Date: Wed, 13 Aug 2003 23:24:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Kris Gibbons <bookwyrm6@yahoo.com>
Subject: SongSpell-19
This story is a work of fiction. It contains references to violent behavior
between adults, references to sexual behaviour between adult males, and
expressions of physical affection between consenting adult males. If you
find this type of story offensive, or if you are underage and it is illegal
for you to read it, please exit now. All characters are fictional and in no
way related to any persons living or deceased. Any such similarity is
purely coincidental.
This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written consent of the author. It is assigned to
the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission guidelines but
it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the consent of
the author.
I can be contacted at Bookwyrm6@yahoo.com
Copyright 2003 Kristopher R. Gibbons All rights reserved by the author.
The story can continue, there is much that has yet to be fleshed out,
(getting Evendal's spouse & memory back for one) but I have no idea how
welcome such would be. The silence from any readership has been pretty
deafening.
19 The Lady Doth Protest
Gertrude: The Lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Hamlet: O, but she'll keep her word.
Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 2, Line 236
When Ierwbae arrived to relieve Ottily, he found Kri-estaul still
sleeping. Evendal sat in a chair pulled bedside, eyes open, aglow, and
unblinking. At first the Guard said nothing, and moved carefully, uncertain
in the face of his lord's alert stillness. In slow measured steps, the
Guard went to the window and glanced outside, then approached the
King. Evendal's eyes continued to glisten with moisture, yet remained
unblinking, seemingly fixed on a wrinkle in Kri-estaul's bedding. Ierwbae
stopped, noting the slight rise and fall of his lord's chest, and returned
to the other side of the cot to examine his nephew.
Kri-estaul's breathing sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. The
bruises of his aging bites peppered his face, stark against the bluish
white of his skin. With his mouth open, his chest rose and fell pointedly,
like the lungs of a bellows. His eyes moved about under dark lids and his
thumbs twitched on occasion. Ierwbae's hand stretched out to brush
Kri-estaul's still brittle-looking hair, and met resistance: Evendal
ald'Menam's inflexible talonlike grasp.
"That is not necessary." The King's voice came out hushed, gentle.
"You. You startled me, my lord. I only meant to..."
Evendal interrupted, his voice still low and soft. "I know. But it
would just fall back again."
"Can no one else touch him, Evendal?" Ierwbae challenged, disgruntled.
The eyes of the King flared and ebbed, and the look Evendal turned on
his Guard held a fury, an intensity, Ierwbae had never experienced
before. He stepped away from the bedding as one dodging a punch or thrust.
"Not at this time." Evendal hissed. As suddenly as a cloud passes over
the moon, Evendal's ferocity fled. "Forgive me, Ierwbae, but not yet. I
almost lost him! Right now I could eviscerate you without the least
remorse, simply because you are here and available."
Ierwbae looked away, from Evendal and from Kri-estaul, and
whispered. "That cannot be the only reason."
Evendal groaned. Finally he murmured. "You know it is not. Must we?"
"My lord..." Ierwbae hesitated. Evendal could imagine him cringing
inside at his own forwardness. "Twice you have intimated knowledge of... a
personal failing I, apparently, demonstrate. One that grieves you."
"Yes. I have been permissive, in lieu of the turmoil you have endured
of late. The struggle between myself and your aunt, Metthendoenn's
premature attempt to return to duty, my intransigence."
"What roars so in your blood?"
Evendal grimaced. "Ierwbae, you lack honesty. You fail your vow in how
you mistreat your spouse."
Ierwbae stared in amazement at his king, mouth agape. "How do you know
of this?"
And Evendal hesitated. "When I came back from suppressing the
Stonewrights, you and Metthendoenn were talking with Kri-estaul. What you
said, and what you did not say... told me that you had transgressed your
pledge with Metthendoenn. And that Metthendoenn did not suspect this."
"How could that...?" That the Guard had failed to deny Evendal's
accusation smote him to the heart.
