Responsibility Ch. 34

Author's Note: I'm not a doctor of any type. I'm no expert in injuries nor medicine. Also, I somehow lost a good chuck of the previous chapters on my computer, and I'm worried about being inconsistent. Please forgive me if I made any mistakes.

***

With her own hands, even with her broken fingers stiff in splints, Rahela unwrapped the bandages from His Majesty's hands.

There were still some old spots of blood there. He was much paler. It was ghastly. A few thin patches of the man's skin were gone, although there were attempts at healing. Some minor pieces of skin from his very own backside had been carefully removed and stitched over certain wounds.

Rahela rinsed his hands with water that had previously been filtered, boiled, filtered once more and then cooled. This still appeared to sting, and His Majesty grimaced, yet there were no objections. Once that was finished, she picked up a jar of honey and tested a spoonful of it right on her tongue. It seemed perfectly safe to her. She used a different spoon to take the honey she needed.

In a bowl, this honey was mixed with activated charcoal, which she'd also studied beforehand. Once there was a good paste, Rahela applied it to the her husband's hands. Finally, she dressed him with fresh bandages.

She was silent the entire time. She wouldn't engage in any conversation. She would barely respond to the man's words, no matter how friendly they sounded.

Rahela took the leftover paste and mixed it with some helpful herbs and a bit of sugar, forming a thicker material that could be cut into a few pills. She gave these pills to His Majesty, who swallowed them with a few gulps of water.

The Emperor rested his back and head on the pillows stacked against his bed's headboard. Then he gave a gentle little smile. "You're the only shining one here, and now that your most threatening enemies have been cowed, you can have peace."

Still perched on the mattress, near a tray of materials, Rahela put a hand to her lips and turned her eyes away. She knew that Princess Tuya likely wasn't the source of all the problems she'd had. She also knew there would be problems in the future.

There would always be secret enemies hiding beneath her sight.

A short chuckle, and the Emperor said, "Any remaining rebels might have been daunted by your rejoinder to the latest attempt," here, he sounded truly amused, "Rahela the Flesh Taker."

Rahela chose not to react to that.

Smoothly, she took the tray and rose to walk down the platform. "Rest and recuperate, My Lord. I'll medicate you as often as I must."

Once her face was in the opposite direction, she frowned.

The fool should've used oiled gloves when he pulled her from the bath.

He'd been regularly taking charcoal and honey ever since the traitorous nobles had all gone out for everyone to see them.

Caution had him resting, since he did bear some mild symptoms. Occasional headaches. Trembling. Burning sensations in his hands. No more skin, and thankfully no muscle, had fallen away, but there was still concern.

Rahela went back to her bedchamber. She had a very Yahsin styled headdress tied and pinned to her veil. It had a scalloped shape, outlined with pearls and small emeralds. Then she donned a rather fine cloak and went to seek out the most important ranking servants she knew of, including the Fowl Keeper. Poultry and eggs were very important.

With stern and unforgiving serenity, Rahela personally told them if there were any grievances they should be given right then. She wasn't in a lazy mood, and she wanted to check in with people.

This one's salary was too low. This one's salary was too high. There weren't enough of a certain type of broom. Some animals hadn't been breeding as successfully. Those sorts of complaints were written down by Yana while Rahela coldly stood, or sat down. Sometimes she had a cup of something expensive, often abruptly requested for.

By the afternoon, Rahela was back in her bedchambers with her new set of chambermaids, all of whom had only been lower status cleaning girls or scullery maids not long ago. With Yana and Gabi even closer, Rahela said that she was ready to give an audience to Leran, the tall jester that had been so helpful to the empire.

It didn't take long for that thin, peculiar man to enter the room, a light smile on his face. He stood some feet away from the seated Rahela and bowed. Taking another sip of some fancy drink, Rahela nodded up to him, and she said, "Jester, you've lived so honestly to me, and so deceivingly to my enemies. I have no understanding of your motive, but I'll have a part of it in the least. Tell me your desire, and to my ability I'll grant it."

The man's head remained low, but thanks to his height and Rahela's position, she could see some of the happy wrinkles on his face. His long fingers kept to his sides. "Your Majesty, my request isn't a happy one."

"How could that be?" Rahela asked after a tiny swallow of her beverage.

