Anchorite and the The Heart of Effie. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT. THE MESSAGE IN THE BASKET

The courtiers and advisers of the royal council were already accustomed to seeing the queen in constant indignation, but today Parnasida herself was not happy about this: she could not concentrate at all, even when the treasurer raised the burning topic of raising taxes for the inhabitants of Embry at a meeting of royal advisers. He said something else about increasing the cost of the royal guard and the discontent of the people, occasionally pausing, stroking his bald head shining with brilliance and casting a piercing glance at the queen, that was sitting at the head of a round oak table with a empty gaze directed to an indefinite point, and with a completely absent look.
The Treasurer's name was Lenore, but almost no one at court called this cunning man by his first name. To be honest, the other members of the royal council tried to intersect with Lenore as little as possible: few people knew this in practice, but the reputation of the treasurer was a slippery and calculated person. He could both frame a person and doom him to suffering, if it promised him the benefit that he could get from any situation that was something like chess games for him, where he masterfully moved the pieces and usually turned out to win. The queen herself knew about such an ambiguous person in her council, she knew what kind of conspiracies her faithful treasurer could instigate of, but as far as she was concerned. Coins regularly entered the royal treasury, and the rest was not so important.
Today, Lenore noticed the Queen's peculiar absent-mindedness, so he quickly reported on the expenses for the army and sat down in his high-backed chair, exchanging glances with the other members of the assembly. Next, Aimus Longorin, a stocky, shaggy man in a lilac robe, was to announce his report on the state of the castle and its environs. He had a high, almost teenage voice. Aimus said that the tomb, in which members of the royal family had been buried for centuries, began to fill with water again yesterday due to the proximity of the dungeon to the bay, which meant that some funds were needed to repair and restore the masonry.
'Last time, the savings reached an unacceptable level,' Aimus argued, trying to get at least some reaction from the queen, however, to no avail. 'And now, look. It's only been six months, and restoration work in the dungeon is again required. I ask, Your Majesty, this time to double the funding for such an important work. Avarice always hits the treasury with double force.'
'Money is barely enough for the army and the maintenance of the inhabitants of the castle,' Lenore said, looking thoughtfully to the side. 'It is necessary to take care first of all of the well-being of the living ones. For the deceased, comfort is useless. If there is water in the dungeon, then this will not affect the state of the castle in any way, am I right? It's not about total flooding, but just a slight dampness?'
'Be afraid of holly Five, Mr. Treasurer!' Aimus stood up indignantly. 'You are not talking about some commoners, but about the deceased members of the royal dynasty! For centuries, the most noble men of royal blood have been lying there! We can not…'
'Lords! Lords! Let's not get excited!' calmly but loudly interrupted the argument between the two men by an elderly person, gray-haired and looking very decrepit. It was the queen's physician, Aeneus Torbias. Everyone respected him very much for obvious reasons and always tried to listen. Straight now his weighty word put an end to the sudden dispute.
Parnasida, without waiting for the next report and falsely thanking the elders, got up from the table and went out. She headed to the eastern part of the castle, from the windows of which the gates and the panorama of the gray, dirty Embry, the city that Parnasida was the queen for and which she hated, and even disdained. Today, however, her gaze sank into the view of Embry like the fangs of a hungry wolf into a defenseless rabbit that was twitching in its death throes. She stood like that long enough until her attention was drawn to Lenore, who seemed like appeared out of nowhere. Dressed in a dark blue robe, he looked like a outlandish big bird, and a sly smile did not leave his thin lips.
At first, Lenore simply stood next to the Queen, his gaze fixed on the garden, the gates, and the black-and-gray city. The queen paid no attention to this, and for several minutes they simply stood there, in compete silence.
'Is something going on, Your Majesty?' Lenore said bowing, breaking the silence.
She chuckled a little audibly, and answered without even deigning the treasurer with a glance:
'Every second in the world there is a lot of events to happen. Be specific, master of coins.'
Coin Master. That was the name of Lenore's position, and that's how he was called by everyone with whom the treasurer dealt in the course of his business. The queen's answer cheered him up, and his smile grew even wider.