"Ierwbae, I am the Left Hand of the Unalterable. And the Songmaster,
whatever that means. One thing it certainly means is that speech, its
cadences, its silences, and people's word choices, will reveal more to me
than either I or the speaker intend. Regardless. You have failed both
Metthendoenn and Ourselves."
"How have I failed you? This is a personal matter..."
Evendal's brow furrowed and his eyes flashed and glowed brighter. "Not
when it involves two of Our Guard. Not when it entails your honesty. Did
you think, as Guard Rinca-eldenth did, that the avowal...'Nor shall I ever
with will or action do anything to besmirch the honour and virtue of his
reign' was simply warm air expended? Or that 'honesty' means simply
speaking no false word?"
The Guard gave no reply, but moved around the bed toward the seated
Evendal and sank to his knees. "Ierwbae, don't. If your failing had been a
single occasion, an errant moment, that, too, I would have perceived. But
your actions have... infested your certainties: You could not speak, as
Metthendoenn did, of how he had come to love your foibles as well as your
strengths. Your talk of love was indifferent and pontifical. Speak with me,
Ierwbae. Cease hiding and trembling like a guilty child."
"Look at me!" The Guard obeyed. "How many, Ierwbae?"
Ierwbae swallowed twice, his face reflecting horror. "F...Four, Your
Majesty."
Evendal digested that news. Softer than a whisper, barely louder than
Kri-estaul's breathing, m'Alismogh replied. "You are fortunate,
Ierwbae. Fortunate that I am not Metthendoenn right now. Or you would be
dying. Not dead, you understand, but dying. Slowly."
"My lord, I vow, I will never seek out another man again!"
Evendal's eyes cut with scorn at the unvoiced corollary that had
leaped to both their minds. "But that leaves you free to seek out the same
men again? You forget, Ierwbae, what We are." Evendal rubbed his hands over
his face. "You cannot make such a vow, in all verity, and you have just
shown it."
"What you can do is retrieve Metthendoenn and bring him
here. Bruddbana can serve at the Palace in his stead."
"But, my lord! I beg of you! Do not tell him of my faithlessness."
"We shall not." Evendal reassured. "You will."
"My lord!"
"And do so before Kri-estaul awakens. Or your member is forfeit! Do
you understand? But you are to tell him nothing until he is in Our
Presence."
"Clemency, my lord! Please?"
Evendal growled. "Clemency? What do you think I offer you now? I
suspect that you have very little time. Go!"
Quickly, Ierwbae fled the light of royal disapproval.
"Papa?"
"Yes, Kri?" Evendal's voice conveyed calm and his expression exuded
gentility.
"I'm thirsty." Evendal carefully lifted Kri-estaul's head and guided a
cup of water to his son's lips. When the boy's neck stopped moving, the
King settled him back under the covers.
"You stayed." Kri-estaul whispered, in awe.
"Of course," Evendal replied, with deliberate glibness.
"Papa?"
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That's not true, is it?" Evendal's tone had, without effort, gone
tender. However tough-minded and strong-willed, his son was still fragile,
and naïf.
"No. But... Doesn't Uncle Bae love Uncle 'Doen anymore?"
"I do not know. But I expect he loves Uncle 'Doen deeply."
"Then what was he doing? Why...? I don't know what to ask."
Evendal encircled his bone-thin charge in his arms, then sighed. "My
son... That makes two of us."
A moment of silence and Kri-estaul fell back to sleep.
After half a bell, Ierwbae rushed in past the door, a flush-faced
Metthendoenn in tow, carried in the arms of two other Guard. "Again, I beg
clemency, Your Majesty!" He huffed like a patterer. Beside him,
Metthendoenn sucked in air as well, his arm pressed to his side after a
rough ride.
"Show some sense, Ierwbae!" the King shouted. "Endangering
Metthendoenn's health will not endear me to your cause!"
"What brought on such a humour, my liege?" Metthendoenn gasped. "He
would only say, 'The King wants us, now,' and rushed me here."