A pause.

She was fairly surprised that the man hadn't taken a deep breath. He was colder than she was, smile or no smile.

"I want your first born daughter."

The cup slipped from her fingers. A honey-colored liquid splattered everywhere.

Yana gasped.

Gabi gave the tall man a confused look.

The chambermaids had mixed reactions, but none of them were approving.

Uncaring of her now stained gown and cloak, Rahela stood up and pointed her eyes toward the door. Deep in her belly, she was trembling and scared, because she knew that anyone bold enough to demand a child from her must have a way to avoid any punishment. Some hidden might was lurking behind that man's face.

Smile or no smile.

"An undaunted arrangement of words," Rahela said, "they came from a low commoner with no disquiet. I have little choice but to ask what will be done if I refuse that request?"

Leran's head rose slowly.

Rahela's stomach fell, shattered, and might've even chilled at the end of the drop.

Leran's eyes were so black, and she knew, simply knew that his irises and pupils were now the exact same shade. There was no way to distinguish the two.

Not only that, but they seemed bigger than before, with only a bit of visible sclera.

In that same, friendly voice, the jester said, "Your Majesty, you won't need to carry out my request. Please consider this exchange a friendly warning. Assuming you will have a healthy and fertile daughter, she will endure an indescribable pain at my command, and you will have no way to protect her."

Rahela's stomach wasn't cold anymore.

It reconstituted itself and boiled.

One of her eyelids flickered.

Her hands shook.

Before she could give a word, Leran spoke again. "Only civility and a dash of boredom had me come to this castle as a jester. I have no true barriers here. In that way, I'm the same as that Traveling Tall Maiden."

Rahela blinked.

He wasn't there.

***

She heard the words among the whispers.

Rahela the Flesh Taker.

No longer were there known hints to her being weak, nor incompetent.

The only subject of greater curiosity was Jester Leran, and that was only because he was missing. Nobody could even properly speculate the truth, but one favored hunch was the idea that it involved the recent bathing incident. He had led those traitors to their own deaths, after all, which implied some loyalty to the Emperor and or his wife.

The reasons for his loyalty, if it could be called such, were unknown exactly. He'd been treated well but many felt that hadn't been enough. So why had he been loyal? And why was he gone? Was he on a special mission only a jester could have? Perhaps he'd been sent to entertain a secret enemy?

Whatever the reason was, it wasn't known.

Rahela discussed the matter with her husband, who was still in bed with heavily wrapped hands. Those wrapped hands were petting a napping puppy in his lap. Rahela could tell by the breed that the dog would normally be kept for war, but His Majesty had specifically asked for a little baby dog to keep as a companion. Not an old dog that could no longer fight, no, he wanted a puppy to have for only himself.

When he'd been told that Leran had asked for their first born daughter, his hands left the puppy and fiercely clawed the blanket. Rahela reached out to grip his wrists, and she said, "Please don't aggravate your wounds. You must heal."

The puppy stirred in its sleep. The fur was a dark gray, and so soft that it made Rahela think of some of her finest fur-lined clothing. Such a fortunate animal, to be able to keep its precious coat and live among the coat-stealers.

Once Rahela as finished telling the little story, His Majesty rested his palms back on the puppy and bitterly stared down at it. "I envy this pup's mother, for she did not mind when we took her child away."

"I want to believe that Leran's unable to do such a thing. I want to believe his threat was hollow." Rahela decided to reach over and stroke one of the puppy's slack ears. His nose twitched and one of his paws kicked a bit.

His frown deepening, the Emperor said, "You want to believe, but can you?"

"I don't know," Rahela admitted as her hand glided away from the puppy's ear.

"Acceptable." He shrugged. "How can you know? All we can do is live as if he never arrived. Don't give your thoughts room for him."

Rahela sighed and looked at the splints on two of her fingers. "That won't be difficult. I have many responsibilities."

That had a corner of his lips jerking up. "See to them well, Flesh Taker."

***

His Majesty was now well enough to sit on his throne at the Imperial Court Meeting. Thanks to his bandages, he didn't wear his heavy rings, but he was still glittering with heavy things. Layers of necklaces, his bold crown, metallic embroidery and buttons. A glistening silk tunic of black. His indigo cloak with ermine fur.

