Bellona (Part 1.5 of The Saskia Trilogy) (5 page)

Chapter Seven

                                                        Mother

I wake to find my mother in my room. She watches me carefully and I find my body frozen under her ice cold gaze. Her being here isn’t good. I don’t dare move or even speak but hold still trying to calm my erratic heartbeat.

Annoyance flickers across her hard face. “Get up, don’t lie there looking so pathetic.” Her words cause my face to flame and I jump from the bed. Her lips are almost invisible with how rigid she holds them. Her eyes hold a warning. “Get dressed, sweet daughter.” There is no sweetness in her words, only hate.

I get dressed quickly, dread pools in my stomach and my hands shake as I close all the buttons on my dress. I have just finished placing a shawl over my shoulders from the chill of the early morning when we leave my chambers. My mother takes me to an abandoned part of the castle and trepidation unfurls deep inside me. This isn’t good, it never is when I am alone with her.  She has never physically hurt me, but her punishment always seems worse than my fathers. We stop at a single door and she glances at me before pushing it open, nothing in her hard eyes gives anything anyway. I step through, hearing the click of the door closing behind me. My confusion spreads as the maid who had flirted with Nierra stands in the middle of the room, wearing the beautiful red dress that I had worn for my birthday. She looks striking in it, her face is powered, her hair in an elaborate up-style, but her eyes tell me so much more; she is terrified, a slight tremble seems to rock through her body. What has my mother done to her? And why is she in my dress?

My mother moves beside me. “Isn’t she something, Bellona? Her beauty takes my breath away.” Her words are intended to hurt me, but I try to see past them. So I don’t answer, but my silence doesn’t stop my mother from continuing her verbal assault on me.

“The guard that spent the night with her says her flesh is tender and to the touch is like that of a new born baby. She has no blemishes, just perfection.” Now my mother moves to the maid who stands frozen. She doesn’t even blink, I wonder if she is breathing. The flickering pulse in the side of her neck and the tremble of her body confirms that she is very much alive. “Isn’t she beautiful?” my mother questions, looking at me directly in the eye now.

“She’s pretty,” I answer and my mother laughs while laying a hand on the maid’s shoulder.

“She thinks you are pretty. Well we shall ignore Bellona as she wasn’t graced with looks, no she is quite plain, sometimes even ugly.” Her words hurt me deeply but I try to keep the pain from my face. I don’t succeed. I can see the pity in the maid’s eyes as she stares directly at me; I look away from her and back to my mother. I don’t want her pity.

“I think you are beautiful,” my mother tells her and kisses her tenderly on the cheek like a mother would do to a daughter she loved. I look away, digging my nails into the palms of my hands.

“Bellona don’t sulk, you look terrible when you sulk.” My mother’s words make me look back at her and I loosen my hands. I don’t want to be here, I want to go back to my chambers, but I force all emotions from my face.

“That’s better,” my mother says, moving away from the maid and back beside me.

“Men are proud and hate showing their weakness to anyone. A weakness to a man is in his arms, not his head and also how he performs behind closed doors.” My face is aflame, but my mother smiles. “So I know Nierra is a virgin and I don’t want him to hate you, with awkward love making… so I have decided that this beauty shall be flesh that he can practice on. Now I can’t imagine him objecting.” My heart pounds and I fight for control. “I have heard from some very reliable sources that they already know each other on an …intimate level. So it won’t be awkward. Don’t you agree, Bellona?”

I swallow the saliva that is pooling in my mouth and stare at the maid with hatred. “No, I don’t,” I answer sharply. My heart rate escalates.

“Really?” My mother’s question is made to sound surprised but she is enjoying this and knows my response already. “What do you suggest, Bellona?”

I look at my mother, and I hate her so much, but I speak. “Send her to the dungeons, she is beneath Nierra.” My words cause my mother to laugh.

“Oh, Bellona, you are so naïve. The servants are not beneath us when it comes to love making, they are the ones that share our beds, not kings or queens, not princess or prince. It is a guard, a maid, who will warm our beds and keep the magic alive between the covers.” I feel disgusted by my mother’s words, I would not share Nierra and I most certainly would not allow a guard or servant to touch me. Once again, I bite my tongue, not voicing how I feel. Whatever will happen here today, my mother has preplanned it and no matter what I say it won’t make a difference. So I remain silent. Waiting.

“Or I could dispose of this maid; she would be forever out of your life. I would grant you this favor, but in return you would do something for me.”

