‘Hedges.
More bloody hedges.’ He glanced at the
leaves and clawing twigs as his boots thudded into the hard-packed stony mud.
Outcropping wooden fingers grabbed and hooked at his clothing, like a
non-committal floral mugging.
‘If they keep trying to steal my shirt like this I’ll have to come back with the militia to arrest them as cutpurses. I’ll be sure that we root out the crime.’ He smiled proudly at the princess behind him.
‘This. Is. Not. The. Time.’ She over-punctuated back at him.
‘Oh cheer up. We’ll be out of here soon.’ He lied to her again.
‘Well forgive me, Sir Knight, if I feel that it’s coming a little too late.’ She spat back, venomously enough to put most snakes out of a job.
Sir Jim didn’t reply. He knew that the princess was only speaking out of anger and would calm down eventually, although he did feel partially responsible for their plight – after all, it was he who suggested that they take the path through the Labyrinth of Anguish to get back home. It had seemed like such a good idea to him at the time. The Princess hadn’t thought so, and after so many hours trudging through without sight of the exit she felt the need to remind him. Constantly.
‘We never should have come into this stupid labyrinth. I can’t believe I let you talk me into it. Never again! The next time I go along with one of your plans it’ll be over my dead body.’
The words hung in the air, pressing silence over the pair of them.
‘Well, you don’t have much choi-‘
‘Not another word.’ She cut him off icily. The Princess’ ghost floated behind Sir Jim, wearing the same sour expression she’d sported for hours. Sir Jim got the distinct impression that she was still annoyed at him, as if it was his fault that she’d died.
“My father will be furious when he sees what you’ve let happen to me.”
Her eyes were locked on her corpse as it flopped limply over Sir Jim’s shoulder.
“Please stop bringing that up, it isn’t helping anyone.” He answered. “You’ll only make yourself more upset.”
“I’m dead! It’s pretty difficult to be anything but upset!”
“Of course it is, with that attitude. Put a brave face on it and you’ll be right as rain in no time. Getting out of here won’t hurt, either.”
If looks could kill, there would have been two ghosts wandering the labyrinth.
‘If they keep trying to steal my shirt like this I’ll have to come back with the militia to arrest them as cutpurses. I’ll be sure that we root out the crime.’ He smiled proudly at the princess behind him.
‘This. Is. Not. The. Time.’ She over-punctuated back at him.
‘Oh cheer up. We’ll be out of here soon.’ He lied to her again.
‘Well forgive me, Sir Knight, if I feel that it’s coming a little too late.’ She spat back, venomously enough to put most snakes out of a job.
Sir Jim didn’t reply. He knew that the princess was only speaking out of anger and would calm down eventually, although he did feel partially responsible for their plight – after all, it was he who suggested that they take the path through the Labyrinth of Anguish to get back home. It had seemed like such a good idea to him at the time. The Princess hadn’t thought so, and after so many hours trudging through without sight of the exit she felt the need to remind him. Constantly.
‘We never should have come into this stupid labyrinth. I can’t believe I let you talk me into it. Never again! The next time I go along with one of your plans it’ll be over my dead body.’
The words hung in the air, pressing silence over the pair of them.
‘Well, you don’t have much choi-‘
‘Not another word.’ She cut him off icily. The Princess’ ghost floated behind Sir Jim, wearing the same sour expression she’d sported for hours. Sir Jim got the distinct impression that she was still annoyed at him, as if it was his fault that she’d died.
“My father will be furious when he sees what you’ve let happen to me.”
Her eyes were locked on her corpse as it flopped limply over Sir Jim’s shoulder.
“Please stop bringing that up, it isn’t helping anyone.” He answered. “You’ll only make yourself more upset.”
“I’m dead! It’s pretty difficult to be anything but upset!”
“Of course it is, with that attitude. Put a brave face on it and you’ll be right as rain in no time. Getting out of here won’t hurt, either.”
If looks could kill, there would have been two ghosts wandering the labyrinth.
* * *
Sir Jim
was undertaking a task, nay a quest, of the utmost importance to the
crown. He had been charged with
escorting Princess Natalya, the King’s eldest daughter, back from Castle
Dewlayne to the safety of the King’s Palace in Aridania. There was a war on,
and the King would not rest until the Princess was safely back in his sights.
Sir Jim had been one of many knights forming the escort – twenty good men and
proven warriors had left Castle Dewlayne for Aridania, with the princess
carried in her litter between them.
The journey had been rough for the company from the outset. Between ambushes on the road and unsafe terrain off it, their numbers had dwindled to three knights and the Princess in only a couple of days. Over dinner one night, one of the remaining knights choked to death on a piece of rabbit bone whilst alone on watch, and another followed suit whilst trying to demonstrate what had happened. Then, it was just Sir Jim and Princess Natalya left.
The two companions took the paths-less-travelled in order to evade any enemy forces, and soon enough all that was left between them and Aridania was the Labyrinth of Anguish. Granite walls ten feet high stretched away from a vast arched gateway, topped with hideous gargoyles on either side to ward off bold explorers and lost tourists. Sir Jim wasn’t sure why any sculptor would go out of their way to craft the ugliest being they could, but evidence of it happening was in front of them. Art was about beauty, he’d heard, so it must be a dubious honour to be charged by forces unknown to create a work of terrible hideousness.
‘I’ve heard naught but evil of this place.’ The Princess had warned him as they stood outside the foreboding entryway. ‘Few who enter have managed to escape, and fewer still made that escape at the edge they’d intended to.’
‘I’ll concede that a labyrinth isn’t usually the most direct path somewhere,’ Sir Jim replied. ‘but the road has proven itself to be unwelcoming. Nineteen men have been lost that way already. But I am still here, and I shall safeguard you through this maze, as the bravest and greatest of your father’s knights.’ He puffed his chest out underneath his chainmail. Puffing it over his chainmail would have caused him great injury, after all.
‘The bravest of twenty when nineteen are dead. A great honour indeed.’ Princess Natalya replied. ‘I don’t like it. We should stick to the roads and go around this forsaken place. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.’ The princess warned him tritely. Seeing as she didn’t know any devils personally, the advice was poorly given.
‘I can fell a devil as easily as any man, regardless of our acquaintance.’ The knight boasted flippantly.
‘You’re not listening to me.’ She said, annoyed. ‘There are evils greater than men in these walls.’
‘Like what?’
‘No-one has ever been very specific.’
‘Have you spoken to any of these ‘few’ who made it out, my lady?’ Sir Jim asked.
‘Well, no. But-‘
‘Tales grow taller than trees when watered by many mouths.’ The princess flinched at the imagery of the metaphor. ‘I’ve been to many houses of evil and found nothing to fear.’ Sir Jim told her confidently.
‘I fear that your braggadocio may be the greatest danger of all.’ The princess muttered.
Sir Jim ignored her. ‘Every settlement we have passed by is burned to the ground. The roads are not safe, but no army marches through the labyrinth.’
‘For good reason! But even so, if we enter we will be lost for sure. How do you plan to navigate your way through, or find food and water? Our supplies already dwindle and there’s no way of telling how long it will take to get through.’
Sir Jim looked at her with a sly grin “We’ll be fine, because I’m an a-maze-ing survivalist.”
Princess Natalya stared at him disbelievingly. Taking her silence for acquiescence, Sir Jim pushed the gate open and entered. The princess chased after her escort as he disappeared between the cyclopean walls, and shuddered at her open defiance of the warnings engraved into the stone.
‘Turn away, those of weak heart.’
‘Begone those who fear death.’
‘Those who enter will be lost.’
‘Get the hell off my lawn.’
‘Labyrinth of Ill-Repute. Labyrinth of Well-Deserved
Bad-Reputation. Labyrinth of Anguish.’
‘You’re making a mistake.’
The journey had been rough for the company from the outset. Between ambushes on the road and unsafe terrain off it, their numbers had dwindled to three knights and the Princess in only a couple of days. Over dinner one night, one of the remaining knights choked to death on a piece of rabbit bone whilst alone on watch, and another followed suit whilst trying to demonstrate what had happened. Then, it was just Sir Jim and Princess Natalya left.
The two companions took the paths-less-travelled in order to evade any enemy forces, and soon enough all that was left between them and Aridania was the Labyrinth of Anguish. Granite walls ten feet high stretched away from a vast arched gateway, topped with hideous gargoyles on either side to ward off bold explorers and lost tourists. Sir Jim wasn’t sure why any sculptor would go out of their way to craft the ugliest being they could, but evidence of it happening was in front of them. Art was about beauty, he’d heard, so it must be a dubious honour to be charged by forces unknown to create a work of terrible hideousness.
‘I’ve heard naught but evil of this place.’ The Princess had warned him as they stood outside the foreboding entryway. ‘Few who enter have managed to escape, and fewer still made that escape at the edge they’d intended to.’
‘I’ll concede that a labyrinth isn’t usually the most direct path somewhere,’ Sir Jim replied. ‘but the road has proven itself to be unwelcoming. Nineteen men have been lost that way already. But I am still here, and I shall safeguard you through this maze, as the bravest and greatest of your father’s knights.’ He puffed his chest out underneath his chainmail. Puffing it over his chainmail would have caused him great injury, after all.
‘The bravest of twenty when nineteen are dead. A great honour indeed.’ Princess Natalya replied. ‘I don’t like it. We should stick to the roads and go around this forsaken place. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.’ The princess warned him tritely. Seeing as she didn’t know any devils personally, the advice was poorly given.
‘I can fell a devil as easily as any man, regardless of our acquaintance.’ The knight boasted flippantly.
‘You’re not listening to me.’ She said, annoyed. ‘There are evils greater than men in these walls.’
‘Like what?’
‘No-one has ever been very specific.’
‘Have you spoken to any of these ‘few’ who made it out, my lady?’ Sir Jim asked.
‘Well, no. But-‘
‘Tales grow taller than trees when watered by many mouths.’ The princess flinched at the imagery of the metaphor. ‘I’ve been to many houses of evil and found nothing to fear.’ Sir Jim told her confidently.
‘I fear that your braggadocio may be the greatest danger of all.’ The princess muttered.
Sir Jim ignored her. ‘Every settlement we have passed by is burned to the ground. The roads are not safe, but no army marches through the labyrinth.’
‘For good reason! But even so, if we enter we will be lost for sure. How do you plan to navigate your way through, or find food and water? Our supplies already dwindle and there’s no way of telling how long it will take to get through.’
Sir Jim looked at her with a sly grin “We’ll be fine, because I’m an a-maze-ing survivalist.”
