The Queen's Burden by Robbie McGuinness
Whispers echoed through the palace walls and into the surroundingdesert. The chatter had been incessant, Waddir thought, ever since Priests andChampions began to arrive at the Palace with their great undead retinues.
Many of his fellow mummified servants spoke in hushed tones ofwar, as their idle bones stirred with the hope of something, anything, new tobreak from their century old routines.Waddir paid little mind to these rumours as he moved through thegreat halls of the royal palace.
Though, he had to admit,the hosts of warriors filling the court seemed to hint that war was coming.
He clung to the great clay vase filled with precious water,blessed by one of the visiting Priests. He had better things to do than concernhimself with idle speculation.
Waddir nodded to a guard, who seemed to barely acknowledge himbefore opening the door.
As Waddir entered, he saw Queen Kattira seated upon her throne.Surrounded by attendants, she sent them away with a flick of her fingers asWaddir knelt before her.
Wordlessly, she presented her hand. Her flesh had been preservedagainst the curse by enchantments and wards.
Waddir set down the vase and began to wash her hands. His drybones moved gently over her skin, and he could not help but think of howdistant a memory his own mortal days were.
“My Queen,” a guard entered the room, “Royal Champion Naddan has returned fromhis quest. He has recovered the Sceptre of Tayyifa from Beastmen raiders andnow requests your audience.”
Kattira nodded her assent and the guard departed to inform thechampion. Waddir rose to leave, but a gesture from the Queen told him to stay.
The Champion moved into the hall with a confident step, kneelingto the Queen only a moment before he began to recount his heroic deeds.Although he offered the formal respect that the Queen was due, Waddir felt thathis tone had an undue familiarity to it.
If Queen Kattira took offence to his brashness, she did not showit. Indeed, as Naddan boasted of his successes over the Beastmen, she showedlittle response at all. Her face was almost as expressionless as Waddif’s ownskeletal features.
She interrupted Naddan a few times, asking for clarification on practical matters such astheir foes’ positions or magical capabilities. For the most part however, shelistened silently.
Perhaps, Waddir thought, the Champion feared she was bored and sohe began to embellish his tales ever further. Waddir, however, felt that hermind was caught up in otherconcerns.
Her neutral expression only broke when the Champion spoke ofdestroyed Soul Stones within his party.
Though Naddan mentioned it only to emphasize the danger that hehad overcome, the Queen’s expression grew more troubled. She pressed him fordetails on the names and kin of those who were lost.
It was clear, at least to Waddir, that the loss of those soulsweighed heavily upon the Queen.
The thought of eternal torment before the gates of paradise wasnot a pleasant one. Yet, this was the fate that awaited any who allowed theirSoul Stone to break.
At last, the Champion concluded his tales, and presented the Staff of Tayyifaalongside some other treasures which he had recovered. Queen Kattira rose toaccept it and offered her formal thanks. Though she performed her partemotionlessly, Naddan still seemed quite pleased with the praise.
The Queen placed the sceptre by her throne and returned to herseat. She made no gesture, seemingly caught in a world of her own, as Waddirstood beside her still as a stone.
Waddir broke the silence.
“Are you well, majesty?”
Waddir knew it was not his place to speak, but he felt compelledto comfort the solitary figure before him.
The Queen turned her head to him, her blank expression slowlymelting into a sad smile.
“Is it not strange,” she said softly, “to ask a dead woman whether sheis well?”
Waddir stood in silence, unsure of what to say but she merelypresented her hands.
“You are kind to worry, Waddir,” Kattira continued “But it is notthe place of a Queen to put her burdens upon her people. I shall do as I mustand you must do the same.”
Waddir’s neck drew back in surprise as she spoke his name. He hadserved her many years, but the familiarity in her voice now was strange to him.
Waddir reached into his pouch, drawing out his pigments to beginhis careful work upon her nails. This was usually a time of welcome quiet forthe Queen, yet her expression soon shifted back to melancholy.
“I beg your forgiveness Queen,” Waddir spoke again, “But thissilence is a greater burden than I can bear. Speak to me of what troubles you and I shall beeternally grateful.”
“It is a troubling thing to order soldiers to their demise,”Queen Kattira sighed, “when we know that their souls shall never findpeace.”
Waddir nodded, continuing his work without speaking.
