Spectral Crown: Chapter Eleven

“This one goes up to eleven.”

First things first: Happy birthday, dad!  The day this gets published, January 19th, is my dad’s birthday.  And then, a few days later on January 23rd, it’s my mom’s birthday, too!  Happy birthday, mom!  I’m sorry I’m not writing full posts for you guys this time around, but I’ll be spending your actual birthdays with you so that’s something exciting, I hope.  It’s exciting for me, at least.  I may be meeting a new person and/or recreational vehicle, and I may or may not be learning to ski.  We’ll just have to find out what happens, I guess.  Happy birthdays!

Speaking of not writing a full post, these last few weeks have been a bit stressful, with a bunch of paper work and medical stuff and seeing family and friends (safely) and getting ready to go back to school for my last semester of college and a ton of other stuff, so I didn’t have time to write a full thing this week.  But that’s ok, because it’s been like three(?) months since I had to fall back and use Spectral Crown, and I think it’s a good idea to remind people once in a while that it exists in case any literary agents and/or people who know literary agents are reading this.  Yeah, I haven’t been actively searching for an agent for a while now, because life is busy, but I’m still on the hunt.  One of these days I’ll write up a new query letter and start emailing strangers again to beg for their money and resources, just like every author has to do at some point.  Well, almost every author, anyway.

So here’s the next chapter of this thing!  Enjoy!  And also, here’s the previous chapter.

Spectral Crown, by Andy Sima: Chapter Eleven

The passages of Castle Blestem seemed unending, and we walked down twisting corridors for ages before reaching a large spiral staircase.  It was made of sparkling marble and a black granite spire at its center, in a style as reminiscent of a checkerboard as much as the rest of the castle.  It spun upwards toward an unseen ceiling, and at each landing the surroundings got darker.

            Us servants, and Reinhard as well, were used to climbing stairs and moving about from place to place, but even these were a bit tiring.  But Iacob’s servants, with their white skin and black garb, never paused to let us catch our breath or readjust our luggage.  They did not move quickly, but rather with enough haste that they were always just in front of us, far enough away that to stand next to them would have required a considerable force of will and force of leg.

            After what felt like far more than three flights of stairs, we made it to a landing that looked just like all the others, and the Blestemat servants led us further down a corridor that was similar to every other corridor we had been in; white and black stone with the occasional torch sconce and vaulted ceilings.  I wondered if this was all intentional, to make traversing the castle as difficult as possible.  Kind of like a spider web.

            We reached a place to break the monotony of long hallways and stairs, as we turned a corner and were met with a moderately-sized door set deep into the wall.  One of Iacob’s servants produced an iron key and unlocked the door.  We stepped inside and found a large open room, sparsely furnished, with just a table in the middle and an enormous, if unremarkable, stone fireplace on one wall.  The table was made of a dark wood, probably oak, and was surrounded by dark wooden chairs.  It was at this table that we were allowed to catch our breath.

            “This is the commons area for your servants’ quarters,” said the tallest pale man.  “Back down the hall we just traveled is the great foyer.  Further down that way,” and he pointed to the other end of the room, “you’ll find water and places to relieve yourselves, should the need strike you.  And in these two doors,” and the tall servant pointed to two dark oak doors that I had not previously noticed, “are the male quarters and female quarters.  Divide yourselves accordingly.”  And without further pomp, the chess board servants passed through us and moved towards the door.

            “Now wait a minute,” Reinhard suddenly spoke up.  “Where am I supposed to eat?  Do you expect me to eat with them?” and he gestured at us.

            Iacob’s attendants stopped and turned around as one.  “Meals shall be brought to the common area at designated times.  You are not to eat elsewhere.  Are there any further questions?”

            “Yes, actually,” Reinhard said, chuckling as he did.  He drew himself up to his full height, or lack thereof.  “What am I supposed to do here?  I must be with King Adalbert to assist him.”

            “As should I,” Simon spoke up.  Reinhard glared at him.

