THE ACE OF CUPS, THE ACE OF RODS, AND THE QUEEN OF RODS
Cindy Maddera
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Agatha stared out the carriage window at the passing forest scenery, her rosary clutched tightly in her hands. She closed her eyes and tried to let the sway of the carriage sooth the rising panic that threatened to boil up and out of her. Agatha opened her eyes at the sound of her brother clearing his throat. Theo looked her directly in the eyes and for the twentieth time asked “Agatha, are you sure you want to do this?” Agatha studied her older brother. Theo was the middle child, free of the responsibilities of the oldest male heir but with a promise of a life full of all the benefits bequeathed to males. He was already in the process of acquiring a fine education from a prestigious university. Agatha thought of the classes he was taking and the things he was learning and felt her current rising panic shift over to make room for jealousy.
“Theo. This is the last time you will ask me that question. All of my choices are grim. I can stay and have father marry me off to the highest bidder, I can join the convent and devote my life to God or I can drown myself in the river. Devoting my life to God seems to be the least grim of choices right now.” Agatha turned her head to once again look out the carriage window.
“But what about Eric?” Theo asked.
Agatha felt a pain in her chest at the mention of his name. How long had she loved him and he her? From the very beginning, when they were still very much children. Those were the days when Agatha was still allowed to run wild and free, playing rough and tumble with her brothers and the village children. Eric’s father was in charge of the stables on the estate and once Eric’s chores were finished, he would run to meet them in the fields, usually hauling a giant basket of fruit, cheese and bread packed up by one of the kitchen maids. Everyone would stop in mid tussle at the first sighting of Eric’s blond curls bouncing up the ridge and all would cheer with joy. Then we would all race to meet him and attack the basket of food. Eric always plucked the best plum or apple or pear out of the basket and would present this perfect piece of fruit to Agatha as if he was gifting her a jewel. Agatha would give anything to go back to those carefree days and forget all about the complications of growing up.
“What about him? What do you think? Do you think father is going to allow the stable boy to marry his daughter? Do you think Eric and I can just ride off into the sunset together? Don’t be naive. Though I will love Eric until the day I die, I am resigned to the fact that there is no possible future for us. I’m doing Eric a kindness by joining the Sisters. Remaining there where he would have to watch other men pawing all over me would be a torture. Or having to witness me marry another man, a man he knows that I will never love. Can’t this driver go any faster!” Agatha banged the ceiling of the carriage with her fist in frustration and yelled “Can’t we go faster?”
Agatha and Theo felt a jolt as the horses picked up their pace. She nervously rolled the beads of her rosary between her fingers. Agatha knew that her absence could be discovered at any moment. She had no doubt that her father would send his soldiers to drag her home. They could not touch her once she was enclosed behind the walls of the convent, but right now Agatha was in serious danger. She knew that if she were caught, her father would not just force her to come home. He would devise a cruel punishment for her to endure while he contemplated marriage contracts. Agatha also wanted to hurry because she feared losing her nerve. A cloistered life may sound easier than a life married to some troll of a man, but she had no doubt that sisterhood would pose its own set of challenges.
Agatha stared out the window. The carriage had left the forest behind and entered an open landscape. In the distance, Agatha could see the tall spires of the chapel surrounded by a tall wall. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Agatha immediately threw the word ‘prison’ from her mind and replaced it with ‘opportunity’. This would be a place where she would find ease and comfort, be filled with content by hard work and the love and support of her fellow sisters. Joining the convent was the only way that Agatha could take control of her own life. Agatha crossed herself and brought her rosary to her lips, finding comfort in this simple ritual as the carriage continued to make its way down the road.