Young Writers Society

“They’ve got him Linda! They’ve got the King!”

“How long have they had him?” she asked urgently.

“A good few hours. We were dying to tell, you but you were gone for so long,” the girl said excitedly, “You’re not going to believe it Linda, he’s such a wimp. He’s blaming his wife! He reckons the Queen put him up to it!”

Linda raised her eyebrows. The King didn’t sound like much of a man, blaming his wife… She’d soon see for herself.

“Oh, but Linda,” the child said, losing her excited tone and sounding slightly scared. She admired the beautiful widow but was also quite frightened of her.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad. It’s just that they’ve knocked him around a little bit,” she said timidly.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll bloody kill them,” she flung down her bags and stormed towards a small group of men who were sneering insults at a dark figure doubled over on the ground, groaning as they kicked spat upon him.

“I specifically told you not to hurt him, Bisset,” she shouted furiously, “how can you expect them to treat us with respect if we go around beating up their Royalty?”

The man she had addressed looked down and muttered nervously under his breath.

There was something oddly familiar about the man lying crippled on the ground. He was broad shouldered and looked strong and powerfully built beneath the beautifully crafted, gleaming armour he was wearing. He may have been handsome, but Linda couldn’t tell because his face was so purple and swollen. He wore an expression of utter bewilderment as he muttered to himself. “No… no, it can’t be. She’s dead, she’s gone.”

Somehow the battered man managed to get to his feet. As he looked at the woman before him, his mouth hung open. He stared deep into her eyes, deeper than anyone had done in a very long time.

Though his face was almost too bruised to be recognisable, Linda could see his eyes. Those eyes she knew so well, intense and sparkling blue. She had dreamed of them, she had hoped beyond hope that one day she would see them again. Yet there wasn’t any hope, not even a glimmer of it. The owner of the eyes had perished…

“Oy! Don’t you goggle at her like that!”

Normally Linda would have silenced the man who had spoken, but her mind was numb. Every part of her was frozen; frozen in part fear and part delight in what she was seeing. He reached out to touch her face…

“Don’t touch her you scumbag!”

Matthew Kirkham was in love with Linda Jade. Everyone knew that. He hated the way this enemy was looking at her and the way she way looking back. He drew back his fist as the King tried to touch her and hit him with the hardest blow he had ever given in his life.

“No!” Linda screamed, although not in her usual commanding voice. She sounded panicked and generally concerned for the man who had already recieved a lifetimes worth of battering that night. The King staggered and fell back to the ground. Quick as a flash Linda was there with him, down on her knees. She held his head in her arms and smoothed back his short dark hair.

“Eddie… Eddie is that really you?” she whispered, her voice shaking, “I’ve missed you so much…”

Matthew Kirkham was devastated. It was Eddie who had stood in the way of him and Linda for years. Linda was a widow; no matter what anyone said or did she wanted to always remain that way. She never wanted to be married again. Her Eddie was simply irreplaceable… It couldn’t be though, not the King surely…

“Eddie, I don’t understand… They said you were dead.” she said, tearfully.

“They said you were. That’s the only reason I married her. I didn’t even know her, the first time we met was at the altar. I would have searched for you Linda. I’d have never stopped searching if I thought you were alive.”

“Can you stand up?” Linda said, pulling him to his feet, “Would you give us some privacy?”

The rebels muttered amongst themselves.

"It couldn't be could it?"

“Linda, is that…?”

Linda ignored them. She took Eddie’s arm and helped him hobble towards her cabin.

Joy’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Galileo!” she screamed.

“W-w-w-what is it your highness?” the star-gazer stuttered.

“You said my husband killed the rebels; you said the filthy rebels were dead. You lied to me didn’t you? You’re a liar,” she ranted, “I can have you killed Galileo, I can have you hung for treason.”

“Y-y-your highness, please. The Stars say he’s on his way to the palace now. They say that he didn’t murder but that he ordered his men to. The part of his soul that resides in his Star is reeking of guilt ma'am. There is no doubt that all of the rebels, including women and children, are dead. Your highness, I even felt a few of their Stars go out,” Galileo protested weakly.

“I sent my Orb to Edward and he is presently in a filthy rebel hut, covered from head to foot in bruises and talking to some rebel woman. So don’t go on lying to me!” she spat, sounding disgusted that her own husband would be in such company.

“But that is impossible. The Stars do not lie,” he answered, bewildered.

Joy held out her hand, palm upwards and closed her eyes. A shimmering image materialised, hovering above her hand. It was a perfect sphere, purple in colour, dancing along the inside of her hand. Joy’s fingers, which had been curled around the sphere, sprang outwards suddenly and the sphere shattered. The pieces began to form a picture.

It showed a dingy little room, and everything seemed to be crammed into it. A small bed, a table, a stove, a fire, a few mismatched chairs… In the centre of the room stood two people. One of them Galileo recognised instantly as King Edward, Joy’s husband. He was purple with bruises but he didn’t seem to be worrying about them. The other was a raggedly dressed woman with pretty dark eyes, long dark hair and an inner beauty that he knew Joy would never achieve. Joy was stunning, but in a way completely different from the rebel woman. Edward and the woman weren’t speaking, they were simply looking at each other, but the way they were looking suggested that this was not their first meeting. Love was evident in both of their eyes and a sob escaped from the rebel woman lips as tears spilled from her eyes. In an instant they were locked in a tight embrace.

Joy was in a rage. She didn’t care whether or not the Stars said what he was doing. That woman would pay. She would pay a thousand times. Joy destroyed the image and began shrieking out orders.