            “You shall find sources of entertainment in your rooms, if that is what you mean,” the servants said.  “When you are needed by your Uradel royals, we shall escort you through the castle.  Until then, do not leave this area.”  There was a note of finality in the tallest one’s tone, and they all turned around as they went back through the wooden door that lead from our quarters into the hallway beyond.  I tried to count them as they left, but no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t reach a satisfactory number.  It was as if every time I looked at them, their total changed.  They shut the door behind them.  There was a moment of silence among us as we heard a key click in the lock on the other side of the door.

            “Those bastards locked us in,” Kolte said, turning to Franz.

            “Indeed they did,” Franz said.  “But like hell are we going to stay here and sit around all day.”  There was a murmur of assent from the rest of the crowd.

            “Maybe we should all just stay here, as the man suggested,” Simon said, hands splayed out in a gesture of good nature.  “It may be easier, don’t you think?”

            “What may be easier still is seeing just how thick that door is,” Freda said.

            “I think,” my mother piped in, always the voice of reason, “that we should leave the locked door to later, and for now we should place our luggage in our quarters and see to it that we are as settled in as we can be, given the circumstances.”

            “I like Josefa’s idea,” Ema said, quietly.

            “I as well,” I said.

            Reinhard was standing off from the rest of us at the front of the room, staring at the wooden door.  “Who do they think they are?” he said to himself.  “Locking me in like that, with these people.  Preposterous.”

            “We can hear you, you know,” someone said.  Reinhard just shook his head.

            “I know that,” he responded.  “I’m not stupid.”  He turned around to face us, and his eyes glinted.  “What are you all looking at?”

            “You,” Kolte suggested.  Reinhard’s face was stony, unwavering, and smiling.

            “That’s right,” he said.  “You’re looking at me instead of working.”

            “What work should they be doing, Richter?” Simon said, stepping in before things got out of hand again.  “There is not much we can do.”

            “It’s Reinhard to you, Taylor,” Reinhard spat.  “And these people should be working on making up my quarters, since we seem to be stuck together.”

            “And on whose orders are those?” Freda said.

            “Mine,” Reinhard said.  He turned back around to face the door and no further conversation could be needled from him.  He seemed to be inspecting the wood grain.

            Realizing that it would be like arguing with a wall, we split ourselves up by male and female and separated out into our respective rooms.  Reinhard did not join us, and we decided, once we were alone, that he could make up his own quarters.

            There were not many quarters to be made.  Our room consisted of a long rectangular space, with a small, empty-eyed fireplace at one end.  There were also two rows of beds, built of stone frames and filled with straw.  At about the middle of the room, against the wall, was a dismal looking bookshelf.  It held a few tomes of illegible nature and an old, broken down chess set.  It was missing most of the pawns, and the knights, but the rest of the pieces were still intact, more or less.  They seemed to be carved of the same black and white stone of the rest of the castle.  These sad excuses for text and playthings must have been what Iacob’s servant referred to as entertainment.  And, I noted with a shiver, there were no windows.

            I put down the trunk and set it next to a bed.  There were no complaints, as there were enough beds for everyone.  I opened my trunk and removed a thin blanket that I had brought from home, and laid it down on the straw, hoping it would mask the itchy nature of the bed spread.  It helped very little as I laid down.

            I sighed and lay still, thinking, and doing my best to ignore the poking into my back.  The bed seemed as if it was not made up of straw, but rather of hands reaching from the floor to grab me with razor fingers.  I glanced to my right, to see Kolte trying and failing to organize the clothes in his trunk, and to my left to find that Franz had fallen asleep face-down in the straw, and was snoring loudly, even though it was probably around noon.  Somewhere in the room, I could hear Simon helping one of the other servants with something or other.

            As I lay in the straw bed, I could not shake the feeling that I was being watched.  I looked up, high into the rafters and buttressed ceilings above me, and thought I saw a shadow flit from beam to beam.  I rubbed my eyes, and looked again, and saw that there was, indeed, a moving shadow.  A small raven, beady black eyes watching me, hopped about the stones above.

            I laid there for a while.  I wasn’t sure exactly how long, as there were no clocks in the room, and no windows either.  I guessed that it must have still been light outside, but I had no way of knowing.  I would have liked to see something of the world beyond this room.