Princess Natalya stared at him disbelievingly. Taking her silence for acquiescence, Sir Jim pushed the gate open and entered. The princess chased after her escort as he disappeared between the cyclopean walls, and shuddered at her open defiance of the warnings engraved into the stone.
‘Turn away, those of weak heart.’
‘Begone those who fear death.’
‘Those who enter will be lost.’
‘Get the hell off my lawn.’
‘
‘You’re making a mistake.’
They
had been in the labyrinth for only a few hours, but they had lost all bearings.
The walls rose so high that the sun could give no indication of the direction
in which they travelled, and whilst two wrongs did not make a right, the dozens
of rights that they had taken could have made anything at all. By this stage,
if someone had told Sir Jim they were heading directly upwards he would have
believed it.
‘Are you still so sure of yourself, Sir Jim?’ the princess asked angrily. ‘I knew I should have never let you lead me in here.’
‘That’s not really true, is it? I mean, at best you guessed that.’ he fired back weakly.
‘A better guess than you’ve made at finding a way out of here.’
‘We are on the way out. It’s a large labyrinth, so of course it takes time. You can’t cross an empire in a day, your highness.’
‘Especially not if you’re doubling back on yourself every few minutes.’
‘We’re taking the exact right path to get out of here, mark my words. And you’ll notice how we’ve not met the enemy’s army at all since we entered.’
‘An attack would be welcome at this stage, at least then we’d know we were approaching an exit.’
‘We are not lost!’ the knight protested.
‘On your honour, Sir Jim?’
‘I… admit I don’t know how long it will be exactly until we get out,’ He answered evasively. ‘but I know where we are.’
‘Hmm.’ The princess gave him the kind of withering look that only member of royalty or librarian can truly muster. A royal librarian would be capable of withering a whole deciduous forest, given a sufficiently vapid comment.
Around the next corner, they were surprised to see the walls give way to hedges for the first time. Sir Jim had taken this as a sign of progress; a change meant they were getting somewhere. The Princess’ view was rather different, namely that the stonemason must have underestimated his supplies.
“Who trims these?” Sir Jim asked all of a sudden.
“What?” the Princess replied, not really answering the question.
“These hedges aren’t overgrown. The path is still clear. You say that this place is ancient and reviled but the hedges are clearly being tended to, which means that there is at least one incredibly brave gardener in this land. A gardener worthy of song and legend! Pray, tell me who this heroic groundsman is.”
“You’re in imbecile.” The princess announced. “No gardeners enter here. No-one enters here.”
“So enlighten me – how do the hedges stay out of the way?”
“…because they’re magical.” The princess said timidly.
“Enchanted hedges! Of course! I should have known.” He bellowed in raucous laughter.
“Your ignorance of magic does not make me wrong!” the Princess chided, frustrated.
“Of course, your majesty. Clearly, the architect of this cursed and evil place was a master of the black magic of topiary.” Sir Jim was struggling to breathe through his cackling. “Take care! Stay back! Lest he curse your gardens to remain pristine!” He doubled over, thrusting his hand into the hedge to steady himself. The princes balled her fists and stamped angrily.
“Magic is not confined to hedges!” She shouted at him. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time in her life she’d had to say that.
“No wonder magic is the talk of myths and legend – the art was forgotten long ago, after the invention of shears!” His thunderous laughter continued, until a long branch from the hedgerow swung out and whipped Sir Jim across the face.
“Ow! Gods, what was-” Another branch came crashing onto the top of his head.
Sir Jim snatched his arm out of the hedge and pushed himself to his feet. By the time he was up, the hedge had ceased to berate him for his disrespect.
“This place is… evil.” He muttered fearfully, eying the surrounding vegetation with apprehension.
“Are you OK, brave Sir Knight, after being bested by a hedge?”
“It was enchanted!” he defended.
“But I thought magic bushes were a trifling matter? A laughing stock? I thought that the magic was funny.”
“Well it’s not! I was wrong, alright? Come on, we need to get out of here.”
“Before you’re beset by daffodils?” She jabbed, secretly glad that he’d come to his senses. She was also rather glad that Sir Jim hadn’t noticed the leaves in his hair.
‘Are you still so sure of yourself, Sir Jim?’ the princess asked angrily. ‘I knew I should have never let you lead me in here.’
‘That’s not really true, is it? I mean, at best you guessed that.’ he fired back weakly.
‘A better guess than you’ve made at finding a way out of here.’
‘We are on the way out. It’s a large labyrinth, so of course it takes time. You can’t cross an empire in a day, your highness.’
‘Especially not if you’re doubling back on yourself every few minutes.’
‘We’re taking the exact right path to get out of here, mark my words. And you’ll notice how we’ve not met the enemy’s army at all since we entered.’
‘An attack would be welcome at this stage, at least then we’d know we were approaching an exit.’
‘We are not lost!’ the knight protested.
‘On your honour, Sir Jim?’
‘I… admit I don’t know how long it will be exactly until we get out,’ He answered evasively. ‘but I know where we are.’
‘Hmm.’ The princess gave him the kind of withering look that only member of royalty or librarian can truly muster. A royal librarian would be capable of withering a whole deciduous forest, given a sufficiently vapid comment.
Around the next corner, they were surprised to see the walls give way to hedges for the first time. Sir Jim had taken this as a sign of progress; a change meant they were getting somewhere. The Princess’ view was rather different, namely that the stonemason must have underestimated his supplies.
“Who trims these?” Sir Jim asked all of a sudden.
“What?” the Princess replied, not really answering the question.
“These hedges aren’t overgrown. The path is still clear. You say that this place is ancient and reviled but the hedges are clearly being tended to, which means that there is at least one incredibly brave gardener in this land. A gardener worthy of song and legend! Pray, tell me who this heroic groundsman is.”
“You’re in imbecile.” The princess announced. “No gardeners enter here. No-one enters here.”
“So enlighten me – how do the hedges stay out of the way?”
“…because they’re magical.” The princess said timidly.
“Enchanted hedges! Of course! I should have known.” He bellowed in raucous laughter.
“Your ignorance of magic does not make me wrong!” the Princess chided, frustrated.
“Of course, your majesty. Clearly, the architect of this cursed and evil place was a master of the black magic of topiary.” Sir Jim was struggling to breathe through his cackling. “Take care! Stay back! Lest he curse your gardens to remain pristine!” He doubled over, thrusting his hand into the hedge to steady himself. The princes balled her fists and stamped angrily.
“Magic is not confined to hedges!” She shouted at him. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time in her life she’d had to say that.
“No wonder magic is the talk of myths and legend – the art was forgotten long ago, after the invention of shears!” His thunderous laughter continued, until a long branch from the hedgerow swung out and whipped Sir Jim across the face.
“Ow! Gods, what was-” Another branch came crashing onto the top of his head.
Sir Jim snatched his arm out of the hedge and pushed himself to his feet. By the time he was up, the hedge had ceased to berate him for his disrespect.
“This place is… evil.” He muttered fearfully, eying the surrounding vegetation with apprehension.
“Are you OK, brave Sir Knight, after being bested by a hedge?”
“It was enchanted!” he defended.
“But I thought magic bushes were a trifling matter? A laughing stock? I thought that the magic was funny.”
“Well it’s not! I was wrong, alright? Come on, we need to get out of here.”
“Before you’re beset by daffodils?” She jabbed, secretly glad that he’d come to his senses. She was also rather glad that Sir Jim hadn’t noticed the leaves in his hair.
After
many more turns, dead-ends, and jibes about privet winning the next great
tourney, the walls loomed ahead once more.
“It will be good to have something solid around us again.”
“Assuming we haven’t just doubled back on ourselves.” The Princess seemed to enjoy raining on Sir Jim’s parade.
“We are not lost!” he told her through gritted teeth.
“We are also not ‘on the way out’ like you told me.” She said with perfectly smooth teeth, lacquered to a fine finish with passive-aggression.
“Mark my words, the exit will be just around this bend.” Sir Jim told Princess Natalya, perhaps exaggerating his grasp of their whereabouts.
The pair of them rounded the corner and saw yet another identical, dark grey passageway.
“That’s it!” the Princess shouted. “I refuse to go another step! We have been marching all day through this forsaken place and all we have managed to do is get lost! We will rest for the night and continue in the morning. I pray for both our sakes that your sense of direction improves with the rising Sun.” Natalya told him.
Sir Jim felt no need to argue. He was exhausted from the journey, and seeing a large number of his peers die over the last few days hadn’t helped the situation. So, he acquiesced with the Princess’ demands set up a rudimentary camp for the night, nestled into the gargantuan walls. Within a few minutes they were both fast asleep. That was when the wolves came.
An unseen and unheard pack had stalked them for hours, masked by the maze of hedgerows and stone corridors. When they noticed the travellers stopping to rest, they made their move.
Sir Jim woke with a start to the sound of claws scrabbling across stone. In a heartbeat he was on his feet, sword in hand. The princess screamed as the beasts closed in on her, teeth and claws rushing lethally in her direction. Sir Jim dashed to her aid, swinging his sword in an upward arc with both hands. The first wolf fell in a spray of blood, but others had closed in.
“Stay behind me!” he shouted to the princess, frantically swinging his blade to intercept snapping jaws. The wolves leapt from side to side in front of him, taunting him into attacking them, drawing his attention to allow others in the pack an opening. Sir Jim backed away, attempting to stay close to the princess, but every time a beast lunged at him he was forced to stop and defend himself.
“HELP ME!” she screamed, eyes wide as she saw the beasts trying to encircle them. She pulled a short knife from her belt and clutched it close to her chest in both hands, as if simply holding the blade would protect her.
“Just stay close!” Sir Jim shouted back. He was doing his best to shield her, but the wolves were too many. Especially when they looped around from the other side.
Sir Jim pushed past the princess and stabbed forwards, taking a wolf in the forehead and causing the others to back away slightly. It wasn’t enough though; a pair of jaws locked around his calf from behind.
“Argh!” the knight grunted, swiping backwards with his sword. Steel made contact with flesh and the grip around his leg slackened off. The princess was still screaming amongst the cacophony of howls and barks from the pack.
“Use that knife and stay close!” he ordered her.
“It will be good to have something solid around us again.”
“Assuming we haven’t just doubled back on ourselves.” The Princess seemed to enjoy raining on Sir Jim’s parade.
“We are not lost!” he told her through gritted teeth.
“We are also not ‘on the way out’ like you told me.” She said with perfectly smooth teeth, lacquered to a fine finish with passive-aggression.
“Mark my words, the exit will be just around this bend.” Sir Jim told Princess Natalya, perhaps exaggerating his grasp of their whereabouts.
The pair of them rounded the corner and saw yet another identical, dark grey passageway.
