The desolation was unfathomable.
Cold, black ground replaced the once green earth that was dotted with pine trees. What was strange is that there was no smell. The air was almost stale for not even a slight breeze graced over the darkness. This had to be a dream, a horribly wicked dream that I so much wanted to wake from.
There was no birds in the sky, no herd of deer.
The land and all that inhabited it were gone.
Conpo's fertile and densely forested land was not only scorched black, but there was no way the earth would ever be cultivated again.
It was only us that rode out. I entrusted General McCormick to strengthen the watch on our borders, especially with Fraus. The walled country was quieter than usual, and it unnerved me to the core. Ever since the argument two years ago with my aunt, Fraus has kept to itself. Francis, when he still replied to my letters, reaffirmed my suspicions of the kingdom's status after Frausian diplomats did not show for a meeting with him.
To be honest, Francis is the least of my concerns. It has been like that for seven months or so, ever since I no longer received any letters from him. The Torvan ambassador still remains, Lord Halston, at court, but whenever I questioned him about Francis, he would always tell me he was receiving news from his ministers and never directly from the king. Either he's telling the truth or there is a far larger matter that remains unknown to me.
"My Lord Halston!" I called out. The man was in conversation with another court member as he turned his head towards me.
"Your Majesty." Halston gave me a quick bow and the man he was talking to was walking off.
"I apologize for interrupting your conversation but the matter I have to discuss with you concerns both of our countries." Halston instantly tensed up, as if nervous of what I had to say.
"There is a bill that has been passed by my Parliament requesting that Torvan ships give a full manifest of the items they are carrying to the harbor master. But you see, there is a problem," I said, looking Halston dead in the eye.
"Oh?"
Oh? That is all I get from you?
"King Francis knows nothing about the bill. I have had to make all the decision making by myself, with keeping the best interests of Torva in mind, of course. Your king has not replied to my letters concerning our alliance for the past three months. Lord Halston you have assured me for the past three months that King Francis had pressing matters concerning Torva. I am curious, though. Your king has been able to send you information, but not me. You and I are both in the same place."
There was already perspiration gathering on his forehead. If I had looked at him with my eyebrows raised and eyes boring into his, I would have an unconscious man at my feet. Suddenly, he gathered himself together and told me in an almost convincing voice:
"It is his close advisors and ministers who inform me, not the King directly. I promise your majesty that I shall deliver this information swiftly to King Francis's attention."
"Very well," I replied curtly. "I bid you good day, Lord Halston." I did not wait for a reply or a bow as I turned on my heel and walked briskly to my office.
There was no use to write a letter to Francis. It was pointless, just as this alliance seemed to be now.
It was from that moment Francis began to fade from my mind. His face, his voice, and the way he walked. Even that damn smile of his. It all died away.
The land that was once Conpo was entirely blackened that it took me while to locate the second valley once Buckingham and I led our horses up the hill.
I dismounted, walking forward and down the hill into the first valley. Buckingham followed behind me at a distance. A crunching sound was made as my boots came in contact with the ground. It grew so unpleasant that I had to stop walking. No matter how soft my step was, the sound was made. I wished to hear the sound of farm children playing around the pasture where the cows grazed. Oh what I would have given to see even the smallest form of life!
Anger and sadness were ruling my emotions. Sadness as well was budding through. The people and their lives, completely ended so suddenly. The sadness turned to anger.
The cringe worthy sound was made again as Buckingham came up to my side. Crouching down to the ground I desperately used my hand to dig into the black rubble, hoping that I might find something. Anything.
I grew frustrated after a minute, making a small indent in the ground I took off my right glove and felt around for any dampness, a sign that there could still be any fertile soil. All that came in contact with my skin was the dry, black and chalky sediment. I must have looked like a madwoman to Buckingham, for my face was covered by hair and my breathing rapid and erratic. My mind was in so far off of a place that I hadn't noticed that Buckingham was now standing over me.
"Eleanor," he said, softly, putting a hand on my shoulder. I brought myself up slowly, putting my glove back on.
"How could this have happened?" The question as more a thought spoken aloud, but Buckingham answered.
"We shall conduct an investigation, with your permission. However, I hate to be honest. . ." he moved his eyes from mine as uncertainty washed over him.
"Buckingham," I sighed as I wore a sad smile, "I value your honesty. Speak."
"I have an awful feeling. There have been stories, Eleanor."
"Are they myths parents tell their children at night?" I humored sadly, crouching down once last time to take a bit of the darkness in my hand. Buckingham followed my lead as I trekked up to where our horses were.
