In Which I Get My Heart Mashed Into A Pulp

The climb damn near finished me off. I could think of not one solitary reason why anybody would need a tower so big. At the top of the blasted ever-stairs there was a small landing with a heavy door, with a sign on it that read: Vena’s Room. Go away.

This was it. The battle for my love was upon me. I don’t know about you, reading this, but to me it felt as though I had really been through the bloody mill, you know? I was filled with the same kind of fateful apprehension one has on the day of starting a new job or moving house (not that I have ever done either of those things), when even though you had known for months that it was coming, you suddenly feel very jittery.

I drew my sword and kissed the blade for luck, then retched as I realised I had not wiped the blood off it from earlier. I adjusted my hair into a fashion somewhat reminiscent of a human being, attempted to mash my nose back into a vaguely pyramidal shape, then I took a single, heaving breath, and raised my boot to kick the door with all my might.

Irritatingly, it didn’t fly off its hinges. It didn’t even splinter. All that happened was I got a hell of a jolt right up my leg and nearly toppled backwards down the stairs. Blast it all, that was my grand entrance neatly bollocksed. With a groan of frustration I grasped the handle, flung open the door and stepped inside the Prince’s bedchambers. And then –

And then there was only Astra. Oh, my darling Astra.

She stood before me in the centre of the grand bedchamber, cradled in the golden embrace of the morning sun. Her hands raised to her mouth, stunned and silent and unhurt. She gazed into my eyes in wonder, and I saw her confused expression soften and drip into the gentle familiarity of affection.

She was every bit as beautiful as I remembered, clad in a simple blue dress that shone like a summer evening. I took no heed of anything else in the room; the furniture melted away into the brickwork, and the sound of the breeze and the birds outside and the faraway din of the rampaging troll all coalesced into a dense ethereal nothingness.

“Athelstan?” she breathed. “Is it really you?”

All this time, I had pictured myself carrying her out of the castle, bathing in her sweet adoration. And yet, at the sound of her voice I could only sigh and crumble. For weeks, you see, though I was filled with extraordinary purpose, in truth my soul had been anxious and lost; she was my anchor, my torchlight, and without her all the wonders of the world washed over me with no consequence. And now, finally, I had found her. I was home.

I dropped my sword as the last of my adrenaline dissipated, and fell to my knees before her. She stepped towards me, and I did not dare look up into her radiance, suddenly ashamed of my weakness in the face of her strength. My ecstasy of relief at her wellbeing, the purity of her gaze and the touch of her hand upon my cheek converged to render me helpless.

Oh, how I had missed that touch. Through droning meetings, through war and peace, rebellion and prosperity and myriad crises, that little soft hand was my wisdom, my safety and my guidance. I clasped it in my own, struggling to my feet so that I could gaze into the gentle eyes I knew so much better than my own.

“Astra…” I whispered. “It is okay. I am here now, thou art safe.”

She held my face in her hands and studied my every feature. I flinched when her gaze ran over the area where my nose probably was, but she made no comment. She looked down at my bloodied armour and my battered body, and finally noticed my throbbing unhand. She gasped in horror.

“Gods, what happened to you? Your hand is gone! Oh, Athelstan!”

She embraced me tightly and I felt one of my last few remaining ribs neatly crack in two, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment, so I hugged her back and tried not to breathe too much in case I punctured a lung.

“A big massive bird bit it off. It’s fine, do not worry. How art thou?”

“Athelstan, you poor thing! When did this happen?”

“It doesn’t hurt. A magical lady healed me.”

“But how did you make it all this way? Did you come alone?”

“No no, Edgar came too, though he’s a worm now, and a stable girl called Glob came along too by accident, but it turns out she’s really rather brilliant, and we met a pirate called Selladore and he wears the most amazing clothes. And we had a friend called Dedmiht for a while but he plunged off a mountainside and I lost my mind in the desert and sand pirates captured us and a bird bit my hand off like I already told you and we sunk the ice town by accident, sort of, and we met a wizard that was a lady and we met a witch that makes nice smells and rides around in a cabbage, and everyone kept prophesying that everything would go awfully wrong and I would die in extreme pain but I proved them all wrong! Here I am, ready to rescue thee and bring thee home!”

