INJUSTICE
Skylar pulled open the rough-hewn oak door
to the lab and slipped inside.
“Dad? You here?”
Only silence returned her call. The cat sitting high on a black lacquered cabinet
gave her a cursory glance and licked its shoulder. “Shadow, have you seen my dad?”
“Not here,” Shadow purred.
“Obviously, I’ll take that as a no.” She rubbed the top of his head. “You’re right
where I want to get into,”
He pushed against her hand as she moved
his tail to open the cabinet.
She pulled some
vials and read the labels. “Ah, here we are – Arsenic, Arrow Poison Frog
extract, Botulinum and a jar of Castor beans.” She set them on the table. The
most interesting to her was botulism. Her
dad, Rufus, was going to show her how to convert mixture to headache remedy.
Ridding the Queen of her migraines had endeared Rufus to the court.
Skylar glanced at the clock hanging on the
lab wall. Not like her dad to be late. That wasn’t like him. He was supposed to
teach her advanced usage of the poisons.
Alchemy provided only one of her father’s skill
subsets. Rufus’ ability to transmute a bag of liquid petroleum, naphtha,
burning pitch, Sulphur or quicklime, and
bitumen into flame at the touch of water was but a trick of chemistry. Nevertheless, the King thought magic played a
part. Thus, the reason Rufus and his family lived in the lap of luxury.
Rufus taught her the formula when she was
a young teenager. Once he taught her the
nature of proportion, she made the mixture easily along with other potions. Where
was he?
She grasped the pentagram necklace and
closed her eyes. Nothing came to her; she
wasn’t a seer to the extent of her father.
She only inherited the interpretation of dreams. There were only a couple hours left before
she was to meet her friends at the Inter-Kingdom Tavern. She had already
dressed for going out so not to have to change when her dad finished his
lesson. Which almost always ran longer than she planned for. Deciding to check
his quarters in the East tower she stuffed the vials away trying not to disturb
Shadow, but the cat laid down with his paws over the sill keeping her from
closing the doors.
“Shadow, please move.”
“Scratch ears.”
Taking the cats head in both hands she
generously stroked the back of his ears. “You are enjoying this entirely too
much.” After slipping her hand down his sides she lifted him and set him on the
floor and shut the cabinet doors. “I have to go.” Skylar said.
She stepped out on to the tan granite
floor of the passageway and hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps when Mildred,
a serving girl, passed her. Skylar
started to greet her, but the Mildred
diverted her eye’s as soon as Skylar was recognized.
Grabbing her arm, Skylar stopped her. “Mildred, what’s wrong? Are you trying to
ignore me?”
“So sorry, Mam’. I did not see you.”
“Yes, you did. What is going on?”
Mildred looked up and down the
passageway. “Your father has been taken
to the dungeon.”
Only the royal couple could order
that. “Are you sure? Do you know why?”
“No Mam’.”
Dad had told her someday this would
happen. Letting go of her arm, Skylar returned
to the lab and pulled out the vial of Botulinum. She pulled off the stopper and
noted the level of the thick greenish goop. Aware of the potency of the spinach created
batch, she handled the glass bottle with care. An apprentice of her dad had
pulled out the same vial and touched his finger to the substance and then
touched his tongue. The young man
dropped to the floor instantly unconscious and died within an hour. They never understood why he did that; he
should have known better.
Rufus told her he had a cure good only for
a diluted use of the poison. A dose straight from the bottle was certain death
as the apprentice had proved.
She knew what to do. After finding tweezers, she pinched a drop of the mixture and scrapped it off into
another vial. She poured the white juice of the grape in to fill the bottle
the rest of the way. Squeezing a cork in the top. Skylar shook the concoction between
thumb and finger.
~~~#~~~
Skylar found the kitchen as she expected,
a bustle of activity with stirring sticks banging pot sides, cooks chopping
herbs and helpers slicing thick slabs of ham to stack on a platter. A butcherer
dressing out lamb with sharp snapping of his clever never paid any attention to
her as she passed. By the stone baking
ovens where a rich aroma a bread permeated the air a bake chef fixed a
strawberry-rhubarb pie for the Queen. Her
highness was the only one that would eat the nasty thing.
“Hello, Penny,” Skylar greeted.
“Hi,
Sky. You going out? You’re all dressed up.” Penny dropped a wad of kneaded flour on a
lightly powedered board on the counter
and pushed on the spongy dough with both hands.
“Later perhaps. I see you have the filling ready to go
in. You making
the top now?”
“I am.”
“I’ll spoon in the fruit so you can put
the top on when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Sweetheart. If you don’t think
it will mess up your nice outfit. I am a little behind. I just have to roll out
the dough out and cut it.”
~~~#~~~
Skylar changed out of her evening attire
after missing the rendezvous with her friends and sat at her vanity in her room
waiting. The expected knock came, and she opened her door. The court jester stood in the frame. The tassels on his hat, the bright reds,
greens and yellow of his tunic coupled with the curled-up toes on his shoes belied
the worried expression of his white powdered face.
“Yes?” Skylar asked. “I was about to retire.”
“Mam’, the King summons you to the Queen’s
bedchamber.”
“Tell him I’m tired and will come
tomorrow.”
“Please, if you don’t come now the King
will take my head.”
“You know he would never do that.”
“True, but I don’t want to have a
prolonged visit in the dungeon either.” His eyes rounded out. “Ah, oh… I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean--.”
“Not your fault.” Skylar leaned in and whispered,
“Is it?”
“Oh no, of course not. I promise I had
nothing to do with that.”
“All right. Let’s go.” Wrapping a shawl
around her unadorned shift against the late drafty corridors of the palace. She
snapped the door shut behind her and followed the fool.
~~~#~~~
The Queen was deathly pale, almost
matching the whiteness of her pillow. Her
breathing was shallow, and every couple of minutes she doubled up and grasped
her stomach.
A personal guard to the king stood by the
side of the bedchamber door. The King kneeling
on one knee held the Queen’s hand.
Skylar drew his attention as she came to a halt at the foot of the
bed. “An illness has struck my
wife. You will make her well?”
Skylar moved to the other side of the bed
and took the Queen by the wrist. The
pulse was racing. “I cannot.”
“You will, I command it.”
“The Queen has been struck with a terrible
affliction.”
The King studied her. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s called injustice.” Skylar dropped the Queen’s arm and stood
erect. “Justice floats invisible in the air to alight on those that have done wrong.
This is but one form it can take. She will die unless you release my father. Only
he can help the Queen.”
The King rose and moved his arm to where
his sword hilt would have hung if had he worn it. “You have done this to the
Queen.”
“No, you have done this to your wife. Only
you can right an injustice of this sort. My father bodes no ill to anyone. He
will heal her.” Skylar locked gazes with him without flinching.
Dropping his hand, he turned his head. “Go release Rufus right now. Inform him of the Queen’s condition and bid
him come posthaste.”
The guard slipped from the room.
“You are right. I locked Rufus
up in a moment of anger. Although he
provoked me, I pardon him.” King dropped
to his knee and took up the Queen’s hand again.
“After your father heals the Queen, this will never be spoken of again.”
Skylar bowed and backed from the room.
