Okay next part is up with some information what will happen next………. I’m afraid I will need more than a week to write the next part because it’s a long part and right now I’m not sure about every detail.
She had stopped hours ago to bang and kick against the heavy wooden door and to scream at the guard on the other side to let her out. She had tried every way to get out but she was trapped. The door to Nana’s door was locked like her own and her room lay too high to jump out of the window. She had stormed up and down her room, her hands clenching and unclenching as she searched for a solution. Then suddenly her eyes had fallen on the breakfast table. Her gaze wandered over the red and orange shimmering fruits. They looked like Tasha had polished every single one as the light danced on their surface. The fragrance of sweet pancakes in all possible forms still filled the room. It was exactly like Tasha had left it to get some sugar from the kitchen.
The sheer sight of it made Clare sick. It reminded her of what she could have had if…….. If she hadn’t disappointed Tasha. It stood for everything she couldn’t have and it was the reason that Tasha was……... gone.
With a cry of despair her arms wiped over the table, sending everything on its surface shattering to the ground. But her rage wasn’t gone after the table was empty. It still boiled in her. Feverish her eyes darted through the room in search for a new aim. Something, anything just to get rid of the mixed emotions that fought inside her over the upper hand.
Clare grabbed the table and knocked it down. The next thing was her chest of drawers. She opened every single drawer, grasping their contents to throw them through the whole room. She didn’t care if her best underwear landed in the spoiled milk or on the fat pancakes or if her perfumes ruined the expensive linen. Soon her clothes joined them as she pulled one dress after the other from her wardrobe. She had found her scissors between some apples and a broken perfume bottle. With forceful strokes she drove them through the fabric. She screaming sound of ripping cloth filling the room. Like a mad whirlwind she raged through her room, tearing it apart. Not a single thing was spared.
Once she started she couldn’t stop, nothing was spared. And suddenly only one single furniture stood still untouched in her room. It was the biggest one, the centerpiece of the room. Their bed. She run to it ready to tear the pillows apart with her bare hands but an invisible power stopped her mid-action. There she stood, at the bed end staring at the white and red blankets.
Tasha had made it, smoothing out every trace of the night, before she had prepared breakfast. She couldn’t touch it. Her hand trembled as she reached out to brush over the silken fabric. Her fingers glided over the material without touching it. She couldn’t desecrate it. It was an island in the sea of chaos that flooded her room. And suddenly her rage was gone. Nothing was left inside her as she slumped down next to it crying.
She was too exhausted to carry on. All she could do was to lean against the door, sitting on the cold stone floor of her room. Clare didn’t feel the cold of the stones creeping up into her bones. She was already shivering in shock and not even the cold of the darkest winter could compete against it. Even breathing was barely possible, as an invisible iron chain closed around her chest. Thinking was impossible too. Only one thing came without efforts: the tears that streamed down for hours now, scraping their way into her cheeks forever. Her head, too heavy to hold up, was leaned against the rough wood. She had closed her eyes hours ago when the raw power of her fear and anger had left her body, leaving behind an empty shell. There was nothing worth to be seen. And her mind showed her pictures she didn’t want to see but had to bear.
She blinked and opened her eyes slowly. If she only could crawl into her bed and pull her blanket over her head. Her bed would still smell of their lovemaking and she had nothing to do but close her eyes and fall into a deep sleep from which her lover’s kisses would revive her and she would wake up into a new and better life. But she was too weak to even move an inch. And so she continued to do what she had done the last hour. She pressed her right ear against the door, nearly crawling into the wood in hope to hear something from the other side.
Maybe the guard would talk to a passing maid or ask his relief for new information about the unbelievable story about the princess and her unnatural relationship to a witch that must have gone the rounds by now. Gossip, especially gossip like this traveled faster than the wind. It was impossible that they didn’t talk about it. They had to, it was human nature. They had to do it. She had to know, anything even the slightest bit of what happened to Tasha and how she was, was better than this. Better than this silence. That silence that whispered into her ear about the things Tasha had to suffer because of her. And something else whispered to her. Shame.
She hadn’t been able to protect Tasha like she had sworn to her and to herself. She had failed both of them. How would she ever face her lover again with this failure resting on her shoulders. And then she realized that maybe she wouldn’t see Tasha ever again.
A raw cry escaped her hoarse throat as her mind played through everything that could have happened to Tasha while she sat here unharmed and overwhelmed with self-pity.
“Clare.” The sudden voice of another person in her room startled the princess. Blinking through her tears she looked up at the source of the sorrowful voice to see Nana standing in her room in the middle of the chaos.
Clare looked at her in disbelief, her mouth slightly open but unable to speak. She had to fantasize. But Nana didn’t vanish. Instead she walked over the ruins of the princess’ room. Awkwardly the old woman knelt down next to Clare, ignoring her rebelling old bones that cracked with every movement.
“What have you done?” Nana studied Clare’s face and brushed a loose streak back.
Clare didn’t answer but stared at her nurse. Everything seemed so unreal and maybe it was just a dream.
Nana’s gaze traveled down Clare’s body and suddenly there was a frown on her face. Carefully she took the princess’ right hand into hers and lifted it up into Clare’s view. “You’re hurt.”
Clare looked down and realized that her hand was bleeding from a small gash. She had hurt it in demolishing her room. Although she saw the blood she couldn’t feel the pain that went out from her hand. The physical pain was too small to reach her through all the other pain she was feeling right now.
With a slight shook of her head Nana reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white handkerchief she wound around Clare’s hand.
“Tasha?” was the only word Clare’s troubled mind could form.