“That’s it!” the Princess shouted. “I refuse to go another step! We have been marching all day through this forsaken place and all we have managed to do is get lost! We will rest for the night and continue in the morning. I pray for both our sakes that your sense of direction improves with the rising Sun.” Natalya told him.
Sir Jim felt no need to argue. He was exhausted from the journey, and seeing a large number of his peers die over the last few days hadn’t helped the situation. So, he acquiesced with the Princess’ demands set up a rudimentary camp for the night, nestled into the gargantuan walls. Within a few minutes they were both fast asleep. That was when the wolves came.
An unseen and unheard pack had stalked them for hours, masked by the maze of hedgerows and stone corridors. When they noticed the travellers stopping to rest, they made their move.
Sir Jim woke with a start to the sound of claws scrabbling across stone. In a heartbeat he was on his feet, sword in hand. The princess screamed as the beasts closed in on her, teeth and claws rushing lethally in her direction. Sir Jim dashed to her aid, swinging his sword in an upward arc with both hands. The first wolf fell in a spray of blood, but others had closed in.
“Stay behind me!” he shouted to the princess, frantically swinging his blade to intercept snapping jaws. The wolves leapt from side to side in front of him, taunting him into attacking them, drawing his attention to allow others in the pack an opening. Sir Jim backed away, attempting to stay close to the princess, but every time a beast lunged at him he was forced to stop and defend himself.
“HELP ME!” she screamed, eyes wide as she saw the beasts trying to encircle them. She pulled a short knife from her belt and clutched it close to her chest in both hands, as if simply holding the blade would protect her.
“Just stay close!” Sir Jim shouted back. He was doing his best to shield her, but the wolves were too many. Especially when they looped around from the other side.
Sir Jim pushed past the princess and stabbed forwards, taking a wolf in the forehead and causing the others to back away slightly. It wasn’t enough though; a pair of jaws locked around his calf from behind.
“Argh!” the knight grunted, swiping backwards with his sword. Steel made contact with flesh and the grip around his leg slackened off. The princess was still screaming amongst the cacophony of howls and barks from the pack.
“Use that knife and stay close!” he ordered her.
The
fanged assault felt as if it would never abate. Sir Jim was afforded no second
of respite, fighting dozens of foes single-handed, in desperation to protect
the Princess. Still, for every animal that Sir Jim cut down, another was
already in place to take its meal. The more tired he got, the more bites he
took, and the more claws made their way into his flesh. The Princess had even
given up screaming, her throat no longer up to the task. After what felt like
hours of battle, the remainder of the pack slunk away defeated, leaving a pair
of blood-soaked travellers and a pile of carcasses behind.
“I think that’s all of them.” Sir Jim panted, sweat running down his face in a watery monument to exertion, mingling with blood and dirt. The princess didn’t answer. “They must have tracked us in here – there’s no way a pack of that size would be able to live in here.” The Princess made no attempt to argue with Sir Jim’s logic, which piqued his suspicion. “Are you OK, your highness?” he asked.
When Sir Jim turned around to check for himself, he saw that Princess Natalya was very far from OK, principally because her throat was missing; that tends to have exclusively negative effects on a person. The knight stood paralysed as he stared. The princess’ blood had stopped flowing, indicating that she’d been gone for a while. It seemed that Sir Jim had been so carried away with the festivities that he’d failed to notice her demise. Her dress, already muddied and stained from the hardship of their journey, was now saturated with her crimson blood as well, clashing horribly with the pale blue. Sir Jim wasn’t sure which of these circumstances she would have been more annoyed about. Slowly, he dropped to his knees and took her torso in his arms, supporting her limp, pale head in one hand. He examined her wound with petrified care, as if taking in the details could do anything to change what had happened.
“I don’t think a closer look is all that necessary here, do you!?” He heard the princess say behind him, furiously.
Sir Jim dropped her body back to the floor and sharply spun around to face the sound, but saw nothing. He turned to the body again, as he backed away. She had said there was magic here; the hedges were one thing, but hearing the voices of the dead was wholly another. The girl’s corpse lay still and quiet, quite like one would hope, but her voice rang out again.
“Don’t just drop it like that! Show some respect!” she shrieked.
“What are you!?” Sir Jim shouted, looking around again.
“Apparently, not alive anymore, Sir Knight.” She spat back, as she appeared out the wall in front of him. The princess’ ghost floated a foot or so above the floor and looked highly displeased with her new arrangements.
“Princess? You’re… a ghost?” Sir Jim stammered.
“A scholar as well as a knight? I hadn’t realised what good company I was keeping in my last moments.” It seemed that her sarcasm had not died with her. “Of course I’m a ghost; I’m dead! You got me killed with your ridiculous plan to come in here you ox-brained cretin.”
“What a stroke of luck! I’d thought you were lost for sure.” The knight answered, a smile returning to his face.
“I’M DEAD! HOW IN THE HELLS IS THAT LUCKY?!” she wailed back at him, her voice a wind howling through a mausoleum.
“Well you’re only a bit dead - it’s just your body isn’t it. You can still tell your father I did all I could to save you, and he can still spend time with his darling daughter. Sure, your betrothal to the Dewlaynes might be a little more difficult now, but they’ll come to terms with it in the end.”
“Sir Jim, I don’t think you are grasping the full severity of this situation.”
“Oh nonsense. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Princess. Aridania is very progressive. The people will still love you!”
The Princess gawped at him incredulously. “They’ll try to exorcise me!”
“But they’ll fail! And then you’ll laugh, I’ll laugh, they’ll laugh – it’ll bring everyone closer together.”
“Only last year the peasantry burned a woman suspected of witchcraft because some rocks near her door were slightly too round. Somehow, I don’t see them accepting a ghost princess.”
“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of. If they try to burn you they won’t get very far, and they can’t very well drown you. Besides, I’ll be around to protect your body from even the angriest of mobs.”
“But not wolves, apparently.” She said drily.
“That hurts, Princess Natalya. Probably not as much as the wolves hurt you when they made off with your throat, granted, but I still did everything I could.”
She floated silently, refusing to dignify his complaints with a response.
Sir Jim looked around him, at the chaos of gore which had manifested itself from the attack.
“I don’t much fancy resting here anymore. I think we should press on.”
“To what end? I’ve already been killed, you oaf.”
“You are still my charge, living or not, and I will see you home safely.”
Princess Natalya remained silent for a moment. She was livid with him, but had to admit that if she was to be a ghost, she’d rather haunt her own palace than this dingy labyrinth.
“What about... my body?” she asked quietly, her rage somehow damped by facing her own corpse.
“Hmm. You deserve better than to be left here, Princess.” Sir Jim replied. With his muscles already burning from fatigue and the exertion of battle, he hoisted the Princess’ body over his shoulder. “I’ll get all of you to safety, in one piece or not.”
“Such a beautiful dress...” the Princess said mournfully, looking her mutilated corpse flopping humiliatingly over Sir Jim. “It was a gorgeous blue.”
“And now there’s two of it.” Sir Jim said, trying to bring the bright side to the Princess. “Although I suppose that means one of you is going to have to get changed.” He added, because every silver lining needs a cloud.
“I think that’s all of them.” Sir Jim panted, sweat running down his face in a watery monument to exertion, mingling with blood and dirt. The princess didn’t answer. “They must have tracked us in here – there’s no way a pack of that size would be able to live in here.” The Princess made no attempt to argue with Sir Jim’s logic, which piqued his suspicion. “Are you OK, your highness?” he asked.
When Sir Jim turned around to check for himself, he saw that Princess Natalya was very far from OK, principally because her throat was missing; that tends to have exclusively negative effects on a person. The knight stood paralysed as he stared. The princess’ blood had stopped flowing, indicating that she’d been gone for a while. It seemed that Sir Jim had been so carried away with the festivities that he’d failed to notice her demise. Her dress, already muddied and stained from the hardship of their journey, was now saturated with her crimson blood as well, clashing horribly with the pale blue. Sir Jim wasn’t sure which of these circumstances she would have been more annoyed about. Slowly, he dropped to his knees and took her torso in his arms, supporting her limp, pale head in one hand. He examined her wound with petrified care, as if taking in the details could do anything to change what had happened.
“I don’t think a closer look is all that necessary here, do you!?” He heard the princess say behind him, furiously.
Sir Jim dropped her body back to the floor and sharply spun around to face the sound, but saw nothing. He turned to the body again, as he backed away. She had said there was magic here; the hedges were one thing, but hearing the voices of the dead was wholly another. The girl’s corpse lay still and quiet, quite like one would hope, but her voice rang out again.
“Don’t just drop it like that! Show some respect!” she shrieked.
“What are you!?” Sir Jim shouted, looking around again.
“Apparently, not alive anymore, Sir Knight.” She spat back, as she appeared out the wall in front of him. The princess’ ghost floated a foot or so above the floor and looked highly displeased with her new arrangements.
“Princess? You’re… a ghost?” Sir Jim stammered.
“A scholar as well as a knight? I hadn’t realised what good company I was keeping in my last moments.” It seemed that her sarcasm had not died with her. “Of course I’m a ghost; I’m dead! You got me killed with your ridiculous plan to come in here you ox-brained cretin.”
“What a stroke of luck! I’d thought you were lost for sure.” The knight answered, a smile returning to his face.
“I’M DEAD! HOW IN THE HELLS IS THAT LUCKY?!” she wailed back at him, her voice a wind howling through a mausoleum.
“Well you’re only a bit dead - it’s just your body isn’t it. You can still tell your father I did all I could to save you, and he can still spend time with his darling daughter. Sure, your betrothal to the Dewlaynes might be a little more difficult now, but they’ll come to terms with it in the end.”
“Sir Jim, I don’t think you are grasping the full severity of this situation.”
“Oh nonsense. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, Princess. Aridania is very progressive. The people will still love you!”
The Princess gawped at him incredulously. “They’ll try to exorcise me!”
“But they’ll fail! And then you’ll laugh, I’ll laugh, they’ll laugh – it’ll bring everyone closer together.”
“Only last year the peasantry burned a woman suspected of witchcraft because some rocks near her door were slightly too round. Somehow, I don’t see them accepting a ghost princess.”
“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of. If they try to burn you they won’t get very far, and they can’t very well drown you. Besides, I’ll be around to protect your body from even the angriest of mobs.”
“But not wolves, apparently.” She said drily.
“That hurts, Princess Natalya. Probably not as much as the wolves hurt you when they made off with your throat, granted, but I still did everything I could.”
She floated silently, refusing to dignify his complaints with a response.
Sir Jim looked around him, at the chaos of gore which had manifested itself from the attack.
