Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (12 page)

“Yes, the lion’s head bookcase from
The Charleton’s Quest
. The Queen commissioned it herself.”

As the women reformed the wood of one wall, creating a spacious desk, Albashire turned to Alder. “You realize this is getting a little creepy, right?”

Alder tried to hide his embarrassment. “Yes, my sincerest apologies.”

One of the women spoke to the pixies in their chirping tongue, and they began stacking hardback books next to the desk. Some of the men came in, stocking the desk and setting out a light dinner for him.

“What’s all this?”Albashire asked, pointing to the growing stack of novels.

“These are copies of your books from the Queen’s private collection. You’ll find a quill and ink on the desk there.

He frowned. “Does…does she want me to autograph them?”

“A small inspirational message on the inside cover would also be appreciated,” Alder added with a bow. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my court duties.”

As the wood pinched closed, Albashire looked around. The men and women stood around him, waiting for instructions. The pixies continued to stack books ready for him to sign.

Albashire’s head dropped, and he sighed heavily.

* * *

“Now presenting Lady Holly Cypress, Headmistress of the Wysterian Academy, with her daughters Catwood and Catalpa.”

“My Queen,” they greeted, bowing deeply, their faces full of concern.

“I trust you have had sufficient time to examine the scroll fragments regarding succession to the throne?”

Lady Cypress stepped forward. “Yes, my daughters and I have re-examined every scrap in the archives as you requested, but what we have found has only muddied the waters further.”

The Queen looked on dispassionately. “That is unexpected.”

“I’m afraid your husband knows the old tongue very well. In every instance we could find, the heir to the throne of the forest is always referred to as either ana’iitsu, meaning ‘the heir,’ or in many cases, “tinu.”

With a tap of her staff, the wood on the floor before her reshaped itself into the ancient symbol for all to see. “This is significant, because while “etu” refers to a male, “siita,” refers to a female, and “inu” is a gender neutral pronoun that can refer to either, “tinu” specifically includes both men and women.”

The Queen leaned forward. “I admit I was never as diligent with the studies of the old tongue as I should have been. Could you elaborate for me?”

“Yes, my Queen. To put it simply, if the law used “inu” when talking about the heir, we could simply translate it as ‘that person’ and assume that Milia meant a woman but just happened to say it that way. By using “tinu,” it translates specifically as ‘that person, who may be male or female.’”

The Queen’s eyes widened a bit. “And you are quite sure of this?”

Lady Cypress glanced back at her daughters cautiously. “Yes, my Queen. There is simply no other way to translate it.”

Dahoon and the other men of the court exchanged guarded glances.

The Queen leaned back cautiously in her throne. “I was expecting your analysis to clear up the matter. To be honest, I’m not sure where this leaves us.”

“Nor I, my Queen.”

Realizing the panicked whispers passing among the courtiers, Queen Forsythia raised her hand. “You will all speak of this to no one until a determination has been made. We are in the middle of a war, and the forest needs harmony in order to function. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Queen,” they said in unison.

She dismissed everyone except Alder, silently rebuking herself for not having Lady Cypress give her report in private. But, how could she have anticipated this? There was simply no need for discretion; she had expected the matter to be resolved. Now it was thornier than ever.

As she watched them file out with her hazel eyes, she knew this would not remain secret for long. The rumor mill would turn out a thousand different versions of this story within hours. She knew she needed to act, and act quickly, but she had no idea what to do.

There was only one thing she was sure of. She needed to have a talk with her husband. So, having no other option, she’d do that for now, rather than waste time stewing.

When the doors closed, she turned to him and took a deep, cleansing breath.

“Mister Forsythia, I…”

She caught herself and took another breath. It was becoming harder to be herself, even in private. “Aldi, I feel I owe you an apology. I was certain you were allowing your optimism to cloud your judgment. Now, I realize that I was the one who was compromised. I was so certain that it was impossible for a man to be the heir, I didn’t even consider it.”

Alder bowed respectfully in thanks. “I cannot tell you how much it pleases me to hear that.”

