This is the companion story to Cendrilla, where Mother, Candide Perrault, sells Rilla to Lord Bluebeard for her weight in gold. But now that everyone hates Candide fro her crimes, she crosses the Cursed Sea to reach Savannah, the country of her birth.
Here are links to the first and second chapters of Mother’s Misfortune in case you’re seeing this for the first time.
~THREE~
Gabrielle gaped. “What do you mean?”
Angelique frowned. “You can’t be a Queen.”
Candide stuck her nose in the air and glared at the captain. “You will arrange my transportation at once.”
Captain Noyer shrugged and gave a boy a silver coin and whispered instructions. The boy scampered off in the rain, making puddles splash over his shins. Candide stood in the middle of the harbor, taking in the sights of her homeland. Fishermen scurried past, carrying multiple-legged creatures and fish the size of ogres. Dockworkers loaded rich crates of pungent spices onto their ships.
Unlike in the Seven Kingdoms, everyone in Savannah had dark hair and olive skin. Despite years of living in the sun, Candide had always kept her complexion fair. Something which differentiated her from her countrywomen and had attracted the attention of the King.
“Are you going to explain yourself?” snapped Angelique.
Candide curved her lips. “I will wait until you’re in the presence of your father, the King, before telling my story.”
Gabrielle squealed and grabbed her sister’s hand. “I told you we were special.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“That attitude is hardly befitting of a princess,” said Candide, putting a hint of reprimand in her voice.
“So you’re really the Queen, then?” asked Captain Noyer.
Candide smirked. “Yes.”
Her face split into a grin when the captain bent into a low bow, but noticed he didn’t attempt to refund any of the gold he and his crew had extorted out of her. She tossed her head. After the awful journey through Merman’s triangle, she couldn’t complain. Half a dozen crew members had died during the trip which made her feel some sense of vindication.
The boy returned with a Talking Toad, a ten-feet tall, crimson creature, carrying a golden carriage on its back. Its handler, a man clad in red silk tunic and matching chaperon, sat on the beast’s neck.
“Mother, I’m not getting on that thing,” said Angelique. “It looks poisonous.”
“Never mind its color. It’s bigger than an elephant. What if it eats us?”
Candide turned to the gaping captain and offered him a regal smile. “I can honestly say it was not a pleasure to have met you. You are a scoundrel and ruffian of the worst order, and if you don’t leave my shores this instant, I will have you hanged for piracy.”
The still kneeling man’s face fell, which gave Candide some measure of satisfaction.
Candide strode forward, forcing the first mate to accompany her with the parasol. She eyed her daughters who shrieked when the first drops of hot rain hit their skin, and they ran ahead to the shelter.
The serving boy unrolled the ladder, and they boarded the carriage and sat in its plush, jaguar skin cushions. Ropes of thick, soft silk secured them to their seats.
He held a large, spiky fruit, from which a bamboo straw protruded. “Abacanut, senhoritas?”
Angelique curled her lip. “That is a pineapple.”
“Thank you.” Candide took she fruit, sniffed its flowery scent, and sucked the cool, sweet liquid. Tears of nostalgia came to her eyes.
Gabrielle accepted an abacanut and hummed in appreciation as she drank it, but Angelique sat in her seat, her arms crossed and her lips pursed.
The toad leapt into the air, crossing hundreds feet. It landed on one of the many pads dotted around the rainforest and leapt again. Although it was disconcerting to be moving around in this fashion, the soft cushion absorbed most of the shock from the bouncing.
In less than half an hour, they neared the Palácio Majestoso, a glorious, marble building consisting of towers, domed roofs, and minarets. The toad stopped on a landing pad in the mosaic courtyard in front of the palace.
A dozen guards, all clad in white uniforms, ran forward, clutching pikes. Candide smiled and opened the carriage window. “I see you are as diligent as ever, Comandante Vistoso.”
The man took off his hat and squinted. “Your Majesty!” He dipped into a low bow. “Welcome back.”
The other guards exchanged confused looks but followed the actions of their superior officer.
Candide smirked. They were probably shocked to see her after all this time.
