There were beads of sweat rolling down her face. Her mind felt foggy as if someone had stuffed a cloud in her brain. She mumbled a prayer as she felt her thoughts slipping away. She was so confused and hurt. She used to be so happy. Now all she felt was dark. “How could this have happened?” she thought as she started to dream... dream about the day before, retracing her steps, as if to see where the plan had gone wrong.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away lived a servant girl named Anne Elisabeth. Her father had died when she was only three years old, and her uncle, the king, had taken her into the palace as a servant. She was always cheerful in her work and very good in school (the king had ordered that all the servants be educated). Her best friend was an old woman named Diana, the palace midwife. Anne visited Diana every day, and they would tell stories, drink tea, and share all the palace gossip. One day Anne was walking down the long hallway to the room where she stayed, and found Diana already there.
“Sit child,” said Diana in a gentle voice, “and close the door behind you.” Anne obeyed and asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No dear,” she answered, “ I just have something to tell you. You are almost eighteen now, and your life is in more and more danger every hour you are not aware of this dire situation.” Then Diana started explaining how Anne’s father used to be the king. She told her how her mother had died in childbirth and her father, at the time of his reign, was betrayed in a battle by her uncle, her father’s youngest brother, when they were defending the nation.
“But my uncle is so kind to me. How could he be so wicked?” asked Anne naively.
“Your uncle is deceiving you. He despises you. He just knows he cannot show it,” answered Diana. “He is planning for your secret execution within the month.”
“How do you know this?” Anne asked skeptically.
“I may not be good at math, or sewing, or using those newfangled gadgets people are coming up with nowadays, but lord knows I can gossip like a madman. Edith overheard the king and the executioner discussing it during dinner.”
Anne started to fret. Edith was the most truthful woman she had ever met. Her honesty got her beaten on quite a regular basis. “How do you have so much knowledge regarding my parents?” Anne enquired. “Do you eavesdrop on the dead now?”
“No,” Dianna chuckled, “I knew your parents, because I worked for them, and I delivered you when you were born, and then I saved you when your father was killed. Now, listen close child,” whispered Diana gravely, glancing at the door. “You are the rightful heir to the throne, and your life is hanging in the balance because of it. But don’t get your bloomers in a bunch,” she added, seeing the frightened look on the girl’s face. “When your father was murdered, I vowed to myself that I would always take care of you, protect you, and return you to your rightful throne.”
Anne stumbled out, lost in thought at this shocking revelation. She started to walk aimlessly down the hallway when suddenly a call from the old cook snapped her out her daze. Anne started to run, but then she tripped over an uneven rock in the cobblestone floor. She landed on her ankle, and a shock of pain shot up her leg. Anne didn’t scream, but she let out a yelp. Diana stuck her head out the door when she heard the noise. She saw Anne collapsed on the ground and she hurried towards her. She bent down and enquired on the location of the pain. Anne pointed to her ankle and whimpered. Diana helped her up and draped Anne’s arm over her own shoulder and walked her back to her room.
“You have a sprained ankle.” said Diana. Suddenly the door burst open. “I called for you ten minutes ago!” bellowed the hot-headed cook.
“She sprained her ankle,” said Diana harshly.
The cook threw up his hands and stomped out. Diana gently spread an herb concoction on Anne's ankle, then she bandaged it thoroughly. “There,”she said, “It should feel better by morning. Meanwhile, let’s discuss a plan to help you get out of here.”
“I don’t know if I can remember all that,” Anne admitted as she yawned. They had been up all night planning her escape.
“Yes you can, just think of what’s at stake and you will be fine,” Diana replied. “Now repeat the plan to me,”
“Okay,” Anne breathed, “First, tomorrow morn, I will eat the porridge from my breakfast and then save the rest. I will then pack up all my things into a sack and go to the cook and apologize for the inconvenience yesterday and hopefully he will give me another loaf of bread. I will sneak into Edith’s chamber and she will give me eleven coins, which should be enough to pay for my needs until I get a job in the village. I then tell the guard that I am running an errand for you. I will walk three miles to your cousin, Greta’s, house and knock seven times and she will let me in. I will stay there for one night and then, I go look for a job in the village.”
“Yes.” said Diana
“How will I walk that far with my ankle?”
“The power of adrenaline is a mighty thing, child.” Diana replied.