My hope surges. “Or you could kill her and let that be the end of it.” My mind screams at me that this is a trap. One I know I shouldn’t fall into.

“So which is it Bellona?”

The maid cries silently, killing her would be easy, but what price would I pay? I don’t want to owe my mother a favor, I know it would haunt me forever. At least killing the girl would be my decision and I could control how she is killed.

“I will kill her,” I say, and a sob escapes the maid’s lips. I don’t have it in me to do it now, so I will send her to the dungeons and let someone else do it. I am waiting to be dismissed, but my mother stands still, one finger tipping against her lips as if she really has to put a lot of thought into her next words.

“It’s just such a shame, her beauty is no doubt mesmerizing.” My mother’s words end on a smile just as the door opens. A servant walks in, hate burns in his one good eye, the other eye socket no longer working, a jagged scar rips through it and runs down his face. I know how he got that scar. It was done at my hands while whipping a servant for disobeying me, and his name comes to me just as my mother speaks it.

“Ace, please come in and thank you for agreeing to help me, you truly are a loyal servant.” His smile to my mother is filled with glee, but when he turns towards me his smile is cold as his one good eye roams the full length of my body. He was meant to be dead, Marcus had disobeyed me. I could see from the look in Ace’s eye that he knew what I was thinking. 

“Mother,” I protest, feeling sick right now. I haven’t a clue what she is up to.

“Ace told me what you did to him,” she says and her own face is now clouded with anger. “Ace warms my bed and you marked his once beautiful face.”

I take a step back, appalled that she is sleeping with this servant. I wonder, does my father know? Then again I don’t care what either of them do, as long as I am left alone.

“One day, Bellona, when you are Queen and Nierra tires of you, you will do the same as I. And trust me he will tire of you very quickly.”

I shake my head in denial. I love Nierra. My mind races, this room, my mother is making me feel like I am losing my mind. I want to get away from this, from her, from them. I take a step back, but it isn’t my mother who stops me but Ace. His hands dig into my forearm roughly. “Get your hands off me now!” my voice rings out around the room but Ace doesn’t even flinch, and fear consumes me, what has my mother given him permission to do to me?
No, no, no
, my mind grows frantic.

“Bellona, stop it, you are making a fool of yourself.” My mother’s words calm my panic and tears brim my eyes. Her words are truthful, she does think me a fool and for some reason that relaxes me. I am overreacting.

“Now kill the girl,” she demands, as if I have wasted enough of her time. I pause, my body feeling weak and confused. I don’t move and I watch with fear as my mother nods at Ace. I don’t have a second to brace myself as his fist hits my face with a crack that sends me to the ground. Blood gushes through my fingers as I hold my nose. I look at my mother with horror; why would she do this to me? She nods at Ace again. I raise my arm, trying to fend him off, but he kicks hard and fast. Pain that I have felt many times before rocks my body and I wheeze for air. Before he can attack me again, I turn to the maid. She remains standing, but her eyes are closed.  I look for a weapon to kill her with but can’t see any.

“Use your hands.” My mother sounds almost bored, but I can see the excitement in her eyes, tears mixed with blood drip onto the floor.

“I can’t …” I sob, I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. A kick to my spine sends me sailing to the floor. Holding up my arms, I protect my face as best I can from the harsh impact with the hard floor. The pain runs up my arms and I roar into the floor in frustration and anger before standing. My body rears back at me in agony as I stumble to the maid, with hands balled into fists. I’m not a fighter, I wasn’t strong, so how was I supposed to kill her?

“Ace,” my mother says, and he moves towards me with something different in his eyes. I land on the ground, my head bangs and my vision blurs, a weight falls on top of me as Ace climbs on me as if I am nothing more than a whore. He pulls at my dress and I glance at my mother, wondering how far she will let this go, but the air on my exposed chest and the rough hands that now grab my flesh sends me into a frenzy. I scratch his arms like a wild animal; his hand hits me solid across the face and blood from my nose splashes across the marble floor.

