Judgment Day (Reines #2 - freewrite)

in #freewrite5 years ago

This is the second part of the story. Read the first part here.

None of the women knew what Judgment Day would hold for them, particularly for the little one who'd grown oh so big in the mere space of a few years. None but the old queen, who although aware it would not happen soon, knew that one day, the moment would come when her reign would be challenged. And when that day came, as it had, her duty would be not to herself, but to her people, to make sure that the woman who would take her place was a just ruler and at least half as clever as her.
'When I took the throne from my husband,' she spoke the words slowly, measuring as she went each of the women in attendance. Some strong, she'd fought beside them for years, watching warily. The others, the younger ones were keener, more anxious for one of theirs to take her place.
And then, there was the young woman herself – Lyra, so scared now before her. She was fighting not to let the queen see her knees shaking and so, she kept shifting on her feet and swallowing down her trembling heart.
The queen looked around the great hall and realized from the slightly puzzled look in their eyes that she'd stopped speaking, that she'd allowed the breath between words to turn into a small eternity. She cleared her throat and tried again.

'When I took the throne from my beloved husband, I wished that the one who would follow in my footsteps would not have to take the same bloody path as I did. Many of you remember, some even thought alongside me when King Harrand, now long gone, tried to seize my dead husband's throne. You all know of the sacrifices that were made, of all the death that paved my way as queen. I am old, but I have not grown deaf. I hear what they whisper about me, what some of you whisper.'
She allowed her gaze to fall on the young challenger, who dared not meet her eye.
'That I came by my throne through blood and murder. You say that like it's a bad thing as if everything we could know on this earth was golden peace. I wish it was so, my daughters, but that is not the way one lives, not in this world. I killed many challengers to keep the kingdom my husband fought so hard to bring together. But that is not why we are here today.'


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A soft murmur erupted somewhere in the very back, among the old women, whose faces she knew well. They were not of her army. They had not fought with her back in the day. They were a few – seven or nine, she didn't remember how many there'd been, who'd arrived to their village only afterwards, when the rest of the kingdoms had understood that the queen was fair and most certainly not to be messed with. She nodded at them, thanking them quietly for their support.
'I am getting old, I know. Perhaps I am no longer fit to rule our kingdom. Young Lyra certainly feels so and I am sure she is not the only one. But before you can take the power, girl, you have to prove yourself. I will not ask you to lead a war. I will not ask that you spill innocent blood. In fact, I will not ask for anything.'

The women around her gasped, but none was more shocked than the young girl herself who stared up with a sort of delighted horror.
The queen ignored them, as she was wont to do, and walked down the cold stone steps that separated her throne from the rest of the room. Head held high, she stood in front of the trembling girl and put her hands on her shoulders.
'I only hope you are ready,' she said, smiling sadly. And with that, the queen took off her crown – small, but beautiful, encrusted with the rarest rubies her husband could find – and placed it on Lyra's raven hair.

Lyra wondered, for the millionth time, how she ever thought this could be sustainable. She'd felt so sure, standing up at that table, that she would make a much better ruler than the old queen. She'd been so strong and self-assured, seeing in her mind already the many beautiful places she could take their kingdom.
But it wasn't quite so. In the three weeks since the queen – the old queen, she told herself once more – stepped down, she'd found that the kingdom had a way of ruling itself and even worse, a way of getting into trouble.
Only that morning, she'd gotten word that King Ruben – old King Harrand's grandson – was riling up the north, quietly marching down to their village, ready to jump on the young queen. He'd be here in two weeks and Lyra didn't know what to do. She looked about her and wondered how they'd ever survived before. They'd prided themselves on being warrior women, but the truth was they hadn't had a war in over twenty years and most of the women now in their prime didn't really know how to fight, never having gone into battle.