"Rest up a moment, my friend. Sit. What passes must be faced with all
your faculties, I fear. Is there anything you need? Ought for your comfort?
Sit."
Metthendoenn obeyed with alacrity. "'Tis but a cramping in the
side. It will pass."
When both Guard had regained their breath, and Metthendoenn had
regained his calm, he asked again. "What occasioned such desperation, my
lord?" Ierwbae failed to meet his partner's gaze, and Metthendoenn's turned
to Evendal for explanation.
The unmanned Guard turned pleading eyes toward Evendal, who refused
the unspoken begging. "It is for Ierwbae to profess."
Dread clenched Metthendoenn's hands. "My love? What shadows your heart
so?"
"You do know that I love you? Right?"
Metthendoenn nodded, wide-eyed.
"I have not been honest, beloved. I... I have... I have bedded two
men. And. And dallied with two others." He blurted.
Metthendoenn's face could have been carved granite, utterly lacking in
expression; only his bone-white fists and striated neck conveyed his
shock. "Why? Who?" he growled after several breaths.
"No one that matters to me..."
Metthendoenn barked out a noise, halting the palaver. "Who?" he
demanded.
"Korlófierr. Bras-hondigh. And two strangers." Ierwbae's voice came
out a whispered gasping. "I don't recall their names. I never asked."
"How accommodating of them." Shock lent false calm to Metthendoenn's
demeanor. "Did you enjoy it?" he rasped.
The shock held Metthendoenn still. Evendal knew the young Guard well
enough to know that the youth's statue-like demeanor stemmed from
self-consciousness. Metthendoenn's sexual history had indeed rendered him
intensely shy and guarded. The most debasing, humiliating, and prolonged
assault of his life had occurred under the avid audience of a cohort of
Guard and their friends. All too aware of his King's attendance in this
moment of vulnerability, in his own mind any gesture of his would reveal
too much to an enemy that no longer surrounded him. Any emotional response
would become fodder for future attack and humiliation. A hardly rational
fear, but nonetheless all-encompassing. So he froze.
"Metthendoenn!" Ierwbae protested, in an agony of regret.
Metthendoenn's face remained still, his voice calm. "No,
seriously. Did you enjoy it? Enjoy giving to anybody that which I thought
to be our special gift to each other? Our treasure. Our's. A happiness, a
thrill, I thought of as mine alone to give you. I seem to recall such words
from you. Am I mistaken?"
"No," strangled Ierwbae. "But it was only a moment's gratification. It
didn't..."
"Don't you dare!" Metthendoenn rasped. "Don't say it! That's what they
said, too! 'It doesn't mean anything!' I've heard that, from everyone, 'til
I want to kill the next idiot who says it! That's not how I felt. Not how I
feel. I can't live that way, Ierwbae!" That last came out in a plaintive
shout that Evendal knew would haunt his sleep.
"You know that. I don't think that way." Metthendoenn could not see
for his sudden tears. His face and body remained immobile. "Its my heart,
is what it is! You don't know. How terrified I was that Heamon would agree
to my barter! You told me... You told me. 'Only me,' you said! 'Just
another sign of how much we loved each other.' You said... You said..." He
couldn't speak anymore.
"Heamon." Ierwbae whispered, far away in his own thoughts. "I forgot
about that. No, not true. I didn't want to recall." He stared up at
Evendal, and testified against himself. "I said... 'How you are, 'Doen, is
how I want to be. Just you and me.' I said... 'Its not just taking
pleasure, 'Doen. Its sharing love, trust. Sharing hearts and being
vulnerable. Sharing all that might be both ugly and beautiful about me with
you - the one I trust the most.' I said..." Ierwbae stopped, burned by his
own memories. "Oh, Metthendoenn! What can I do? I'm sorry! Thunders, I'm so
sorry!"
Ierwbae reached out, but Metthendoenn shrank back, not even thinking
to do so: Simple instinctual reaction. He looked around to see who noticed,
who else might be reaching for him.
