[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Miaama stared down at the queen from her perch in the lower branches of a cyprus. The queen paced the garden furiously. Her body was rigid, only her eyes moving as she watched Beruthiel striding back and forth over the brick path. Miaama's eyes darted around the garden, in search of the other cats she knew were there. Huine, Morne, and Lome had gone, Beruthiel has sent them to the harbor, down to find out who was expected to gather there for the arrival of the King's nephew.

Lassra lay in the shadow of a dark green shrub, lazily watching as Mosi and Arye scrambled through the bushes chasing the butterflies. Miaama stopped a moment to watch the antics of the young cats, but soon turned her eyes back go Beruthiel. The woman's face was set, a dark look that Miaama was familiar with. A look that had fallen across Beruthiel's features more and more often lately.

Stretching gracefully on the limb where she stood, Miaama dug her claws into the bark of the tree, before jumping down. Shaking herself after the jarring landing, the white cat turned and ducked under a strange bitter smelling plant and stalked off across the garden in search of Yawla and Pirro.

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Beruthiel had gone to the garden in the hot afternoon, and now the sun was fading to evening. She loved the garden, the sounds and smells calmed her. Smells of home, the bitter herbs and sweet flowers that her mother had grown during Beruthiel's childhood.

She paced the brick paths relentlessly today, disregarding the wind that worked her hair loose from the tight pins. Her tears had drained away, or dried in the warm wind, but the bitterness solidified. There must be some way to turn this to her advantage. There must be.

Pausing beneath a dark statue, Beruthiel looked up at it. She had them sent specially, this sculpture and three others, sent specially from home. To bring her good luck, she had thought at the time. The dark face of the kneeling woman looked down at Beruthiel as she stared back at it. This one was to bring health to her family. Beruthiel scowled at the sculpture, focusing in on it, so that the dark shapes of her three companions blurred in the background. The three sculptures representing love, longevity, and fertility melded into a shapeless background to the compassionate stare of the kneeling woman.

Beruthiel's face twisted into a sneer. Her charms had not brought her luck, only something else for the idle and curious to talk about. Love and fertility had failed, and health and longevity were meaningless to her without them. Turning she seized on a drowsy Lassra, snatching her up and pressing her close. After a startled moment the cat sneezed and began to purr gently. Cradling the warm bundle under her chin, Beruthiel sank onto a stone bench and watched the sun disappear behind the garden wall.

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alaklondewen's post

As soon as the floor was finished in the Main Hall, Habeth rushed to the servants’ quarters. Standing in front of the wooden mirror over her small dark dresser, she slowly pulled her now wet black dress over her head trying not to destroy her hair. She tossed her clothes into a bin, and pulled out a similar black hand-made dress from her drawer. Beruthiel would not tolerate her coming back looking like an unmade bed.

Once dressed, Habeth left her room and walked as quickly as she could (without running) to the Queen’s chambers. Raising her fist, she knocked lightly on the door, and then stuck her head inside.

“Madame?” She spoke softly. “Madame. I’m here to make sure you’re ready for dinner.” Habeth was now all the way inside, but the Queen was not in sight. Walking slowly throughout the rooms, she checked every corner and chair. Where could she be? she thought. She’s usually in here at this time…what was on that paper? Whatever it was, Beruthiel had been shaken by it, and Habeth was concerned about her Queen.

After several minutes of consideration, Habeth decided to check the gardens. On occasion Beruthiel would walk in the gardens if something was on her mind. Closing the heavy doors softly behind her, Habeth moved quietly down the long hallway and out a side door that lead to the private grounds.

“Madame…” Her voice sounded weak as she called out. Habeth walked cautiously, since the light was fading and shadows were long, not wanting to trip or step on one of the cats that were always about. “Madame, are you out here?”

“Yes, yes, Habeth…I’m over here.” Sure enough, as Habeth rounded a corner, the Queen was sitting on a stone bench with Lassra on her lap. Beruthiel looked terrible…her hair was a mess and her face was pale.

“Madame, is everything okay? Have you had your dinner yet?” Habeth wanted to hold the Queen and comfort her. That kind of aggressive move, certainly, would be inappropriate of the servant, but her heart was in pain just seeing Beruthiel in this condition.

[ July 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]