When they descended the Talking Toad, it croaked, “Turn back! Turn back! Beware the false Queen and her evil wrath.”
“Silence,” snapped Candide, “Or I will have the guards skewer you and serve your legs as delicacies for the swine.”
The toad leapt out of the palace, croaking something about mother’s misfortune. Candide snorted. The filthy beast was wise to run away.
“You’re not actually the Queen, are you, Mother?” whispered Angelique, as they traversed the marble hallways of the palace.
“Quiet, Princess Angelique,” she hissed. “I’ve had enough of your behavior. You’ve been sullen ever since I got rid of the blight on our family, and I will tolerate it no longer.”
“She has a name, you know,” muttered Angelique.
Gabrielle marveled at the grandeur of the palace, like a good little Princess.
They reached the throne room, and Comandante Vistoso rapped on the door, opened it and bowed low. Candide offered the man a gracious nod and strode past him. This was the grandest room in the palace, with its gilded floor tiles, intricately carved pillars and the glass domes on the ceiling.
King Mallon sat on his golden throne, leaning his chin on his fist. As soon as he spotted Candide, he sat up and beckoned her forward. A spring of joy erupted in her delicate chest. With a coy but beguiling smile, she sashayed toward her husband.
“Candide? I thought you were dead.”
She spread her arms wide. “As you can see, Sire, I live.”
A richly dressed woman, only a few years older than the twins, walked forward. “Explain yourself, Mallon, or my father will wage war on this country.”
Candide sneered at the brazen creature. She had the bronze skin and copper hair typical of those from Pampas, the savage country to the west of Savannah. The malice in her eyes gleamed like amber.
“There is no need for rashness, Paulina,” said the King.
“There is when my husband is a bigamist.”
Candide’s hand flew to her mouth. “You remarried?”
The King made a wide, shrugging gesture. “After two years of desertion, I divorced you in effigy. Five years later, we declared you dead and built you a marble shrine.”
“But I’m not dead,” she spat.
“I see that now, but where did you go?”
A soul-deep ache throbbed in her chest. “I was in the Seven Kingdoms, Sire.”
“And who are these young ladies?”
Candide ushered the twins forward. “Gabrielle and Angelique. Your daughters.”
“They look nothing like you,” said the new Queen. “They’re so pale. She must have gotten pregnant by another man and ran away before you found out her treachery.”
“It does appear thus,” said the King.
Tears prickled Candide’s eyes. This was not how she pictured her tearful reunion with her beloved husband.
“Guards, take them to the dungeons.” Queen Paulina turned to the King. “Once you’re a widower again, we will remarry. I will not have my child be born illegitimate.”
Candide’s gaze flickered to the woman’s rounded belly.
“Mother,” hissed Gabrielle. “Do something. You must have had a good reason for leaving.”
The King held up his hand, pausing the guards. “I want to hear Candide’s explanation.”
Queen Paulina’s mouth hung open. “But—”
“Allow me this one indulgence, my beautiful bride.”
She huffed and folded her arms. “It doesn’t change anything.”
The King nodded and motioned for Candide to speak.
She opened and closed her mouth, but no words could come out. How could she speak on this subject when she was shackled into silence by a boon, the most magically binding oath in the known world? She could not even think her reason for leaving. Not until she spoke to Cendrllla. She clenched her jaw. All her problems started with the obnoxious girl. That oaf. That blight on her beautiful life.
Queen Paulina spread her arms wide and addressed the room. “You see? She can’t explain her actions because saying them out loud would be tantamount to admitting treason.”
“Mother!” both girls hissed.
Candide hung her head, her tongue tied by the blasted boon.
“Commandant Vistoso,” said the King. “Escort her to the dungeons.”
“And the daughters,” snapped Queen Paulina. “They’re no heirs of yours.”
The King waved his hand, a gesture which told the guards to do as the Queen said. He shook his head, fixing Candide with the most disappointed of looks. The Commandant led them through the hallways and down the stone stairway to the dungeon. Instead of the echoing of footsteps, the wails of the twins accompanied her on her journey.