"Four men, Ierwbae? Two of our peers, fellow Guard, whom I face nearly
every day! Two who have known the foundation of my life for a moth-eaten
fabrication!" Metthendoenn regained some control. His voice
steadied. "Korlófierr. Bras-hondigh. And two strangers."
Ierwbae nodded.
"What did you mean by 'dalliance'?" Metthendoenn clearly had more to
say, but he wanted answers for each query, and did not want any glossed
over.
The older Guard turned red-cheeked. "We... masturbated each
other. Held each other."
"That's 'dalliance'? When were you going to tell me? With our liege
present, this is obviously a forced confession."
"Hopefully, never." Ierwbae muttered, glancing at a watchful Evendal
and an open-eyed, if disoriented, Kri-estaul.
Metthendoenn stared toward Ierwbae, but could not be seeing him for
the tears that he struggled to contain. He swallowed hard several times in
rapid succession, but the sobs jerked their way from between his clenched
teeth. When he crumpled and sagged from his seat to curl on the floor, both
grief and shame overwhelmed him. "You," Metthendoenn gulped. "You have no
idea, have you?"
"I'm beginning to." Ierwbae whispered.
After a moment, Metthendoenn disagreed. "No, you are not. 'Hopefully,
never'." Fury pulled the quote from his mouth. He shivered, and bit his lip
until the urge to cry passed temporarily. "That is a greater betrayal than
your 'dalliances'. Utter deliberate defiance of what we pledged each
other." He waved his hand, a gesture of helplessness at trying to relate an
intangible.
"I have told you. I have told you everything. Every gross, painful,
humiliating act and feeling. Every bit of stupidity, naiveté, and
despair. Every time I was shat on, buggered, beaten, or throttled. The two
times I tried, tried!... to act with the indifference you all expected of
me. And I told you all of it. Because we had to be honest with each other."
He laughed, and the dreadful sound tore at everyone's hearts. "Honest!"
"Since how long ago?" he asked, in a breath of calm.
After a long, painful pause, Ierwbae answered. "A fortnight."
"I see," was all Metthendoenn said.
Dread informing every muscle, he turned to Evendal, who regretfully
shook his head. He tried to nod acknowledgement as he angled his head back.
"I had hoped... I had hoped for truth, now, at least."
The resultant silence stretched on.
"'Doen, please! I love you!"
"Perhaps." Metthendoenn conceded. "Perhaps you do. But I am merely one
among many, it seems."
Metthendoenn opened pink-washed eyes on Ierwbae. "How am I different
from Bras?"
"I don't love Bras! I love you."
"I am not asking who you feel affection for, Ierwbae." The younger man
replied, coolly. His body remained stiff and ungiving. "How am I different
from Bras? Or Korlófierr?"
Ierwbae could not comprehend the turn their argument had
taken. "What?" Metthendoenn, motionless, gave him time to think. "I am not
going to discuss what I did or did not do with each one!"
Metthendoenn's tensed shoulders sagged. "Yes, you
are. Later. Ierwbae. Do you know how you are different from Bras, or
Korlófierr?" Metthendoenn's tone was light, conversational.
The Guard simply stared, nonplused.
"There are men I like the look of, but only one that I want to feel
beside me. Only one man I have ever needed beside me, needed to feel
against me." Metthendoenn turned his face down to the floor and
whispered. "Or... in me. There are men I talk readily and easily with, but
only one I bare my fears, my most precious and foulest memories, my
greatest embarrassments and gravest doubts to. You."
"I guess I was stupid again." Without effort, Evendal knew what the
young Guard meant by 'again'; 'I guess I was stupid again, like I was when
I got raped.' "I thought... I hoped I wasn't alone in how I felt."
Unguarded, a sob burst out - then, after a brief trembling, the
façade returned, the protective stillness. "How I feel."
"Metthen," Was all Ierwbae could think to say.