'If something important is happening to you, Your Majesty, it's best to let me in on it. I have proved my loyalty to you: thanks to my help, you got rid of Primus, may the Five bless his soul in peace. And I will do everything to keep you well-being and safety.'
Parnasida was silent. She kept a cold indifference to the master of coins. But it didn't upset him at all. Rather, he is already accustomed to such an attitude.
'Your Majesty,' the man insisted. 'Today you seem very preoccupied with something unknown to me. At the meeting of the elders, you didn't say a word. I am extremely concerned.'
Contrary to what he said, Lenore didn't look worried. It was never possible to judge by his emotions what mood the treasurer was in. The coin master was also an amazing master of camouflage.
'You spoke of rebellions and unrest,' said Parnasida. 'Is there a real possibility of an uprising?'
The treasurer, obviously expecting other words, nevertheless answered.
'We suppress unrest among the city people in a simple and reliable way. Several demonstrative executions - and even the most ardent rebels begin to think twice before opening their mouths. You have nothing to worry about. However, you are still excited about something. I dare say you're expecting a guest, Your Majesty?'
Then Parnasida narrowed her eyes in intrigue and turned her head, casting a glance at Lenore.
'Why do I think that most of the questions you ask are purely formal and do not need an answer?' slightly arrogant, but with a pinch of coquettishness, the queen said and again directed her gaze to the gate. She sighed heavily and nodded perceptibly, furrowing.
'Sorry, Your Majesty,' Lenore sighed. 'As your coin master and closest adviser, I take it upon myself to say that your secret mission and servant who assist in achieving your goal take too much of your attention.'
'I know that Embry is practically in ruins, and people are dying in poverty. And I also know that there are not enough funds to maintain the royal army. If you want to tell me about it, then it’s better to keep your lips sealed, otherwise I will begin to doubt not only your tact, but also your mental abilities.'
'Excuse me, Your Majesty. And don't take it as arrogance. You not only give all your efforts to gaining eternal youth, but also place too high hopes on this young man whom you are waiting for. An ardent feeling, which is very, very changeable and contradictory, especially for a youth, drives him, green and shortsighted. Dealing with the emotions of young people is extremely dangerous. Sometimes they are changeable and transient.'
Despite the fact that Lenore talked with the queen, who sometimes allowed herself to be quite rude and arrogant with her subjects, nevertheless the treasurer did not feel either fear or trembling before Parnasida, and there were several good reasons for that. But the man also did not allow himself to be reckless, keeping his distance and showing patience and caution.
'Tristan is doing a very important job,' the queen replied. 'And today he performs one of the most important assignments. This is a matter of life and death.'
'And this particular matter of the witch from the Spider's End?' the treasurer asked one more question. And here, too, an answer was not needed. The queen was not even surprised how Lenore knew about what Taurentius had said just a day ago about the witch Estella.
'You are the keeper of many secrets,' Parnasida nodded. 'You should know that trifles never become secrets. Taurentius wouldn’t make such a promise for no reason. It's also a very good deal for him. Estella from Spider's End is the only best option for me. An option that gives me hope to throw off the yoke of decrepitude from my tired neck forever. You, my coin master, know as well as any other pundit how important this is to me. I will be a good queen, fair and sympathetic, no match for the simple-minded Primus. And I will take the throne for ages, young and beautiful.'
'Amazingly said, Your Majesty,' Lenore showed insincere delight. 'Spider End is one of the most dangerous areas in the city, according to the governor's reports. Did you think that something could happen to your young servant? Or perhaps the naive Tristan fell victim to his doubts? To feel romantic feelings for a queen is not an enterprise for the weak of spirit.'
'Yes,' said Parnasida irritably. 'Both of these came to my mind. Thank you for voicing, you are, as always, very ... insightful.'
The queen moved away from the archway and walked slowly down the corridor leading to the main hall. The corridor was long, and the master of coins did not even think of leaving Parnasida alone, walking along with her.
'You probably think that I'm too pushy, but the old adage says: "If you want to do something, do it yourself." You are the queen. All the guards of the kingdom are for your protection. If you could resolve this issue yourself by taking, say, a few brave warriors and visiting this mysterious Estella in person, the process would be greatly accelerated. And the sooner you could start ruling the capital, proving your worth both to the council of elders and to the people, whose love is much easier to win than it might seem at first glance...'
