulled away. He looked suspicious and rightly so.

“Just tired heh? I don't know why, you did not do anything. You remind me of the Dragh, useless creatures basking in the mud, too idle to move, their brains too slow, and their thoughts too remedial. If you put more of an effort it you might find it all the more rewarding?”

Tragian's tone was always accompanied with a sneer, an air of superiority and a cutting remark designed to keep his subordinates in their place. Annatrice found his distasteful commentary enough to warrant an argument although any actions with the King were tempered with caution.

“You would prefer it if I fought back?” She asked provocatively.

“Now you're finally learning something.” He replied with a grin, his front teeth revealed a large central gap.

“What is the point of fighting when there can only be one victor, the contest designed by the same, the rules changed to suit?” Annatrice felt quite bold, it was refreshing to vent her frustrations, and she had barely spoken to the King since the first days.

“Ha! You are just like your father! Like you, he was quick witted yet blinkered. He whined and whinnied like a prancing mare yet learned nothing about the order of the things. His intellect was second only to his ignorance.”

“I shall never know if what you say is the truth, you have deprived me of that privilege. The man I knew was wise and noble, he could not know the wealth and prestige you covet yet squander.”

Tragian reared up and turned his mouth downwards.

“Oh really? How little she knows of her father's most sordid past!” Tragian cried out, amusing himself at her expense.

Annatrice was taken aback by the news that Tragian's connections with her father were more than just a distant displeasure.

“To what are you referring?” She inquired, feeling that Tragian held secrets that he had not yet disclosed.

“My my, have you not figured it out yet? Why do you think a peasant girl could ever possibly find a place within the Royal Court? Did it not ever occur to you why you lived the life of a surf but spoke so eloquently? You really do have a lot to learn, Marianne must be failing in her tutelage, perhaps I shall find a place on the axe man's block for her?”

Annatrice's mind was a muddle, she could feel that Tragian's threats were empty but the cold hard truth could not be so easily concealed and there was plenty of that in Tragian's barbed revelation.

“You are saying that my father was of nobility?” Annatrice was perhaps asking the obvious but needed verbal confirmation; she had not yet learned to trust her instincts.

“Nobility yes, noble...hardly. Such a scoundrel should never have bore a coat of arms.”

Tragian's dislike of her father was evident, but it did not explain why or how he had been castigated in such a fashion.

“Sire, I bid you tell me of this man who I knew as my father but who could not bring himself to tell me his previous sins.”

Annatrice was desperate, she did not long to hear Tragian's spiteful tale but maybe she could garner the truth as he spoke it from looking more deeply into his beady, ice blue eyes.

“I shall not bore you with tales of woe; needless to say he was shamed and dethroned, sent into exile by foolhardy elders with a soft underbelly when his summary execution should have been the only result. His crimes are a matter of public record, if you wish I shall order a copy of the papers from the records office at Karick. Needless to say, I should receive thanks for rescuing you from a life of peasantry and ridding the land of the tyrant once and for all.”

Annatrice's face was reddened, her eyes moist. Tyrant was not a word she could ever have associated with her father. The Kings words carried weight and he was certainly confident that his account would be ratified by the public records, but Annatrice could feel something inside Tragian. There was far more to the account than he portrayed, there was treachery, regret but most of all guilt. Annatrice boiled over with hatred for the naked man who knelt before her; if she had the means she would have killed him there and then.

“You have the crown of the King but in my eyes you are the slime that creeps up the Karick walls, I spit on your claims to the throne as did my father, you are not worthy of a hole in the ground let alone a kingdom.”

Annatrice's vitriol could only ever result in one thing and no sooner had she spat her final word; a brutal fist was cast across her face sending her reeling from the high bed to the cold stone floor beneath. Looking up at her attacker, her head spinning with the taste of blood in her mouth, her connection with her nemesis was complete. At every stroke of his heel upon her defenceless body and every beat of his clenched fist, she tore into his subconscious, raping him of his most secretive thoughts and his most base desires. Little did Tragian know that every time his rage demanded yet another strike on the tiny prone body curled up beneath his boot, his power was being stripped from him, bit by bit, memory by memory? As Annatrice's consciousness began to ebb, the visions which seemed so random, transient and incoherent began to reach a form of clarity. It was the clarity of truth which would change the way Annatrice would regard the world in which she lived in forever.

CHAPTER TEN

When the morning light breached the darkness of the dormitory the next day and the ladies murmured, bleary eyed into a state of awakening, they would find Annatrice curled up into a protective ball, gently rocking, her blood and tear stained pillow sopping wet. The girls immediately called for Marianne who tended to her dependent with a bowl of luke-warm water and a set of dry towels. Pleading to be left alone, Marianne ushered the girls into the day room and left them eating breakfast in contemplative silence. Annatrice's guardian sat at her bedside and pulled her upright. Her body was tight, rigid and she shook persistently despite the warmth of the room as the morning fires emanated their morning heat.

“By the Gods, Annatrice. What happened?” Marianne inquired. Not only was Annatrice battered from head to toe but her usual spirit had been quelled.

“A great injustice.” Annatrice replied in a pained whisper. Her lips were so swelled that her speech was impeded.

“What caused this? Did you anger the King?” The question seemed pertinent and Marianne was not far from the truth, but it was not the physical pain which haunted the young woman.

“He should not be the King. There has been a great injustice, a conspiracy.” Marianne raised her eyebrows.

“That is all well and good but it changes little even if you are correct.”

Annatrice pulled herself up so that she sat leaning against the dark hardwood headboard. Marianne mopped at her lips with the warm, clean water.

“Do you remember a long time ago when you asked me about my visions, my ability to see peoples thoughts?”

Marianne nodded. If she remembered correctly, she insisted that Annatrice keep her powers in check for the benefit of the other girls.

“Well, I think that I have taken a great step in understanding how it all works.” Annatrice looked into Marianne's eyes, her guardian looked tentative.

“I can see things that I have no right to. I can see myself now, through your eyes. I look at my own blackened face and feel your love for me. It gives me great resolve.”

Marianne recoiled; she searched her thoughts and suddenly felt an invasion of her privacy, a subtle but curious feeling.

“Stop it Annatrice, I can feel it.” The elder woman whispered.

“I mean you no harm and have no wish to make you feel ill at ease. You see, I cannot help myself. It is the pain, it propagates these visions, the deeper the agony the greater the effect. With the aching of my limbs I can feel your emotions, see your thoughts, with the break of a bone, I can tear through your memory like running through a maze of tunnels, choosing which way to turn in order to reach my goal. I can see your life's path mapped out before me; I can explore your past, from the first breath at your birth to the here and now. With every passing minute, I begin to understand how it all works, what can be achieved and what the limitations are.”