The younger Guard shook his head. Evendal could swear he heard the
neck creak. "Since how long ago, Ierwbae?" he asked again.
Ierwbae looked away, shamed at being caught in another lie, and
clearly threshing through his memory. "Once two years ago, three times a
year ago. Twice more this year."
As Ierwbae and Evendal watched, Metthendoenn's face changed, muscles
sagged. His eyes grew dull. Evendal had seen livelier expressions on dead
fish. The young man's entire body relaxed, jolted by another blow.
"Metthendoenn," Ierwbae began. Metthendoenn's spine stiffened, but the
older Guard pressed on.
"When I first thought to flirt with Korlófierr, I told myself it
was only a moment's pleasure. Just a bit of excitement, a small thrill. No
harm to anyone and meaningless. That it could not touch what we have. I
didn't want to think otherwise."
The convalescent Guard looked up at his mate, who quickly joined him
on the floor, a careful distance away. "And what think you now?" If Evendal
had not been so focused he would not have known Metthendoenn had spoken at
all.
"I know I have blighted something precious that we had. An... anchor
and shelter I can never hope to recover." Scowling, Ierwbae, stared at the
floor in concentration. "I told you I would love, cherish and pleasure only
you. And you believed me. More. You trusted my word in that, as you trusted
my word in all else. I never thought how you depend on my honesty, how you
have relied on it to secure your life after Plw-ra... after you were
raped. That fidelity is so much a part of how you see me, isn't it, Metth?
And my word, my honesty through these years, helped secure your life, your
view of things, didn't it?"
Metthendoenn gave no sign of concurrence or denial; that was a
vulnerability he could not talk about before any audience. "Can't you
just... go for now? Please?"
"No."
"Why?!" Metthendoenn's cry came from a gut in agony.
"If I do, it will be the second most stupid thing I would have ever
done. Now, tell me. Please?"
The younger Guard struggled through, with long pauses and many
stops. He did not want to think, he did not want to feel, he merely wanted
to hide somewhere. "You... You've never lied to me... before. That I know
of. Not even by keeping silent. But not only didn't you tell me, you
weren't going to tell me! And already I am wondering... Were you ever truly
on duty when you said you had Guard duty? Or were you off pillow-pounding?
If I...we keep our bond, how can I know you haven't found someone
else... thrilling to you?"
The younger Guard forced himself to stare at Ierwbae: a look that
still held no life in it. "And what about you? The first coherent thought
in my head, when you told me, was 'What could I have done? What didn't I
do?' Have I neglected you? Taken you for granted, 'Bae?"
"Thunders, no!" Ierwbae stammered, astonished. "No, Metthendoenn!
You. Your love has been the one constant in all this chaos and change!"
"As... your's has... had been. For me." The correction, the change in
tense, came out quickly, almost apologetic.
Ierwbae grated out. "I never thought how important... how enmeshed
everything is. How something so... so insignificant can prove so pivotal!"
Metthendoenn seemed almost amused, though his features remained
grim. "You have that wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"If it were really 'just a moment's pleasure', your own hand would
have served. You would not have gone to such lengths, accosting four
different people. Or been so secretive, so silent about it. You are lying
to yourself, there, not to me. And not to Lord Evendal. You knew the
significance of your actions from the start." Only tangentially noticed,
Evendal nodded.
With Metthendoenn refusing the gambit, the rationalisation, of
naivete, Ierwbae knew he had only one hope for any kind of
recapitulation. "Metthendoenn... Do you love me?"
Lightning-fast, Metthendoenn turned his head up, to stare off to his
right. "When I was recuperating, after our lord had visited... I never told
you... I had trouble thinking of reasons to wake up, most days." Carefully,
he dragged his head down, his eyes unfocused on his sodden lap.
Ierwbae sat up straight, and Evendal leaned forward, both alarmed. A
sleepy Kri-estaul simply nodded. Here was the first pronouncement he
understood completely. Kri-estaul warmed to his Uncle Metthendoenn,
surprised that anyone would be surprised. Then, once again, his drugged fog
took everything away for a time.
