Chapter 3 . To The Summer Palace.
When Genia decided to leave the great and ancient castle she did so for complicated reasons. She had made the most beautiful of all love with Prince Demetri, her fiancé, partly because they were meant to be wed the very next day and partly because they could not help themselves.
The great hall was being decorated in flowing garlands and falling cascades of yellow and green. The air was full of the beautiful fragrance of herbs, sweet peas and delicate roses. Red and orange nasturtiums looked like flames in their hot colours falling from the ancient tracery of the windows. The most beautiful stonework around the windows had been chiselled by hand hundreds of years ago, light green and soft pink stained glass produced soft tones of light as the very early morning sun played upon the glass.
Down the middle of the great hall stood the ceremonial table. It was made of olde oak, great planks of huge trees had given up their lives to form a giant of a banqueting table. It stood on thick oaken trunks carved by the finest woodsmen. Every carving told a story of the forest with deer and hounds, with caravans of people and lords and ladies who seemed to wander around imaginary woods on the legs of the table. The oaken table told its own story in its own wood.
Centre pieces on the great table containing bouquets rose high above the seated guests to enable them to glimpse each other across the room. These centre pieces were sculptured from white china containing tall gladioli flowers in blooms of yellow and green. Tiny porcelain water bowls of translucent green china were set beside each place. Silver cutlery bore the marks of the best silversmiths in the land, the Craftsmen of the Hill who only made silverware for those they loved and admired, no amount of money could buy their services for that reason. Each piece of china was marked with the special flourishing “P” from the pottery of Lady Penelope herself. These wonderful wedding preparations had been a long time in the making and the wedding day of Genia and Prince Demetri was finally here.
Prince Demetri had left Genia’s bedchamber at midnight and they had both woken up in their own quarters.
What a beautiful day. The castle was bustling with activity. Genia’s mother, Queen Rosemary of Ryne from Gold Strong Hill, came to greet her beautiful, clever daughter with joy and love. Diana, Celeste and Eve were all busying around and giggling. They wanted to look their best so that any visiting nobles would notice them and perhaps they could choose a knight for themselves. The court’s best artists would be present, they would sketch the happy celebrations and then later create delightful paintings to remember the nuptial day.
Towards half past seven in the morning a strange and unexpected sound was heard. All the dogs were barking, horses were being hastily saddled and there was much clattering around and shouting of orders in the stables. The Men-at-Arms took their positions by the mighty gates.
“Stay here,” the Queen ordered fiercely. She left the girls with their ladies in waiting and proceeded to the King’s outer chamber. Men’s raised voices rose above the crisp morning air. King Alchemela and his son Prince Demetri were arguing.
“Father no! Not now! What difference would one day make?”.
“Duty Demetri, duty! We must act with honour here. You know it as well as I do!”
Queen Rosemary’s husband King Mallus was talking slowly and deeply, trying to calm the other two men. They were all pacing backwards and forwards across the large room as men sometimes do.
In the end Prince Demetri bowed to his father and they both left by the private Eastern Passage that led straight to the stables.
Shocked, King Mallus The Fair sat down and called for a large glass of cherry brandy. Queen Rosemary entered to hear the worst of all stories
King Alchemela had a lifelong enemy bordering his lands by the name of Lord Ivy of the Screefell. They were now far from their home lands. King Alechemla, Prince Demetri and his mother Queen Papava had travelled for several days to the wedding. They had brought most of their serving staff and lords and ladies in waiting. They had travelled with beautiful horses from Ara-Ara as gifts for the King and Queen of The Farmlands, their dear friends King Mallus and Queen Rosemary. This wedding was something that both parents had hoped would come about, but of course it would always have been the choice of Genia and Demetri in the end. King Alchemela had left a strong force behind him at his palace but it had not been enough to quell the hordes of knights which Lord Ivy had unexpectedly amassed. They were on the verge of a full battle. Lord Ivy had clearly been preparing this attack for as long as the wedding had been planned and now the peace in the kingdom had been shattered. Strong leadership and a huge show of strength was needed at a time like this and despite the tragedy of postponing the wedding, King Alchemela and Prince Demetri needed to return to their palace and gain control of the battlefield.
The Prince was full of grave and deep feelings. He had already lain with his dear love Genia and yet there was now no wedding.
Who would know how long it would take to quell the uprising? As a fierce knight and brave warrior Demetri was charged with great power and might deep within his breast, he was compelled in every cell of his body to go and fight for his father, the King. He was in no position to refuse the him. It was decided that Queen Papava would remain in the safety of King Mallus’ castle and household.