The exception was his great scepter. Rahela stood by the throne and held the item whichever way was appropriate for the moment. She had to use the hand with no broken fingers, but she was still the better option.

The nobles attending this meeting seemed to be in overall easier moods. Or rather, they pretended to be agreeable. Rahela had wanted to assume the spring weather made traveling less of a burden. She knew better than to believe that. They were afraid they'd end up with their flesh eaten away.

Close to the end of the meeting, His Majesty called for Tarmo Ammas to kneel before the throne. On one knee, that man complied. His head was low. Rahela carefully laid the scepter onto the Emperor's lap. Then she moved down to take a sword from a servant. It had gold and jewels on the cross-guard and pommel. Thankfully, it wasn't too heavy for her.

A flat edge of the blade was laid on one shoulder of the kneeling man, then the brother. His Majesty gave the words from his throne while Rahela performed the physical part of the ritual. Ammas had just been given one of the provinces taken away from a traitorous noble, the title too.

Count Tarmo Ammas of the province of Bughashud.

Officially dismissed with honor from the position at the Empress Consort's side.

Rahela didn't want to lose such a fine bodyguard, but she felt that he needed to be rewarded for his great work. If he wasn't, her pride as an Empress would've been compromised.

She wondered how Oksana would react if she'd been told about this.

As Rahela held the sword away, the Emperor told Ammas to rise and answer to Lordship, for he was no longer a common man.

Polite applause.

This was a good action. Not only had a just man been properly compensated for his services, but now the nobles had been reminded that they were replaceable.

Once the meeting was finished, Rahela left to her bedchamber. She watched her reflection for a time. There were circles under eyes. Yana helped her unpin her bejeweled headdress while Gabi slid her crown away. Then her veil and cap were also removed. A chambermaid picked up a small comb to lightly work on the bit of pale hair on Rahela's head. Very little combing was required.

"Ma-madam," Yana said as she slipped rings off of Rahela's good fingers, "before... before c-c-court, I saw a tall... woman... through a window."

After a deep breath, Rahela quietly asked, "How tall was she?"

"I-impossibly... tall," answered Yana.

Rahela sighed.

***

The pivotal incident happened in daylight, in the gardens with the beautiful statues, actually right where the statue of Rahela was.

Nothing strange had been happening at the time. Rahlea was walking with her two girls. The weather was lightly warm. They wanted to enjoy it after such a long and vicious winter. Some servants were around, grooming the area. Some guards were around, trying not to let boredom show on their faces. It was a pleasant morning.

Then, without any warning, without any known reason, a clearly frightened guard from who knows where ran past Rahela and her girls. And right behind them, her stride oddly slow yet somehow gliding fairly quickly, there was that infamous maiden. That Traveling Tall Maiden. Rahela gasped and took her girls' wrists, pulling them away.

The running guard's path was halted by a dead end and a fence. Panicked, crying out for help, he took a sharp turn, then ran in the opposite direction once that maiden caught up. Rahela was trying to get away, but her path was crossed again by the guard. That man! He actually knocked Rahela right into the statue!

Now, up to this point, other guards had been asking what the matter was, but not doing much except to stare. Either they'd assumed the maiden was some random woman that was bold with harassment, or they'd known that was the frightening Traveling Tall Maiden and were too scared to do anything. Rahela had been too distracted with her fleeing to order them to do anything.

That statue was sturdy enough. All that happened was that Rahela received a terrible pain in her arm, perhaps a colorful bruise. She recovered and tried once more to get away.

But her eye caught a flash of black, pure black. Her body was frozen. She did hear Gabi and Yana screaming at her to move, but their voices were fading away.

***

Witnesses to the event claimed something peculiar. That Traveling Tall Maiden had elongated, her gown stretching with her limbs. Her eyes broadened unnaturally.

Then ... her ... head ...?

Some people couldn't be called witnesses. Some people were in a trance, Empress Consort Rahela included. Those that weren't in a trance were able to see the maiden that defied all concepts of reality. She'd seemed to lean down and pluck up the guard she'd been chasing.

With her head.

The guard's legs fell down, splattering blood.

As if the eyes had become a single mouth and cut the body right there.

But while that pitiable guard was gone, there was something like a savior.