The young Guard spoke slowly, reluctantly. "Despite your best efforts,
I knew why Bruddbana had isolated me. Not that it mattered."
"How can you say that?"
Metthendoenn only looked more exasperated. "Ierwbae, there cannot be
a single Guard unaware that Plw-radch 'trained' me, with the help of his
cohort. My having been bound and helpless is seen as simply a sop to
propriety, the circumstance I needed to 'really enjoy it'. What little
honour my family name held could hardly survive that!"
"Oh, belovèd!"
Metthendoenn shrugged, and lumbered on. "My personal integrity and any
vestige of respect is ash. My family name - better forgotten than
remembered. I had compromised and rationalised my service to the duumvirate
for too many years, for a goal utterly hopeless from the first year. If you
had not been there, every day, making me think that you cared whether I
still breathed, it would have been easy to hoard the Priestess's powders
while I was bed-bound and poison myself." For the first time, Metthendoenn
looked utterly calm.
"No more, 'Doen!"
"I am trying to tell you. And, I guess, ask you. I love you. I was
willing to live on the illusion that you..." Hurting and shy, he couldn't
say it. "Using the... fancy that my death might hurt you deeply. Silly
reason, perhaps."
"Not so silly. Truth, 'Doen. Had you died, I would have died soon
after!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Metthendoenn saw a grim-faced Evendal
nod.
Ierwbae continued. "You must know, now, why I behaved as I did when
first you met His Majesty. Don't you recall?"
"Vaguely." Metthendoenn waved his hand again. "I was still
fevered. Exhausted. I thought you had challenged His Majesty..."
The older Guard spoke of Evendal in the third person, taking his cue
from his partner. Evendal well understood, and cared not at all. "'Doen, I
offered my life for your's, thinking him ready to arbitrarily execute
you. And I was in earnest."
Disdaining subtlety, Metthendoenn glanced at his liege, who nodded
confirmation again.
"Then, Ierwbae... Why? And what now? Have I become a burden for you?
Throughout all our days together I have demanded you focus the attractions
that you feel upon me alone. Do you wish yourself free of my expectations?
Do you? Do you wish to be free of 'us'? I admit right now that I don't see
how I could just leave you, but I may have to. My hopes and expectations
abide. But if I have your affection while others have you, I will strive to
cope. The worst part, though, is your silence and hypocrisy!"
Metthendoenn could think of nothing more to say, and Ierwbae seemed
content to let matters rest there. A long silence ensued. Having been
brought before the Royal Presence, it was for the King to dismiss them or
even grant them the right to advance or retreat. The King did neither.
"Ierwbae," Evendal called out after considerable time had passed. "You
are a cowardly, venal excuse for a man."
"Your Majesty!" Metthendoenn protested. His mate gave no protest.
"What would result, were you to accept Metthendoenn's accommodation to
your... whims?"
"After we discussed it further, I might find someone who attracts
me..."
Evendal did not let him finish his sentence, not wanting the
details. "And after Metthendoenn had deferred to your wishes, how would he
feel henceforth?"
After another long interval, Ierwbae
admitted. "Miserable. Regardless."
"Yes. Regardless. Which is what you have been, and continue to
be. Utterly without regard for a man who loves you as no one else. The
grief he gave you over Robiliam evidences how he also honours you, concerns
himself with your honour and peace of mind, as no one else does. You and I
both know what any such compromise would do to him. And you are willing to
let him remain utterly wretched for the sake of your 'moment's pleasures'!"
"No! I... Yes. I don't know!"
"That is a lie. Ierwbae, do you want Metthendoenn? Or do you want the
isolation and shallow feedings you knew before and pursue now? However it
may be for others, that's the only choice that loving him gives you. So,
Ierwbae. For the moment, not even considering what Metthendoenn wants... Do
you love him?"
A heartbeat after Evendal's words, their sense registered, and Ierwbae
looked again at a suddenly frightened Metthendoenn.
