Fiction by Peggy Jo Shumate
Art by Lizzy Marie ShumateThe Family Tree:
A Sharia Tale
Clouds shuffled through the night sky, blotting out the pitiful, faded light from a too distant moon. In the distance, raucous laughter of the Sleepy Maiden tavern could be heard as men and women buried their sorrows in drink and music, trying desperately to forget the troubles of this forsaken land for a while. Sharia stopped and listened for a moment, saddened deep in her heart at the soulless laughter coming to her on a stinging cool breeze. How long since I laughed? she wondered. How long since I even smiled? Her frown deepened, then she emerged from the shadow of the building, slipped a long, slender piece of metal in the door lock, heard the satisfying click as it released. She stepped inside quickly and quietly, unaware that she was not alone.
The door closed with a soft thud and Sharia stood just inside, allowing her eyes to
adjust to the darkness, listening for any sound from within. All was quiet, so she started forward.
She stopped suddenly, her hand dropping to her blade. A small creak from the farthest corner of the room, followed by silence. Sharia sniffed the air. "Show yourself!" she whispered into the darkness. She was answered by silence, but the air was charged with electricity. Outside, the rains came, loud and strong.
"Be gone, thief," said a husky voice from the corner. "Be gone, and trouble me no more."
Sharia crouched, balancing her dagger before her, ready to strike. "Show yourself, or are you a coward as well as a thief yourself!"
To her amazement, Prince Keidros stepped from the shadowy corner into the dim light. He looked at Sharia with piercing eyes. "I'm no thief, woman, but I have to leave now." He held his own dagger in front of him, moving towards the back of the store. "And you, my lady, would do well to forget I was here."
Prince Keidros suspected that his departure from the little bookshop would create a lively sensation in the young lady. The news of the missing pages from the Royal Progeny was like the omitted sacred verses in the Holy Bible. This news had spread through the village like wildfire, and afforded the townsfolk a fresh topic of conversation. The court grounds buzzed with the devastating news of the Kingdom's dissension; the King's untimely and questionable death, the Queen's sudden disappearance, not to mention the dispute between the heirs for the throne. This book: Royal Progeny held contents that the King dared not share with his disgruntled kin. He entrusted the accurate record of lineage with the old bookkeeper, his accountant of many years.
Sheepishly, Prince Keidros tucked the leather-bound book under his long overcoat sure that his pilfering was undetected.
"Very good, milady." he nodded to Sharia, his eyes devoured her upon his leaving.
Sharia fixed her eyes on Prince Keidros, "Go, then. You won't escape unnoticed."
He observed Sharia's gaze of recognition.
Prince Keidros put his hands in his coat pocket, folding his right hand over the edge of the book holding it in place, and with an automatic motion, he opened the door.
"I have sections two and six." Her enticing voice chased him out the door.
He caught his breath, the bulk of it stuck in his chest, and he slinked back into the bookshop.
"Sections of what?" Prince Keidros asked. "Be so good as to humor me, milady. Other portions of what, you say?"
Sharia moved from around the counter and stood in front of Prince Keidros, holding her dagger outward toward him, and in long icy stares she dragged the blade of her dagger down his coat. The material separated, revealing the book that contained the royal secrets. "Now, that's an odd place to find a book, don't you think? Interesting reading material. Wouldn‘t you like to have all the documents?" she replied.
"I am growing bored with you, my fair lady." said the unconvinced Prince.
Sharia looked around the quaint bookshop; though not luxurious the scent of pungent cigars, the oil to light the store and the old books gave the bookstore an air of sumptuousness about it.
She looked at Prince Keidros, her eyebrow raised sharply, and she answered the wearisome Prince, "Wouldn't you like to know?" She had become quite enlightened by Prince Keidros' disclosure, and worried of being herself implicated in his crime, as was his concern to her.
Prince Keidros looked intently upon Sharia, her lonely eyes told many stories that he didn't have time to hear, her lips sent many whispers his ears didn't have time to consume. "We are in quite the quandary, pretty lady," Prince Keidros stood holding his dagger to her chest, twirling it within his fingers. "You become my ally, hand over the other documents, and I won't tell anyone you were here."