'If you don’t leave me alone, master of coins, then I will take those very brave warriors whom you so stubbornly advise me and order them to help you,' the queen rapped out, also not even looking at her interlocutor. 'Trust me, I appreciate your advice and appreciate your role, but I'm not ready for the discussions you want here. Leave me now!'
Parnasida drove the disturbing thoughts out of her head in the same way as she drove the persistent treasurer away. But thoughts, unlike Lenore's presence, kept storming her head repeatedly with new force. The coin master was right, of course. And his advice was more than obvious to the queen. The only reason she didn't go to the city herself was, oddly enough, pure vanity. it was not considered appropriate for the queen to descend into dirty alleys, stank with urine and death, and communicate with the rabble. Cause the thought of coming into contact with this world of poverty and despondency, both disgust and anxiety always woke in Parnasida.
Lenore remained in the east corridor, while Parnasida hurried to the main hall leading to the throne room. The throne room didn't seem like the largest room in the castle, but it wasn't, simply because the lion's share of the space was occupied by an impressive throne, towering over all the decoration. The huge colossus looked like an ordinary chair with a high back, which was wrapped around a cast of metal snakes, no less than a dozen, and the arms looked like stone geographical maps with engraved figures and reliefs. In fact, it was this way. The king sitting on the throne could look at the stone miniatures of the eastern and western parts of the city. Primus found these details of the throne very entertaining and useful, Parnasida called the cold throne a seat full of discomfort, and after the death of the king, she first ordered all kinds of pillows and soft beddings to be placed on the marble seat. And the miniatures of the city for the queen were nothing more than a simple trinket.
Here Parnasida spent about an hour alone. She was completely lost in thought, seriously considering the coin master's advice. If Tristan fails the mission, taking matters into her own hands will be the only option. Of course, Tristan's failure would be a reason for the queen's displeasure, but Parnasida did not want to lose her regular loyal doggy either. In any case, the boy will find out at least something about this Estella, and this information can also be quite useful in the future.
It seemed like an eternity before the high doors swung open and one of the guards burst into the throne room. He was walking at a brisk pace towards the queen. Several guardsmen hurried after him, and Lenore was also among them. All this excitement frightened the queen very much, but she did not show it, continuing to sit on the throne and not taking her eyes off the approaching guard.
He was a tall man in armor with curly hair down to his shoulders and a gray, scarred face. In his hands he held a small basket, in which lay something covered with an old gray rag folded several times. The guard's name was Temperance, he had served the royal court for ten years, was loyal to King Primus, and after the death of his master, he constantly tried to find out the true reasons for the event, being sure that it was not an accidental death at all, but a real murder. Because of this, he lost the opportunity to fulfill his duty directly at the court and was sent to guard the gates of the palace. For this reason it was Temperance who became the messenger today. He carried bad news with him. It was clear from his face, which mixed fear and anger.
'Excuse me, Your Majesty,' thundered one of the guards, who managed to grab Temperance by the arm and stop him, preventing him from getting close to the throne. However, he still managed to get to his goal, literally throwing the basket at the foot of the throne. Miraculously, she didn't roll over as she slid across the shiny marble floor.
'He smuggled into the castle. We didn't even notice...'
'Left your post! Unthinkable!'
The excuses of the guardsmen rained down. The queen got up from her throne and walked over to the basket. Looking down at the present, she turned her gaze to Temperance.
'What is this?' Parnasida said majestically and loudly.
'Don't touch it. Perhaps there is something dangerous…' said the master of coins seriously. He also approached the basket, walking around it, carefully examining it from all sides.
'What’s in the basket won’t hurt your soul, Your Majesty. Because you don’t have a soul at all!' Temperance shouted in a falling voice.
These words cost him dearly. The first blow fell on the stomach, the second - in the chest, the third - in the face. The guards beat the poor fellow mercilessly until he bent with pain and collapsed to the floor, coughing up blood. Parnasida merely cast a brief condescending glance at the scene and returned to the basket.
