Contagion of Red

by Marshall Howden (with art by Kaitlynn Robinson)
Writers Artists Night 2021

Have you heard the tale of the red headed squire who challenged the Scarlett Kings? No, I haven’t either…because the terrible Crimson Dynasty burned every page written about him. But, there were some who remembered.

Rumors spread at the edge of the mountains about an act of defiance that in itself didn’t change much, but sparked a flame. And the kindling of that very flame were the hearts of the villagers themselves. For centuries they were terrorized by their brutal overlords, but again, something was changing.

The Grand Manor that was the abode of the Scarlett Kings was draped in deadly vines around the Winter Solstice every annual. But when the springs came, the ominous vines became appealing. Not quite beautiful, but appealing nonetheless. They had the right touch of a gardener. That certain magic produced when the right hands dig in the soil.

And those vines were kept by Lady Green. She had 3 daughters as well, and they helped her cover the grounds of the manor with life in a place that had caused so much death. Her daughters were Emerald, Teal & Olive. Now they were beautiful, it could be exclaimed, but their beauty was a secret. Or more precisely, their beauty was kept a secret. They would be seen by the young denizens of the Manor, but the boys were loyal liars. And the lying was done to themselves. For to follow the edicts and mandates of the Scarlett Kings, the young squires had to live in constant denial of their desire to spend one sunny afternoon in the gardens with one of the daughters of Lady Green.

Now Emerald was the daughter that was different. Despite the young men forcing themselves to avert their eyes when near her, she made them look. Her presence dominated every scene she was in. And this terrified her mother. As a protective parent she dreaded the power of the Scarlett Kings. She was simple, and bought too much into superstition, but whether from spells or feudal tyrants, she was going to protect her daughters.

But the thing that sealed Emerald’s fate was that she knew too much. She didn’t know his name but she had compiled enough whispers to have heard about the young squire who defied the Kings. And just like every other villager who heard the story, it inspired her. In fact, she was looking to inspire others.
The Scarlett Kings were loosing grip on the village they ruled over for centuries. The relatively young, new king Rosicruz the 7th knew this, and wasn’t about to let the dynasty crumble during his reign. Dogma was his weapon, and the more he made his subjects buy into their religion of fear, the stronger his vice grip on the rebellion became.

And it started with a virus. For everyone knew the Scarlett Kings ruled with blood. Folklore had many names for what the monarchs devolved into. But they consumed blood, and were counted with those of the night. Because of this their servants would sometimes take ill due to their proximity to the wretched kings. But these illnesses would pass if Lady Green treated their sickness. So King Rosicruz devised a plan.

He took to his chambers and didn’t return for months. The official story is that he was consumed with disease, The royal healers were sent out to the public square covered in long red sheets. From head to toe a crimson canvas smothered their entire bodies as they walked into the village proper. And not only were they sent to announce the coming of the deadly plague, but they also brought hundreds of deep red shawls to cover every villager in sight. For if all they saw was red, they could never be inspired by the green beauties.

But the daughter Emerald was not without a plan of her own. She would use the scents of her mother’s garden to disseminate the message of the burgeoning revolution that she was starting. Citrus peels were used first. The villagers had no barley or tea, so the only time they had a refreshment was when a fruit would fall off of the vines and the guardians of the manner would be generous enough to let them keep it. So when Emerald started leaving citrus peels on the doorstep of every hovel in the village, it brought the families together. And because they got together, even though they were forcibly covered and couldn’t see each other, they could talk. So, of course, they talked about the squire who defied the Kings.

But Rosicruz found out. By this time, Emerald the rebel had taught the villagers a sophisticated language of aromatics. If she sent out aromas of citrus into the village, that would come to mean gather. But if she burned the sap of the oak trees, that meant danger. And there was one kind of command that she taught but refrained from sending. For if she burned the leaves of the vines, it would send a terrible smoke in the air that would assuredly be a message to storm the manner, but they were fearful because legend said that the vines were memory killers. If consumed or inhaled, it could wipe ones mind clean.

So when Rosicruz found out and tried to foil the plot…

“He burned the Hell out of, the roots
He took the vines one by one, and burned them all to blot the sun.
But this would be his last mistake, for he forgot what he forsake.
That veil he made the others wear, kept the smoke out of their hair.
And they did march ‘pon the manor, bold
To demand that they’re the story told.
What started with a squire red
Ended with a Rosicruz…dead!