They'd played at attacks when they were small, naturally, the old queen had insisted that they be well-prepared, just in case, but that case had never come up. Until now. She would've liked to speak to the old queen, to ask her advice, but she knew she could not. She couldn't beg help from the woman she'd deposed.
She asked around, but all the women about her were young and hadn't known a fight either. But a decision had to be made, and hopefully, it would be the right one. She announced they would resume training – now paused for some five years, since everyone had agreed there was no real need – immediately.
But as she watched, from high above, as her friends and her once-playmates did their best to fight, she realized, with an increasing sense of doom, that they'd lose. So, she told her women to stop fighting and called everyone in the great big throne room that hadn't been used since the old queen had stepped down.
She looked about her and felt her blood go cold and sour in her veins when she saw the old queen sitting on a chair at the back.

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'Our kingdom still has many friends,' she said, but in that moment she felt like the loneliest girl in the world. 'We shall ask our allies to send us armies, to lend us help, with the promise we shall do the same when the time comes. And if that's not enough, we shall hire mercenaries. Our coffers are full, we can well afford it.'
She did her best to put on a smile, but it was only met by grim frowns. Even the women who'd stood beside her only a few weeks ago now shied away and kept their head down.

Queen Lyra sent everyone away and ran back to her rooms, face in her hands, eyes brimming with tears. She felt like she was drowning and the feeling was so very intense she didn't even notice the cold steel against her neck until it was too late. Someone pulled her by the arms, tying a noose around her soft wrists, knife still pressed against her throat.
The faceless assailant shushed her as she tried to scream for help and in that shush, she recognized the impossible. Her old friend, Eziel, the girl she'd played with many times in her childhood, who'd shared laughter and bread with her, now pressed her dagger to her queen's neck.
'Eziel?' Lyra asked, her eyes now dry and horrified.
'I'm sorry,' the girl whispered behind her, 'but I can't let you lead us all to our deaths.'
And Lyra – who didn't feel like a queen at all at that particular moment – started sobbing and begging, pleading with Eziel to spare her life, showering her with useless details such as 'I don't want to die' , but then again, who ever does?
She pushed back, trying to free her hands, but she tried in vain. The noose was tight, the knot certain and not giving way. She was doomed, she would die in this plot and in a way, she felt glad. The past three weeks had been the saddest of her life.

But then, something miraculous seemed to happen and Eziel's grip on her friend's trembling body loosened.
'Let her go,' they heard a voice behind them. 'It's enough, Eziel,' the old queen said, stepping into the room, followed by three of her most trusted ladies.
Eziel dropped the young queen at once, breaking down as she did, because like Lyra, she didn't really know how she'd gotten here either.
'You did this,' Lyra said slowly, staring up at the old queen, who only shook her head, a sad look on her face.
'No, but I knew this would happen. The kingdom felt threatened, you failed your people as queen, so your people turned against you. How could they not? Your plan was foolish and they would've died at the hands of young Ruben. A good ruler knows when to bow her head and ask for advice, but you did not. You held your head high and risked losing it forever, trait I might have appreciated once, but not now. You should've done what was best for your people. You had many elders you could've asked for help and you did not, so the kingdom, in turn, condemned you.'
One of the old women helped Lyra out of the knot and she rubbed at her eyes, sniffing, and trying to ignore all the truth she heard in the old queen's voice.
'You spoke to Ruben,' she cried, 'you told him to invade.'
She watched the queen's jaw drop slightly and her lips turn into a grimace. 'No, and that's where you fail as queen. I would never betray or endanger my people to prove a point. You did. I'm sorry, Lyra, I really hoped you'd be the one. But you failed your Judgment. You are not fit to be queen,' she said, taking her rightful crown off the young woman's pretty head and placing it back on her own, thinning white hair.


The End

I was going to write a post-mortem, as it were. I was going to tell you what happened to Eziel and to Lyra, and to the old queen herself. But then, I thought better and figured I shouldn't. I should let you imagine what you will.

Today's prompt was 'sustainable' and it led to the continuation of the Reines story. Check out @mariannewest, our lovely freewrite leader!

Thank you for reading,

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I like the unexpected turn of events at the end. Long live the queen!

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Hello @honeydue, thank you for sharing this creative work! We just stopped by to say that you've been upvoted by the @creativecrypto magazine. The Creative Crypto is all about art on the blockchain and learning from creatives like you. Looking forward to crossing paths again soon. Steem on!

Hi! Wow Thank you very much! I appreciate it :)

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