It is with the strangest sense of freedom I walk the trails of the jungle island today. The air is not so thick with its usual moisture and is cooler given the recent rain, this brief reprieve from which I have decided to take make full opportunity of, and the sun, which already fights the thin and gently rolling cloud cover is fully tamed by that
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Comments 47
"Come here to me, lady," she said, gently, holding out her hand. Her back straightening, and she was every inch "Elizabeth. Come here to me."
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"I cannot feel my legs enough to stand. Tell me if it still there," I moan, shuddering, wishing it to be gone, for I would rather this some strange spell of my mind than that the actual article and my cousin were truly at hand.
"Tell me if I have not dreamed it."
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"It is there, lady," she said, dropping down onto one knee like a Knight. "You do not dream."
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"Madam, please," he said as he reached her, "tell me what I may do."
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"Tell me it is gone, Horatio. Tell me I did not see it for it is not there!"
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And then there was the small, stomach curdling matter of that head.
Her daughter's, then. Or perhaps her troublesome kin, Mary Stuart. "Madam," Horatio said slowly. "Regrettably, I cannot." He swallowed thickly. "But I will gladly take it elsewhere."
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"I know not what to do with it. I cannot- Oh, God, that I have done such a thing at all but to find this here and have no proper way of putting her to rest-" My voice fails. It is too much. I feel as though all the blood has drained from me and left me cold and hollow.
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He made no mention of it. "Here- can you stand, ma'am?"
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"Forgive me," I say, voice straining against the tightness of my throat, "I am not sure."
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"It cannot be left," I gasp, trying to steel myself, not turning back to look upon the block and its victim.
"God forgive me the signing away of her life, God forgive her her treason, but it... sh... She cannot be left. Is there someone- Might you send someone after us, lieutenant?"
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She'd only been outside to do some sketches, sitting up in a tree to get some inspiration that wasn't from her nightmares. But the direction of the wind soon changed, carrying with it the scent of old metal and wood, and worst still, the scent of blood-the smells of a dungeon. Sonya tried to keep her head in the present, not the past, focusing to keep her breathing steady.
When she found the queen, she slowly walked over, gently placing a hand on the woman's shoulder.
"Queen Elizabeth, can you hear me? Can you stand?" She called, but kept her voice soft. Being a soldier, she'd seen too many men like this, she herself had been in a worse state only after her first month on the island.
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"I can hear and see and smell- all my sense are traitorously in order. Tell me, have I imagined the apparition on the path before me?"
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"You haven't imagined it, I see it too." She replied, her tone militant so as to not betray her feelings."
She took her hand. "Come on, ma'am, you can't stay here." She tried to keep her tone encouraging, as though she were talking to a fellow soldier who just suffered a bad flashback. "There's a place to sit down not far from here, it's up wind too so you don't have to see or smell it." It wasn't exactly proper protocol, but it was what she knew.
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"I could not bear to see it done, when I had ordered it so. It is no surprise I cannot stand to look upon it now."
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She was Queen. If there was a right way of doing things with Queens he had never learned it.
"Do you want me to move it?" Willie finally asked, standing between the two ladies, living and dead.
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"Oh- William- please, do, for I cannot do so myself."
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"Please do not turn around, your Highness," he said, turning his back to her and carefully stripping off his shirt. He closed lady's eyes before he wrapped her gently in the cloth, trying his best not to smudge himself with blood, but not truly caring when he could not. Blood had become a common thing for him. His task complete, Willie stood there, the bundle cradled carefully in his arms. Without his shirt he felt even smaller than ever. All his scars were on display for all the world to see, a faded map of pain and fire. "Is there anything you want me to do with her now?"
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"Set it behind the block, perhaps, so that I might send it to be... retrieved and... and set to rest later. My God, William, I am ashamed to show so little stomach. Forgive me, I should prove stronger."
Not even my subject, but I am desperate to hold his admiration, truly. There have been so few I felt so fervently about, and in this place they all seem so precious- to hold on to, and to know, but chief among them young Mister Dunne.
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