Anchorite and the The Heart of Effie. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. THE VANISHED HOUSE

Parnasida could forget herself only for a couple of minutes, which either turned into an eternity in strange dreams, or became a terrible viscous half-sleep, but when a clear consciousness returned to the queen's head, she, to her great surprise, noticed that she was still alive. Ideas about how the impoverished citizens of Embry lived had hardly visited the head of Parnasida before, and now there was only one thought - how can one sleep outside in such a cold night after night? Legs, it seemed, were not even felt from the cold. The trembling body was covered only by a black cloak, in which the queen tried to wrap herself up repeatedly in unsuccessful attempts to keep warm. However, there was nothing to be done.
Immediately after the incident with the witch Estella, Parnasida tried to return to the castle, but the guards did not let her in. And no wonder: there was not a trace left of the face of the beautiful queen. Now it was just a decrepit, ugly old woman. For the second night she had to live the life to which she had preferred to turn a blind eye for so long.
The morning came not when the sun rose above the horizon and not when the square was filled with people and din, but when someone very rudely kicked Parnasida with his foot. Her body, clinging to a stone wall, fell to the ground. The woman began to move reluctantly and showed her face from under the hood.
In front of her stood, a tall guardsman in armor, and his face expressed at least disgust. It was obvious that the young person was simply disgusted to be next to a stinking ugly beggar woman.
'Hey, you!' with disdain the guardsman threw. 'It is forbidden for vagrants to sleep in the square during the day! Get out of here!'
Parnasida did not answer. From weakness, it seems that she even lost her voice, uttering a strange wheeze instead of words. Fortunately, the guardsman, who clearly did not want to inhale the vile old woman's smell anymore, stepped aside. People were bustling around, a crowd was gathering. Somewhere not far away, at least a dozen guardsmen could be seen riding the snow-white royal horses. It was an escort of one of the members of the royal council. Parnasida suddenly thought that this was nothing but a chance for salvation. But she couldn't find the strength to get up. The first attempt did not lead to success: her legs buckled, and the queen fell next to the trading store, hitting her face in some kind of sewage. Spitting and choking on tears, she raised herself on trembling arms and slowly crawled, dragging her body across the stone firmament. Shouting also did not work: the voice was hoarse and did not give out anything but a creaky whisper.
The crowd surrounded the royal escort and Parnasida could no longer get through to the man, who jumped loudly from his horse and began to speak. The voice was so familiar that the queen recognized it immediately. The master of coins, the royal treasurer Lenore, arrived in the city. He spoke very loudly, delivering an important announcement to the people of Embry.
'Citizens of the capital Embry,' boomed the voice of the treasurer. 'Today I came to you with some big news. I'll start with a good one, because we all lack good news in our troubled times. May joy be with you, because from today the taxes for each of you will be exactly two times less than they were before this day.'
The crowd, usually reacting to announcements from the royal palace with, at best, tolerable indifference, exploded with joyful jubilation. A little later, to calm the jubilant din, the master of coins raised his hand, drawing attention to himself and demanding silence.
'Yes, fortunately, the royal court still made such a decision, since the cost of the guards became somewhat lower. But that's not all, dear citizens. Our Embry will now be able to begin its recovery, since a peace treaty has been concluded with Taurentius, a wizard from the West of Abbaddon. Now we can all live in peace and security and beautify the capital. All the poor will be given work. You will be able to ennoble your home, and the royal court will closely monitor all this. Finally, our glorious Embry will have a chance for a bright future, friends!'
The people as well as the previous one received this news, although few here understood all the subtleties of the moment. The inhabitants of the capital were so accustomed to poverty that the words of the master of coins were now perceived rather as something that they wanted to believe in, but believed with difficulty. But the people’s joy did not diminish because of it.
'And the last news that the royal court would like to convey to you is very gloomy and tragic: our Queen Parnasida, following King Primus, went to the World of Shadows, may the Five rest with her soul in peace.'
People were quiet at the latest message. Now there was no joy, no sorrow, no fear. It seemed that the news of the death of the queen did not overshadow a single soul in the crowd of ordinary people. The coin master was not surprised, he just smirked and added:
'Because King Primus and Queen Parnasida left no legitimate heir behind, it has been decided by the elders that the members of the royal council will collectively assume responsibility for running the capital. Believe, dear friends that from now on the life of each of you will change. We will return prosperity to the city and prosperity to every home. From now on, for Embry, our wonderful city, bright days are coming.'