“Worse still,” she continued, “Naddan’s victory shows beyond doubtthat it was the Beastmen who have been raiding our caravans and tombs.Preparations have already begun for war, and it will be my order that sends somany more of our people to meet this cruel fate.”
“You are our Queen,” Waddir replied in confusion, “If you do notwish to fight then…”
Kattira shook her head, “If I do not act, the raids will continue.Our foes are already eager for revenge, if half of what Naddan spoke was true.”
Waddir nodded and spoke no more after that. Yet, Kattira’sexpression seemed lighter to him. Perhaps, he hoped, he now carried some of herburden for her.
He finished his work and excused himself formally. He knew thatthe next time he would see her might not be for many months, if she was to leadthe campaign personally.
Waddir was shocked then, when he was summoned again that sameevening. The Queen had requested that he attend to her personally on a visit tothe Royal Tomb.
Waddir arrived in the throne room in time to hear the conclusionof a meeting. Two officials were locked in dispute. A Herald pleaded with theQueen that more Priests be sent to join the armies upon their coming campaign.A high-ranking clergyman argued that enough of his colleagues had been sentalready and to demand more would leave temples empty with too few remaining toproperly honour the Gods.
Queen Kattira had asked for scribes to lay out records from thetemple and the army. Standing over the table, she read through the records with precision. No Priestswere to be left idle and each formation was to ensure they made the best use ofwhat they had. Her orders sounded like a chisel against stone; sharp, preciseand final.
The meeting concluded as the official came to a tense agreement.Both sides had wanted moreconcessions, but neither had cause to complain.
The meeting concluded as both sides left to make preparations. Asthe last official left, the Queen rose from her throne. She moved to the door.
Waddir stood still as a statue. Unacknowledged, he suspected thathe had been called in error.
Kattira turned to him as she reached the door, “Will you join me,or have you reconsidered accepting my invitation?”
“Of,” Waddir stuttered a moment, “Of course not.”
Waddir bowed low and then moved beside her.
Silently, they walked through the great halls of the palace. Asthe last light of twilight lit the halls, Waddir felt the emptiness of thepalace compared to the bustling halls that he had passed through in themorning.
Eventually, they emerged from the palace into the gardens. Most of the city’s fieldshad been left fallow when the curse struck and food became unnecessary. Many oftheir people no longer cared to maintain plants, yet Kattira had ordered thegardens surrounding her family’s tombs be preserved and tended to.
She extended a hand, reaching out to feel the texture of the datepalms and fig trees, savouring the scent of flowers and papyrus. As she walked,she looked at Waddir who watched her curiously, seemingly oblivious to theplants that surrounded him.
She gave her attendanta melancholy smile asshe saw how little note he took of the life around them.
Waddir felt a strange pang, without understanding the cause.Before he could speak however, he bowed his head low.
Kattira looked curiously at her attendant, until turning forwardand seeing her mother.
The Queen Mother, Zokhuza, sat alone, tending to a datepalm.
“Mother,” Queen Kattira spoke, “You should have stayed with yourattendants.”
“You worry too much, darling,” Zokhuza replied, “Your father willbe home soon and we must ensure the gardens are ready.”
Kattira’s lips tightened at the mention of her father. Waddircould still remember the ceremony that commemorated his demise when his SoulStone had broken so many years ago.
“Waddir,” Kattira said without turning her head, “Please find some attendantsto help my mother. I will wait with her.”
Waddir bowed and hurried back to the palace, seeking to find someguards. He returned within half an hour, after finding a patrol of nightguards.
They arrived to see Kattira and her mother working together on thesame date palm.
Her mother looked at them without a hint of recognition.
“Mother,” Kattira spoke softly, “You must get your rest. I willfinish with the palm.”
Her mother looked at Kattira blankly a moment before nodding,“Very well dear, but do not daudle. Your father will be most disappointed ifthe gardens are not in order.”
Slowly, she rose from her seat and the guards led her gently backto the palace.
Kattira watched them as they faded into the darkness.
“I am sorry,” Waddir spoke, not fully understanding what he wasapologizing for, “Are you well?”
Kattira smiled, remembering his first words to her that day.
If a blush could have formed on Waddir’s bone cheeks, it wouldhave then.
“It is an old illness of the mind. She had it already, in part,when we were still,” Kattira trailed off.
