THE HAUNTED KINGDOM 2 by Charles E.J. Moulton (amazing books to read .txt) 📖

the clock and the handles who pointed at a quarter to eleven for some reason.
He could not understand who they were or what they wanted. There was something important there. But Alex could not understand what.
“We are all pretending to be kings and queens. We are all pretending to have a country. No one has been seen or heard of since November of last year. They are all gone. And yet, we sit here and pretend that everything is fine …Where is everyone?”

Thursday April 22nd 1428

Alexander knew now what this was amounting to. Everyone suspected it. No one spoke of it. No one dared to. This land was dying. Lucinda was behind it, most probably. Some people knew, some people didn’t believe it. Some didn’t suspect it.
Lucinda wanted him to die and die slowly and alone. And he had no chance to defend himself. He had let the devil in, Nomed, and invited the three plagues by drinking the potion. There was no turning back. A part of him still ran around trying to govern something that wanted no governing. That part screamed. The other had accepted it all and wanted death and death as soon as possible to join his ancestors as supreme loser.
Steven and Belinda never left each other’s side, but they never seemed to speak with each other for real. Alfred seemed to be careless about everything and nobody cared that he was.
The eventless month that had been could only be countered by the utter catastrophe that came next. Ultimately, what happened next was pure tragedy.
The day was quiet except for a stroll about the acres of Iuventus.
In fact, it was the most pleasant day in a long time.
It had been a too quiet and happy sunlight to be able to be real.