A flash of something also tall. A man came. He was also growing taller, his eyes opening.

It was a tangle of limbs like insect legs. Nobody knew how to react to it, except to simply watch. The limbs grew even more, pushing people around.

Empress Rahela was knocked back into to statue of herself once more, leaving a spot of blood on her head and on the statue itself. She stayed limp and quiet, sleeping, while her lady and maid-in-waiting wept at her side.

When it was quiet again, the limbs shrunk back. There was only four of them, and eventually there was only one being in the center of attention.

Leran the Jester.

Blood around his eyes.

He grinned.

Then he announced to all present that he'd gotten what he'd wanted. He even said, "The random, wild beast is dead." Then he simply left, walked away. Either because they were too shocked, still in a trance, or unconscious depending on the person, nobody followed.

Leran was never heard from again, or at least not as he was known.

***

Rahela looked down at one of the many rings she wore, since they were so beautiful to her. It had the largest diamond she'd ever seen on a finger, and the golden band had intricate carvings similar to tree branches and leaves.

Her stomach froze.

Her hand!

The flesh was withered and spotty!

She stood up. When had she been sitting down anyway?

She looked down at her clothing. She was wearing a gown she'd never seen before. It was an intense red with silver and white stripes. She had a new belt too, made of several golden medallions. Around herself she saw maidens and little girls she didn't recognize.

"Gabi?! Yana?!" Rahela cried these names out as confusion and fear coated themselves over her heart. One of the little girls approached. Her little headdress was coated with weaved ribbons. She held a small mirror with a silver frame, and wordlessly, with an blank visage, she handed Rahela that mirror.

Rahela saw an aged face with haggard, if still colorful blue and green eyes. There were plaits of hair trailing out from a veil and headdress. She felt behind herself to find the plaits. She pulled one back. Why would she put her hair behind herself?

Wait, she wasn't supposed to have long hair. It had been cut away!

Eyes narrowing, Rahela realized the hair on her hand was too pale, actually ... it was gray! It wasn't that lustrous pale blonde she was so accustomed to. A wig?! She tugged on the plait. Pain. It was firmly attached to her scalp as if it had grown there.

How?! When?!

The girl from before took the mirror, and then one of the maidens said, "Your Majesty, would you like to see Her Highness Urselle? Or perhaps, His Highness Rhoder?"

Those foreign names meant nothing to Rahela. Trembling, she asked those girls, "Where is my sister?"

Footsteps. The sound reminded her of something. They were on a floor, weren't they? Rahela glanced down. Yes. A tiled floor. They were indoors. She looked back up.

Surrounded by her own retinue of girls and maidens, there was a wealthy looking woman. She was very tall. Her black hair was in long braids and completely uncovered. One braid was hanging in front and one was behind herself. Her face was sharp and clever. Her eyes were green and sad. She walked over to Rahela and took one of her hands in hers.

"Now now, Royal Mother. Calm yourself and think for a moment. Can you remember what the physician told you?"

As swift and painful as an arrow, it came to Rahela.

"Sometimes, you'll forget. It will be as if you're vaguely living before the accident."

That statue!

Slowly, carefully, as the rich maiden gradually took her in her embrace, the memories came.

Giving birth more than once. A daughter. A son. A few more.

His Majesty's hands all over her at different times of day and night.

So many court meetings.

Sending each child off to be fostered until they were old enough to return.

She even remembered a day when Tarmo Ammas, who was now a noble, once confided the truth behind his connection to the Traveling Tall Maiden. Apparently, he'd done something she'd liked, so she blessed him to never lack in nutrients as long as he ate. He could eat nothing but sugar and leaves and still be as healthy as a man that lived off of all the best food.

The only reason he'd admitted that was because that horrifying maiden was gone, possibly dead.

Rahela wept and wept.

Unjust! Rahela had been so young when it happened! Why had she needed to suffer such memory loss? What cruel god decided this was necessary?! The remainder of her youth, all of her prime, it had all been dragged into daily memory loss.

She remembered a moment when her son, Prince Rhoder, was only five years old and about to be sent away. He'd whined up to her that he was angry. He'd hated that she'd always forget him. It didn't matter to him that she'd remember again soon. What mattered to him was that she'd dare to forget. He hadn't understood the reality of her condition at the time. How could he?!