I was out of breath at this point and wobbled on my feet a little from all the blood loss and the giddy excitement of reunion. Faint sounds of trolls and guards floated up from the courtyard far below. I was bent over, wheezing gently, and when I had recouped the strength to stand back up and regard Astra once more, I found her crying.

“My love, what is wrong? I am here now, thou art saved.”

I started towards her but she backed away.

“Astra?”

We each took another step; me forward and her back. She frowned and sniffed, wiped her eyes. Her expression softened when her eyes settled upon me, and then fresh tears came. These in turn caused another bout of – anger? Frustration? Fear? I could not fathom what was going through her head.

“Astra, my angel, what is the matter?”

My beautiful wife looked to the heavens as though seeking strength. Eons passed, and finally her gaze fell back to meet my own. She gesticulated, but no words came. She sighed heavily and hung her head, her face now hidden by her hair.

“Athelstan…”

“My love,” I replied, before she could go further, “you need not speak further. I know what it is.”

She looked up at me with red eyes.

“Your wicked captor has you afeared,” I declared. “Where is he?”

“What?”

“I’ll kill him! Wait right here my love. I shall find him and kill him and free you, and we shall make love right here, on the stone floor.”

“Athelstan wa–”

But before she could thank me I had drawn my sword and leapt forth from the room, like a frog, leaping off a diving board, onto a larger diving board, and then down towards destiny. I shrieked and whooped as I descended the stairs, feeling my veins fill with bloodlust.

*****

Fifteen minutes or so later I staggered back to the bedchambers, triumphant and drenched in blood. I clattered into the doorframe on my way inside and rebounded off, lumbering punch-drunk into a chest of drawers.

“Astra, my angel,” I gurgled. “You are free. I have slain the wicked prince.”

Astra looked bewildered.

“No— what? No—“

With that, there was a muffled flushing sound, and from the bathroom strode a tall man with a neat beard and shadowy eyes. A dark purple tunic encased his muscular form, and I really must say, his complexion was quite fantastic. He was reasonably handsome overall, and I found it irritating. He was drying his hands on a towel. We locked eyes and stood still, facing one another.

“Athelstan, who did you kill?” asked Astra.

“Thou art Vena?” I offered, weakly. The tall man nodded. “Ah. In that case, I am awfully sorry, but it seems I have quite recently murdered one or several of thy subordinates. Hello. My name is Athelstan.”

I extended my stump to the prince. With only the slightest hesitation, the prince reached out to shake it. As he grasped my soldered mound of flesh, my remaining hand flew hissing towards him like a crazy snake, and caught him around the throat in a way that could also be described as being very much like the actions of a crazy snake. In reality, a sane snake would probably have acted in a similar manner, but ‘like a mentally healthy snake’ just doesn’t sound as good, does it?

Anyway I was musing on this as I throttled the life out of the startled prince, and I soon felt Astra join the fray.

“Yes, that’s it my love, help your husband crush his windpipe!” I laughed.

However, with Astra’s intervention, I was bewildered to find the tide of the struggle turning against me. Before I knew it I had been whacked in the mouth by a very large fist and found myself lying on my back staring up at the chandelier. Through the fog, the faces of Astra and Vena loomed over me; their voices sounded far away.

“What are you doing? Violence is never the answer. I’ve told you this. You could have killed him,” said Astra.

“I’m sorry, my love. I was trying to protect thee,” said Vena.

“I don’t need protecting. How many times must I tell you?”

“My apologies, my love. It is only because I care for thee.”

“Look, you go down to the courtyard and see if that mess with the troll is cleared up yet. I’ll be fine here.”

The words of Vena and my angel took their time sinking in as I lay sprawled. I heard the door close, and I was alone again with my wife. I struggled to my feet; Astra led me to the bed and sat me down.

“Athelstan… why did you come here?”

“To rescue thee.”

“But Athelstan… I don’t want rescuing. I left. You know this.”

Now, if I may draw you outside of the unfolding narrative for a moment. I would ask your forgiveness if the next few passages are somewhat clumsy in their execution. You see, it’s hard to relay this sequence of my story to you. But, because I trust you, and because we have come this far together, I will tell you the truth.

I began to shake.

“Thou… thou…” Oh, bugger it all. “You left me?”

“Athelstan, you know this. Perhaps you took a knock to the head. I am with Prince Vena now. I asked him to leave you a note when he came for me. I wanted to write it myself, but I was shaking too much to hold a quill. Did you not read it?”

