The gray of the fog begrudgingly gave way to the heat of the early morning sun. The sun had climbed the far side of the Bulaguze mountains and was slowly finding its way down to King Ragus Harbeth’s, ruler of all Estinolla, funeral pyre. It inched through the thick pine forest leaving long shadows in its wake. Splashing over the small steam, it lit white and orange sparkles on the ripples of the water. It was closing on the funeral torch when the Queen Ellsbeth Harbeth arrived.
The two guards stepped off the back of the black gauze covered coach and quick stepped to the side door. They were in full dress uniforms, red beret, dark blue waist length jackets, matching blue trousers that were neatly tucked inside their black riding boots. The guards quickly took their place on each side of the door. They faced the pyre and saluted the King. Slowly they lowered their right arms to their sides. The guard on the left opened the door. The other offered his white gloved hand to the queen and helped out of the carriage. After the queen shook the ride of her dress and pulled her black veil down across her face, he offered her his left arm. She placed her black lace gloved right hand on it. They walked like that down the aisle formed by the mourners to the pyre.
Fools, she thought. If they only knew what a contemptible man he really was.
By tradition, the body of the deceased is cremated the first sunrise after death. The guard took slow and measured steps that the queen could easily take. Through her black veiled eyes, she saw that most the mourners were staff and townspeople. She recognized most of the dignitaries from other cities that were meeting with the King when the stroke all but killed him. She gave them an icy glare as she passed them.
Do not think I am ignorant to the lust you have for my kingdom. Yes, my kingdom, and you all have a price to pay.
***
Most of the castle staff stood in the last two rows furthest from the pyre.
Nothrea Barin, the head staffing maid dabbed a tear from the corner of her eye with a small white napkin borrowed from the Fine Dinning drawer.
“Poor girl must be heart broken,”
“Aye,” Dorei Ciotheran, the youngest of the chamber maids said. She stood to the right of Nothrea. “Coming so sudden like.”
Clive Birn, the head groundskeeper poked his head between the two women.
“Did he not die in bed?”
“What?” Nothrea said.
Drak Dirth, head stableman, stood to Dorei’s left leaned in.
“Aye, I heard that too.”
“Maybe she killed him with her love,” Clive chuckled.
“Have you been into the ale already? What kind of talk is that at a funeral,” Nothrea said in a disgusted tone.
The men started quietly chuckling.
“I heard he had quite drive,” Clive laughed.
“Shut up,” Nothrea said through gritted teeth.
“Aye,” Drak snickered. “And talented fingers too.”
“Your horrible man Drak Dirth,” Nothrea said as she shook her fist at him. ‘Tell them Dorei”
“He did have talented fingers,” Dorei proclaimed
“Dorei!” Nothrea said almost too loud.
Dorei blushed.
* * *
The sun had passed through the magnifying glass and started the black pyre torch burning as the queen reached the priest waiting for her at the end of the aisle.
“Thank you,” she said to the guard as she removed her hand from his elbow.
The guard stood in silence as he watched the queen and the High Priest approach the funeral torch. The High Priest stopped two paces short of the torch stand.
He took her hands and said,” “His passing brings us all sorrow. I will pray for the king’s soul and for yours also.”
Yes, yes you pompous ass. You will soon find out I am not easily manipulated like the king. I do not share his fear of the church or of its God.
‘Thank you,” she said in a soft, mournful voice.
The High Priest started praying while the queen continued to the stand. She reached the stand, took a knee and bowed her head.
“I am finally rid of you and your ways,” she said out load in a soft voice.
The queen stood up, took the torch and tossed it on the pyre. Quickly the dried wood was ablaze.
She took a few steps back while watching the flames reach the body of her dead husband.
“May your ashes reach the peak of Mount Plathos and fall deeply into the snow,” she said quietly. “May you rest freezing your ass off for eternity.”
She turned her back to the fire, walked to the guard, took his elbow and let him lead her back to the coach.
The crowd of mourners quietly dispersed after the queen’s coach was out of sight. Most of them walking back to the capital city.
“Poor girl must be heartbroken,” Nothrea said in a sadden voice.
“Aye,” Dorei said “I will agree with you again. They were married a long time. Cannot imagine the loss she feels.”
“Twenty-six years it’s been.” Nothrea said. “I remember the first time I saw her. She was a mere sixteen-year-old child and scared to death.”
“I would have been too,”
“She had the two boys so quickly that we thought there would be an army of children running around in the castle,” Nothrea said with a chuckle.” But two is all she had.”
“Too bad they were not here,” Dorei said. “But I understand. They are so far away in their own towns now.”
“Yes, it is too bad,” Nothrea said. “I am sure they will come here once the news gets to them.”
***
Queen Ellsbeth took full strides through the castle foyer; her heels contact on the floor echoed through the empty chamber. She threw off the black veiled hat and let it hit the floor. Next were the black lace gloves discarded like used tissues. The maids scurried behind her picking up the discarded clothing. She climbed the twenty-two steps two at a time to the landing.
She stopped in front of the large wooden door of her chambers and she held her arms straight out from her sides.
“Undress me,” she commanded.
“My Lady?” the maid asked.
“Undress me,” her tone was of anger.
“But...”
“Are my words not clear, is my language queer to your ear,” her rising anger was not hidden.
“But my queen there is...”
“Queen Ellsbeth, what she is trying to say is I am here,” the castle manager, Bahanna Stern said.
“Yes, my queen, that is...”
“If the castle manager has not seen a woman undressed, it is time he has.”
She turned around and faced Bahanna. Her arms were still out from her sides.
‘Now, undress me.” she said coldly.
The two maids started undressing her.
“Burn them all.” she said in an icy tone.
The maids glanced at the Bahanna. He nodded.
“Then burn all of the Kings clothes, all of them.
The Bahanna shook his head.
“Would it not be better to give them to the people my Queen,” his deep voice was steady.
“No, it would not,” she said standing half naked and staring him in the eyes. “I will not be reminded of that pig. And if I see anyone wearing any of his clothes, they will be executed.”
“As you wish my Queen.”