Then there was a knock on the door, and they both looked at each other worriedly and then looked back at the door. It was a servant with her breakfast. Anne waited until he had left and she put the onion, carrot, slice of bread, cluster of grapes, an apple and a skin of wine into her sack. Then she ate her porridge while Diana put a fresh bandage on her foot.
“Thank you Diana, for everything,” Anne said, tears dripping down her face.
“Goodbye,” sniffled Diana.
After a long embrace, Anne left. Diana stared after her and said a prayer, “Please keep her safe,” she whispered.
Anne limped down that same hallway that she walked every single day. She couldn’t believe this would be the last time. She carefully avoided the loose stone and her eyes welled up with tears again. Anne peered into the kitchen. She saw the cook and walked in, “I am sorry for the inconvenience yesterday sir,”
“Humph,” grunted the cook.
Anne lingered, waiting to see if he would give her anything, and when she realized he wouldn’t, she left without another word. She strolled past the library, and stuck the long, silver key that Diana had given her into the lock and slowly creaked open the small wooden door to Edith’s room. She was waiting for Anne with a handful of small coins. She watched carefully as Edith dropped them into her sack. Clink, clink, clink. She hugged Edith and started for the castle door trying to muffle the jingle of the coins in her bag. When she arrived at the door, there were two guards, one on each side, both with their spears facing inwards.
“What is your business?” the guard on the left asked in a gruff manner.
“I am on an errand for Diana,” Anne answered trembling. She hoped they wouldn’t ask her any more questions, but they did.
“When will you return?” the guard on the right questioned.
“Around noon, sir,” Anne blurted. She surprised herself with the amount of certainty in her voice but was angry with herself she had said noon. That was certainly not enough time! She straightened her shoulders as she waited for their response. The guards slowly moved their spears and opened the drawbridge door. She hurried out as fast as she could than she winced, the pain in her ankle had returned. She quickly realized that Diana overestimated the amount of adrenaline she would have. In fact, Anne was not very scared at all. She did not feel anything at all. Every emotion was gone, and her face was blank. She started to hunt for a dead branch that would make a suitable walking stick. Once she found one she started the long trek.
After what felt like an eternity, Anne finally reached her destination. She knocked seven times, just as she had been told. A middle aged woman opened the door, “Who are you?” She questioned.
“My name is Anne Elizabeth. Diana told me that I would be safe here.” Anne replied.
“Come in dear, you must be exhausted!” exclaimed Greta sympathetically. Four children started to gather around them, one looked close to her age. “These are my kids,” Greta said, “Children, introduce yourselves.”
“Hello, Anne, my name is John, it is nice to meet you,” the oldest said, bending down to kiss her hand. Anne curtsied and blushed. He was a good looking young man, tall and strong, with piercing blue eyes. She noticed a beautiful gold ring on his hand and wished that she could have beautiful jewelry too someday. Embarrassed, she quickly shifted her gaze to the second child and the girl started to introduce herself, “Hi, my name is Claire,” she said, I can show you where you will stay,” she said.
“My name is Hannah,” exclaimed the third, she smiled and added, “But you can call me Hannie.”
“I am Charles,” said the youngest, lisping from the new gap where his front tooth had been. Anne was about to say something when the huge church bell struck two. She remembered that she had told the guards that she would be home around noon. She knew that they would be looking for her by now. She had to get out of here. If the guards found her, Greta’s whole family would be in danger. Anne hurriedly explained the grim situation to Greta. As much as she wanted to stay and rest she knew she must leave, she was about to depart when she heard a knock on the door, it was loud and firm. “Open up!” A gruff voice shouted.
Greta turned to Anne and whispered, “There is a small window in the spare bedroom, hurry!”
Anne ran into the dim room and noticed the small hole in the wall that Greta had called “a window.” She paused for a second when she heard the front door being pulled off it’s hinges, and the heavy boots she knew to be the guards’. Anne suddenly realized that the window was too high for her to reach. She frantically searched the room until she found an old trunk. She pushed and shoved it until it was right below the hole, and then she climbed up to it first with her good foot, and then with her bad foot. Making sure she was steady on the trunk, she slowly slithered through the hole and then dropped down to the ground with a thud. Her hip ached where she had landed on the hard, unyielding ground. She rose slowly, leaning on the outer wall of the house for support.
The adrenaline kicked in as she started to sprint down the deserted street when she suddenly felt a strong hand clamp her mouth shut and another hand twist her arms behind her back. Anne tried to scream but the hand over her mouth muffled her voice. She was dragged down alleys and back roads until they finally reached the castle. She heard the familiar squeak of the draw bridge, but this time the sound was sad, as she was getting captured, not returning to her home.