Lenore exchanged glances with one of the guards standing nearby, nodding him to get into action. According to the plan, a visit to the mayor is going to happen next to give recommendations on the collection of taxes for this month. The master of coins himself, with a sense of satisfaction from the sense of accomplishment, turned around on his heels and was ready to climb on his snow-white horse, when he felt something pulling the hem of his cloak.
The tenacious, bony hand of the ugly old woman held Lenore back. The guardsmen reacted instantly: the beggar woman was dragged away from the master of coins, and two brave soldiers directed their peaks at her, and very hostilely, as if someone dangerous was in front of them now.
'I didn’t die…' the old woman hissed. 'I didn't die...'
In all honesty, Lenore didn't understand anything at first. Moreover, he did not see someone dangerous in the beggar woman, that's why he gave the order to the guards with a gesture to lower their pikes. He smiled kindly at the stranger and asked:
'What do you want, good woman?'
'Me... I am-m-m... que-e-e-en... It's me...' she growled, opening her face from under the hood.
What they saw caused an attack of disgust in the guardsmen. Some of the soldiers even turned away, unable to look at the ugliness that was revealed to them. Only Lenore did not care of the disgusting look, was continuing to smile. It was noticeable how doubts creeping into his mind, but he steadfastly maintained an indulgent calm.
'I don’t quite understand you, good woman. If you need food or a healer...'
'Me... Queen!!!' the old woman wheezed insistently. 'Lenore. Harmala. Primus. You are my faithful servant. Only you knew...'
It was evident that it was very difficult for the old woman to speak. Her mouth was barely open, and her lips could not hold back the saliva, which ugly splashed to the sides. But even that was enough to make Lenore stop smiling: his eyes narrowed, and he peered intently into the beggar's face. The astonishment of the master of coins became evident. Then he cast an uneasy glance at the guards, who were also at a loss. Pursing his lips, Lenore was thinking hard about something, trying to come either to a decision or to a conclusion. Next, the surprise was gradually replaced by fear. The master of coins mounted his horse. Looking at the hopeful eyes of an ugly old woman looking at him, Lenore turned to the guards with an order.
'Kill her!'
The guards stood rooted to the spot, each of them could not believe such an order.
'Are you deaf?' the master of coins said softly, but very firmly. 'I said kill that old woman. Now!'
'But, your grace, if the royal guards kill an innocent old woman in the middle of the day…'
Lenore glared at the defiant soldier and gave the order again before he could finish the phrase. This time no one dared to disobey. The soldiers again pointed their lances at the old woman. Parnasida, horrified by what was happening, rushed to run through the crowd. But it was difficult to call it running: she stumbled, fell, collided with passers-by, begged them for help, but people, not understanding anything, only were stepping aside. The guards were droving the beggar out of the city square, realizing that organizing a bloody murder in front of everyone was hardly the best option.
Parnasida did not understand why her most devoted servant had betrayed her. The remnants of the world collapsed right before her eyes, exposing bitterness and despair. Parnasida did not know what to do, and hoped only for someone's help. But she saw the same disgust in the faces of the nearby people. And nothing but it.
Someone pushed the old woman, Parnasida flew aside, struck a fish shop. Her head hit a wooden corner, leaving behind a bloody stain, and the beggar's body collapsed dead on the stone-paved square. The guards arrived in time after a few seconds. Looking at each other, at first they clearly could not decide whether the order had been carried out or not. Nevertheless, not even a minute had passed before the soldiers turned around and left the square. Parnasida laid lifeless, her head was wet in a pool of her own blood, and it seemed that no one was even embarrassed at the sight of such a terrible, albeit accidental, death.
Was it death? The cold, which captivated Parnasida with a death grip, not giving a chance to break free, dominated the queen's mutilated body, but still she felt it, felt death physically. And it was the strangest thing that happened to her in her entire life. When Parnasida opened her eyes, she most likely simply decided that she was extremely lucky. Of course, life in her body only weakly flickered, but this light, however, had place to be. Maybe it's all just a bad dream? The vile ghost of the darkness brought on this whole nightmare. The queen wished it's true, but it wasn't. Her hands remained bony, his hair in thin, gray and sparse. Everything was real.
Fortunately, now Parnasida was not lying on the cold paving stones, but on a relatively soft bed, and even the pillow was pleasantly felt under her head.
