Red As Blood

Chapter Three

Red as Blood 3

            Sim looked through the window out at the battlefield. It was so unnecessary, all of it. She knew the physics of it, the inherent grace that one needed to stay alive. But it was an ugly thing to her. People trying to kill one another when enough died every day. Bodies falling and the silver glints of swords stained with blood. Knights and foot-soldiers alike fighting with their heart and soul, all rank and decorum lost in the chaos of war. All of them so desperate. She imagined she could almost feel some of them, the euphoria they felt during battle. For some it would be the red haze of fear.

            The queen was probably just as repulsed as she was, but for another reason altogether. She would mourn the wastage of her elixir, be disgusted by how freely they hacked away at each other. So many bodies, the queen would not be hungry for a very long time. Sim shook herself out of the thought. However the men below her died, they died in what they thought was a valiant manner. Being the queen’s meal was the worst kind of death possible. Demeaning, where a person was reduced to nothing but livestock.

            The things that went on in front of her had finally been noticed once she decided that ignorance was a waste of her time. Sim had seen servants disappear suddenly with no one willing to tell her where they had gone. It was all too obvious. The more she found out about the queen, the more she wanted to know. The queen was an ugly creature, devoid of human feeling. But Sim was fascinated by her all the same. Books in the library said she was a creature of myth, something hellish with a heart as black as night. They said she slept in a coffin, which she knew wasn’t true. They said garlic was poison to her, that creatures like her could be killed by a stake through the heart. The only things Sim was sure about were the sunlight and the silver.

            On the sunniest of days the queens wore the thickest black dress she owned, donned a hat and covered her face with lace. Never did she step outside. Her silverware was actually gold. Sim would have thought it to be simply an extravagance, but the queen wasn’t one for material extravagance. She decked the castle out in finery, but kept her own dress relatively simple. And the silver. The discovery was the result of the one daring thing Sim had done in the five years since Nan’s death. She had gone to the confectioner and stolen silver powder, dumping the bottle onto the queen’s head as she walked past. The bottle was just the size of her finger, but she still remembered the way the queen had keeled over onto the ground, gasping for breath. She discovered that when the queen cried, she cried tears of blood. That wasn’t in any of the books.

            The men outside fought with weapons of iron and steel, ignorant that an iron blade, even pierced through the heart would do nothing to the queen. It was the sole reason their castle still stood, the only reason none of their saviors had succeeded. When the forces dwindled she stepped onto the battlefield bereft of armor after ordering her forces to retreat. Always at dusk, she would show up resplendent in the light of the orange and violet sky, as the sun hid behind the horizon.

            Sim saw the aftermath of the carnage she created, and never had the stomach to see the actual process. It was happening again. Sim gripped the windowsill tighter as she caught the first glimpse of the rich blue silk amongst all the dull armor. There was no time for reaction. The men were startled for a second. Then the sounds of crunching bones and interrupted screams filled the air. When the pleas for mercy began, and the sobs, Sim slid down and sat against the wall. Putting her hands to her ears, she tried to block out the horrid sounds. It was fruitless.

            Sim waited until the sounds died down and then looked out. Gruesome as always. But despite all their victories, the attacks kept coming. It was as if the other kingdoms had too many dispensable men. The queen was rarely hungry. People outside were growing more and more desperate. Sim wondered what the others hoped to conquer. Nan had told her that Mirtlemeadow was a land of fertile soil, lush forests, and beautiful lakes. All that was left of paradise was dry land and destitute people. All that was left of the old king and queen was their helpless prisoner of a daughter.