Sharia's lips turned upward forming a sly grin. "I tell you what, milord, you become my ally, hand over the book, and I won't disclose to the village that you were here."
The coy look upon her face sent the Prince into a fit of rage and lust all at once. He shook his finger at her, and emphatically instructed that she'd turn her portion of the documents to him or he'd have her head.
Sharia woke to loud hollers. Her hands and ankles were bound with heavy chains and attached by gigantic bolts to a concrete wall of a dungeon."Find out where the documents are hidden and why she had use for them," she heard the Prince demanding. "Oh, and put her in the stretcher if she doesn't speak."
"Very well, sir," a voice replied from behind the closed door.
The door opened, the light from outside shone in the darkened dank room. Sharia's head raised up. The burly man stood in front of her, wadding her crimson stained blonde hair into a ball in his fist, he pulled back on her head. The swelling around her eyes were greenish and bruised, droplets of sweat beaded around her forehead.
"Where's your collaborator?" his gruff voice rumbled the dungeon. "Where's the pages, and what business is the Royal Progeny to you, thief?"
Sharia glimpsed from her half closed swollen eye, his appearance fuzzy. His firm hands yanked her from the chained walls sending her into new waves of pain. Sharia felt her entire body shiver; her heart thumped hard in her head, her gloomy eyes reflected the darkness within the dungeon.
His mouth moved, but the words were silent. Dazed, her pulse raced. She fixed a smile at his remark of calling her a thief; and, in order to be able to see him without being jostled about, she turned her aching body in direct position in front the man, her bloodied lips curled and in perfect calmness she whispered, "You've mistaken me for a thief."
His eyes locked into hers before he yielded to her voice. "Meaning what?" he demanded.
"You claimed I have the pages to the Royal Progeny," she spoke. "Well, there's still a matter of how I have come into possession of these sacred papers. Something Prince Keidros doesn't want the Kingdom of Selinth to know."
"Oh, you scoundrel!" cried the Prince, who could not repress his indignation upon his entrance to the dungeon.
Sharia envisioned the prospect of the Kingdom of Selinth finding out the truth alarming; her birthright not accepted without the proof. The savages within the Kingdom would find any reason to point the finger and post blame; what, the devastating news of the Kingdom's discord; the King's questionable death, the missing Queen, not to mention the dispute between the heirs for the throne, was more than enough to send the townsfolk into dither.
"I beg your pardon," Sharia persisted. "A scoundrel, you call me, Prince. Open the pages to the Royal Progeny and check out the lineage; you may see for yourself."
Sharia's body began to tremble, her legs giving out from under her, she fell forward with weariness.
It was nearly pitch black in the dank underground prison when Magnar arrived. He saw a candle flickering in a nearby cell and there he found Sharia chained to the wall.Obviously, she had been beaten and looked as if she was out cold. He approached her quietly and whispered her name, her eyes fluttered and then opened.
The wind, obstinately beating against the castle, blew streams of cold rain in through the window in monstrous gusts. The frigid droplets stung as they slapped against Sharia's battered flesh.
"Magnar, my love," she repeated to herself as her head drooped to her chest. "Magnar, I knew you'd come." Her white lips stretched into a mournful smile.
"Magnar, I must succeed! But how shall I prevent the Kingdom's upheaval, if those pages should turn out to be our last resort to freedom?" Sharia thought to herself through the blurred visions in her head. She wondered who she was, and what mishmash turn of events had made her this beneficiary.
Magnar put his hand to his head, he exclaimed, "Heh! This is going to be a strange turn of events, my dear woman."
"But of what am I accused?" asked Sharia, impatiently.
"I dunno, but you are 'bout to be informed," he answered as he removed the metal cuffs from her wrists. The footsteps approaching the dungeon were many, but still far off.
Sharia squirmed and inasmuch as she wanted to dart from the castle, she also wanted those missing pages to the Royal Progeny. "Treason against Royalty and against the Kingdom of Selinth, I do believe is going to be the charge. They will have my head for this, yours too for helping me escape, if we are caught."