Calan - The Immortality Paradox

Chapter Eleven: The Queen of New Avalon, Part Three

'You put up with them quite well. I'm impressed by your resilience to obstinance. Oakes made you wear that thing, didn't he?'

'Indeed. Convincing...in his own sycophantic way.'

'Forgive him. He has an insecurity beyond any perceivable comprehension. He once argued with a civilian over the quantity of concession they were owed. Despite learning that he had miscalculated the amount in favour of the silk merchant, he maintained his stance for weeks. It took a combination of persuasion from my husband and the Speechmaster to turn him around. We were almost on the verge of dismissal, but the merchant benevolently forgave him.'

Zhě kept up a good pace behind the Queen as she was lead deeper into Camelot and, judging by the amount of stairs, lower, until the only logical conclusion was that they were now underground. Her Majesty had escorted her abruptly from the meeting chamber after adjourning her councilmen. Creditmaster Oakes had attempted to keep them company, but the Queen quickly dismissed his assistance, despite his spirited requests. She quipped that he had been getting a little too close ever since her husband's passing.

'So you were testing me?'

The Queen chuckled. 'You noticed?'

They turned down a corridor which was well lit, and Zhě felt significantly warmer as they carried onwards. 'Very difficult not to when the Queen doesn't even speak amongst her own Legislature.' She was concerned about the remainder of time she had in her mobility chair, she didn't want to have to crawl demeaningly through the castle, or worse be carried by a group of chuckling guardsmen.

'Why do you think it took so long to arrange a simple meeting?'

'I see.'

'They are honest souls, really. Their usefulness stretches to their roles in the citadel, and they are mightily good at their jobs. But, should they ever discover what I'm about to show you, they would realise their ignorance. A couple of them may even die of shock. My father-in-law used to go mad with them, trying his patience with their bureaucratic nonsense about the legality of this and the legality of that. Sagemaster Maxwell has always been chained to regulation. Used to describe him as a dog with only one leg. If they truly understood the magnitude of responsibility that comes with this sovereignty, they would find that their traditional trivialities pale in comparison.'

'So you know more than you are letting on?' They stopped outside a beautifully carved door. The flames from the sconce enhanced the depiction of a crown at eye level. But instead of ending there, the crown spun out into the pattern of a tree - a specific tree that Zhě knew very well. She had seen their species once while visiting Sylfaenydd.

'Much more,' came the cryptic reply. The Queen pushed open the door and they arrived inside a grand quarters, which could only have been Her Majesty's own. The four-poster bed, the crystal chandelier, the painted ceiling and the countless gold-rimmed chests. "Ignore the decor; it's a little too fancy for my taste. Our ancestors were obsessed with the lavish lifestyle. Never really had the chance to reorgainse after my husband died." She drew the thick curtains across the double-sized windows. The night had drawn in quickly. Zhě's assumption had been wrong, they were not underground. She was afraid to say that she had lost her bearings ever since Oakes had led her in through the front gate.

Zhě concurred with Her Majesty. The room was like living inside an antiquarian museum. The painted mural on the ceiling was particularly extravagant, cluttered with a variety of farcical creatures; wild boars, multi-coloured dragons and a large and furry black dog populated the collage. 'That is quite something.'

'Yes.' The Queen agreed sardonically. 'Obsessed with mythological inventions as well. As much as I am loathe to betraying the Calan covets, I would dearly love to debunk the ridiculous tales our ancestors have conjured. Born from the imagination of children, most likely.'