Chapter 13
THE TALE OF THE THREE SISTERS
After the banquet and the dancing, the three sisters lay in their comfortable beds in their adjoining rooms. As the darkness pressed against the castle, leaning heavily on the windows, wrapping the night around them like a curse, each woman lay awake.
Unseen behind the ornate hangings and curtains, each face illuminated by the flickering, heady scented candlelight, the sisters thought of the man who had questioned them.
The Queen knew the man. He was the one who sent her on the path towards cruelty. A life away from all she held dear, leaving her alone and scared in a place of hardships, fear and dread.
The Baroness knew the man. He was the one who had humiliated her, belittling and taunting her throughout their marriage, punishing her for loving another.
As his face hung in her mind’s eye, she wondered why had they revealed the truth of their quest to this man?
Her unease intensified and she resolved, at first light, they must leave the castle. They were not safe here.
The Princess knew the man. He was the one whom she had once loved, but she knew this man to be long dead. If this was the case, the creature who had spoken this evening was a spectre.
Beside her, the candle guttered and, as it did, The Princess was overwhelmed by an unexpected truth.
‘We have lived this before,’ she murmured, yet she did not understand because the castle was unknown to them. They had travelled there for the first time that day.
Or had they?
A pain pierced her heart and confusion filled her soul.
All night, the women were haunted by their thoughts. Finally, moments before dawn, the sisters fell into restless, dreamless slumbers, awaking several hours later, more exhausted than when they had retired the previous evening.
A platoon of liveried servants arrived, carrying a sumptuous breakfast, displaying the finest hospitality from their unknown host.
‘There is fine hunting,’ said the Lord Chamberlain, ‘or, if you prefer, a large tiltyard in which to practise. We have a vast library and by our lake, in our orchard of cherry blossom trees, is a troupe of entertainers composing music. Whatever you desire, we will provide.’
As the Lord Chamberlain finished speaking, the women looked at each other.
‘We must leave…’ began The Baroness, the remnants of her night-time thoughts melting on her tongue because she could no longer remember the reason why and it would be the height of rudeness to dismiss the hospitality offered by the Lord Chamberlain.
‘We must thank…’ began The Queen, but her voice faltered as the rest of her sentence vanished from her mind. To whom should they offer their gratitude?
‘We must find the man from last night,’ said The Princess and, as she spoke, her sisters’ expressions cleared and they stared at her in surprise.
‘Why?’ asked The Queen.
‘I don’t know,’ admitted The Princess, all thoughts and remembrances of the previous day stolen by her brief but heavy slumber, ‘but I think he might hold an answer for us.’
‘The cause of our quest?’ asked The Baroness.
‘Perhaps,’ said The Queen. ‘We must each use our particular skill to discover him and if we have not found him by nightfall, we shall leave.’
‘A plan, at last,’ said The Baroness. ‘I shall visit the stables and the tiltyard. While I am there, I will ensure our horses are ready to depart at any moment.’
‘I shall visit the musicians at the cherry orchard,’ said The Queen. ‘My skill is playing the lute; musicians often hear things the nobility do not, they might know more about the man.’
‘And I shall visit the library,’ said The Princess. ‘Books will always offer an answer, even if it is not the one for which we search.’
With a smile, the Lord Chamberlain clapped his hands to summon servants to help the women dress. They returned to their rooms, re-energised by their tasks.
The Princess sat at the huge oval looking glass and picked up the silver-backed hairbrush, ready to attend to her long dark hair. It was then, she saw them.
Two women, one on either side of her. Behind her left shoulder, the woman wore a headdress of antlers, her face painted with intricate blue patterns, her eyes wide with confusion; behind her right shoulder, the woman’s hair was loose and her dress was fitted, flaring out at her waist, her arms heavy with bracelets and a necklace with a bee pendant around her neck. All three faces were identical.
‘Who are you?’ shouted The Princess, leaping from the chair, turning to face them, but the women had vanished.