“Enough,” my mother commands. “Bellona, if you don’t kill her I am leaving this room and Ace can do as he wishes.” Her words fill me with horror and dread, but something snaps in me and I stand, my dress in shreds. Ace’s eyes tell me he wants to finish what he started. He wants to hurt me as I have hurt him. But no one but Nierra will put their hands on me. I turn to the maid, closing my fists tightly and hit her hard across the face. She cries out in pain and I hit her again and again. Until everything ceases and the only sound is of flesh pounding flesh that fills the room. I don’t stop or pause, my vision is filled with blood, so much blood. When the maid falls to the ground, so do I, and I don’t stop, I continue to pound my fist into her now soft head, I can’t feel my hands.
They don’t belong to me
, I tell myself as they continue to break bones and my blood mixes with hers. The side of her skull that is weakened from her falling to the floor caves under my fist, and I scream into the air, but don’t stop. “I hate you,” I scream, my fist hitting harder, faster. Blood splashes up my arms, onto my chest and I can feel lumps of flesh tear away from her face. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” The pain in my chest grows and the tears come, my fists slow, as my cries grew louder. “I... hate... you …mother…” I sob, lowering my head onto the maids still chest. I curl myself into a tight ball. My bloody hands stroking a lock of the maid’s hair. “I hate you, I hate you,” my words come out as a whisper as I look at Ace and my mother. Ace’s face is wet with tears, shame and guilt are visible there. But I can’t see anything in my mother’s eyes as she turns and leaves the room with Ace on her heels.

Chapter Eight

                                          The Clown

After killing the maid I had taken a bell that had sat around her neck, I don’t know why I took it, maybe it would serve as a reminder of what I had done. It had taken four baths to clean all of the blood from my body; the maids didn’t question me, but the fear was there in every one of their gazes. I didn’t blame them, I was a monster. I hadn’t see Nierra in a few days, my face was healing but my heart wasn’t. The anger that still lay in me was consuming me, and my thoughts made me believe that I was losing my mind slowly. The monster that lived inside me was taking over and I couldn’t do one thing about it. I stare at the bell now, seeing a disfigured face looking back at me. The eyes are too huge, the nose too big, the mouth too stretched. I look away and stare at the bland white ceiling.

I don’t move as Bea enters, pulling the drapes open, then the noise of her cleaning out the fireplace. It grates on me. She is irritating me humming a song. My eyes shoot to her and I can see her pure white spirit. That isn’t fair. As if sensing me, Bea looks up, her doe eyes all wide and she smiles and it makes me want to rip the smile from her face. I don’t smile back and she stands, then moves towards me. I freeze when her hand touches the bell and then she picks it up. “What a pretty trinket, did Nierra get it for you?” She has referred to the whore’s bell as pretty and said Nierra bought it, as if he had no taste, as if such a thing was fit for a princess; she is insinuating that I am no more than a whore, one who deserves a whore’s gift. She’s the whore, not me. Maybe she should wear the bell.

“You should wear it.”

She moves back slightly. “No. But thank you, Princess.”

“It wasn’t a request.” I sit up, puffing my pillows as Bea takes the bell off the table. Her hands tremble slightly as she pulls the chain on over her head, it rings with each movement. She stands still now, unsure, afraid. I smile.

“Is that all, Princess?” Her voice holds a hint of anger and aggravation.

“No, that’s not all. Take off your clothes.”

Her jaw clenches, her eyes shoot around the room; I wonder what she is thinking? What she fears most? What would snuff out her white spark? I smile, knowing the answer is me. “I won’t ask twice.”

She pleads with her eyes as her hand unties her apron, letting it fall to the floor, then her blouse and work skirt. She stands in her undergarments, hesitating, her eyes meeting mine again, pleading with me as they fill with tears. I stare back at her and she removes everything. Standing naked with the bell around her neck, I look her up and down and her face floods with humiliation. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand.

“Stay,” I tell her, as I make my way to my dressing table. I pull out the chair and tell Bea to sit. Once she is seated her hands try to cover her private parts.

“Hands at your side.”

They fall limply to her side, her breathing laboured, her eyes shine with tears and hate. Hate, what an emotion. It’s a hard emotion to hang onto, but these servants are masters at the craft of hating Bellona. I slap the powder brush hard against her face and she squeals. White powder coats her chest, thighs and private parts. I cover her whole face with the white powder just as she had done to me, on the first night I met Nierra. Tears clear a path down her face. After all my work. My hand connects with her face, her own going to her cheek.

“Stop crying. Did I cry as you covered me in powder? Did I cry as you pulled my hair into its painful style? Did I cry as you shoved me into that horrible dress? The answer is no. So stop crying.”

She does and I fix her face before turning her towards the mirror so I can work on her hair. I pull it as hard as I can. Strands come loose in my fingers. I shake them off in disgust.