Touching her head, the old woman was trying to be that she was alive, only a little gore blood had become in a scab in the temple area.
It was a small hut, a bit like Estella's, but definitely not hers. There was a wooden table, three chairs, two beds, on one of which Parnasida was lying, and an oven in which a fire crackled, devouring dry firewood. The windows were covered with thick cloth, so the fire in the stove was the only source of light.
The door creaked and a thin middle-aged woman in a rag scarf and a red coat, old, battered, and faded to rust entered the hut. She dragged an armful of firewood into the house and threw it at the foot of the oven, next to the ash-pit. The light of the fire made the woman's appearance visible: she was very thin, her hollow cheeks, swollen eyes and painful appearance indicated how hard her life was. However, this stranger was cheerful enough and, seeing that the guest woke up, smiled and went to the bed and bent over her.
'You slept for two days. I've already begun to believe Temperance's words too,' she said good-naturedly.
'Where I am? What happened?' groaned Parnasida in a hoarse voice.
The stranger touched the old woman's forehead with her palm and, making sure that it was not hot, snorted in surprise and returned to the oven. Parnasida saw for the first time how a man made the fire in a simple old oven, and this process seemed rather strange to her.
'Temperance, my nephew, asked me to take care of you. Of course I agreed. How to refuse my bloodline. Although it was the strangest thing ever asked me to. After all, you died. Certainly, you were indeed dead...'
The woman began to throw firewood into the stove, turning it over with a poker, groaning and sighing.
'The nights are cold here,' she added. 'You can catch a cold and even die. Now, oh, what a shortage of firewood. Foresters raised the price again! Although you seem to have nothing to care of, even if it's cold, even if it's heat...'
'What do you mean I'm dead?' without getting up, muttered Parnasida. 'And who are you anyway?'
My name is Mignonette. I am the one who hid your dead body two days ago in my hut. You died means that you died, no more, no less. Two days later suddenly you breathed. I have never seen such a thing. And I don't think I will. I hope when Temperance returns from his service, he will finally explain everything to me. He is such a great man, he serves as a guard in the royal castle itself. Glory to the Five, he takes care of me. We have each other, and this is a family. There is nothing more important than family...'
Parnasida at first did not understand anything, only felt a strange disappointment at the fact of an unsuccessful attempt to die. Glancing at her old hands covered in wrinkled skin, she again and again could not get used to her new essence. The woman, who introduced herself as Mignonette, again approached the bed, but this time she was holding a small tin bowl in which some kind of soup was.'
'It's vegetable broth,' she said, handing the old woman some food. 'Of course, We can’t afford meat for lunch, we’re not kings., but vegetables are a storehouse of vitamins. Thanks the Five, taxes were reduced, at least now we have a ghostly possibility that our life would become at least a little better. Few trust the royal court even after good news from there. Eat while it's hot.'
Surprisingly, Parnasida did not want to eat at all, but she still accepted the broth. Mignonette poured herself a portion of the broth, sitting down at the table.
'So you saved me?' muttered Parnasida. She looked suspiciously into the contents of the old, dirty-looking bowl, stirring the broth with a wooden spoon, and it seemed to her that it was not only tasteless, but also even disgusting. Not at all what the royal chefs served.
'Temperance saved you, actually,' repeated Mignonette, sipping the broth with gusto. 'He has been staying in the castle for a long time now. After the death of the queen there, they say, a real coup happened.
'Coup?' intrigued old woman asked.
'Well, there are a lot of rumors. They say that now there will be no kings and queens. We will be ruled by elders and learned men. In total, it’s just been a while, and the tax has been reduced, a canteen has been opened for the poor. Under kings, beggars were never given free food. People in general were remembered only when the time came for a new taxes. And here it is, can you imagine? We can’t talk like that about the dead, but all people are insanely happy about the death of the queen. Embry had no future with her. Now the future became possible. In any case, people believe in it.'
Parnasida snorted. A lump rolled up in her throat, but there were no tears, as if her eyes had dried up.
'You hated the queen?' said Parnasida in a trembling voice, setting the bowl aside. Probably, it was not caused of tasteless soup, but the fact that the old woman was simply sick of all the food.
'I didn’t know her,' Mignonette shrugged her shoulders, quickly finishing off the broth. 'I only saw how people suffer from her wastefulness and selfishness. Even under King Primus it was tolerable, but the queen...'