Anne was brought down the dark, creaky, smelly stairs to the dungeon. She was thrown in a cell, and she heard the creak of keys in the lock behind her. She also heard the same gruff voice mumble, “The king will decide what will be done with you in the morning.”
Anne was frightened, and the gnawing in her empty stomach was almost unbearable. She was too uncomfortable to sleep that night, and the words that the guard had said repeated over and over in her head. The rooster crowed the next morning, and Anne was already up. She had managed to fall asleep for a couple of hours the night before, but the thought of the king corrupted her dreams.
She rubbed her eyes as she saw the king approaching, “Anne, Anne, Anne,” he paused, looked her up and down and continued. “I knew you would be a handful someday,” he chuckled. Anne glared at him. (The king usually didn’t go in the dungeon but because this was a personal case, he made an exception.)
“I knew that because I was childless you would be the rightful heir to my throne,” the king began, “But lucky for me, you practically walked right into this cell.” Anne shivered, she knew that no one had ever come out of the dungeon alive. She saw her uncle motion to the guards, and suddenly she was being dragged into another cell except this one had blood all over the floor and walls. Anne shut her eyes and started to flail her arms and legs, trying to escape, but it was no use. Her arms were in shackles attached to the wall, her feet chained to the floor and the stock around her neck was digging into her skin.
“Who will rule after you die?” Anne questioned, anger boiling up within her.
“My nephew, George,” the king replied, a wicked smile started to creep across his face. “He is a great warrior, and he will do great things for this country, unlike you.”
Just then he nodded at Anne and the guards leaped into action. They unlocked all of her chains and shoved her to her knees. They ripped the back of her shirt, and she knew what was to come. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed one of the guards reach for a whip coiled up below his waist. She cringed knowing what was to come. She waited for the first strike. She started to wonder if it wouldn’t come, then CRACK! The leather strip struck her back and numbness spread across the bare expanse. Right when the welts started to sting and throb, CRACK! Another whack. The process repeated many times until blood was dripping down her back. She was now crying, the tears creating streaks down her dirty face. Anne had now lost hope. She knew that all prisoners were beaten to death. Once, when she was only a small child, she had witnessed a public beating of a criminal. The image of man’s face stuck in her mind forever, the face of horror and extreme pain.
Anne started to wake up from her remembrance of the journey. She noticed now that she was again chained in the cell. She looked up and saw that the king and his guards had left. The searing pain in her back started up again, and she started to whimper. She knew that she would be left in the dungeon to die with no food and no water. All of a sudden the door creaked open, and she saw one of the guards walk down the wooden steps. She winced remembering the pain of the whipping, guessing that the guard was here for round two. When he reached the front of her cell he glanced around the room and then smiled at her. It wasn’t a wicked smile, like the king’s but it was a warm, friendly smile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chunk of bread. He threw it to her and she reached for it ravenously. It was gone within a matter of moments. It suddenly occurred to Anne that this was one of the guards that just a few hours ago was beating her. She looked up into the kind face of the man on the other side of the bars and wondered how he could be on the king’s side.
“My name is Andrew,” he said. “I am sorry that I whipped you, but I needed the king to think I was loyal to him before I helped you escape.”
“You are going to help me escape?” Anne asked, a flicker of hope ignited inside her.
“Yes,” he answered, fumbling with a set of keys hanging from his belt. When he found the right one, he quietly slid it into the lock and turned it slowly in hopes that it wouldn’t creak. He opened the cell door and rushed in. He used a smaller version of the same key to unlock all of her chains. Andrew helped her up and she followed him over to the heavy door that stood between her and her home. Andrew opened the door and he told her, “Go straight to Diana,” She obeyed and they parted ways. She found Diana in her room eating her midday meal. Without looking up she said, “Tell the cook this bread is stale,”
“What?” Anne asked, she was confused.
Upon hearing her voice Diana looked up. When she saw Anne she gasped. “What happened?” Anne quickly hushed her and sat on the bed. Her breathing was quick and inconsistent, and her heart was beating out of her chest. She knew it would only be moments before the king realized she was gone. Diana asked her again what had happened but Anned stayed quiet; it was no use. Both her and Diana would be dragged out and killed in a matter of hours. Suddenly the door squeaked and to Anne’s dismay it was the king himself.