“Are you sick?” I question.

“No.” I can barely hear her.

“Speak up.”

She swallows. “No, I am not sick, Princess.” I pull her hair, clipping it close to her head but when I yank it, more hair comes away in my hand. She must be sick, maybe she has a disease, maybe it is in her long brown hair.

“You’re lying to me, you’re sick and you’re trying to make me sick too.”

Her eyes widen with fear. “No, Princess, you’re just pulling too hard.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” How dare she? I am finding it hard to breathe. She is sick I don’t want to lose my hair. I take two steps back, her light is so bright. I should kill her, stop this sickness. I grab scissors, holding them lightly in my hand while standing over her. I watch as her tears spill over, destroying my work. Again. She looks so sad, the same sadness I have seen in her before, the night my father had beaten me. She was kind to me that night so I won’t kill her. I will do her a kindness. I chop quickly and her hair falls to the ground. She sobs at every snip of the scissors but I don’t stop, I am saving her. I cut to her scalp, nicking her, I have no choice. When all her hair is gone I smile at her.

“You need to burn your hair. I have done enough. You can thank me later.” I feel light. I have done a good turn. I open my bedroom door and tell the guard to get me two servants; I need to bathe. Bea gathers up all of her hair, clutching it against her bare chest. Blood trickles down her face, dripping on my floor. But once again I don’t complain. The other servants arrive as she kneels at the fire, hunched over, trying to cover her nakedness.

“Burn it.” I can’t understand what she is waiting for. I strip and climb into my warm bath as Bea lights her hair on fire; it is my first time smelling burnt hair. I don’t like it. Bea stays hunched, crying, bleeding everywhere. The other servants keep giving her sympathetic looks. I have saved her, the fools. I can’t look at them.

“Get out,” I roar and they leave quickly. Bea gathers her clothes and stumbles from the room. I sink deeper into the water. A hysterical laugh bubbles up my throat. My hands itch to tear something, my nails dig into my legs, the pain makes me close my eyes and I dig deeper; images of the maid, her bashed in skull, plague me. The water turns pink from the deep cuts I have caused on my legs. Anger has me jumping out and I push the tub over. Water spills all over the floor, pouring towards the door where it runs out under it. Grabbing a gown, I wrap it around myself, flexing my hands open and closed. I am finding it hard to breathe, taking controlled deep breaths I try to calm myself. But something in me rises, causing panic to flicker through me. I dance from one foot to the other, wanting to get away from myself but I am still here. The monster in me is growing so much stronger. I can’t get away.

“No, no, no,” I repeat the words several times, still hopping from foot to foot, trying to make sense of what is happening. My breaths become shallow and I fight for air.

“Bellona.” I hadn’t heard anyone enter, but I turn to find Nierra standing in a pool of water in my chambers. Seeing him makes something release inside me. I cry softly, my hands reaching out to him. “I’m so broken.” I sob and he moves across the room, encircling me in his arms. “She broke me.” My words grow more frantic, and my heart squeezes, as the understanding of how damaged I am fully comes to me. “I’m broken,” I say, again and again. But Nierra just tightens his grip on me, as if I might lose my mind completely if he lets me go. I feel safe and I let it out, all of it. I cry like a child. Nierra doesn’t speak, but he strokes my hair so gently, planting soft kisses on the crown of my head. His kindness makes me cry harder, deeper. I am so damaged, so broken, so vulnerable. So alone. Even being held by someone, someone I love, doesn’t stop the ache inside me. No one knows what goes on inside my head, the things I have done. If Nierra ever found out he would walk away from me.  I try to control the sobs as Nierra releases me but takes my face in his hands, but I can’t look at him. “Bellona, look at me.” And I do at his gentle request, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “You know what’s so beautiful about something that is broken?” he questions, and I shake my head as a sob escapes my lips.

“That we can fix it, and put it back together.” He leans his forehead against mine, and the determination in his eyes slows my tears. “Me and you Bellona will fix this, I swear it now, on this very moment of our existence, I will fix you. I will love you. I will never let you go.” The sobs choke me now and he pulls me into his arms while slowly lowering us both to the ground where he rocks me as if I am an infant, letting me release all the pain, all the anger that is choking me, that is killing me slowly. He erases the pain with love, the want with comfort, and my uncertainty of the future with the promise he has just made me.
He will never let me go.