“Before the curse,” Waddir offered.
“Yes,” Kattira nodded, “But it has only gotten worse with time. Weare all prisoners in our bodies, unable to move on from this life but my motheris a prisoner of her own mind.”
Waddir nodded solemnly. He did not know what the Queen saw in thegarden, the memories of life were long behind him, but he understood this alltoo well.
“Let us continue to the tombs,” Kattira spoke, “The twilight willfade soon.”
As the two approached the tomb, Kattira reached out and wrappedher arm around Waddir’s humerus.
Waddir twisted his neck insurprised.
Kattira did not turn to look, her eyes fixed upon the shadow ofher father’s gravesite, nearly lost in the darkness.
Waddir pushed open the heavy door and bowed his head as heentered. His hands searched for a torch in the darkness.
Behind him, he heard Kattira murmur a few words.
He turned to look at her, only to see the entire tomb lit by aneerie green glow.
“Come,” She said, “There are generations of my family buried inthese tombs. They make anunbroken chain tracing as far back as any history can recall.”
Kattira traced the stone engravings with her fingers, until shecame to a closed sarcophagus. On eachside, an inscription marked the bed onwhich it lay; “Rammad lies here. Last living king of our people. Great is hishonour.”
“My father lies here,” Kattira said, “Many thought he would be ourlast ruler. He was a proud man and a strong warrior. When I was a child, Ithought that he could not fall on the field of battle, but I was wrong. Now,there will be no peace for his restlesssoul.”
“My mother asked him once, why he fought,” She touched thesarcophagus, “What was worth the risk of eternal torment? He replied that wecould lie and wait for all eternity, wait for the ocean to swallow the worldand the sun to grow cold or we could find a purpose to devote ourselves to. Wecould uphold our gods, defend our lands and create new memories as we once didwhen our hearts still beat.”
“He made his choice, and soon I will make the same decision.”
Waddir nodded solemnly.
Kattira smiled. Her smile had a genuine warmth to it. For Waddir,it brought back faint memories of the feeling of warm sunlight against his skinon a cool day, so many years ago.
“I think I understand, my Queen,” Waddir said, “I have found mypurpose. I serve my Queen, and through you, I serve my gods and my people.”
Kattira let out a gentle laugh, before her smile faded. Waddirfeared he had offended her.
After a moment, the Queen spoke.
“It is strange to be another’s purpose. Whether to one person orto thousands but it is the fate I have been given.” Kattira spoke softly as shelooked at her father’s tomb, “I can only strive to be a worthy cause.”
“Come with me,” she said solemnly.
Waddir followed as she led him deeper into the tomb. She led himto a hallway, before turning at the first door. Inside was a small room, thewall lined with inscriptions.
“Is this... your tomb?” Waddir paused from his reading.
“It was meant to be,” Kattira said, “Before the curse, I wassickly. It was expected that I would die before my father. I would have beenlaid to rest here, without ever having held the responsibilities and duties ofa Queen. Sometimes, I come here alone to reflect and remember the life I oncehad.”
“I have something to ask my Queen,” he bowed his head, “Why haveyou brought me here?”
“You asked me to share my burdens,” Kattira ran her hand along herburial bed, “I decided to honour your request.”
Waddir bowed, but Kattira gestured for him to rise, “Please. Do notlook at me as your Queen while we are here. Tell me, honestly, do you regretasking to share my burden? Or do you think that I trouble myself over trivialthings?”
Waddir shook his head, “I’m honoured you’d share this with me. Idon’t know if I understand all of it, but I don’t regret coming with you.”
“Tomorrow, I will speak to our people,” Kattira lifted herself up to the burial slabwhere her sarcophagus would rest, “I will lead them to war for the first time.Some of us will not return but I have decided it is what must be done.”
Kattira looked at Waddir, “Have I made the right decision?”
“I,” Waddir shook his head, “I don’t know, my Queen.”“It was unfair to ask such a question of you. I am sorry, Waddir,” Kattira gavea melancholic smile, “The weight lies upon the crown. I am grateful for yourpresence tonight, but I think I will stay here a while.”
There was a pause as Waddir searched for something to say, butKattira shook her head gently.
“You have not offended me. I just need to be alone.”
Reluctantly, Waddir nodded and turned to leave.