“I don’t much fancy resting here anymore. I think we should press on.”
“To what end? I’ve already been killed, you oaf.”
“You are still my charge, living or not, and I will see you home safely.”
Princess Natalya remained silent for a moment. She was livid with him, but had to admit that if she was to be a ghost, she’d rather haunt her own palace than this dingy labyrinth.
“What about... my body?” she asked quietly, her rage somehow damped by facing her own corpse.
“Hmm. You deserve better than to be left here, Princess.” Sir Jim replied. With his muscles already burning from fatigue and the exertion of battle, he hoisted the Princess’ body over his shoulder. “I’ll get all of you to safety, in one piece or not.”
“Such a beautiful dress...” the Princess said mournfully, looking her mutilated corpse flopping humiliatingly over Sir Jim. “It was a gorgeous blue.”
“And now there’s two of it.” Sir Jim said, trying to bring the bright side to the Princess. “Although I suppose that means one of you is going to have to get changed.” He added, because every silver lining needs a cloud.
* * *
Sir Jim
eyed the hedges suspiciously as he limped pass them with the ghost of Natalya.
He didn’t trust them any longer. Not that the walls were much better - the
hedges at least let a little light through, where the walls cast a thick gloom
over the pathway.
“Who built this place?” he asked the Princess.
“How should I know?” she answered.
“Well you know more about it than I do. It must have been put here for a reason. It’s not like anyone would just decide they have too much time on their hands so they must construct a vast and impenetrable maze for people to die in.”
“It’s the product of a great evil.”
“But why? I can think of deeds which are far more evil than building a maze in the middle of nowhere. If it was just to delay people getting from one side of this valley to the other than it’s more inconvenient than evil.”
“It’s rumoured to be full of despicable beasts, who prey on weary travellers who get lost in here. That’s definitely evil.”
“Hiding them away from people? So that travellers have to navigate a maze to reach them? Seems more like a good deed to me. The architect of the labyrinth seems to have made a prison for monsters.”
“Wha- no. They’re not imprisoned here. They’re here to stop travellers from getting through.”
“Why is that so important? Surely it would have been easier to build a wall in that case. Much easier and you don’t have to spend months trapping monsters to hide away. Or he could have locked the gate.”
“I don’t know, alright? I’m just guessing from what I’ve been taught.”
“Seems to me like there must be something hidden in here. Some treasure or something. You’d make a maze to guard things, not delay people. And filling it with monsters would make it all the more difficult to get through. It sort of backfired in your case, because I guess you can still get to the middle by floating through the walls. Then again, you probably couldn’t take what was there anyway.”
The Princess surged forwards through him to express her distaste. Sir Jim shuddered as she passed through his body, forcing his breath out like the shock of plunging into icy waters.
“Ugh!” he exclaimed, then laughed “That’s the spirit! Use what you’ve got!”
His joviality only irritated the Princess more, so she swept back, this time lingering inside him for a few moments. Sir Jim bent over and leant his hands on his thighs when she finally exited.
“Whoa. That was unpleasant.” He said, chuckling again. “Hey, why don’t you float through a few of these walls and try to find our way?” He added excitedly.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re finding utility in my death.” She snapped sarcastically. “But that is a good idea, in fairness.”
Sir Jim watched as the Princess drifted towards one of the dense hedges and then melted through it. A few moments later, she returned.
“It’s another passage. Exactly like this one.” She didn’t sound terribly impressed with the results.
“I don’t know how much that helps us, truth be told. I suppose you could drift all the way to the edge of the maze, but even then it wouldn’t really help me at all. At least you’re getting the hang of your new body though. Lack of one, I mean.”
“Change the subject.” She told him darkly. Sir Jim laughed again.
“Who built this place?” he asked the Princess.
“How should I know?” she answered.
“Well you know more about it than I do. It must have been put here for a reason. It’s not like anyone would just decide they have too much time on their hands so they must construct a vast and impenetrable maze for people to die in.”
“It’s the product of a great evil.”
“But why? I can think of deeds which are far more evil than building a maze in the middle of nowhere. If it was just to delay people getting from one side of this valley to the other than it’s more inconvenient than evil.”
“It’s rumoured to be full of despicable beasts, who prey on weary travellers who get lost in here. That’s definitely evil.”
“Hiding them away from people? So that travellers have to navigate a maze to reach them? Seems more like a good deed to me. The architect of the labyrinth seems to have made a prison for monsters.”
“Wha- no. They’re not imprisoned here. They’re here to stop travellers from getting through.”
“Why is that so important? Surely it would have been easier to build a wall in that case. Much easier and you don’t have to spend months trapping monsters to hide away. Or he could have locked the gate.”
“I don’t know, alright? I’m just guessing from what I’ve been taught.”
“Seems to me like there must be something hidden in here. Some treasure or something. You’d make a maze to guard things, not delay people. And filling it with monsters would make it all the more difficult to get through. It sort of backfired in your case, because I guess you can still get to the middle by floating through the walls. Then again, you probably couldn’t take what was there anyway.”
The Princess surged forwards through him to express her distaste. Sir Jim shuddered as she passed through his body, forcing his breath out like the shock of plunging into icy waters.
“Ugh!” he exclaimed, then laughed “That’s the spirit! Use what you’ve got!”
His joviality only irritated the Princess more, so she swept back, this time lingering inside him for a few moments. Sir Jim bent over and leant his hands on his thighs when she finally exited.
“Whoa. That was unpleasant.” He said, chuckling again. “Hey, why don’t you float through a few of these walls and try to find our way?” He added excitedly.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re finding utility in my death.” She snapped sarcastically. “But that is a good idea, in fairness.”
Sir Jim watched as the Princess drifted towards one of the dense hedges and then melted through it. A few moments later, she returned.
“It’s another passage. Exactly like this one.” She didn’t sound terribly impressed with the results.
“I don’t know how much that helps us, truth be told. I suppose you could drift all the way to the edge of the maze, but even then it wouldn’t really help me at all. At least you’re getting the hang of your new body though. Lack of one, I mean.”
“Change the subject.” She told him darkly. Sir Jim laughed again.
The
pair continued on their journey past the break of dawn, taking turns through
the maze at random, as the mood took them. Occasionally Sir Jim would get
careless and allow Natalya’s body to bump against a wall, or get hooked on a
stray branch from one of the hedges, and the Princess’ ghost would screech at
him to be careful. For a while he’d pay more attention, but his mind was always
allowed to drift again before long. His muscles burned with the exertion of
carrying a body, having had next to no sleep. The bites and claw-wounds he had
sustained forced him to walk with a limp, but he pressed on.
They hit a few dead ends and a travelled in a lot of circles, but gradually the knight and the ghost progressed deeper into the labyrinth. They didn’t know it, of course – every corridor, every hedge-lined walkway, looked exactly the same as the previous one. There was no real distinction between the inner labyrinth and its outer reaches, nothing to aid the pair in getting their bearings or any sense of whereabouts. For hours upon hours, it was a sea of identical corridors and hedge-lined passageways. Such things are to be expected of a structure designed to get people lost and they both considered the possibility that they were genuinely walking around in circles. Then, like a beacon of hope, they came across a burned-out torch hanging in a sconce on the wall.
Sir Jim rushed over, as much as his limp would allow, and touched the blackened end. This turned out to be a mistake, burning his hand and causing him to snatch it away.
“Well what did you expect? You grabbed the bit which is usually on fire!” Natalya observed correctly. All those years of noticing which end of torches were aflame had finally paid off.
“I was trying to tell if it had been lit recently. Turns out, yes. That means there’s someone else alive in here.” He stared anxiously along the path ahead of them, half-expecting to see someone heading along it, and half-hoping that he wouldn’t.
“Or something. Remember what I said about there being evils greater than men in here.”
“It might just be another lost traveller who needs our help.”
“How could we possibly help anyone? Keeping them company whilst we’re all lost together? Are you going to help them get killed by wolves?”
“We can all search for a way out together. Or maybe they know the way back to where they entered and can help us.”
“I don’t think that’s very likely. If they knew how to get out, why would they bother lighting torches behind themselves? Besides which, if they are from outside the labyrinth then they’d need to have carried a lit torch all the way from the entrance in order to light this one. It doesn’t add up.”
“Unless we’re close to the edge!” Sir Jim exclaimed, excitedly. A quick float through the nearby walls confirmed that they were not, in fact, near the edge.
“Oh well. I still think this is a good sign.” Sir Jim said, resolutely looking on the bright side. “Did you see any other torches on the other side of the walls?”
“No.”
“Well let’s keep going this way, then.” Sir Jim suggested, as if they had much choice in the matter. A few hundred paces along the passageway was another burned out torch, then another and another. They followed the line of torches as best they could, turning back whenever the trail seemed to disappear. Further tentative testing of the ends confirmed that these had also been alight recently. Then came one which required no testing at all – a torch which still burned.
“We’re catching up to them.” Sir Jim told Natalya.
“Obviously.”
There was silence.
With the torches lit it was much easier to follow the trail. For nearly an hour they traced the flames through the labyrinth, winding a serpentine path through the dark granite. Then they saw movement.
“There they are! The torch bearer!” In the distance, silhouetted by the torch in their hand, was a thin figure, walking purposefully away from Sir Jim and Natalya.
“What should we do?” The Princess’ ghost asked, but Sir Jim was already running to catch up with the torch-bearer.
“Hey! Hello! Back here!” He hollered down the passageway.
The figure in the distance appeared to turn around, and then took off at a run.
“Hey! Come back!” Sir Jim shouted, speeding up. Natalya’s body flapped harder against him as he ran, making it incredibly difficult going.
“You’ve scared them!” he heard the ghost say, as she floated behind him. “And be careful with me! You might drop me or break something.”
The figure in the distance moved with a peculiar gait, their clicking footsteps echoing down the passageway as if they were wearing decadent ivory-soled shoes; impractical, uncomfortable and ugly, but definitely decadent. The knight and the ghost maintained their chase through twists and turns, the torches on the walls no longer lit but the beacon in the mysterious stranger’s hand providing all the light they needed.
Sir Jim and Natalya passed through a series of short corridors with many sharp corners, and emerged in a long passageway. Dozens of paths led from each side, and the torch-bearer was out of sight. The light from the torch, however, wasn’t. It sent an orange glow into the otherwise dusky passage and seemed to be shaking.
Sir Jim started to run forwards, but Princess Natalya floated into him until he stopped. Drifting in front of him, she put one finger to her lips. Silently, she floated through the walls and headed towards the stranger’s hiding place.