            After a time, the door to our male quarters banged open, and Reinhard stepped inside.  He immediately made his presence known with a high-pitched chuckle, the kind that seemed to suggest the punchline to a joke only he knew.

            “Alright, you fools,” he said.  “Which of you has made up my bed?”  He was answered with a resounding silence and a set of pointed stares.  “What?  Did none of you do as I asked?”

            Simon spoke up.  “With all due respect, Reinhard, it seemed like it would be easiest if you made up your own quarters.  That way there’s no chance of us making a mistake.”

            Reinhard grumbled in response.  “I don’t care about mistakes.  I could have fixed those myself.  I just want my bed made up.  Oh, the king will hear about this insubordination.”

            “Maybe we just didn’t want to do your work for you, for a change,” Franz said under his breath and between puffs of smoke.  Reinhard’s head twisted at a breakneck pace towards Franz’s direction.

            “What was that, Brandt?” Reinhard said, and strode over to Franz.  When Franz was sitting, they were near the same height.  But as Franz stood up, he towered over the little man.

            “I said maybe we didn’t want to do your dirty work,” Franz said.  Reinhard literally stood inside of Franz’s shadow, cast by the torches on the wall, but the mayor did not flinch.

            “I see,” Reinhard said.  “And just how is it that you think you can get away with that?”

            “I don’t think we need to get away with anything,” Franz responded, blowing smoke out of his pipe.  “We don’t answer to you.  We answer to the court.”

            “I am a full member of the court, you imbecile.  You do answer to me,” Reinhard said.  There was a note of warning in his voice, as if Franz had touched a delicate nerve.

            “Then why are you here with us?” Franz shot the smoke in Reinhard’s direction.  When it cleared, the small man’s face was ruby-red and furious.  But he never lost his smile.

            “Because the King needs me to keep you all in line,” Reinhard said.  I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.  “And when he hears about what you have said to me, how you accused me and attacked me, he will have me skin you alive.”

            “Attacked you?” Franz said, a bit confused.  “I haven’t laid a finger on you.  Your character, maybe, but not you.”

            Kolte’s eyes were huge.  “Franz, you’re on rough seas, my friend.  Drop it.”

Reinhard chuckled again.  “And if I were to tell the king that you attacked me, and if I were to believe it myself, how would you prove otherwise?  Who would believe an ape like you?”

            Franz began to sweat between shots of smoke.  “Suppose I just kill you now,” Franz said.  “What then?”

            “Why, then we all know exactly who did it.  You won’t live to see tomorrow.”  And the smile grew wider.  “And neither will your sister.”

            Franz lost it there.  “She has no part in this!  You leave her out.”

            “Oh?” Reinhard giggled.  “Maybe I’ll leave you alive, convict her instead.  That would be worse for you, wouldn’t it?  To know that your actions killed your sister?”  We knew that Reinhard held that power, even in death.  As long as the soldiers listened to Reinhard and the court, there was nothing we could do.

            “So you see the truth now,” Reinhard said, stepping back from Franz.  “I might be able to forgive this whole debacle, if my bed is made up for me.  But I do not forget anything.”

            Franz stood there a moment, and then got the message.  He groveled something and headed towards the space where Reinhard kept his luggage.

            “What was that?” the small man asked.

            “Yes, sir,” Franz annunciated.  His steps were plodding and slow, but his eyes were furious.

            “Good.  If you need me, I will be in the commons area.”  And with that, Reinhard left the room.  There was only silence, and the sound of Franz opening a trunk, in his wake.

            The tension subsided ever so slowly as the small bed was made up, and we watched Franz work, for we had nothing else to do.  A few moments after Franz had completed his assigned task, there was an unexpected knocking from the back of the room.  We all looked up, and glanced towards the fireplace, where the sound had seemingly come from.  There was a small metal door next to the fireplace, set in a deep recess on the right wall.  As Kolte opened the door and Ema stepped through from the female quarters.

            “Josefa would like to call a small meeting, in our room,” Ema said.  “Without Reinhard.”

            “That will be easy,” Kolte said.  “He has been in the common room for a while now.”

            “We are aware,” Ema said.  “Now please, hurry.  We haven’t got much time before Reinhard comes back, I suspect.”