***
Candide had never seen the dungeons before, and they were a cramped, dark space, made of some kind of porous stones. The very walls seemed to sweat urine and rot and despair. The Commandant had been kind enough to assign them their own cell, a hovel with rats feasting on a cloth-covered corpse. It was their squeaks, and not the wails of her daughters that set Candide’s teeth on edge.
“What in the Seven Kingdoms have you done to us, Mother?” asked Angelique, her pretty face contorted by misery.
Gabrielle tried to speak, but all she could make were jabbering sobs.
“How was I to know my husband would remarry?”
“But you were gone for at least fifteen years. Did you expect him to be pining after you?”
Candide flushed. That was exactly what she had imagined the King would be doing.
“And why,” Angelique screeched, “Didn’t you explain yourself? That’s not like you, Mother. You always have a witty retort.”
“It’s… complicated.” She sank onto the floor, taking an inconsolable Gabrielle down with her. From that moment on, she ignored Angelique’s rantings. In time, the girl would tire herself out and sit on the floor with them. How she wished she had never met the creature that had started her off on this perilous journey. She would probably still be spinning silk with her sister, enjoying a happy, simple life. Candide shook her head. If she hadn’t made that boon, she would never have had her beloved daughters.
“It’s your greed that got us into this mess. Why couldn’t you have been happy keeping Rilla at home?”
Candide sneered at the thought of that lumbering oaf gallivanting around the countryside, enjoying her freedom from servitude and marriage. Cendrilla should be languishing in this rat-infested dungeon, not her.
Angelique stamped her feet. “I mean, how could you sell that poor girl to a murderer? You saw what he did to that blond boy, and what he did to you. He probably beat Rilla to within an inch of her life and she ran off.”
Candide stroked Gabrielle’s soft, glossy hair, wishing her youngest would shut up. She didn’t have the heart to reprimand her.
“The Talking Toad told you to turn back, but would you listen? No!”
Queen Paulina sashayed into the dungeons, her guards holding flaming torches aloft. At least her presence silenced Angelique’s rantings. Gabrielle raised her head and whimpered.
“I have spoken with the executioner. For the sake of my husband’s reputation, you will not be executed in Castigo square.”
Candide stood and faced her rival. “More likely, you’re afraid the populace will question the legitimacy of your marriage and heir.”
Queen Paulina scowled, which gave Candide a thrill of triumph. She’d hit the haughty wench where it hurt. The woman recovered and put her hands on her hips, emphasizing the swell of her belly. “I will have you slaughtered like the swine you are, and your hearts presented to me as delicacies for the royal hounds.”
Candide straightened her posture and raised her chin. She was the rightful Queen and not this upstart. “I have lived a full and happy life. Something I don’t think you can boast. I am not afraid of death.”
The other woman smirked. “Perhaps not, but can you say the same for your daughters?”
Candide’s face fell. She watched helpless, as the Queen flipped her copper hair and sashayed out of view, taking with her the last of the torch light.
***
Hours later, Angelique’s tirade showed no signs of abating, and Candide was losing patience. Every accusation felt like a slap, every reprimand a bucket of urine on her head. What’s more, the girl’s shrill voice and frantic pacing spooked the rats, and their screeching accompanied the disagreeable diatribe.
Only the presence of the executioner, a sturdy man with pale skin, curbed Angelique’s monologue. A hood covered half his face and left his full lips and strong jaw exposed. The man stood six feet tall, with broad shoulders. His lean physique vaguely reminded her of Cendrilla.
Candide stood to face the villain. “I will look upon the face of the man who is about to kill me.”
The executioner pulled of his hood. The man was in his fifties, with pale features and startling cinnamon eyes, just like…
Candide’s hand flew over her mouth. “Alvaro?”
“Who knows me?” the man replied.
“Great,” muttered Angelique. “That’s probably the man who got her pregnant and made her run away.”
“It is I, your Aunt Candide.”
Alvaro shook his head. “She disappeared eighteen years ago, and besides, she’s ancient.”