Natalya’s head poked through the wall, and was presented with a very shaky torch and a sound which was very approximately like ragged breathing. It could only have been an approximation, because there was no breath to go with it. Natalya provided her own breathless sound to join the chorus, by screaming when she saw that the torch was being clutched by a terrified looking skeleton, crouching in the shadow of the wall.
Having a disembodied head scream next to the place where its ear should have been did not allay the skeleton’s fears, so much as cause it to scream back.
The two undead stared at one another, screaming openly, then paused for what would have been breath had either of them been alive and screamed some more. After a short while, they both stopped.
“You’re a skeleton!” Natalya stated accurately, her voice an echo in a crypt.
“You’re a ghost!” the skeleton replied, with a voice like a xylophone.
They both paused again, and then relaxed a little. If they were both afraid then neither had anything to fear. That is, until Sir Jim emerged around the corner with sword in hand. The skeleton resumed its screaming with great aplomb.
“Princess! Be careful!” Sir Jim shouted, raising his sword towards the shrieking skeleton. If he was trying to silence it, then he was doing a terrible job.
“Stop! Stop!” Natalya shouted at him. “It doesn’t mean any harm!” The skeleton nodded frantically.
Sir Jim eyed the skeleton and kept his sword up. The skeleton eye-socketed Sir Jim back, which was the best he could do.
“Sir Jim, you’re scaring him! Er, her? Him?” Natalya looked to the skeleton for guidance.
“Him.” It answered quietly.
“You’re scaring him!”
“But I heard you screaming, so I came to help.”
“Well, he was scaring me. And I scared him too. But it’s fine; no-one actually has anything to worry about.”
“I do, I’m still scared of him.” The skeleton corrected, pointing at Sir Jim with a bony finger.
“Why am I scarier than her?” Sir Jim asked, sounding a little offended. “She’s a ghost! I’m just a man.”
“A man waving a sword around and carrying a bloodstained corpse over his shoulder.” Natalya pointed out. The skeleton nodded.
“Well, yes I suppose so. But it’s her corpse, I’m only looking after it because the Princess can’t carry it herself.” He lowered his sword, and the skeleton seemed to relax.
“Don’t you usually wear a body, rather than carrying it?” the skeleton asked.
“Given the choice, I still would be.”
“Hmm. So, what’s a Princess doing in the Labyrinth of Anguish?”
“Dying, mostly.” Natalya answered humourlessly.
“Oh come on, you spent a tiny amount of time actually dying. You’ve spent most of it dead.” Sir Jim complained. “When are you going to let go of it?”
“And otherwise, getting lost.” Natalya said, ignoring Sir Jim and addressing the skeleton.
“Lost? Well, I’ll take you to where I live, to the centre, if you’d like.” The skeleton offered, excitedly.
“Why? So you can lure us into a trap and eat us?” Sir Jim accused, on guard again.
“No! No, I- I’m just trying to help.”
“Leave him alone Sir Jim.”
“He’s a skeleton! When have you ever heard of a reanimated skeleton helping people? They’re summoned by necromancers to kill people.” He raised his sword once more and pointed it towards the skeleton’s head.
“I’m nice! I don’t want to kill anyone! Please don’t hurt me!” he fell backwards onto his pelvis, then scurried backwards on his hands.
“Jim! I said stop! That’s an order!” Princess Natalya shouted, her voice a deathly wail.
The knight stood still, maintaining a frown but lowering the sword again.
“Put it away before someone gets hurt.” The Princess told him. Reluctantly, he sheathed his weapon.
“Thank you! Thank you, you are kind and wonderful!” the skeleton told Princess Natalya, his jaw clattering with desperation and relief. “I promise, I’ve never killed anyone. And I don’t really eat at all anymore, especially not people. But… but you can. Eat, I mean. There’s food and drink where I live, and a bed so you can get some rest. And then you can continue on your way, if that’s what you want. I can guide you to the exit as well, if that’s where you’re trying to get to.”
“Where else would we be trying to get to?” the knight asked with narrowed eyes.
“I don’t know – somewhere else? There are lots of places other than the exit. Maybe you’re trying to see all the walls of the maze, or visit the enchanted hedges. Maybe you seek monsters to slay. Maybe you just like long walks but hate long views, or wanted to take your corpse exploring. It takes all sorts.”
“Why would we be taking a corpse to explore a maze?”
“So that it doesn’t get lonely without its ghost.”
Sir Jim shrugged, unable to fault the skeleton’s logic. “Well, regardless, the devil can take those enchanted hedges and keep them. I don’t trust anyone who thinks they’re a good place to be.”
The skeleton began to shake, fearing another threat of violence from the bloody knight.
“Well I do.” Natalya told him firmly. She turned to the skeleton. “Please lead the way.”
They continued through the maze as a company of three; the skeleton clicking and clattering along, the ghost floating gracefully, and the knight trudging with a corpse over his shoulder. Sir Jim’s quest had certainly taken a turn for the unorthodox.
“So, erm, what are your names?” the skeleton asked timidly, trying to make conversation.
“I’m Princess Natalya, and this is my escort, Sir Jim. What may we call you?”
“Oh, erm, you can call me anything you like, honestly. Whatever pleases you.”
“But what is your name?”
“Oh, my name? I haven’t used that in years. It’s, erm, it’s Peter.”
“Very nice to make your acquaintance, Peter.” Said Princess Natalya, remembering her regal manners.
As they passed unlit sconces on the wall, Peter would raise his torch to them, setting them ablaze and casting an orange glow over the hallway. Princess Natalya found it comforting not to be in the dark any longer. Sir Jim though it was nice to have a way of definitively tracking where they had already been, confident that he could follow the trial of torches if Peter should betray them.
Peter led the ghost and the knight purposefully through the labyrinth. Occasionally he would stop at a cross-roads and tap one bony foot against the floor, remembering which path led towards home, and then set off again with vigour. Every few seconds he would check behind himself to make sure that his new companions were following. Although he had no way of showing it, whenever he saw that he wasn’t alone, Peter smiled.
As they walked through the seemingly never-ending succession of turns and crossroads, Peter did what he could to keep his new companions talking to him, enjoying the sounds of conversation after so many years. He could feel that Sir Jim was still harbouring distrust, and whenever Peter asked about the knight he received a tale of outstanding bravery, intended to make Peter fear him. It was fairly redundant, because Peter was already feared him, but the skeleton didn’t say anything about it.
Princess Natalya was kinder to him, but also seemed angry at Sir Jim. To Peter’s mind (or to the space where his mind used to be) she wasn’t that badly off. She still looked like herself and could think like herself – it was just that she didn’t have all the flesh she used to. Flesh was overrated anyway. He hoped that she would take to being a ghost soon – in his opinion, it rather suited her. Much more than that throat-less, bloody-dressed thing hanging over Sir Jim’s shoulder.
Regardless of how much they might bicker, or how often Sir Jim held his hand threateningly close to his sword, Peter was happy to have the company. It didn’t matter that they weren’t perfect. It didn’t even matter that they might be gone soon. The fact was that then and there, he didn’t have to be lonely.
They hit a few dead ends and a travelled in a lot of circles, but gradually the knight and the ghost progressed deeper into the labyrinth. They didn’t know it, of course – every corridor, every hedge-lined walkway, looked exactly the same as the previous one. There was no real distinction between the inner labyrinth and its outer reaches, nothing to aid the pair in getting their bearings or any sense of whereabouts. For hours upon hours, it was a sea of identical corridors and hedge-lined passageways. Such things are to be expected of a structure designed to get people lost and they both considered the possibility that they were genuinely walking around in circles. Then, like a beacon of hope, they came across a burned-out torch hanging in a sconce on the wall.
Sir Jim rushed over, as much as his limp would allow, and touched the blackened end. This turned out to be a mistake, burning his hand and causing him to snatch it away.
“Well what did you expect? You grabbed the bit which is usually on fire!” Natalya observed correctly. All those years of noticing which end of torches were aflame had finally paid off.
“I was trying to tell if it had been lit recently. Turns out, yes. That means there’s someone else alive in here.” He stared anxiously along the path ahead of them, half-expecting to see someone heading along it, and half-hoping that he wouldn’t.
“Or something. Remember what I said about there being evils greater than men in here.”
“It might just be another lost traveller who needs our help.”
“How could we possibly help anyone? Keeping them company whilst we’re all lost together? Are you going to help them get killed by wolves?”
“We can all search for a way out together. Or maybe they know the way back to where they entered and can help us.”
“I don’t think that’s very likely. If they knew how to get out, why would they bother lighting torches behind themselves? Besides which, if they are from outside the labyrinth then they’d need to have carried a lit torch all the way from the entrance in order to light this one. It doesn’t add up.”
“Unless we’re close to the edge!” Sir Jim exclaimed, excitedly. A quick float through the nearby walls confirmed that they were not, in fact, near the edge.
“Oh well. I still think this is a good sign.” Sir Jim said, resolutely looking on the bright side. “Did you see any other torches on the other side of the walls?”
“No.”
“Well let’s keep going this way, then.” Sir Jim suggested, as if they had much choice in the matter. A few hundred paces along the passageway was another burned out torch, then another and another. They followed the line of torches as best they could, turning back whenever the trail seemed to disappear. Further tentative testing of the ends confirmed that these had also been alight recently. Then came one which required no testing at all – a torch which still burned.
“We’re catching up to them.” Sir Jim told Natalya.
“Obviously.”
There was silence.
With the torches lit it was much easier to follow the trail. For nearly an hour they traced the flames through the labyrinth, winding a serpentine path through the dark granite. Then they saw movement.
“There they are! The torch bearer!” In the distance, silhouetted by the torch in their hand, was a thin figure, walking purposefully away from Sir Jim and Natalya.
“What should we do?” The Princess’ ghost asked, but Sir Jim was already running to catch up with the torch-bearer.
“Hey! Hello! Back here!” He hollered down the passageway.
The figure in the distance appeared to turn around, and then took off at a run.
“Hey! Come back!” Sir Jim shouted, speeding up. Natalya’s body flapped harder against him as he ran, making it incredibly difficult going.
“You’ve scared them!” he heard the ghost say, as she floated behind him. “And be careful with me! You might drop me or break something.”
The figure in the distance moved with a peculiar gait, their clicking footsteps echoing down the passageway as if they were wearing decadent ivory-soled shoes; impractical, uncomfortable and ugly, but definitely decadent. The knight and the ghost maintained their chase through twists and turns, the torches on the walls no longer lit but the beacon in the mysterious stranger’s hand providing all the light they needed.
Sir Jim and Natalya passed through a series of short corridors with many sharp corners, and emerged in a long passageway. Dozens of paths led from each side, and the torch-bearer was out of sight. The light from the torch, however, wasn’t. It sent an orange glow into the otherwise dusky passage and seemed to be shaking.
