The Queen’s Alternative

The Queen’s Alternative

Harry Buschman

“By the authority vested in me by his Majesty King Henry of Greater Parchesi, you are to be escorted to the Tower, Madam. There you will remain until the moon passes through two phases of the wandering planets and await execution by beheading on the eve of Ascension Day.”

Her Majesty sighed and put down her knitting. Under her breath she muttered, “So the old fool went ahead and did it again.” She wished this scribe had not eaten in the tower mess hall, as he intoned the fateful words, the odor of garlic filled her chamber.

On her right side, the castle guard stood by stoically. Like all the others in the court, he knew the reason for the King’s displeasure with the Queen. She had not yet conceived! Unforgivable! Imagine ... five Queens and the House of Parchesi was still without an heir to the throne. There were some gossips at court who suspected the King himself was responsible, but no one dared utter such blasphemy. Yet it was patently absurd to believe that five Queens with guaranteed reproductive capabilities had been infertile. Like the old fairy tale of the fictional Emperor unaware of not wearing clothes, no one dared voice their suspicion.

The scribe droned on, describing in detail the method of execution. He was an old hand at executions. He had read these pronouncements to four previous queens and countless other members of the Royal entourage who aroused the King’s displeasure.

As he spoke, the Queen counted the days on her fingers. “Two phases of the wandering planets,” she considered, “Hmm, a little more than two months ... well, all was not lost ... there was an outside chance.” She cast a measured glance at the castle guard to her right, He was a young man ... a virile man ... would he be discreet?

The scribe was now finished. He rolled up his decree and turned to the castle guard. “You will stay with Madam until her escort arrives,” he said.

The door closed behind him as he strutted out carrying his scroll and garlic breath with him. The Queen looked at the castle guard once more. “Young man,” she said throatily. “We don’t have much time, let me tell you what you must do.”