"If that is how you put it, then yes. But the stories are more than myths. Our ancestors believed them to be true. People have claimed to have seen this devastation before."
I was not convinced of Buckingham's presumptions until his voice lowered, as if the information he was telling me was not meant to be disclosed to anyone.
"Buckingham," I said cautiously, putting the handful into a small leather pouch attached to my saddle as we mounted our horses, "you're scaring me." And I am not one to get scared easily.
"The belief in forces far beyond our power is still present in some of your people."
I turned to him, stunned. "Are you saying this is magic?"
"Possibly, but this isn't your simple love potion or elixir of eternal youth. Whoever, or whatever, did this to Conpo did this on purpose and wanted to make a statement."
"A statement they made indeed, wiping out an entire kingdom like mercenaries," I spat out bitterly. I kicked Eximius forward into a canter; I wanted to be back on my land and feel some sense of security.
It wasn't until we crossed the border and were met with Alendar's greenery and the sounds of chirping did Buckingham continue.
"Mystics independently serve as guards, or protectors, of Mount Andett. They, the rýneu, consider the cavern where the relics were once housed to be sacred, and continue to perform the ancient rituals of long ago. To their belief, you are of the hálignes ærning, or sacred blood. They think the descendants of Michael of Just to also possess some sort of power."
My laughter filled the air. "Me? With magic? Ha – why are you looking at me like that? Buckingham, I meant no disrespect," I said quickly. "I do think that consulting one of them will help in understanding the cause of the disaster."
He let out a sigh before shaking his head. "That will not be as easy as said, I am afraid. They will come to you, but not when summoned. If the time is right, the mystics come and offer their advice and knowledge to the brega. They usually come dressed in crimson robes, with their hoods covering their faces."
I remembered now. Figures in flowing red visited the palace when I was ten. They came in the afternoon. In fact, from what I have read and heard, the rýne never came during the evening. I recall walking back to my father's office with two books I had retrieved from the library, both philosophical works. Even back then I was unknowningly being prepared for what was to become of me. It was not until I was walking in the corridor of the office did I notice the figures as the other end. As strong as I was for that age, the rýneu frightened me, probably because I had no idea who or even what they were. What scared me even more was that the guards did nothing, only bowing their heads as did the courtiers near them. Not taking a chance, I broke into a run, one hand clutching the books to my chest and the other to pick up my skirts so that I wouldn't trip. The common courtesy I always bore of knocking before entering was gone as I threw open the door and closed it quickly behind me.
"Papa," I breathed out, rushing over where he sat behind his desk.
"What is it, child?" He asked, concern in his voice as he sat up and made his way over to my shaking figure.
"The-ther-there p-people, I think their people, outside. In the hallway."
My father was now squatting down so that our heads were leveled, his hands gently on my shoulders. "Eleanor, how did they look like?"
I lost concentration on my father's eyes when I noticed out of the corner of my eye the candelabra from behind my father's desk flicker. He would not open a window, especially during the winter. He shook me a little, making me focus on him again.
"I don't know. They were covered in red cloaks. I could not see their faces."
My father stilled a bit before glancing over my shoulder and rising ever so slowly. "Eleanor, I want you to find Lady Di, and stay with her in your quarters until I send for you." His voice did not flatter.
"Papa, what's happening?" I questioned as my father turned me around and gently guided me towards the door. "I will explain, but at another time," he replied. It wasn't until we were halfway across the floor of the office that the door opened. In came the figures of red, moving silently into the office. There was five of them. It wasn't until they were all in that they spoke. "Cyneþrymm." They were all men, probably old; the deepness of their tongue suggested so.
"Rýneu," My father seemed to reply back. I felt my father lean close to my ear and whisper, "Go now. They will not harm you."
I didn't move. I just stood there, gawking in fear at the Rýneu. A slight pushed from my father somehow made my feet move forward, but only ever so slowly. They did not move as I made my way cautious over to the door. Never until that point of my life was I ever so frightened. The books I had brought with me remained tucked to my chest, with my knuckles turning white by the minute from the grip I had.
"Cwéne," one of them said. I had no idea what compelled me to do so, must have been curiosity at best, but I looked up at the rýne who spoke to me. In the darkness that hid his face, I saw a faint smile. With a quick curtesy and a broken "how do you do," I bolted out of my father's office and to my chambers.
If the rýneu indeed show up without beckoning, then I damn hope they come soon.
***
The barren queen was pleased. This could – no, this was the miracle she had been dreaming for. The joy that had long been deprived from her was finally in reach.
But all good things, even something as innocent as a newborn, comes with a price. Desperation is no different from self-interest.