Nana’s face darkened as the felt Clare’s inquiring look at her. For a moment she lowered her head before she looked up again.
Clare began to shake violently as Nana’s silence filled the room. “I have to know, please.” She pleaded.
“There isn’t much.” Nana answered evasively.
Clare grabbed Nana’s wrist in despair, she didn’t realize the death-grip she had. “Anything. I can’t…..” She drew in a sharp breath, the sudden rush of energy leaving her body as fast as it had come. Her grip loosened and her hand fell down into her lap.
“They called the priest. He was with your mother for over an hour, than he went back to his church. I’ve heard that he started to gather evidence.” Nana explained. “They even searched your library. But don’t worry, your bags are safe, they won’t find the tunnel.”
“Evidence?” Clare heard her words but they didn’t make sense to her. ‘Evidence’ what for. If they listened to her they would have all the evidence they needed but her mother preferred to believe Phillip.
“For the charge against Tasha.” Nana continued. “They’ll accuse her of witchcraft. The court will be held tomorrow.” Shock washed over Clare’s face at the words.
“No.” She tried to get up, her hands grabbing at the door to pull herself up but her legs wouldn’t obey her, wouldn’t carry her weight and she stumbled back.
“We have to rescue her.” Clare tried again to stand up but fell back onto her knees. Frantically she looked around her room, searching for help and suddenly she realized that the door to Nana’s room was wide open. “Help me.” She ordered Nana and together they stood up shakingly, supporting each other.
But when Nana realized what Clare had in mind she stopped and turned herself to stand between the princess and the open door. She rested her hand on the redhead’s shoulders and stopped her. Clare didn’t look at her but at the door. At the way out of here and to Tasha. “You can’t go out.” Nana’s voice cut through her.
“Why not.” Now Clare looked at her nurse. “Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t go to rescue Tasha.” She spat out.
“Because you can’t save her right now and you will endanger us all.” Nana argued. “You will harm Steven who is at guard outside your door right now and let me slip in. You endanger me, because I came to you. You will make things more complicated for yourself and you will harm Tasha.”
Clare looked at her, like the old woman had slapped her and staggered back. “There isn’t a possibility to reach the dungeon unseen or to reach Tasha’s cell, let alone free her.” Nana reached for the princess. “At the dungeon’s there are at least three guards at any time and they’re well paid and loyal to the king and queen. And the priest just waits for an occasion like this. We have to be careful or everything will turn worse. There’s no chance. Not now. I know it hurts you but everything you can do for Tasha right now is to wait.”
Slowly the reality sank in and Clare saw the truth behind Nana’s words. For a moment she swayed back and forth before her knees gave in and Clare collapsed to the floor again. She rested her hands against the floor to steady herself. She needed all her strength to breath in and out to stay conscious as the world crumbled around her.
’harm Tasha’ the words echoed through her head and she pulled her hands over her ears and closed her eyes to shut it out.
With soft strength hands rested against hers and pulled them down. “Look at me.” Nana asked as she lifted the princess’ face. Nana’s fingers clasped her cheeks and the old wrinkled thumbs wiped away the tears, only to make place for new one.
“It’s my fault.” Clare whispered as the tears traveled down her cheeks.
Nana shook her head vehemently and sat down next to her. “Don’t you ever think this.” She admonished her.
“But………”
“No buts.”
“You don’t know what happened. If we left yesterday nothing would have happened……..” Clare tried to explain but was interrupted again.
“And maybe they would have found you out on your way through the city. We don’t know what would have happened. And Tasha would never accuse you of what happened. The Count attacked her and you did everything to stop him. I’m proud of you.”
Clare looked questioning at her. “Oh, I heard the Count’s version. I think there’s no-one in the castle who hasn’t heard his version. And even though I don’t believe a single word he said he told enough for me to know the truth.” Nana shifted her position and slid closer to take Clare into her arms. Carefully she wrapped her arms around the smaller girl and pulled her away from the door and against her chest. For a single moment Clare closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of her childhood deeply. And like always she felt herself calm down. Her heart was still racing against her chest and her tears still trailed down her cheeks but a soft calm quieted down the worst tremble and allowed her for the first time to form coherent thoughts.
“How is she?” Clare pulled away slightly to get a closer look at Nana’s face.
But Nana shook her head. “They brought her down to the dungeons. I don’t know what happened there.”
“But you have to.” Clare wept. “You know everything that goes on here.”
“Even my powers are limited and they end at the dungeon’s gate.” Nana explained. She was sorry for both of her children but she couldn’t change the situation as much as she wanted to.
“Will they…….. he.. the priest….. does he torture her.” Clare whispered fearful.
“Oh no honey.” Nana pulled her back against herself. “He can’t do anything against her as long as she isn’t convicted of witchcraft. We have to wait and think. We’ll find a way to save you both. She’s safe right now.” She didn’t add that he would torture her after the conviction. But both of them, Nana and Clare knew that a charge for witchcraft was as good as a conviction. There wasn’t any chance that Tasha would be exonerated. The only thing that the court bought her right now was time, precious time. And this time would end tomorrow after the court was held.
tbc..........
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grrrr......%20Tara%20Avatars/cast154.jpg){kind=small}
at: 9/29/02 9:23:50 am
I couldnt stand that 
-Viv-
I really HIGHLY dislike the Queen too! Poor Tasha 
and Clare 
(OOPS-did I just say that?) 
I'm thinkin its gonna be a bumpy road ahead w/ all the court stuff and everything! Lookin 4ward to the next update!! 
at: 10/5/02 12:23:32 pm
FREE TASHA! 
FREE TASHA! 