            We moved with a bit of haste in our step, making our way to the back of the room and through the iron door.  It surprised me how I had not noticed it before.  We stepped through the doorway and entered into the quarters of the female servants.

            It was depressingly identical to our own room, from the fireplace and rows of stone beds to the broken down books and ruined chess boards.  The only difference were the inhabitants, who were gathered in the center of the room, awaiting our arrival.  We made our way over.

            “Well met, all,” Simon said, adjusting his glasses.  “What is the purpose of this gathering?”

            “I believe that should be obvious,” Josefa, my mother, said.  “Our circumstances here are quite unusual.”  Simon sagged a little bit.

            “Yes, I agree,” he said.  “But what can we do?”

            “Not much,” Ema said.  “We tried the door back to the main hall, earlier.  It is, indeed, locked.”

            “It won’t budge,” one of the maids added.

            “I even tried kicking it down, or shoving it over, after picking the lock failed.  Nothin’ worked,” Freda said, disheartened.

            “So we are utterly trapped in here?” I said.

            “Like rats in a cage,” my mother assented, eyes stopping on every face in the group.  “We have no way to know what is going on, no way to leave, no way to contact anything or anyone, save Prince Iacob’s servants, who seem to have the only key.”

            “Why do we so desperately need to leave?” one of the younger servants asked.  “Perhaps we can just bide our time here until the wedding.  At least we aren’t working.”

            “This is true,” my mother said.  “But I do not feel safe here.  There are secrets that we are not being told.  Despite the locked door, I fear for our safety.” 

            “So what are we to do, then?” Ema said.  “The door won’t move, there are no windows or other entryways, and Lord knows Reinhard won’t lift a finger to help us.  But even if he would, he’s trapped in here, with us.”

            “No,” Kolte said.  “We’re trapped in here with him.”  And a shiver ran down the old sailor’s tall frame.

            “It seems,” Simon said, “our only option is to wait and see what happens.”

            “That’s what I was afraid of,” my mother nodded her head.  “No one has any other ideas?”

            She was met with silence.

            “Alright,” she said.  “We wait.”

            We didn’t have to wait very long, as there was a knock at the door to the female quarters, and the voice of Iacob’s servant spoke through from the other side.  “We have brought your meals to the common room.  That is all.”

            “That’s funny,” I said.   “I hadn’t heard the door open.”

            “Neither had I,” my mother said.

            As a group, we walked towards the door, and upon opening it, saw that the common room beyond was empty of people except for Reinhard, who had already begun digging in to his meal.  And a meal it was, for the tables were loaded with loaves of bread, jugs of water and wine, and fine assortments of seasonal vegetables and meats.  It was a veritable feast compared to the normal rations of leftovers we received from the Uradels.

            “Whatever we may think of the Blestemats,” Simon started, “let it never be said that they didn’t feed us well.”

            “Quite,” my mother responded.  No one moved, however.

            “What are we waiting for?” Franz said, and made his way over to a table.  Freda followed, and upon sitting, they began ripping into what I guessed were turkey legs, or some other sort of poultry.  The food did look entrancing.

            “What are we waiting for, indeed,” Simon said, and he, too, walked over to the table.  He took a seat next to Franz, and other servants soon followed.  Ema snorted in surprise at the quality of the food.  She was quickly followed by my mother and the other maids.  But something seemed off to me.

            “Reinhard,” I said, still standing at the door to the female quarters.  “Did you see anyone bring this food in?”

            “Can’t say that I did,” he admitted between bites of bread and swigs of red wine.  “I was exploring the lavatories, and when I returned, there was food.  I suggest you stop questioning and sit down.”

            I nodded, for I had expected nothing less.  I turned and walked back towards the front door, where I assumed the food would have been brought from.  I grabbed the handle and tried opening it.  No luck.  It occurred to me that I had never heard the door shut, either.

Spectral Crown was on a much longer hiatus this time around, which is actually a good thing because it means I have more time for writing original material and I’m not swamped with work to do.  But we’ll see how long it is again before I have to do this same thing!  Who knows anymore?  Thanks for reading!

Hey, why have I always used castles and never ravens? Ravens are so much easier to find good pictures for.

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