“I can prove my claim. Your mother is my sister, Maria. We have another sister, Branca. And you have a star-shaped birthmark on your left buttock. And when you were ten, you used my spinning wheel without permission and broke it. I gave you twenty spanks on your bare bottom for that.”
Red spots bloomed on his cheeks. “All right, Auntie, there’s no need to embarrass me in front of the young ladies.”
Candide grinned. “What is your plan for getting us out?”
The man staggered back, holding out his palms. “Hold on a minute.”
“Alvaro, surely you are not considering matricide? When your mother was busy with her babies, who looked after you?”
The executioner bowed his head and fumbled with his hood. “You, Auntie Candide.” He looked up, fixing his gaze on the twins. “Are those my cousins? They look a lot like my daughter, Giselle. And how did you become so young?”
Candide dragged Gabrielle to her feet. “Never mind that. Get us out of here.”
Alvaro glanced from side to side. “Your execution is scheduled for tonight. I’ll slaughter three sows and present their hearts to the Queen.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. His hands shook as he unlocked the iron gate. “There’s a back exit for slops and dead prisoners. You three climb out through there in ten minutes time, and I’ll meet you outside.”
What Alvaro failed to mention was that this so-called back exit was in fact an excrement-lined chute, which stank worse than the rotting corpse. Candide pulled her daughters to her bosom, and together, they jumped. Her back skidded painfully along human feces, rodent bones and things too horrific to consider. She clenched her jaws and held the girls close, trying to take the brunt of the grit and the filth and the torment.
The fall took less than ten seconds, but it coated Candide in a lifetime of squalor. Sludge had gotten into her hair, ears, nostrils and under her dress. They landed with a plop on a pile of what she hoped was dung. But when something wriggled between her buttocks, she screamed and leapt out.
“Quiet, Auntie!” hissed Alvaro. A few other men had joined him. She recognized them as relatives. A feeling of relief swept through her. When she’d married the King, she made sure to install as many members of her family into the palace staff. Of course, they had not known her true identity, but it had felt good to know she was providing her extended family with a secure income. And now her good deeds had gotten her saved from the axeman’s blade. Alvaro pulled forward a young man. “This is my eldest, Lucio. He’s the royal gong farmer. If you crouch between the barrels of feces, he will take you to my mother’s house.”
“Thank you,” she said.
The twins also gave the men tearful words of appreciation.
Candide mused that less than a week ago, she and the twins would have been haughty to these honest working heroes, but now, she felt an appreciation so deep, it made her heart swell with gratitude.
Minutes later, Lucio brought a donkey and cart. The three of them climbed on the back and huddled between barrels of human waste. Though the journey was bumpy and the odor less than pleasant, Candide felt a joy she hadn’t experienced since her youth. She placed her arms around her precious twins. In less than an hour, she would be reunited with her sisters. She wondered whether they had grown older since she’d left Savannah, and she hoped they were not ailing.
The cart made two stops. One at the gate where the guards walked around, joking about the contents of the barrels. The other was at Lago de Merda, a large lake on the outskirts of the city where everyone dumped their excrement. Gabrielle and Angelique trembled at the sights. Boars the size of elephants rolled in the muck, their bristles the length of a man’s arm. Their grunts and screeches filled the air.
Bald-headed vultures, as large of greyhounds swooped down, feeding on the carcasses floating in the lake, squawking and grunting and hissing. They raised their blood-covered heads, clacking their beaks.
But worst of all were the insects. Mosquitos descended upon Candide and the twins like a plague, buzzing in their ears, nipping at their flesh. They flailed, trying to keep the fiends off them, but to no avail. Flies the size of a baby’s fist hung low in the air, their wings making the most disturbing sounds. But fortunately, they kept away.
“Sorry about that, Aunt Candide,” whispered Lucio. “I’ll take you to grandma’s house straight away.”
It was only once they were out of the vicinity of Lago de Merda and its disgusting inhabitants, did Candide relax. After their calamitous day, nothing else could possibly go wrong.
TO BE CONTINUED…
The full, updated version of Cendrilla is now available on Amazon. I hope you enjoy it.