'Let me be the first to see it, queen,' Lenore said.
Parnasida, after considering this proposal for a moment, nodded. Icy fear took possession of her more than ever. But the master of coins, judging by his behavior, was not at all frightened. Rather, it could be said that the treasurer was impatient and curious. Having sat down at the basket, he removed the rag, under which the human head had been placed.
Parnasida froze in horror. Holding her breath, she let out a muffled groan, covering her mouth with her hand. Of course, the queen had seen death before, she knew what blood and murder are, but now the contents of the basket brought Parnasida into a state of wild, almost animal fear. Hoping that her eyes were failing her, the queen approached the basket, leaning forward a little, and ascertained that the head belonged to Tristan, her young lover.
Parnasida glanced at the master of coins. Because of the fact that Lenore knew everything and always, now the queen expected answers from him again, but he, only reaching his hand to the bloodied head, took out an envelope from the basket, which lay between the crown of his head and the wall of the basket. The envelope had the Queen's name written in beautiful handwriting. Not having the audacity to read other people's letters, Lenore handed the envelope to the addressee. With a trembling hand, Parnasida took the envelope.
Turning to the guards, she said:
'Return to your posts. The ringleader too. I'll deal with you later. Now, away! You all go back to what you're supposed to be doing.'
The guards withdrew, dragging the battered man who appeared to be in a semi-conscious state. As soon as the doors were closed, the queen, as if forgetting about the envelope clutched in pale thin fingers, looked at the master of coins.
'The poor guard man must have looked into the basket, and his mind has gone haywire,' Lenore said. 'If I'm not mistaken, he knew this dead youth. And if you pay close attention to the desperation of this guard, young Tristan was, at least, his friend...'
'I didn’t know that,' whispered Parnasida, looking at the head of a very young lover. She could not understand what emotions she was experiencing in connection with the death of Tristan and whether these emotions even existed at that moment.
'For this, there are people, your faithful courtiers and servants who will know everything for you,' the master of coins simply said, covering his head with a rag, not wanting to look at such a nightmarish picture anymore.
'But what does it all mean?' the queen asked as if to herself, moving away from the basket and returning to the throne, had sat on it in impotence.
'I guess all the answers are in this note,' Lenore suggested. 'Open it up.'
Without waiting another moment, Parnasida opened the envelope and took out a small sheet containing a short message.

“Come alone at midnight. You will get what you are looking for. Keep the invitation in secret. Destroy the letter after reading. Any third party will suffer the same fate as this boy. Estella."

Consciousness did not accept the obvious reality, which is why the queen had to re-read the note several times, looking for some hidden meanings, which, perhaps, did not exist. Breathing heavily, Parnasida returned to the basket, grabbed it and headed for the huge fireplace that heated the throne room. There was almost no fire in the fireplace, but large lumps of coal smoldered, spewing sparks from time to time. As soon as the basket and the note were among these coals, they crackled, and straight after this moment, they gave off weak flames, gradually growing and absorbing the long-awaited treat. Then Parnasida just stood by the fireplace, looking at the fire and trying to calm the trembling of her body. She really didn't know what to do. Thoughts mingled in chaos. Estella was real. Taurentius did not deceive. The witch exists and now knows what the queen wants. The queen need to use this chance. Must not miss it.
'Your Majesty? What was in the note?' the master of coins said softly, as if he was afraid to frighten off the already frightened queen.
Parnasida unexpectedly let out a scream that echoed through the throne room and returned like a boomerang.
'Out! Go away! Now!'
Bowing humbly, Lenore trotted to the exit and disappeared behind the doors. The Queen was going to take a chance. Terrible pictures arose in her head: she saw how her head was separated from her body and fell into a straw basket. She saw the clear outlines of death. Under the light from the flames, the queen looked down at her hands. The skin on them was already noticeably flabby again, ugly pigment spots were breaking through. Tristan is no more, and no one will bring another silly girl to the sacrifice. And, perhaps, tomorrow Parnasida will turn into a fragile old woman, a pathetic likeness of the former Queen Embry. Clenching her fingers, Parnasida looked again at the fire-swallowed basket, and a few stingy tears came out of her eyes.