tales of Suchita

It begins with a story.

It is a story of a queen who is poisoned by her son because he’s tired of waiting for her to die. He has been waiting for seven years and finally decides to kill her so he can get control of the throne. It’s laughably easy and he’s not incompetent. He sets up the stage so it never gets back to him nor is he even in the castle when she drinks the poisoned wine and dies three days later. It’s a slow acting poison with symptoms imitating a run of the mill cough. By the time the physician suspects foul play, she’s already gone.

On the face of it, the story is innocent. The boy doesn’t really want to kill his mother but he is getting impatient. And it isn’t like he is usurping the throne. It is his by all rights. He is only hastening the process.

But there are enough similarities between what happens to the queen and what the people suspect happened to King Tebough II for it to become a problem really fast.

Though the level of conspiracy in the case of Reifire were decidedly limited, the court and the people have always whispered and wondered. But because Reifire turned out to be a far better king than his father, everyone has forgotten about the whispers.

The story brings back all the memories, the whispers, the doubt. Had their beloved king killed his father? What did it mean that he may have not only committed patricide but also regicide?

Incensed at the mutterings, Reifire does something he should not have. Had he not been in his cups, had Arthur not tried to hold him back, he probably would not have reacted. But he does. He orders the arrest of the entire troupe and maybe a madness has descended on him because he follows that order with another command: that of execution.

To say the court is aghast at his harshness would be like saying roses are beautiful. It takes him only a moment to realize what he has done. But being king, he cannot be seen to back down so he strides away, his robes sweeping the floor behind him.

Arthur tries. His queen tries. Even Janah tries. No one can change his mind and the troupe of seven people are executed at dawn.

*

Everyone thinks it’s a one-off incident and they callously forget about it, like seven people hadn’t lost their lives for telling a story. They’re laughing and looking forward to their night a month later as a minstrel performs a song.

The song is well-known. It has been sung countless times. It is a bawdy tale of a man turning into a woman to seduce another woman. The applause is thunderous. So is Reifire’s voice as he asks for the minstrel’s arrest.

This time, the crowd surges forward as if it’ll surround the minstrel and thus save her from her fate – for they know that she too will be executed come dawn. But the guards force their way through and drag away the screaming minstrel.

That night Reifire and Arthur have their first row.

“What was wrong with the song?” Arthur is snarling. If he wasn’t so afraid, he’d be manhandling the king, or jesting with him to show him the error of his ways.

Reifire doesn’t wish to explain. He’s king. But this is Arthur. “She was looking at me while singing. Like she was trying to say my relations with the queen were suspect.”

“What? Tell me I did not…what?” This time Arthur does manhandle him. “Listen to yourself. You’re making no sense. We have been listening to that song since childhood. Remember when I first came to court and heard it and I couldn’t stop blushing? How you had teased me!”

The look on his face does not inspire confidence. Reifire looks sympathetic but altogether unmoved. “My decision is final.”

Arthur explodes. “Mercy, my king, mercy, please! You cannot do this.”

But they have known each too long. Reifire puts his hands around Arthur’s neck and pulls him close. “Paramour…do you trust me? Do you trust your king?”

He has no choice but to nod his assent.

“Then trust me with this. I know what I’m doing.”

*

When the royal guard is sent across the empire after a year of executing countless performers and storytellers to gather as many books as they can and burn them, people aren’t even surprised.

Arthur, Selma, Yonik, Ullea and Terry despair but there isn’t anything they can do. Reifire sees their discontent and gives them more power. All five welcome the decision and not always use it to save someone. There are errors they make, many, many errors.

But everyone in the royal court is drunk on power and there is no check in place. The queen starts to fear for her and her son’s life. So she smartly distances herself from Forbearn. And though Janah is not a child, Reifire was more of a leader at half the age than Janah is, he flees with his mother.

*

Five years have now passed. Folks have become careful. They don’t carry books – all have either been burnt or secreted away in caves, dungeons or buried in the ground. There are no performances anymore. For entertainment there is music and dancing. It works either way for the noble-people and as five years turn to six years, and no new execution or burning has taken place, they allow themselves to believe that things will become better.

For two years they have a semblance of peace. Arthur believes that every king is allowed his madness and now that Reifire is over his, he calls Janah and the queen back to court.

It’s a momentous occasion and there is a huge celebration planned. Though folks are wary, they need to earn so they can feed their children. They may no longer have the escape and aspiration that stories provide, they still have to survive. Even if thriving has become dangerous.

Arthur and the court are in high spirits. He even has a smile on his face. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled carefree. That is until he reaches the dungeons. He has been summoned by one of the guards who needed some advice, he hadn’t mentioned for what.

When Arthur walks into the dungeons he recoils from the smell and then from what he sees. There are people stuffed like cattle into the cells. He finds he cannot breathe and is in danger of fainting from dread and the smell of rotting human flesh. He runs up the stairs and gasps in the sweet, clean air. The guard has a smirk on his face.

“What…was…that?” he asks in between gasps. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get that sight or smell from out of his body.

The guard straightens his shoulders to report, though the smirk has turned to disdain. No wonder the king had deemed it unnecessary to tell his paramour about this. The dungeons are filled with people suspected of treason, sir, says the guard. Since the king has stopped public executions, they’re executed every three-four days by creative means or however the guards want to do it. The king has given them this solemn duty and they take it seriously…sir.

“So Reifire has turned taking the life of another human being into a private sport.”

The guard wisely offers no comment.

Arthur is heartbroken at how naïve he has been. He had thought…he shakes his head. He’s ashamed at how quickly he had dismissed his king’s madness. He had thought…his hands go to his temples, holding his head, hoping that that will help to keep it from exploding at the implications.

Another messenger finds him before he can dismiss the guard. The king is looking for him. He sends the messenger away, his head and heart feeling numb.

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This is Chapter 23 of 26 of The Travelling Librarian series. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.

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Psst: I also have 2 ebooks on Kindle – and if you’re on Kindle Unlimited, they’re free!

• Read The Gunslinger here.
• Read 23 Letters of Love here.