As he stepped out of the tomb, the ghostly green lightextinguished itself.
Waddir paused in the faint moonlight, to look upon the tomb.
At once, he felt closer to his Queen than he ever had in his life,and yet farther than ever. They had been side by side so many times, yet shehad often seemed distant. Now, he understood her a little better and it felt asthough the two of them were from entirely different planes.
Despite this, as he walked through the garden towards the palace,he felt that his devotion to her had only grown.
Waddir was awoken when a pair of palace guards came to hischamber. After confirming that they had not found the wrong person, theydelivered their message. The Queen had personally requested his presence at herspeech.
Waddir approached the courtyard. There, he was escorted throughthe crowd of commoners and the tight ranks of warriors, bearing banners fromthroughout the realm. Their golden shields and armour gleaming in the sun.Their great curved war horns sounded throughout the court as hymns and battlechants began to ring out through the columns.
As Waddir approached the Royal Guard, a Sergeant stopped him.Despite the insistence of the Warriors escorting him, the Sergeant stated thathe had strict orders not to allow anyone closer. The three argued until achorus of horns announced the presence of the Queen.
Waddir knelt.
Rank by rank, the soldiers did so as well. Even thearguing soldiers stopped theirargument and bent their knees .
The Queen approached the edge of the balcony, lined with columns.Flickers of fire from torches burnt brightly fromthe balcony, lining the morning sky like stars.
She stood before the crowd for a moment in silence.
Waddir raised his head. For a moment, he felt the melancholy thathe had seen in her before. Though her face was too far to see clearly, hethought he could see doubt cross her face.
Before she spoke, she seemed to search the faces of the crowd fora moment. Waddir looked at her and for a second, he felt their gazes meet. Heknew he was too far for her to recognize, he could not escape the feeling thatshe had seen him.
Then, she began.
“A war is not something which should be begun lightly. It is ahard and bitter thing, one that brings us all closer to our end. Whether it iswe who die, or those we love. Our people know death well, we know what we faceafterwards.”
“Yet, we cannot hide from death or war when it comes to us,”Kattira raised the gold sceptre which Naddan had returned to her, “Banditshaunt our roads, pillage our homes and raid our ancestor’s tombs. We cannotallow this.”
“We may no longer draw breath or live as we once did, but we canyet find purpose. A purpose for which we are willing to risk everything. Mypurpose is my people. I will defend those who still walk upon the land and thememory of those we have lost. I will not allow marauders to disturb the sandsof my home, or threaten those whom I love.”
“Today, I shall begin my campaign to drive these invaders back. Iwill return what they have stolen, so that all they have left when they leaveour land is scars. If I meet my end, then I shall face it with pride. I shallface it for my people.”
“It is no small risk I am undertaking and it is not something Iwill command another to take. So, I tell you now,” she spoke, “I am marching towar. Will you follow me?”
For a moment, the crowd was silent. It was a speech quitedifferent from those of her father.
Then, Waddir rose. The two guards escorting him and the Sergeant rose soon after. In a wave, the entirecrowd began to rise. A warhorn bellowed, soonjoined by the others and crowderupted into cheers.
“For our Queen!” a chant went up.
“For our People!” another echoed.
“We march!” a final chant echoed through the crowd.
In the confusion, Waddir moved forward, slipping past the RoyalGuard. Although he was a mere servant, he moved confidently through the ranksof Priests and Champions nearest the Queen, until he came to the end of thestairs.
He saw Queen Kattira approach from the top, looking stoicly overthe crowd. As she reached the bottom, she approached the crowd of nobility andclergy that had knelt before her.
She smiled,looking over them.
Then, she saw Waddir near the front. She approached him as heknelt. With a regal grace,Kattira extended her hand to him as she had often done while he painted hernails.
Waddir wrapped his bony fingers around her hand, looking closelyat the nails he had carefully painted the day before.
He had asked a simple question then, but one which he felt mighthave changed the course of his life.
“I have found my purpose, Waddir,” Kattira spoke softly, “Are youcertain that you have found yours?”
Waddir pressed his bare skull against Kattira’s hand, “Absolutely,my Queen.”
Kattira nodded and after a moment of hesitation, she drew back herhand. She turned to thecrowd, “Let us march together. Whether we go now to victory or doom, we shall meet our fate with purpose.”