The woman sighed heavily. She saw a bowl of untouched broth on the floor by the bed and without question, getting up from the table, took it. Still hungry, Mignonette decided to eat this portion as well.
'Look at yourself,' she said. 'You obviously do not live and did not live in abundance. And hardly, my dear, you wanted such a life as you have. You came to who you are, either because of laziness and stupidity, or because once you were completely deprived of the opportunity to develop and live with dignity. Kings and queens have always taxed the people, expressing dubious concern for their subjects. But Queen Parnasida is just awful. Everyone knew that she hated everyone around her. In general, they say, it was she who killed her husband, King Primus. As I believe, it may be truth, because Parnasida was a real monster, everybody named her this way here, in Embry. They also thank the World of Shadows that it took this cruel usurper into his possessions. I tried all my life to treat everyone well, but there my strength and patience was not enough under any circumstances.'
Parnasida could no longer listen to this. She tried to get out of bed, but her legs barely supported her.
'I want to leave…' the old woman said in a weak voice.
'Where are you going?' Mignonette shook her head. 'Sit down for now. Temperance will come and sort it out.'
Parnasida did not recognize Temperance at once. When this young man entered the hut and took off his helmet, throwing back his dark curly hair, the first thing the old woman saw in the twilight was a scar on his face. Then it dawned on the queen that it was the same man who brought the basket with the head and the note into the throne room on that ill-fated day. Parnasida looked at Temperance in horror, like a ghost from the past.
'You woke up, then,' the man stated gloomily, taking off his armor.
'You?' whispered Parnasida, peering intently at an old acquaintance.
Mignonette did not understand anything, throwing a surprised look at her nephew and the old woman.
'You know her?' she asked, putting the armor into the trunk. 'Explain what's going on...'
'Of course, I will explain,' the fire of hatred clearly flared in Temperance's voice. 'It's the queen. But she did not die, as they say in the royal castle. She simply lost the attributes of her royal power: servants, a castle and a beautiful body.'
Mignonette didn't seem surprised. She only gave the old woman a brief glance of curiosity, and again turned to Temperance for details. Then Parnasida herself entered the conversation. Suddenly she realized that in front of her was a man who knew the answers to many questions.
Temperance concealed neither gloating nor scorn. No wonder: through the fault of the queen, he lost someone important to him. The man smiled as he sat down at the table. Apparently, he was hungry, and not at all embarrassed by the guest, he began to have dinner, taking a bowl of soup from Mignonette. She sat opposite her nephew, making herself a mug of herbal tea.
'Obviously, you did not see anything but your obsession with youth and eternal life!' the man said accusingly, not even looking at the old woman. 'And if you were even a little more observant, you would immediately understand that people close to you have been preparing a plot for a long time. Lenore helped you get rid of Primus. Now he got rid of you too. Found a witch, made a deal with Taurentius right behind your back. I don’t know if Lenore planned Tristan’s death, but he definitely didn’t make a mistake with the witch. That's it, queen. Or rather, no longer a queen...'
Mignonette continued to cast curious glances at the old woman, as if she were a child in a paddock with strange animals. Parnasida felt that she was re-experiencing the horrors of that night when the meeting with the witch Estella became fateful for her.
'Lenore did not get the power quite honestly, but his policy is able to make the life of the people of Embry better. He is generally much better than those kings who have ruled the capital in recent decades. His plan succeeded largely thanks to the support of solidary courtiers,' Temperance reasoned.
'Why are you telling me this?' asked Parnasida.
'Because you are no longer a queen and never will be again. But I agree here, in general, this whole story no longer matters. Even if people find out the truth, they will hardly believe it: the queen has died, the palace has declared it officially. The news that the queen turned into a decrepit old woman after meeting with the sorceress will be perceived by the people, most likely, as a tale, one of hundreds of legends and horror stories for children. Nothing to do with what could exist in reality. In addition, life in the city is gradually getting better: taxes are lowered, hunger is no longer ubiquitous. It is easier for the common people to believe in the best, and your reign did not bring Embry anything good!'
'So you hate me too?' said Parnasida, after listening carefully and considering Temperance's words.
'Hate?' the man drawled, pushing the empty bowl aside. He turned to the old woman and shook his head. 'I rather feel sorry for you. You are no queen. Primus was your only chance to retain the title. But by getting rid of the king, you signed your own warrant. You are pathetic and stupid. That's what I think.'
