The Queen

The figure strode majestically through the thoroughfare, standing tall, holding its torch on high. She was clothed regally, and I thought perhaps she might have been a queen of some distant land as I watched her from the shadows. Her shoes seemed strangely discordant however, as I noticed upon closer observation, though she wore her dress long, perhaps in an attempt to hide them. They were rather plain shoes, not at all in keeping with the rest of her clothes or her grand presence, and they seemed to have writing on them, as if some naughty child had been at them with a marker. I could not make out the words at first, but as she walked and her dress swayed, I did make out the word ‘masses’.
Struck by her royal bearing and the incongruity I had seen in regards to her footwear, I began following her discretely, something I am good at.
Perhaps I should tell a little of myself before I go on. In my own way, I am a monarch myself, a ‘king of shadows’ if you like. I make the thoroughfare my home, for it is an interesting place – they say of it that it is the place where ‘all worlds meet’. You can buy anything here, however audacious, however simple, from grilled fresh-water eel to 11th century jewel encrusted statues of ancient monarchs. I find enlightenment here among all of the sights and sounds and smells of all the people of all cultures of the world. It is hard to say much more as I do not even fully understand myself (who does?), but I once had a dream that there was a man drowning in a deep, dark whirlpool of water, and that I was that whirlpool. Somehow that dream has struck me as being more significant in many ways than the waking dream of life, but I digress. Let me tell you more of this queen I saw walking through my domain.
As I shaded her, I noticed her stopping to admire some very intricate merchandise from one of the top vendors on the thoroughfare. She seemed much taken with some very expensive goblets of gold encrusted with diamonds. She did not notice the man curled up on the street near her, but I did, for I make it my business not to miss such things. The man was apparently a drug-addict, and appeared of the typical mold, homeless, not quite mentally sound, and in deep physical and psychological pain. He was curled in the shadows of the vendors stall, which seemed not to notice him, curled as if in a fetal position of pain. But his eyes were open. He was looking at the shoes of this great lady, for they were right at his eye-level as she shopped.
The queen, as I will call her, took a goblet in one hand and held it up to the sunlight to see the rays glance off the diamond facets, and did not notice as the man at her feet struggled upright to a sitting position. He seemed to raise a hand imploringly to her, but she did not notice. She seemed to come to a decision, and smiling, paid the merchant a great deal of coin and turned to leave, goblet in hand. The man said something then. I could not hear his voice, but I heard her reply quite clearly.
“My queen, you say?” she said, looking down at him. She appeared to really look at him for a moment, before her gaze was drawn back to her new purchase, with which she seemed quite taken.
“Yes, I suppose you are one of mine.” She glanced down and graced the man with a brief but dazzling smile.
“Don’t worry” she said, her voice slightly lower, almost confidential. “I’m on your side. I am not narrow-minded like my husband, and I fully support many causes to help and support people such as you. I gave a great speech on it just yesterday, did you not hear of it? I strongly urged the king to allocate more of the treasury towards the helping of the underprivileged, and to raise a levy against those petty nobles who stride about the court caring nothing for such poor, pathetic individuals as you. It may well be that he will heed me, for he can’t afford not to. I have made many advances in your cause.”
The man on the streets hand fell, slowly, a look of confused bewilderment on his face. It was clear that her speech was beyond his comprehension. She smiled down at him once more, and for a moment it reminded me of a look I had once seen a great lady give a favorite pet of hers. Then she went on her way, admiring her recent purchase and humming some nameless tune.
Suddenly she stopped and seemed to be considering something. Such was her poise that she seemed to radiate an aura of genius, of deep wisdom, of insight beyond that of normal mankind. She appeared to reach some state of enlightenment, for she turned, and as she did so, her face shone like the sun. She smiled back at the man yet again, and if the effect before was dazzling, this time it was beyond words. It seemed that the very glow of that look of compassion and understanding, of that smile itself, would raise that man up from the ground, clothe him in velvet, and send him on his way.
She opened her mouth, and words came out. They seemed to hang on the air, to paint a vibrant picture. Truly this was a woman of power, without doubt.
“There is great beauty in life, sir. It is all around you. If you don’t know it now, you will someday. Just look. Look at the sun. Look at the sky. Look at this grand thoroughfare with all its life. Look. See the beauty. See the beauty in life, and be content.”
I was stunned for a moment. I saw great truth in her words. Truly this was a queen not just in appearance but in mind and thought as well.
The man slid slowly back down to a fetal position. A spasm of pain, whether hunger or withdrawals or what I do not know, seemed to contract him tightly, and his eyes began to glaze. I thought for a moment he was going to die right there in front of me, but he merely coughed once, and subsided to the semi-comatose state he had been in before. The fellow was still alive, though I could not say whether that was blessing or curse. I tended toward the latter.
When my glance returned to the queen, she was strolling down the thoroughfare and I hurried to keep up with her. I did not see the goblet in her hand, and assumed she must have put it into one of the many shopping bags she carried.
She reached an intersection, and stopped, seeming to consider. She appeared indecisive, but finally decided to turn to her left. I was appalled, for I knew that no great lady such as her should be traveling more than one block down that street. It led to one of the worst sections in this whole area, and that which was sold in that district was not something a queen would condescend to even think on.
Or so I thought.