Friday April 23rd 1428 - Morning

On that morning a young man rode up to the gate of the palace with a large coach with a big black stallion tied to it. He was a man none of them had seen before and he introduced himself as a messenger from the Hispanic army. His name was Luis Gonzaga and needed to speak to a certain Geena Johnstone. He was lead to the palace and told to wait in the Main Hall.
When the round lady came out to see the dashing young Hispanic, he told her that he had news for her and that she might want to sit down. That this first living being they had seen in over a month had arrived at all was a surprise, but in the manner he arrived was equally surprising.
The man was given wine and short-bread and the seven people sat down by the welcoming room table. When Geena heard that her long lost daughter Maren had returned to Clurafar and was alive and well, that there was an explanation for her disappearance, she understood why sitting had been necessary. Luis claimed that Maren had worked at the Hispanic court for the last fourteen years after she had been kidnapped by a team of a team of Gfuhre nomads. She had suffered from amnesia. Her memory returned just last year and that was why she wanted to come back.
Maren had been very apprehensive about returning to the castle after all that she had been through. She had decided to wait by the memorial statue of Simon right outside the palace gates. The man said that he had been assigned by the Hispanic court to come all the way here to bring the girl.
Maren had been away for fifteen years and Geena had given up ever finding her. It had been a Sunday morning when Maren disappeared. Geena was then a widow and very much capable of raising the child on her own. She had been 14 at the time. She would be a young woman of 29 by now.
Alexander, no matter how much he insisted someone come with, finally understood she needed to see Maren herself. Geena could not wait to come and see her daughter.
She was nervous like no one else had been before her or since. Just an hour later, she was gone.
Soon enough, Alexander got worried and thought it had been wrong to send her off alone. Steven and Theo were sent off to search for the old girl. Alex himself rode out only to return telling Belinda and the rest that nothing had been found. Rolf volunteered to ride out and search and did so. He soon returned distraught, claiming to have seen a ghost. He wanted Steven or someone to see for himself and said he would be waiting by the old oak tree where the carriage was standing.
Belinda followed Steven on her horse. He had said she must stay home with Alex and that there was no need for worry. Alfred needed help. Alex was alone in the castle. The king said he must not stay, but Steven insisted he should. Steven was Prince-General and could not forgive himself if the king died.
Belinda rode out against everyone's will an hour later.
And so while Alfred and Alex sat with one of Alfred's favourite books, Hansel and Gretel, reading the part about the breadcrumbs, Belinda rode off to the inscribed old Love-Oak-Tree to see what all this fuss was about.
What met her eyes was pure carnage. No, the carriage had not left the grounds at all the last week. It stood leaning against the tree, its doors and windows were broken. The black horse and its young coachman were nowhere to be seen. But the four corpses that lay scattered about in front of the wagon was a sight that made the angels cry. She fell off the horse Timothy who skittered away and stopped a few meters back. She tried to stand up again, but fell down, running towards what she saw was Steven all bloody, laying around three meters from the coach. She ran up to him and screamed. His eyes had been plucked out and fresh blood was pouring down from the sockets. His legs were spread and his pants were ripped as was his white shirt. The black vest he had had on was two meters away in shreds. All over his body were scars. Belinda fell upon her knees. Her eyes were wide open very much like Oleana's in the face of her Rumzil ridden death. She clawed with bony fingers on the dirt. She put her fingers in her mouth, making her face all dirty and muddy. She shook Steven desperately, calling out his name and screaming. Tears were streaming down her face.
Belinda ripped at her sander coloured hair and howled a cry.
She took another deep breath and screamed: "NOOOOO !"
Geena's body had been cut up in five pieces and they were scattered all over the place. Marcus, or what was left of him, was thrown over the tree. Rolf was probably the worst. His body had been ripped open and his intestant’s spilling out. Belinda, who had eaten two apples before coming here, turned around and vomited, then wiping the vomit mixed tears off her face with a trembling hand.
She breathed in several times in quick spurts of tears. She swallowed hard. She ran across to Timothy, who ran away from her. Belinda fell down and shouted. "Timmy..." She cried. "Ti- ... Ti- ... TIMMY!"
She stood up. Her cheek was smeared with blood and almost blue with blisters. Tears, vomit, blood and dirt blended and formed a reddish grey mixture that ran down toward the old tree.
"TIMMY!" She ran further but fell down again, hitting her head. Blood ran down her face.
Timmy was gone now. God knows only to where he had gone. He had galloped away from her, perhaps to the waterfall, where he almost rode when he took off on his own.
She stood up, under streaming tears and headed for the castle.
When Belinda ran up the mid path a half hour later, bloody, vomit dropping from her cheeks, dirty and in streaming tears, Alexander ran up to her, Alfred closely behind him.
"Mother!" Alfred screamed, also crying. "Mother what is the matter?"
“Lindy... Good God, Lindy. What has happened?"
"Father... Alfie..." She was on her knees now, sobbing. "It's ho- ... horrible." She sobbed some more, grabbing gravel with her hands and letting it run through her fingers. Alex and Alfie embraced her, crying. "All of them ... They are all mutilated. The coach ... Father ... The coach is destroyed. They are all dead. All of them ..." She screamed now, lifting her head in rage. “Someone has butchered the all.”
“Who?” Alexander wept. “What has happened?”
“Steven, Geena, Marcus, Rolf. Butchered” she cried.
Alfred screamed and Belinda crawled to him and embraced him. “Shhh” she said, comforting. “Mommy’s here, Alfie. Mommy’s here.”
Alexander ran to the stables and came out with Mercutio.
Belinda looked behind her and saw him saddling the horse.
“What are you doing?”
”I am going to see for myself what is there.” He kicked the stallion in the side and screamed. Alexander rode off in full gallop to save what could be saved.
Belinda looked into the distance realizing what was happening.
A half hour later, Belinda still with Alfred in her arms, Alexander returned.
He was solemn, he was crying, he was not saying a word.
Belinda was rocking the child to and fro, humming, small tears rolling down both of their cheeks.
Alexander was pressing his hand against his mouth.
Now there were only three. The only three citizens left in the haunted kingdom.


Monday April 26th 1428

Steven, Geena, Rolf, Philip and Theo had been buried in the garden outside the chapel of the ancestors. Alexander cut down the oak tree and the wagon and everything was burnt.
Belinda spent all her time by Steven’s grave in the sepulchre chapel.
Belinda had not wanted to let go of Steven and had even jumped into the grave.
Alex had to pull her up against her will. She had screamed:
"I want to die, Father. Let me! “
“No, I will not let you die. You are all I have.”
”There is no future. Let me ...”
“Don’t jump into the grave with Steven, he had wanted you to carry on your mission.”
”What darned mission? For whom?” she cried by her husband’s grave. “There is no country left to govern. Fine queen I will be. The queen of a haunted land.”
”Your mission is to live. You have important tasks to accomplish.”
”What tasks?”
”Going on is a task important in sufficiency to conquer oblivion’s regard.”

Now she was sleeping and Alfred was with her, but they did nothing but sleep and Alexander still had Belinda’s words ringing in his ears.
Belinda had lost all her zest, all of her fury, all of her passion.
It had gone after he had convinced her to live on.
She might as well have jumped into Steven’s coffin; she would have been just as dead.