Sir Jim started to run forwards, but Princess Natalya floated into him until he stopped. Drifting in front of him, she put one finger to her lips. Silently, she floated through the walls and headed towards the stranger’s hiding place.
Natalya’s head poked through the wall, and was presented with a very shaky torch and a sound which was very approximately like ragged breathing. It could only have been an approximation, because there was no breath to go with it. Natalya provided her own breathless sound to join the chorus, by screaming when she saw that the torch was being clutched by a terrified looking skeleton, crouching in the shadow of the wall.
Having a disembodied head scream next to the place where its ear should have been did not allay the skeleton’s fears, so much as cause it to scream back.
The two undead stared at one another, screaming openly, then paused for what would have been breath had either of them been alive and screamed some more. After a short while, they both stopped.
“You’re a skeleton!” Natalya stated accurately, her voice an echo in a crypt.
“You’re a ghost!” the skeleton replied, with a voice like a xylophone.
They both paused again, and then relaxed a little. If they were both afraid then neither had anything to fear. That is, until Sir Jim emerged around the corner with sword in hand. The skeleton resumed its screaming with great aplomb.
“Princess! Be careful!” Sir Jim shouted, raising his sword towards the shrieking skeleton. If he was trying to silence it, then he was doing a terrible job.
“Stop! Stop!” Natalya shouted at him. “It doesn’t mean any harm!” The skeleton nodded frantically.
Sir Jim eyed the skeleton and kept his sword up. The skeleton eye-socketed Sir Jim back, which was the best he could do.
“Sir Jim, you’re scaring him! Er, her? Him?” Natalya looked to the skeleton for guidance.
“Him.” It answered quietly.
“You’re scaring him!”
“But I heard you screaming, so I came to help.”
“Well, he was scaring me. And I scared him too. But it’s fine; no-one actually has anything to worry about.”
“I do, I’m still scared of him.” The skeleton corrected, pointing at Sir Jim with a bony finger.
“Why am I scarier than her?” Sir Jim asked, sounding a little offended. “She’s a ghost! I’m just a man.”
“A man waving a sword around and carrying a bloodstained corpse over his shoulder.” Natalya pointed out. The skeleton nodded.
“Well, yes I suppose so. But it’s her corpse, I’m only looking after it because the Princess can’t carry it herself.” He lowered his sword, and the skeleton seemed to relax.
“Don’t you usually wear a body, rather than carrying it?” the skeleton asked.
“Given the choice, I still would be.”
“Hmm. So, what’s a Princess doing in the Labyrinth of Anguish?”
“Dying, mostly.” Natalya answered humourlessly.
“Oh come on, you spent a tiny amount of time actually dying. You’ve spent most of it dead.” Sir Jim complained. “When are you going to let go of it?”
“And otherwise, getting lost.” Natalya said, ignoring Sir Jim and addressing the skeleton.
“Lost? Well, I’ll take you to where I live, to the centre, if you’d like.” The skeleton offered, excitedly.
“Why? So you can lure us into a trap and eat us?” Sir Jim accused, on guard again.
“No! No, I- I’m just trying to help.”
“Leave him alone Sir Jim.”
“He’s a skeleton! When have you ever heard of a reanimated skeleton helping people? They’re summoned by necromancers to kill people.” He raised his sword once more and pointed it towards the skeleton’s head.
“I’m nice! I don’t want to kill anyone! Please don’t hurt me!” he fell backwards onto his pelvis, then scurried backwards on his hands.
“Jim! I said stop! That’s an order!” Princess Natalya shouted, her voice a deathly wail.
The knight stood still, maintaining a frown but lowering the sword again.
“Put it away before someone gets hurt.” The Princess told him. Reluctantly, he sheathed his weapon.
“Thank you! Thank you, you are kind and wonderful!” the skeleton told Princess Natalya, his jaw clattering with desperation and relief. “I promise, I’ve never killed anyone. And I don’t really eat at all anymore, especially not people. But… but you can. Eat, I mean. There’s food and drink where I live, and a bed so you can get some rest. And then you can continue on your way, if that’s what you want. I can guide you to the exit as well, if that’s where you’re trying to get to.”
“Where else would we be trying to get to?” the knight asked with narrowed eyes.
“I don’t know – somewhere else? There are lots of places other than the exit. Maybe you’re trying to see all the walls of the maze, or visit the enchanted hedges. Maybe you seek monsters to slay. Maybe you just like long walks but hate long views, or wanted to take your corpse exploring. It takes all sorts.”
“Why would we be taking a corpse to explore a maze?”
“So that it doesn’t get lonely without its ghost.”
Sir Jim shrugged, unable to fault the skeleton’s logic. “Well, regardless, the devil can take those enchanted hedges and keep them. I don’t trust anyone who thinks they’re a good place to be.”
The skeleton began to shake, fearing another threat of violence from the bloody knight.
“Well I do.” Natalya told him firmly. She turned to the skeleton. “Please lead the way.”
They continued through the maze as a company of three; the skeleton clicking and clattering along, the ghost floating gracefully, and the knight trudging with a corpse over his shoulder. Sir Jim’s quest had certainly taken a turn for the unorthodox.
“So, erm, what are your names?” the skeleton asked timidly, trying to make conversation.
“I’m Princess Natalya, and this is my escort, Sir Jim. What may we call you?”
“Oh, erm, you can call me anything you like, honestly. Whatever pleases you.”
“But what is your name?”
“Oh, my name? I haven’t used that in years. It’s, erm, it’s Peter.”
“Very nice to make your acquaintance, Peter.” Said Princess Natalya, remembering her regal manners.
As they passed unlit sconces on the wall, Peter would raise his torch to them, setting them ablaze and casting an orange glow over the hallway. Princess Natalya found it comforting not to be in the dark any longer. Sir Jim though it was nice to have a way of definitively tracking where they had already been, confident that he could follow the trial of torches if Peter should betray them.
Peter led the ghost and the knight purposefully through the labyrinth. Occasionally he would stop at a cross-roads and tap one bony foot against the floor, remembering which path led towards home, and then set off again with vigour. Every few seconds he would check behind himself to make sure that his new companions were following. Although he had no way of showing it, whenever he saw that he wasn’t alone, Peter smiled.
As they walked through the seemingly never-ending succession of turns and crossroads, Peter did what he could to keep his new companions talking to him, enjoying the sounds of conversation after so many years. He could feel that Sir Jim was still harbouring distrust, and whenever Peter asked about the knight he received a tale of outstanding bravery, intended to make Peter fear him. It was fairly redundant, because Peter was already feared him, but the skeleton didn’t say anything about it.
Princess Natalya was kinder to him, but also seemed angry at Sir Jim. To Peter’s mind (or to the space where his mind used to be) she wasn’t that badly off. She still looked like herself and could think like herself – it was just that she didn’t have all the flesh she used to. Flesh was overrated anyway. He hoped that she would take to being a ghost soon – in his opinion, it rather suited her. Much more than that throat-less, bloody-dressed thing hanging over Sir Jim’s shoulder.
Regardless of how much they might bicker, or how often Sir Jim held his hand threateningly close to his sword, Peter was happy to have the company. It didn’t matter that they weren’t perfect. It didn’t even matter that they might be gone soon. The fact was that then and there, he didn’t have to be lonely.
In just over an
hour the company of three reached a set of gates. Where the outer gates were
imposing, these were welcoming. Where the outer gates warded travellers away,
these gates ushered them in. Where the outer gates were outside, these gates
were not. They were somewhere else. That’s why they were different gates.
Peter didn’t hesitate in front of them. He comfortably pushed them open with his skeletal hands, revealing a large, beautifully tended square garden. Rows of hedges and bushes laden with berries stretched away from them, on the other side of crystal clear, flowing river. Beds of flowers overflowed with bright pinks, yellows, reds, even appealing shades of what can only be described as ‘woodsman’s elbow’. Here and there, large and clearly ancient trees bent and bowed, fully laden with ripe fruits. A small wooden bridge stood in front of the party, allowing them to cross over the water and catch a view of the fish swimming around in it. Facing towards the bridge on the far side was a small but pretty house.
“Welcome to my home.” Peter said, warmly and proudly.
Peter didn’t hesitate in front of them. He comfortably pushed them open with his skeletal hands, revealing a large, beautifully tended square garden. Rows of hedges and bushes laden with berries stretched away from them, on the other side of crystal clear, flowing river. Beds of flowers overflowed with bright pinks, yellows, reds, even appealing shades of what can only be described as ‘woodsman’s elbow’. Here and there, large and clearly ancient trees bent and bowed, fully laden with ripe fruits. A small wooden bridge stood in front of the party, allowing them to cross over the water and catch a view of the fish swimming around in it. Facing towards the bridge on the far side was a small but pretty house.
“Welcome to my home.” Peter said, warmly and proudly.
Peter’s house was
everything the labyrinth wasn’t – warm, light, spacious and comfortable. There
was even a small map of the house by the door, so that visitors wouldn’t get
lost. It was a nice but somewhat insulting touch, especially when any visitors
must have been hopelessly lost in the labyrinth for days beforehand.
“Please, make yourselves at home.” The skeleton told his companions, gesturing towards a selection of softly upholstered seats, all pointed towards a fireplace. The fire was already burning. Sir Jim was only getting more confused regarding the logistics of being a skeleton as time went by – his host seemed to appreciate comfort and warmth despite his lack of flesh, and by the smell of it he enjoyed fine cuisine. The aroma of spiced soup wafted through the small building from another room, making Sir Jim’s mouth water.
“Thank you, Peter.” Natalya said, floating into the middle of the room and looking around.
“Do you have a place where I can put, erm…” Sir Jim started, trailing off quietly.
“Your boots? They can stay just inside the door.” Peter told him pleasantly.
“No, I meant-“
“Your cloak? You can hang on that hook on the wall, over there.”
“No, not my cloak either. I mean the Princess’ body.”
Peter gave a xylophonic gasp. “I am so sorry! Yes, er, please, you can put her down the guests’ room.” He hurried over to a doorway and held it open for the knight. Thanking Peter, Sir Jim entered the room and laid Princess Natalya’s body down on the bed.
The Princess was attempting to sit on one of the chairs without a great degree of success when Sir Jim re-entered the room. He tried to look away politely, but couldn’t help watching the ghost’s struggle out of the corner of his eye. He too wanted to sit down, but now felt that he’d be rubbing it in her face if he plonked himself into a cushion. It wasn’t often that he felt self-conscious about his over-achievement in the field of sitting down, but his present company was somewhat of a special case.