As it turned out, she apparently knew of a specific vendor there, for once she passed a few blocks, her steps increased, as if her purpose was more assured. She knew where she was going. When she stopped at the black and red tables on the left, under deep shadows of a great overhanging canvas awning, I admit I was a bit surprised, but not as much as I had been earlier. I knew this merchant. An unsavory sort, but one of great reputation in certain circles. He often had things that were very rare indeed, if a bit…questionable.
She began talking to him, but this time her voice was subdued, and I could not hear the conversation at all. After a moment, the merchant glanced slit-eyed to the left and right in a cunning gesture, and then pulled forth a red velvet covered object. When he removed the covering, I heard the “ooh” from where I stood, although I was not sure if the sound came from my mouth or hers. He held a work of art, and it was breathtaking. It was an obsidian statuette, about a foot and a half high, of such detailed and marvelous workmanship that it seemed almost a living being. I expected at any moment that it would yawn and stretch, such was the skill of its maker. Its eyes were the most magnificent rubies I had ever seen, and I had seen a few. Its jewel encrusted horns sparkled even in the shadows. The diamond-tipped nails of its hands and feet were exquisite. It seemed flawless, perfect, priceless. There could be no doubt there was nothing like it in the whole world.
The queen grabbed for it hungrily, like a child, and I was suddenly taken aback. A shadow seemed to pass over her, and I could not discern her features. Then she was walking back up the streets. I saw no sign of the statuette, that beautiful work of art that had stunned me so, but on closer perception I saw that she was laboring. The thing was in a bag in her right hand, and apparently was very heavy, for though she tried not to show it, the weight pulled hard upon her, causing her to bend slightly to one side, and marring slightly her regal pose of before. A tiny bit of sweat began to bead her brow, but her eyes glowed and a smile played at the corner of her lips. I could see that in her minds eye, she was already in some secret place admiring her new purchase.
It was then that what I feared would happen occurred. Before she had taken many more steps, several men sprang from the shadows. They seemed to be of many races, cultures, and nations, a motley collection of thieves, thrown together by common need perhaps. Long knives glistened in the shadows, but to my surprise, the queen showed no fear.
“What is it you wish?” she asked. There was power in her voice. I was sure the men would put there knives away and bow before her, begging her forgiveness, basking in her graciousness.
“Your death,” said one man. He appeared the leader of the group. Dark eyes glistened beneath his turban.
“We have seen what you have just bought,” said another in a voice that spoke sacrilege.
“We know of the joys you horde, of the prosperity you revel in while our poor lay dying of hunger in the streets,” said a third.
I was surprised. I thought these men were robbers, but it appeared they were assassins.
“You speak of my husband, the king,” she said. “Not of me. I understand your plight. I am an ally to your cause.”
Her tone became one of great passion. It was clear she believed fully in what she spoke.
“I speak constantly on your behalf to my people. I have influenced the king to pass many laws to help such as you. We have poured out great amounts of money from our treasury to you. If you kill me, you kill your greatest ally.”
I felt sure the men would be swayed by the wisdom of her words. They would be fools to kill her.
These men, however, were remarkably unswayed by her voice. Perhaps years of hardship had inured them to such things. They only looked at her.
Suddenly, from behind, one struck swiftly, cutting the ties to all her bags. The contents spilled onto the ground, many beautiful and wonderful things.
The man with turban pointed down at the black statuette so recently purchased, but he said no word. Some of the other men stared, astonished at the wealth before them, and then all eyes turned accusingly towards the magnificent queen.
The queen lost all composure and began scrabbling on the ground for her things. Again a shadow seemed to pass over her, and darkness filled the street. I was overcome, and could not see for a moment. It was as if a mist had come before my eyes.
When it cleared, I could see the local law enforcement had appeared on the scene. Immediately summing up the situation, they drove the men back, away from the queen, and helped her regain her possessions. She drew herself up, regaining composure and strength.
Recognizing her for who she was, the chief man among the law enforcement officials called for a carriage, and within an amazingly short time, one was brought forth, a beautiful thing, pulled by magnificent horses, golden in the sun, with a short awning to allow enjoyment of the sun without the full glare of its harshness. A splendidly dressed coachman sat forward on a high seat to guide the horses.
The chief bowed low, and offered to help the queen into the carriage. She inclined her head politely as she mounted.
“Please take this carriage as a gift to make up in some small part for this unpleasantness, your highness” said the man.
The queen seemed pleased. The chief saw that pleasure, and flushed with relief. In his mind, perhaps, he had just averted an unpleasant political situation.
He began having his men round up the assassins, who were quickly disarmed and put into chains, but the lady turned, looking out the side of her carriage before it drew away and spoke.
“Let them free sir” she said. Her tone brooked no argument.
The chief was astonished, but ordered the chains removed immediately nonetheless.
The assassins, these men of many lands, did not seem won over by this charity. I looked closely at them. It was apparent they were poor, and I recognized some of their places of origin by their dress. Some of these men probably had friends and family dying of hunger. Their clothes were threadbare. They were too weak, probably from hunger and broken dreams, to have really done the queen much harm – I saw that now. They had been easily overcome by the lawmen.
“I do not condemn you,” the queen said to the men. “I understand you. I have compassion for you. I will speak on your behalf to my king and my people. Go in peace.”
With that, she gathered her shopping bags about her, signaled to the coachman, and rode off into the distant sunlight.
I, the king of shadows, could not follow her, for she had passed out of my realm. I knew that where she had gone, I could not go, and that even if I could, that she would not be able to even see or hear me. With great sadness, I melted into the darkness, and went back whence I came, as did the assassins all around me.