'And that's why you decided to save me?' Parnasida gave Temperance a defiant look. Helplessness killed and angered her, tearing her soul to pieces. 'Why didn't you leave me to die in the square?'
'Because you are not capable of dying, as you can see. Also because the city and the royal court need peace. I saw how Lenore reacted to you when we met. Now he thinks you're dead. But if he finds out that you are alive and, moreover, that with the face of an old woman you have also gained immortality, he will have to hunt you. This will make him restless. City. Needs. Peace. As well as its ruler does.'
'How do you know that I can't die?' asked Parnasida, getting up from the bed.
'I guessed. Convinced today. You were dead in the square with no doubts. Now even your wounds have healed. It is not difficult to guess how exactly your meeting with the witch ended. Now you have to understand that Embry doesn't need you. You are not needed here. You must die. But if that's not possible, then just disappear. You must leave Embry. Now. Find your path, your peace and your shelter somewhere else where you can write your story from scratch. Because if you don't, Lenore and his guards will catch up with you sooner or later. Yes, they won’t be able to kill you, but it’s quite enough to imprison you for a century. Between eternal freedom and eternal imprisonment, I think it is not difficult to choose.'
'So your act is noble? Is this how you help me?' said Parnasida angrily. 'So generous, isn't it! That’s what I have to thank you for, right? For this humiliating idea? So I have to leave? From my city? Leave my kingdom? I'M THE QUEEN!'
'YOU. AER. NOT. QUEEN!' Temperance boomed. His voice thundered through all four walls of the hut. 'And you never were,' the guy added, not so loudly, but insistently. 'You were a usurper. You were a dictator. You were a selfish, conniving whore who ruined my friend's life! You were anything but a queen. The people of Embry hated you, and if you were a little wiser, you would know it! By the way, no one in the castle took you seriously either. This is not your city and not your kingdom! Get out while you can, Parnasida. Start your life over. This is your very last chance.'
'Chance? Life?' the old woman hissed. Her voice trembled. She touched her face with dry hands. 'Is that what you call life?'
'Because of your royal policy, many people are dying of hunger, dying of cold. Blacksmith Morgen had to cut off his leg last month to keep him alive. And imagine, he, one-legged, oppressed by severe pain, continues to live! Breathe! Work! Well, YOU! Have arms and legs in place. Head too. Also immortality! For you it is not to complain about plights in life. No one is to blame for the fact that you lost your beauty and title! Just you. It is a consequence of your boundless stupidity. Here you can only blame yourself!'
Parnasida said no more. Casting a glance full of resentment and burning hatred at the people who sheltered her, she rushed to the door, threw it open and ran as fast as she could, trying to decide where to run after all. Parnasida knew the city poorly, but she managed to find the square. The queen decided to return to where this whole nightmare began: to Estella's hut. It was possible to find the right house only by finding the square. There already eyes and legs will remember the way.
Parnasida still could not get used to her new abilities: her legs ached, fatigue was crushing, but her body continued to run, making the torment terrible, but definitely bearable.
Here the needed lane is. The same road leading to the Spider's End. The hope of a new contract with Estella still flickered in queen's soul. Parnasida remembered the witch's command: the condition on which the return of the queen's former appearance depended, impossible and unfair. There must have been another way out. Parnasida was sure of it, especially now. She assured herself of this as her feet carried her to the cherished hut.
Parnasida was also sure that she had arrived at her destination. It was here that she seemed to have recently stopped in indecision. Several long days turned into an eternity. It was here that the queen first saw Estella's house. The end of the Spider's End looked exactly the same as on that dark night. Except for one detail: there was nothing where the witch's hut had been before. Just an empty ground, as if the house had magically evaporated, leaving neither destroyed walls nor remnants of the foundation.
Parnasida simply stood barefoot in the mud of a viscous road, staring with an empty look and not understanding what to do next. The last ray of hope has disappeared for the queen and will apparently never come again. Hearing the voices and the sound of horseshoes nearby, the old woman quickly hid herself behind the wall of a nearby building, closing her eyes. Now Parnasida is alone against the world.
'Perhaps he was right…' whispered Parnasida, sighing heavily. 'I have to leave. I will find Estella wherever she is. I will find that damned witch and get my body back, and then I'll do the same with my crown.'
Then without waiting another second, the queen disappeared into the lanes, beginning her long adventure.