Athel clucked her tongue in offense. “You like being right that much, do you?”

Alder took a moment to cough painfully, then looked at her tenderly. “No, I am pleased that I am fortunate enough to have a Matron who is willing to admit it when she is mistaken. Over the years, I have seen other men sold off to cruel and spiteful women, mean and twisted. Making their men wear nothing but loin cloths and tossing their food into a corner, like they were nothing more than animals. At night, when I was a boy, I would plead to Milia for hours, praying that I would not be sold to a woman like that. Even the household I grew up in was…stern. Madam Bursage would have never admitted to being wrong like you just did…ever.”

Alder lowered his eyes sadly. “She would brutally punish anyone who corrected her, even if he was only trying to look out for her and protect her best interests by doing so.”

Alder’s weak little frame flinched a little, as if remembering the pain. Even though he was fully dressed, Athel felt like she could clearly see the deep scars criss-crossing across his back.

“That I would be fortunate enough to be given to a kind and generous and wonderful woman like you…well…it’s more than I ever hoped for.”

Alder looked deeply into her eyes. It was still a little difficult for him to do, even after all this time. His training still had quite a hold on him. “I love you, Athi.”

Her lip trembling, Athel reached out and embraced him. She hugged him as hard as she could, hoping against hope that she could somehow suck the pain out of him. In that moment, she lamented more deeply than she ever had before that men could not link through the trees. If they could, she could take his pain upon herself. As it was, all she could do was love him, and hope that was enough.

“I’m so sorry Aldi,” she whispered. “I wish I could change the way you were treated. I wish I could make it better.”

“But you can, Athi.”

Athel ran her hands up along his back. Even through the fabric, she could feel his scars. “No, I can’t.”

“Not for me, but for the others.”

Athel furrowed her brow. “How?”

“You are the Queen. Once you announce our son Ash as your heir, it will change the way the women of this island think of their men. It will change the way they treat them. Think about it. There are tens of thousands of young boys whose lives will be improved.”

Athel’s eyes went wide with fear. “I…I can’t do that. There would be an open revolt! The Buckthorns and the Greenbriers would immediately call for my expulsion. And the Bursages…they would call for my head.”

“But, you do not serve them, my Queen. You serve Milia’s law.”

Athel was terrified at the prospect of what he was suggesting. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She knew what he was saying made sense. She knew what he was saying was the law. She knew what he was saying was probably right. But still…

“I can see that this is difficult for you,” Alder sympathized.

“You have no idea…” In her mind, she could see a thousand different ways that this could play out, and all of them seemed to end in disaster.

Alder knelt before her. “May I teach you something?”

“I…suppose…”

“Thank you. I know it is not my place.”

Alder reached over to where Bunni Bubbles sat, coloring on her mini-tablet with some chalk. “Bunni, may I borrow one of your pieces of chalk?”

“No,” she said, pulling the tablet away. “I’m drawing a unicorn.”

“Please,” Alder implored.

Bunni struggled. “Okay, you can have the brown one, I don’t need it.”

“Thank you.”

Alder wiped off a spare tablet and drew a symbol. One long line on one side, three smaller lines on the other, all coming together like a chevron, but with the single line reaching up over the others.

“In the current tongue, this is the Wysterian symbol for people,” Alder explained. “The lines lean up against one another, signifying the way we all rely on one another. But, if you pay attention, they do not lean against each other equally. The larger line leans while the smaller lines support it. That is because, in reality, the Wysterian concept of people consists of two unequal groups, one of which exists solely to support the other.”

Athel considered his words. “I never really thought of it that way.”

Alder wiped the tablet clean. “Now, if you look at the old tongue, you’ll see that the same word, “people” was written like this:”

He drew three sets of symbols in a chevron pattern, each consisting of two parallel lines of equal height, side by side.

“Notice how the lines are paired and equal. I believe this indicates that the ancient concept of “people” was that of a collection of couples. Radically different from our current paradigm. Now, I believe that somewhere in our history, our island experienced a cultural shift that explains this radically different definition.”

