“The army has seized all the horses.” “They will burn us all at once, in a huge fire, where all the villagers can see.” “The servants will hide the food from us.” “We will have to eat rats. They did that in the old times during sieges.” “They will take the city and burn us as traitors—” The ladies and courtiers whispered among themselves. Now there was no dancing, no gaming, no flirting. The Blue army was camped along both banks of the river. Or so I was told by those who had climbed the stairs to the windy ramparts atop the city walls. Below, I attended the queen. She spent all morning with her advisors, and all afternoon moving around the palace. “There is no meat left in the kitchens,” the people whispered to each other. “The servants are hoarding the food somewhere.” “My mother will be desperate for news of me; she’s all alone in the country house—” “My father—” “My son and his family—” “Burn us alive—” “No fruit left—” Only the queen remained serene.