Natalya grew frustrated with her failure to rest. She didn’t necessarily feel tired from their journey – moving was now just a formality rather than something which required exertion, but it was habitual, and another reminder of what was denied to her. It didn’t help having Sir Jim standing around awkwardly either – was this what she would have to deal with forever now? Pitifully averted gazes as she drifted through the furnishings? She grumbled under breath as she finally gave up and floated herself just on top of the seat. Sir Jim was squandering his precious ability to sit in chairs, taking his corporeal form for granted just like always.
Sir Jim unlaced his boots and left them by the door, then sat down opposite the Princess. It felt wonderful to rest on something softer than the ground – they’d been on the road from Castle Dewlayne for a week, and had slept on nothing more comfortable than the forest floor in all that time. The knight allowed himself to relax into the seat, but kept his sword nearby. There was no telling what else might come to visit Peter’s house.
“Please, make yourselves at home.” The skeleton told his companions, gesturing towards a selection of softly upholstered seats, all pointed towards a fireplace. The fire was already burning. Sir Jim was only getting more confused regarding the logistics of being a skeleton as time went by – his host seemed to appreciate comfort and warmth despite his lack of flesh, and by the smell of it he enjoyed fine cuisine. The aroma of spiced soup wafted through the small building from another room, making Sir Jim’s mouth water.
“Thank you, Peter.” Natalya said, floating into the middle of the room and looking around.
“Do you have a place where I can put, erm…” Sir Jim started, trailing off quietly.
“Your boots? They can stay just inside the door.” Peter told him pleasantly.
“No, I meant-“
“Your cloak? You can hang on that hook on the wall, over there.”
“No, not my cloak either. I mean the Princess’ body.”
Peter gave a xylophonic gasp. “I am so sorry! Yes, er, please, you can put her down the guests’ room.” He hurried over to a doorway and held it open for the knight. Thanking Peter, Sir Jim entered the room and laid Princess Natalya’s body down on the bed.
The Princess was attempting to sit on one of the chairs without a great degree of success when Sir Jim re-entered the room. He tried to look away politely, but couldn’t help watching the ghost’s struggle out of the corner of his eye. He too wanted to sit down, but now felt that he’d be rubbing it in her face if he plonked himself into a cushion. It wasn’t often that he felt self-conscious about his over-achievement in the field of sitting down, but his present company was somewhat of a special case.
Natalya grew frustrated with her failure to rest. She didn’t necessarily feel tired from their journey – moving was now just a formality rather than something which required exertion, but it was habitual, and another reminder of what was denied to her. It didn’t help having Sir Jim standing around awkwardly either – was this what she would have to deal with forever now? Pitifully averted gazes as she drifted through the furnishings? She grumbled under breath as she finally gave up and floated herself just on top of the seat. Sir Jim was squandering his precious ability to sit in chairs, taking his corporeal form for granted just like always.
Sir Jim unlaced his boots and left them by the door, then sat down opposite the Princess. It felt wonderful to rest on something softer than the ground – they’d been on the road from Castle Dewlayne for a week, and had slept on nothing more comfortable than the forest floor in all that time. The knight allowed himself to relax into the seat, but kept his sword nearby. There was no telling what else might come to visit Peter’s house.
* * *
Eventually,
Peter reappeared from the kitchen carrying a bowl of steaming soup, and handed
it to Sir Jim. The knight graciously accepted and started shovelling it into
his mouth; it was the best meal he’d ever been given by a reanimated body.
Peter sat in another of the seats and watched Sir Jim eating, happily.
“Is no-one else having any?” Sir Jim asked, realising too late what he was saying.
“I’ve rather lost my appetite. And my capability - it would all fall out of my throat hole.” Princess Natalya sneered back.
If Peter had still had cheeks, he would have been blushing. “Please don’t feel bad about it Princess, the same would happen to me.”
That wasn’t much of a comfort to Princess Natalya, truth be told, but she smiled politely at Peter all the same.
“So, who are you Peter? How did you come to live here?” she asked, with her best royal manners.
“Oh, well, it’s a long story. I wouldn’t like to bore you.”
“Nonsense, if we are to rest here then we have all night. I don’t think I’ll need much sleep anymore.” She spared a scowl for Sir Jim.
“Please, Princess, do forgive him. He must be so tired from carrying your body around and he has stuck with you, even in death. He is dedicated to you, and if you will forgive me for saying so, you wouldn’t want to drive him away. It gets very lonely when you drive people away.”
“I-… I will try my best to hold my tongue, for you, Peter. Now, I believe you were going to tell me about yourself.”
Sir Jim nodded with a mouthful of soup.
“Well, I wasn’t always a skeleton.” He started with a weak laugh. “I used to be a man. I always had a skeleton,” he rubbed the back of his head with one hand nervously “but, I mean, it was inside me at the time.” He looked from one to the other of Sir Jim and Princess Natalya. The Princess indicated that he should continue.
“My name was Peter Heartsbane, an awfully long time ago. I suppose it still must be now, unless someone has renamed me. Can people do that, these days?”
“Not unless you get married.” The Princess replied.
“Hm, well, I think my name must still be Peter Heartsbane, then. I was a young man until I got old, and an old man until I died, so I think that means I must been fairly consistent in how I conducted myself.”
“And you’ve been a skeleton since then?” Sir Jim asked between mouthfuls.
“Erm, well, mostly. There was a messy transitional period which I didn’t much enjoy. There were a few things I didn’t enjoy about that time of my life, truth be told.”
Princess Natalya gave him a sympathetic look.
“Oh, there’s no reason to feel maudlin on my account. I’ve learned to look on the bright side and not let these things bother me so much. Death was a big wakeup call like that – you can’t dwell on it.” The firelight cast dancing shadows inside Peter’s head as he spoke. “It opened my eyes to a lot of pettiness that I could do without, I think.”
“Like what?”
“Like holding it against people that they aren’t perfect, mostly. I, er, I never had much of a way with people back when I was alive. When you have power, or when people never challenge what you say, you can become very judgemental and very unforgiving. A slight injustice can be enough to write people off indefinitely, you know? Not much cause for going to the effort of forgiving someone if you can do well enough without them. As it turned out, burning bridges too readily didn’t make my life any easier. People still talked to me because they needed my talents, but I was very much alone in every other sense.”
“Needed what talents?” Sir Jim asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Erm, well, magic. I was a wizard in life, so I held a position of great power among the townsfolk. They’d come to me to solve their problems, some far more valid than others, suffice it to say. Oh, but I was so intolerant of them – I’d turn them away if I didn’t think they were showing me the proper amount of respect or obeisance, or if there problems didn’t seem worthy of my time. It didn’t stop them, of course, it just meant they’d come back a second time and curse me under their breath out of earshot. It was the same with the nobles; they all wanted favours and could promise gold, servants, political favours, the lot. But I was just as arrogant with them, and their promises gave me no reason to get excited.” Peter’s jaw clicked and tapped sadly as he spoke.
“The worst was how I treated my peers, though. It’s easy to have high standards of people, but no-one ever meets them, really. You have to learn to accept that, but I never really managed it. If I thought someone had done me wrong somehow, that was it – I gave up on them completely and cleaved them out of my life. It happened more and more frequently as I gained more power. As soon as I felt wronged by someone I would dwell on it to the point that it was all that relationship meant to me anymore. I left myself a wake of people who didn’t make the cut, because I told myself that if they were ‘willing to hurt me once they’d be willing to do it again, and friends shouldn’t do that’. Like I said, I couldn’t look past the fact that no-one is perfect and just forgive them. Eventually, I got so weary of the burden of other people that I cut all ties with the world, and came here to my little home by the water.”
“You came to live in the labyrinth instead!?” The Princess gasped.
“I built the labyrinth.” Peter replied.
“You… you’re the architect? You are the great evil who created the Labyrinth of Anguish?” She was floating upwards out of her in shock – levitation was something she needed to get used to.
“I’m not evil.” Peter said hurriedly, holding his hands up as if to prove he wasn’t up to mischief. “And I’m certainly not great any longer.”
“But, if you built this place then you must be impossibly old.”
“You’re a ghost. Talking to a skeleton who just made me some soup. Let’s not go throwing the term ‘impossible’ around lightly.” Sir Jim reminded the Princess.
“Oh, so you get beaten up by one enchanted hedge and suddenly you’re an expert in the other-worldly powers.”
“You were beaten by one of my hedges?” Peter asked, shocked. “I’m very sorry, I hope it didn’t hurt you too badly. Please don’t let it put you off me.”
Sir Jim waved a hand as if to say it was nothing. “It won’t put me off anything except hedges.”
“But they never get overgrown, and they pick their own fruit when it’s ripe! They’re my masterpiece!”
“I prefer your soup.” Sir Jim said flatly.
“Regardless of Sir Jim’s floral entanglements, why did you build the labyrinth?”
“It was the best way I could think of to keep people away from me. I could have some peace and quiet in here. Few came looking for me, and none who did made it through to my home. My river gets me water, my bushes and hedges get me food – there’s no reason to leave. At least, I thought there was no reason to leave. I, erm, I found that being alone comes hand in hand with being lonely. I finally had my isolation, but it didn’t taste as sweet as I’d expected.”
“Why didn’t you just leave then?”
“I tried, but I was reviled when I finally emerged. I was accused of building my labyrinth to lure people in and watch them die, and the townspeople had coped with me saying ‘no’ for so long that my absence made no difference to them anyway. They had turned against me, just like I had turned myself against them before.
“My former peers had all moved on or died by this stage. They went away either hating me or thinking they weren’t welcome in my life anymore. So I just retreated back into here. Eventually my body died, as these things tend to do, and my powers went with it. I suppose there was enough magic left over to keep me animated, but that’s all; I’m just the bones of a lonely old man, now. But after all this time I think… I think you come to learn that forgiveness isn’t always for the person who is being forgiven. Sometimes it’s about letting go of what makes you angry and moving on. It’s about accepting that no-one, not even you, meets your standards - and that’s OK. Forgiveness is there to tell yourself that you’re not going to let that thing, whatever it is, hurt you anymore. And maybe the person you’re forgiving doesn’t always deserve it, but you deserve to let go. It was an overdue lesson, hard learned. But I’m grateful now for all the company I get. Please, stay as long as you would like to. You’re no burden to me at all.”
“Is no-one else having any?” Sir Jim asked, realising too late what he was saying.
“I’ve rather lost my appetite. And my capability - it would all fall out of my throat hole.” Princess Natalya sneered back.
If Peter had still had cheeks, he would have been blushing. “Please don’t feel bad about it Princess, the same would happen to me.”