“It said you were stolen away. I thought you were kidnapped. I came to rescue you.”

My eyes fell to the stone floor.

“Oh, that stupid man,” said my wife. “He has such a cruel streak. I told him to explain the situation in as gentle a manner as possible. I had no idea he would write something so provocative. You came all this way. I’m so sorry, Athelstan.”

“You left me in the night? Without even saying goodbye?”

“It was too painful,” she cried. “I thought it might be easier this way.”

“Easier for who?” I groaned. Normally I would have said ‘for whom’ – but I hadn’t the strength.

“Athelstan, we had the most wonderful time together all those years ago. We courted and married and adventured and we loved each other. But tell me one adventure we’ve had in the last four years. Tell me one moment, one memory, anything.”

My body betrayed me; my shoulders drew in, lips moved wordlessly. Nothing made sense. This was all  wrong.

“I thought… I thought it was all fine.”

“I will always have love for you, Athelstan, but I believe we’ve not been in love for some time. This effort to rescue me, valiant though it is, is the first sign of effort I’ve seen you make in many years. Why must it take a kidnapping for you to leap into action? Even now, part of me can’t help but wonder whether you only came all this way for glory’s sake.”

“Glory? Look at me, I’m half dead! Astra, my darling, please hear my words. I know I can be quite… thoughtless at times, but I do love you. I truly do! You can ask my companions, if they’re still alive. You’re all I talk about!”

I was panicking now, my voice high pitched and desperate. This could not be real. I had fallen under Boomlay’s spell and was still in her carriage. I had been knocked unconscious by the soldiers, beaten senseless by the troll.

“Why this prince? What does he have that I don’t?”

“It’s not about having and not having, Athelstan,” said Astra, sadly. “We met at a tournament last year. We have exchanged letters since.” Then, seeing my expression, she added: “It was nothing scandalous. We just talked.”

“You have me to talk to,” I whined.

Oh, Gods above. I dropped my head into my hands; I felt suddenly nauseous.

“Oh Athelstan, how can you not see? You only want me now because you’re afraid of losing me. But even now, with everything at stake, you’re still not listening.”

“I am listening! You can’t tell me whether or not I’m listening.”

Red faced and vexed, horrified, aflame and alone, we stood away from one another. A thousand sentences were forming and melting away on the tip of my tongue; useless platitudes, insults, reparations and pleas, their volume choking me. Astra exhaled with frustration, fighting, infinitely more successfully than myself, to retain her composure. Out of the window I watched a thousand little black birds shoaling over the city.

“Are you really going to throw all we have away?”

Astra smiled in a way I’d never seen before then. It was a sad smile, tender, but resolute. It was the smile you give an old dog before taking it for its last walk.

“This is how it has to be. I’m truly sorry.”

“Please don’t leave me, Astra. I love you.”

She spoke now in a tone that was both blessedly soft and utterly unyielding.

“I’m sorry.”

*****

At the foot of the tower I met my companions, all beaten and bloodied but alive. I suppose they had all survived due to astonishing feats of bravery and athleticism. One of them patted me on the back and said something to me, and I think I replied but I’m not sure what I said. They didn’t understand why I was alone.

My legs carried me through the palace. I was walking but I didn’t know where. I beat on fast, ahead of my companions, and brushed away their enquiries. It was summer and I was shivering.

I pushed through a door, scattered down a cold corridor, pushed through another door, crossed a courtyard and passed over the drawbridge. The others had fallen behind; I suppose they were hurt and confused by my cold demeanour in the hour of apparent victory. I wanted to be alone, and I was grateful to find myself crossing the city unaccompanied.

I didn’t know where I was headed. When I reached the cathedral once more the last of my strength left me, and I sat atop the stone steps and looked out at the immaculate city beyond. Pugglemunt looked haggard compared. I felt homesick. I felt headsick. I missed my mum. As I sat looking out at the gleaming homesteads of Prince Vena’s city, I imagined Astra walking those immaculate streets.

I imagined her holding hands with the prince, those eyes that had once looked into mine with so much love now looking into his, and I felt something vast and formless sink inside me. It was as if someone had taken the plug out from the bath of my soul, and all the water was draining out. I wanted to atomise, to crumble into ashes and scatter on the breeze. There was no point in anything without her.

Oh, just – just give me a minute would you? I don’t want you to look at me while I’m crying.