11/19/07 |
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Alesha Polles I
lay in bed, unable to sleep. Those around me were not troubled by their
surroundings. To my ladies, this was just another old castle. To the
guard, this was just another night on duty, another prisoner to guard.
But to me, this place was far more, a forbidding fortress that reeked
appallingly of death. Though the past haunted me, I had been too young
to remember any of it. My memories were based on the stories that were
told of a time no one, even those who had not seen it, would ever
forget. I thought about the events of the morning with a gradual panic washing over me. What were they going to do with me? I had had an unpleasant visit from my sister’s councilors, the Lord Chancellor and more than a dozen members of the Privy Council. They had questioned me closely about my involvement in the rebellion. I denied knowing anything about it. I hadn't! They had left then, but only after they gave me some terrifying news. The Lord Chancellor had stepped forward from the group and said quite calmly, "My Lady Elizabeth, it is the Queen's wish that you go to the Tower until the matter is further examined." The he turned on his boot heel and left my apartments, with the rest of the council members following him.
And I had been left, shaking. The Tower of London. That
terrible place of so many deaths. And the site of the event that had
changed my life so deeply, though I had been far too young to remember
it.
The room had spun and gone dark.
A strange feeling slowly crept over me. I had to be
somewhere. Someone was waiting for me. But who? Where? I didn't know.
Just as I gazed around my
prison, that feeling, that I was needed somewhere, suddenly increased.
And I felt something take my hand. I gasped, and looked at it. There
wasn't anything visible there, but I could still feel the grasp of
whatever it was holding unto me. I felt gentle pressure, pulling me
towards the door. I can’t leave, I thought. The guard will stop me. I
balked. I knew not why I had been brought here, and I felt it was in my
best interest to be obedient. If only until I should be imprisoned
again, I wished to keep my head. Beheading seemed to run in the family,
and I did not wish to be next. Whatever it was gripping my wrist, it
didn't seem to mean any harm. It suddenly occurred to me to put on my
shoes and cloak, for if this being planned to take me somewhere, it
would undoubtedly be cold. It was the middle of March.
I was drawn near to
the door.
Apart from being invisible, what held unto my wrist was also
silent, yet it seemed to have some kind of telepathic connection with
me. It beckoned me to open the door.
I did so and peered out, looking for the soldier who was
guarding me. He was leaning against the stone wall opposite me. He
didn't say a word when I walked out, the thing still holding my hand,
guiding me. He didn't move either. When my escort led me by him, his
eyes were glassy, staring, he seemed dead.
It seemed ominous that I should be leaving my room with an
invisible force holding onto me, and a dead soldier behind me. What was
going on?
It led me out of the Bell Tower, where I had been placed,
and down a narrow lane, paved with cobblestones. At first I thought it
was going to set me free, lead me beyond Traitor's Gate to the outside
world. Instead of taking me out through the gate, which was locked
anyway, it took me to the left, through the Bloody Tower, and down the
stairs to the Green. I didn’t want to go near the Green; the mere sight
of the place that had beheaded so many of my relatives would cap off the
foreboding feeling that overtook me now. Was I being led to my own doom?
The scaffold on the Green was still standing from the last
execution, that of my cousin, a pretender to the Crown. I had no idea
why they kept it up. Perhaps to use it again? On me? I had no
reassurance of my continued existence while I resided in the Tower.
When I attempted to resist, the being that kept a firm grip
on me stopped being friendly and fairly dragged me past the Green. As we
went by, another psychic message floated into my head, that it was my
destiny to meet someone. There was flickering light coming from the
Chapel. I was bewildered, and terrified, but it kept me going. Right to
the door of the Chapel, and in.
The door swung shut behind me. And that force, which had
seemed protective, if aggressive, was gone.
I turned from the door and saw people in the Chapel! All
dressed slightly out of fashion. Only one acknowledged me. That one
turned to me. The face seemed vaguely familiar, bringing back memories
from long ago, that I had not been able to remember moments before. A
woman carrying me, lifting me to an immense man in a window, my father.
Begging him to spare her. Another woman? I had a feeling that the one
before me and the two from my memory were one and the same,
affectionately playing with me. A young woman, a different one this
time, taking me around the gardens at my beloved Hatfield. There was a
strong feeling of dislike radiating from her; she hated me.
I knew these two women. The one at Hatfield was one I knew
all too well, my sister, Mary, now queen, the one who had imprisoned me
here. The one who stood before me, it was impossible.
She was my mother, who had been beheaded on the Green and
buried in this Chapel eighteen years ago.
My mother came to me. She took my face between her hands and
carefully studied it. Her hands felt like ice.
She must have realized how terrified I was, for she stepped
back slightly. “Fear not,” she said in a low voice, hardly above a
whisper. "You are not to soon meet your end. You shall not depart this
world within these walls, though many have before and shall again. You
shall live, Elizabeth, and continue to exist after this mortal realm has
failed you, as it did I.
"You shall be queen. Undo Mary's prejudices, the harm she
has already done and has yet to. If you do so, history will remember
you. Bring England to her finest, and show her off to the world. And one
more thing, most important: Be always one."
I found my voice at last, and though it trembled, I
answered, "Yes, Mother."
"You have your father's strength, determination, and
intelligence. Use it well."
I nodded.
"Do you have any questions, daughter?"
"How am I to do this?"
Mother sighed. "Alas, that I cannot tell you. But it shall
all become clear when the time comes."
"Are you alive?"
“No. I am a ghost of my former self. Do not let that deter
you from the path which destiny has allowed me to show you. You have
been chosen, Elizabeth.”
She began to fade. "My time here is done. Keep in mind what
I have told you. And be always one.”
Then my mother was
gone forever from me for a second time.
The next
night I was visited once more by my mysterious friend who had helped me
to at last meet my mother. I was led again to the Green. I wondered if I
was to see Mother once more”
But when we arrived at the Chapel, there were no ghosts. No
bright light. There was but one small light, hovering over a particular
spot in the floor. I was pulled gently over to it. It was over one of
the paving stones marked with the names of those buried beneath them. I
bent over and read the name with the light of the orb floating just
above my head:
Anne Bullen
My
mother.
I once again felt the slight grasp on
my hand. It led me back to my chamber. There was a feeling that seemed
to hang around it: the deepest sympathy. But for what? I wondered then,
and do now. For the fate that seems to have been chosen for me by
destiny? For the loss of my mother a second time? I'll never know.
But no matter what the circumstances of that visit, I have kept
faithfully the promises I gave to my mother that night. The promises I
made to her and to England. I have always been one.
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Be Always One
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11/19/07 |
This site was last updated 11/19/07