That wasn’t much of a comfort to Princess Natalya, truth be told, but she smiled politely at Peter all the same.
“So, who are you Peter? How did you come to live here?” she asked, with her best royal manners.
“Oh, well, it’s a long story. I wouldn’t like to bore you.”
“Nonsense, if we are to rest here then we have all night. I don’t think I’ll need much sleep anymore.” She spared a scowl for Sir Jim.
“Please, Princess, do forgive him. He must be so tired from carrying your body around and he has stuck with you, even in death. He is dedicated to you, and if you will forgive me for saying so, you wouldn’t want to drive him away. It gets very lonely when you drive people away.”
“I-… I will try my best to hold my tongue, for you, Peter. Now, I believe you were going to tell me about yourself.”
Sir Jim nodded with a mouthful of soup.
“Well, I wasn’t always a skeleton.” He started with a weak laugh. “I used to be a man. I always had a skeleton,” he rubbed the back of his head with one hand nervously “but, I mean, it was inside me at the time.” He looked from one to the other of Sir Jim and Princess Natalya. The Princess indicated that he should continue.
“My name was Peter Heartsbane, an awfully long time ago. I suppose it still must be now, unless someone has renamed me. Can people do that, these days?”
“Not unless you get married.” The Princess replied.
“Hm, well, I think my name must still be Peter Heartsbane, then. I was a young man until I got old, and an old man until I died, so I think that means I must been fairly consistent in how I conducted myself.”
“And you’ve been a skeleton since then?” Sir Jim asked between mouthfuls.
“Erm, well, mostly. There was a messy transitional period which I didn’t much enjoy. There were a few things I didn’t enjoy about that time of my life, truth be told.”
Princess Natalya gave him a sympathetic look.
“Oh, there’s no reason to feel maudlin on my account. I’ve learned to look on the bright side and not let these things bother me so much. Death was a big wakeup call like that – you can’t dwell on it.” The firelight cast dancing shadows inside Peter’s head as he spoke. “It opened my eyes to a lot of pettiness that I could do without, I think.”
“Like what?”
“Like holding it against people that they aren’t perfect, mostly. I, er, I never had much of a way with people back when I was alive. When you have power, or when people never challenge what you say, you can become very judgemental and very unforgiving. A slight injustice can be enough to write people off indefinitely, you know? Not much cause for going to the effort of forgiving someone if you can do well enough without them. As it turned out, burning bridges too readily didn’t make my life any easier. People still talked to me because they needed my talents, but I was very much alone in every other sense.”
“Needed what talents?” Sir Jim asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Erm, well, magic. I was a wizard in life, so I held a position of great power among the townsfolk. They’d come to me to solve their problems, some far more valid than others, suffice it to say. Oh, but I was so intolerant of them – I’d turn them away if I didn’t think they were showing me the proper amount of respect or obeisance, or if there problems didn’t seem worthy of my time. It didn’t stop them, of course, it just meant they’d come back a second time and curse me under their breath out of earshot. It was the same with the nobles; they all wanted favours and could promise gold, servants, political favours, the lot. But I was just as arrogant with them, and their promises gave me no reason to get excited.” Peter’s jaw clicked and tapped sadly as he spoke.
“The worst was how I treated my peers, though. It’s easy to have high standards of people, but no-one ever meets them, really. You have to learn to accept that, but I never really managed it. If I thought someone had done me wrong somehow, that was it – I gave up on them completely and cleaved them out of my life. It happened more and more frequently as I gained more power. As soon as I felt wronged by someone I would dwell on it to the point that it was all that relationship meant to me anymore. I left myself a wake of people who didn’t make the cut, because I told myself that if they were ‘willing to hurt me once they’d be willing to do it again, and friends shouldn’t do that’. Like I said, I couldn’t look past the fact that no-one is perfect and just forgive them. Eventually, I got so weary of the burden of other people that I cut all ties with the world, and came here to my little home by the water.”
“You came to live in the labyrinth instead!?” The Princess gasped.
“I built the labyrinth.” Peter replied.
“You… you’re the architect? You are the great evil who created the Labyrinth of Anguish?” She was floating upwards out of her in shock – levitation was something she needed to get used to.
“I’m not evil.” Peter said hurriedly, holding his hands up as if to prove he wasn’t up to mischief. “And I’m certainly not great any longer.”
“But, if you built this place then you must be impossibly old.”
“You’re a ghost. Talking to a skeleton who just made me some soup. Let’s not go throwing the term ‘impossible’ around lightly.” Sir Jim reminded the Princess.
“Oh, so you get beaten up by one enchanted hedge and suddenly you’re an expert in the other-worldly powers.”
“You were beaten by one of my hedges?” Peter asked, shocked. “I’m very sorry, I hope it didn’t hurt you too badly. Please don’t let it put you off me.”
Sir Jim waved a hand as if to say it was nothing. “It won’t put me off anything except hedges.”
“But they never get overgrown, and they pick their own fruit when it’s ripe! They’re my masterpiece!”
“I prefer your soup.” Sir Jim said flatly.
“Regardless of Sir Jim’s floral entanglements, why did you build the labyrinth?”
“It was the best way I could think of to keep people away from me. I could have some peace and quiet in here. Few came looking for me, and none who did made it through to my home. My river gets me water, my bushes and hedges get me food – there’s no reason to leave. At least, I thought there was no reason to leave. I, erm, I found that being alone comes hand in hand with being lonely. I finally had my isolation, but it didn’t taste as sweet as I’d expected.”
“Why didn’t you just leave then?”
“I tried, but I was reviled when I finally emerged. I was accused of building my labyrinth to lure people in and watch them die, and the townspeople had coped with me saying ‘no’ for so long that my absence made no difference to them anyway. They had turned against me, just like I had turned myself against them before.
“My former peers had all moved on or died by this stage. They went away either hating me or thinking they weren’t welcome in my life anymore. So I just retreated back into here. Eventually my body died, as these things tend to do, and my powers went with it. I suppose there was enough magic left over to keep me animated, but that’s all; I’m just the bones of a lonely old man, now. But after all this time I think… I think you come to learn that forgiveness isn’t always for the person who is being forgiven. Sometimes it’s about letting go of what makes you angry and moving on. It’s about accepting that no-one, not even you, meets your standards - and that’s OK. Forgiveness is there to tell yourself that you’re not going to let that thing, whatever it is, hurt you anymore. And maybe the person you’re forgiving doesn’t always deserve it, but you deserve to let go. It was an overdue lesson, hard learned. But I’m grateful now for all the company I get. Please, stay as long as you would like to. You’re no burden to me at all.”
* * *
Princess
Natalya and Sir Jim spent the next day with Peter in his home, but after a
second night they informed him that they could spare no more time. The war was
on, and Sir Jim had to deliver the Princess back unharmed. Or, at least,
without any additional harm coming
to her. Plus, if they stayed for much longer, Natalya’s body would ruin the
bedspread. Peter packed fresh supplies for his guests, and the three of them
set off again from Peter’s home towards the exit of the labyrinth.
Peter insisted on lighting the sconces as they went, which slowed them a little, but the Princess and the knight were glad enough to have a guide that they didn’t complain. Plus, according to Peter, the fire would help to keep the wolves and other creatures away.
The journey took the better part of a day, but as dusk closed in on the travellers, they reached the gates towards Aridania – they were free. As they stepped into the dusty valley, Peter paused at the gate. He looked at his thin, pale feet and saw the dust blowing between his bones. The Princess turned back to him.
“Come with us, Peter. I could use a man of learning at my side if I am to rule one day.”
“I’m not sure the world will accept an undead advisor in the court, Princess.” Peter said timidly.
“They’ll have to accept an undead ruler first.”
“I’ll make sure they do so.” Said Sir Jim, his confident bravado returning now that they were well away from any enchanted hedges. “Oh, and, your highness?”
“Yes, Sir Jim?”
“I’m sorry. That I got you killed. For failing you.” He too looked down at Peter’s feet.
Princess Natalya stayed silent for a moment. She realised that it was the first time she’d heard Sir Jim apologise for her death. It was the first time he’d actually accepted any fault for what had happened. Somehow it was worse, it made her angrier than if he’d never apologised at all – he knew he’d been wrong the whole time and said nothing. She wanted to scream at him for taking so long.
“I forgive you. And I shall encourage my father to do the same.” She said instead. “I take it on good advisement that it’s a wise thing to do.” She spared a look for Peter.
“Thank you, ghost highness.” Sir Jim said, looking up at her again.
“Coming Peter?” Natalya asked again, ignoring the inane grin on Sir Jim’s face.
The dead wizard took a look back into the labyrinth, and then turned to the Princess’ ghost. “I… if you’ll have me, I think I’d like that.” He answered.
Natalya smiled, and although Peter had no way of showing it, she could tell that he was smiling too.
Peter insisted on lighting the sconces as they went, which slowed them a little, but the Princess and the knight were glad enough to have a guide that they didn’t complain. Plus, according to Peter, the fire would help to keep the wolves and other creatures away.
The journey took the better part of a day, but as dusk closed in on the travellers, they reached the gates towards Aridania – they were free. As they stepped into the dusty valley, Peter paused at the gate. He looked at his thin, pale feet and saw the dust blowing between his bones. The Princess turned back to him.
“Come with us, Peter. I could use a man of learning at my side if I am to rule one day.”
“I’m not sure the world will accept an undead advisor in the court, Princess.” Peter said timidly.
“They’ll have to accept an undead ruler first.”
“I’ll make sure they do so.” Said Sir Jim, his confident bravado returning now that they were well away from any enchanted hedges. “Oh, and, your highness?”
“Yes, Sir Jim?”
“I’m sorry. That I got you killed. For failing you.” He too looked down at Peter’s feet.
Princess Natalya stayed silent for a moment. She realised that it was the first time she’d heard Sir Jim apologise for her death. It was the first time he’d actually accepted any fault for what had happened. Somehow it was worse, it made her angrier than if he’d never apologised at all – he knew he’d been wrong the whole time and said nothing. She wanted to scream at him for taking so long.
“I forgive you. And I shall encourage my father to do the same.” She said instead. “I take it on good advisement that it’s a wise thing to do.” She spared a look for Peter.
“Thank you, ghost highness.” Sir Jim said, looking up at her again.
“Coming Peter?” Natalya asked again, ignoring the inane grin on Sir Jim’s face.
The dead wizard took a look back into the labyrinth, and then turned to the Princess’ ghost. “I… if you’ll have me, I think I’d like that.” He answered.
Natalya smiled, and although Peter had no way of showing it, she could tell that he was smiling too.
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