Athel raised an eyebrow. “And you’re deducing all of this based on calligraphy?”

Alder straightened his shirt. “A great many things can be learned from calligraphy. The way we express ideas doesn’t simply facilitate communication, it creates the framework of shared concepts that makes communication possible in the first place.”

“Except that written and spoken communication are fundamentally inferior to communicating through the forest itself. Sure they are useful for record keeping or talking to foreigners, but compared to linking spirits, they are slow, imprecise, and bothersome to use.”

“You are correct, of course Athi. I cannot explain why our men are the only beings in Aetria with no magic of their own, or why they cannot link to the trees. Nevertheless, it is my fervent belief that in ancient times the position of Ruler of the Forest was held by a couple. A wife and husband.”

“You mean the Queen of the Forest,” she corrected.

“No, I mean the Ruler of the Forest. ‘Queen of the Forest’ is a modern term. It doesn’t appear anywhere in the scrolls. The scriptures always refer to the Ruler of the Forest.”

Athel was doubtful. “Are you sure about that? Maybe I should have Lady Cypress double check…”

Alder sighed.

Athel held up her hands. “Sorry, you’re right. You wouldn’t say it if you weren’t sure.”

“Thank you. Now, if you give me some time and access to the sealed archives, I believe I can put together a very persuasive presentation that we can show to the Matrons…”

Athel couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She stopped when she noticed how much it hurt him. “I’m sorry Alder, I shouldn’t have laughed. It’s just…well; it’s adorable that you think they can be so easily persuaded.”

This troubled him greatly.

“Could it be that their prejudice runs so deep that they would ignore the law?” he wondered.

“It’s not prejudice, Aldi.”

“What else could you call it?”

“I…I don’t know. But, it’s not prejudice. It’s just the way things are.”

Alder’s face tightened a little. “Forgive me for saying so, my Queen, but it always seems like it’s just the way things are when it is happening to somebody else.”

There was a harsh knock at the door, and the hall opened wide to an enraged Lady Bursage. Like a demon she walked up to the throne, a crumpled scroll in her fist.

“How dare you tell me how to conduct business in my own household!” she yelled, throwing the wad at the Queen’s feet. “Not even your mother had the audacity to command how I treat my own.”

The Queen calmly looked down at the scroll. “But they are not part of your household. The navy personnel stationed here are guests only. They come from different cultures with different traditions.”

“If they are living under my roof, they will obey my rule.”

“That is not their way. What’s more, their rights are guaranteed by the treaty the forest signed with them. The forest must uphold its agreements.”

Madam Bursage threw up her arms. “So, do we simply abandon Milia’s laws the minute they become inconvenient?”

“I’m not sure Milia’s laws address the issue of foreigners living temporarily within our borders.”

“How convenient for you!”

Queen Forsythia serenely placed her hands on her staff. “As I am attempting to do Milia’s will, I find it decidedly inconvenient that the law is not more specific on this point.”

“Bah!”

While Madam Bursage ranted and raved a string of insults, The Queen closed her eyes for a moment and explored the limitless branches of possibilities. The Bursages were powerful, and held almost as much influence with the other Matrons as the Forsythians. Staunch traditionalists, they believed sternly in the class system, that it was the responsibility of the Braihmin class to set an example to the others. Athel searched for a solution that would allow Madam Bursage to save face. If she simply commanded the Bursages, it would plant a seed of discontent in their hearts, and within a decade, they would be rivals. It wasn’t enough to simply resolve the issue in the short term. A Forsythian Queen had to shape the future seasons ahead of time. Finally, she found what she was looking for.

“I believe there is a compromise,” Queen Forsythia suggested. “A way for you to maintain your traditions within your house, while honoring our treaties. We will move around some of our guests, so that only female navy officers reside within your domain. I trust this is acceptable to you?”

“Compromise,” Madam Bursage spat. “If you were really trying to do Milia’s will, you never would have invited those filthy foreigners to come here to begin with.”