Prince Demetri’s hand trembled as he wrote a love note to Genia.
“ I am doing my duty by my father and my Kingdom but know this; we have touched each other’s hearts and felt the beauty of our love. I shall return to thee, most wonderful woman. I pray to the stars that this war will be swift and I pledge this; however long, however far, however painful, I dedicate my life to you and I will never cease in my quest to find you again.
All of my love, forever,
Prince D.”
King Mallus and Queen Rosemary silently drank their cherry brandy, they were ashen, in shock and stern as if the mountains themselves were crumbling. They had deep concerns for King Alchemela’s Kingdom and had great sorrow for their child on her wedding day. When they emerged from their chambers they would need to stand tall and proud and not for one moment show weakness in this time of crisis. They ruled by example and one day Genia would be Queen of The Farmlands. Eventually Genia, Eve and Celeste would manage the army and the treasury. All three were intelligent and by their side stood Lilliana, the leading woodnymph, Diana, the archer and Honeybee the wild and majestic sorcerer. All those in Genia’s beloved circle were known for their particular skills and powers; Lilliana’s ability to talk to the trees in the forests and woodland was a useful skill. Her whispered words could be absorbed by the softly quivering leaves of trees; her messages could be heard close by or many hundreds of miles away in distant countryside. Where human folk spoke a variety of languages, Lilliana could speak to the trees and her voice was carried from branch to branch and could be heard by a listening nymph a long way off. This skill was especially useful in order to hear news of battles and skirmishes, of births and deaths and listen to the heart beat of the natural of land.
The King and Queen had decided to send Genia and the other young women to the Summer Palace with the old, wise woman of knowledge and magic. Lady Sage was her name and sage was she. She would look after them while the castle was put back to normal. The wedding flowers would go to the villagers to decorate their cottages. The statues and china would be stored until Demetri returned. The only residual sign of the wedding preparations were the cascading nasturtiums below the stained glass windows of pink and soft green glass.
Genia was broken, beyond broken. She was fatigued and pale and had to be encouraged to eat and drink. She could barely walk.
Travelling to the Summer Palace was usually such a joy but on this occasion it felt like running away. She protested that she did not want to go even further away from her home, the castle.
“What if my Prince should come back?” she protested. “He would not know where to find me. He would think she did not care for him”.
There was no reasoning with her. She would just have to go through these terrible pains of the heart.
Genia could not ride because she was too weak. She was in a blue satin-clad carriage with Celeste by her side holding her hand all the while. Lilliana, Honeybee, Diana and Eve rode their hardy ponies with jingling harnesses surrounding the litter. Genia just stared up at the clouds as she lay in the carriage, joggling along and feeling almost nothing. So great was her despair that she took no pleasure from the beautiful moorland surroundings. The sounds of the tinkling streams that they passed, the fluttering of the weeping ash trees and the trilling birdsong. In reality Genia could hear them but it was as if they were miles and miles away in a fog and had no substance at all. She could not locate herself, it was as if she had disappeared into her own mind. She was lost, everything was lost.
As they wound their way up the side of the Dulce Mountain the air became fresher and the sweet herbs beside the rough road smelled glorious and welcoming. The mixed emotions of the whole band of travellers was uncomfortable. On one hand they always delighted to be at the Summer Palace but on the other hand there was a surreal fear that now lay beneath every breast. No one had felt the chill of war in their hearts before. They did not know how to feel. It was as if the whole world was dying and that all of them must retreat and hide. Every security they had ever known was gone. However normally they tried to speak, their faces betrayed fear underneath. However they tried to think of what was happening, right before them on this very day, it was as if their minds had been split in two, they were really, on a very deep level, thinking of the sorrow and death in their world. War, death, loss, sorrow, they had never experienced this before and could only feel their way. At most they just tried to be brave and honourable and do the right thing every day. Overnight they had suddenly grown up and became serious as if their youth had been stolen from them. They had learned how to be truly sad. For poor Genia and her parents it must have been worse still, for they were in the thick of it. Tragedy was the word that came to their minds. The maidens felt powerless to help Genia, her sorrow was so great. It was as if Genia, the blossoming bride, had turned into a war widow in one stroke. No one knew if Demetri would even return but they knew he would try. Demetri would always long for Genia and her for him. Only the stars in the heavens and time itself could foresee what was to come.