Everything that happened next was a blur. She soon found herself back in that dirty old dungeon, but this time she was not alone. She could tell there were other prisoners in this area and as her eyes adjusted to the dark she made out the faces of Diana and Andrew. Anne felt as if she might vomit. She had gotten two innocent, kind people in jail, and she grimaced at the thought of their upcoming fate. One by one Diana and Andrew were brought to new cells and Anne knew they were dead. She had given up all hope and was filled with a great depression as she awaited her fate. Finally, the guard came in with a parchment from the king and announced that she would now have a public execution. The king had grown so angry he had ordered her to be hung the very next day. However, Anne slept surprisingly well that night. When she awoke she was escorted to the city square where the gallows seemed to scream her hopelessness aloud. She was on her knees with the rope hanging around her throat. She felt numb. There were beads of sweat rolling down her face. Her mind felt foggy as if someone had stuffed a cloud in her brain. She mumbled a prayer as she felt her thoughts slipping away. She was so confused and hurt. She used to be so happy. Now all she felt was dark. How could this have happened? She thought as she started to dream... dream about the day before, retracing her steps, as if to see where the plan had gone wrong. She started to wonder if it would ever happen when she looked over her shoulder and saw a guard talking to the executioner. He then walked over and she closed her eyes and braced herself. Then the ropes released. The crowd murmured and whispered as she was dragged back off the platform.
Back in the castle she was brought to a beautiful room where her wounds were cleaned and she was clothed with beautiful garments. Anne was beyond confused. One of the servants then explained to her that the king had been murdered that morning. Anne’s heart jumped for joy in her chest but she then wondered who could’ve done it? Diana had been killed, or so she thought. “Am I the new queen then?” Anne asked.
“No, not yet,” the servant answered. “Since there has not been an official coronation, the temporary king is the marshall, the king’s right hand man.
Anne soon discovered the marshall’s name was Richard, and he was just as evil as the king. He was quite dumb though, for being so high up in the kingdom. Richard had hired an investigator from the village to figure out who had murdered the king.
The investigator’s name was Thomas Albright. He was a smart man who had built himself quite a reputation in the town. He had solved over one hundred crimes, but most of them had to do with stolen livestock. Anne had little faith in this man, but she was curious as to who had killed the king.
The first day of questioning began and Anne explained to him everything she knew. She was immediately dismissed from the list of suspects because all of the guards had been witness to her whereabouts the past forty-eight hours. The investigation went on for three weeks with almost nothing to show for it. Thomas had deducted from his research that the most likely killer would be Diana. She had every motive. Love, revenge, and money. She loved Anne more than anything in the world. The king had killed Anne’s father leaving her an orphan, and if Anne became queen Diana’s fortune would surely change. Thomas was on a hunt for Diana until one day he was walking through the dungeon and saw her body lifeless on the cell floor. Her death had not been documented because of all the commotion that had happened around that time, but Diana was surely dead. This news was delivered to Anne and she cried for days after convincing herself that Diana was alive and had killed the king and escaped. Now who would have done it? Thomas had now given up. The killer had surely disappeared by now and the case seemed hopeless. Anne’s coronation was scheduled, and she was terrified. She had begun to wish that she had just been killed. She could not rule a country by herself. On the day of her coronation, Anne walked through the entire castle admiring all the ornate art at every turn. It was the first time she had left her chamber in weeks, and the new scenery was a blessing. She strolled through the dining room and felt something hit her toe. It clattered across the floor and glimmered in the sun. Anne went to go pick it up and dropped it when she saw what it was. It was John’s ring! He had been here. But why? Had he tried to save her?
Anne’s new revelation required an immediate visit to the village. She took a carriage to Greta’s house, gold ring in hand. She knocked on the door seven times just as she had all those months ago. This time John opened the door. He smiled at her. It was a contagious, wide smile of smitten joy and Anne couldn’t help but smile back. They quickly embraced and Anne enquired about the ring. He slid it back on to his finger where Anne had admired it before this whole mess had started. He explained how he had followed her back to the castle and somehow managed such a dangerous feat.They talked for hours until it was time for her to leave. It was coronation day! As she got back into the carriage she was happy for the first time in so long. She knew she would not have to rule alone. John would be there, by her side.
In the years to come Anne and John were married, and they ruled the kingdom as husband and wife and they lived happily ever after.
No comments:
Post a Comment