"I'm sorry, my love." The younger Guard whispered, visibly terrified
of the clarity in Ierwbae's eye. "I don't want to restrict you, to make
your life a windowless, doorless cell. He's right. I would try to adjust,
to reconcile myself, but... but I would be..."
"Shhh. I know, belovèd. I know. If I let you, you would destroy
yourself, for me. If we agreed to such, it would change the life we have,
so utterly that all the joy, and all the strength it gives me, would be
gone. Un-retrievable. But I love you. You above all else."
Metthendoenn had had enough. "That you care was never in question. Who
will you bed next?"
"You."
"And... And when you find someone whose looks distract you? Who
embodies a pleasure or excitement I do not?"
"You."
"And who else?"
"No one."
"And I am able to believe you because...?"
Ierwbae was silent.
"All this, it solves nothing, you know. And doesn't begin to compass
the rage I feel..."
Ierwbae nodded. "I know. And whatever you need to do. I have no rights
with you. I'll understand."
"Forget that nonsense! I do not want a breathing whipping-post! You
can be so infuriating at times! We'll see if you have that same humility in
a month's time, and us bedding like brother and sister!"
Ierwbae's mouth opened but no sound emerged, at first. "'Doenn!"
Metthendoenn did not smile in return. "Think on it. If you don't have
a clue as to why, then you really don't understand what you've done. The
feelings your duplicity has provoked." He stood slowly, relying on the
chair for support, his face suddenly pale with physical pain. "Now,
straining Your Majesty's further indulgence and with Your Majesty's
permission, I would beg leave to retire. But not before enquiring of my
kinsman." Ierwbae stood as well.
"Sygkorrin judges that all went well, and will continue to be well for
him." Evendal replied, suddenly anxious at the reminder.
"You mean me?" Came a querulous mumble. "I'm here."
"So you are," Metthendoenn responded. "How do you feel, nephew?"
"Sleepy. Stupid. My legs ache."
Metthendoenn paused only a breath. "They will for a little while."
"I thought they would be gone."
"They are, youngling. But for many their ghosts remain awhile. The
feeling will pass, and then come back at whim. And then pass again."
"Like that woman," Kri-estaul mumbled.
"What woman?" Evendal asked.
"The woman at Court." Kri-estaul explained helpfully.
Evendal presumed his son referred to Silk Distributor Goald-lek, of
the horrendous clothing and ridiculous ambitions.
"She's bad. Hates you, Uncle. Don't know why." And Kri-estaul dozed
again.
"That's the first I've heard of it!" Evendal whispered.
"He will talk lucidly to you for bells, Evendal, and never recall a
word he said, later. It is the nature of the sleeping gases he received."
The younger Guard assured. Ierwbae nodded confirmation.
"Ierwbae, it is not good for Onkira to remain in any part of the
Palace while We are ensconced here. She is dangerous even detained as she
is."
"What would you, Your Majesty?"
"We would deliver her to the same pleasures Tinde'keb endured. But
first, We would secure the High Priestess's sanction, of
course. Metthendoen, Nisakh. Have him brought to Us."
"As you wish. Your Majesty," Metthendoenn pleaded. "If I might retire
for a time, for some privacy?"
Evendal granted his leave with a nod. "The time is your's,
cousin. While the King may not be able to grant you every liberality, know
that you can come to Evendal as you want and need. This holds true for both
of you."
Metthendoenn's carriers must have been listening, for they entered,
this time with the same kind of pole and blanket arrangement as had
transported Kri-estaul.
"Thunders! I am not totally helpless!"
Evendal did not refute with the obvious. "Do you wish to abide here
for a while? Keep us company?"
Metthendoenn forced a clearly painful glance Ierwbae's way. "No, Your
Majesty. I need some time alone." The young Guard struggled to keep his
regained composure. "It would seem I have been alone for some time." He
murmured to himself, bitter. m'Alismogh heard, and was fairly certain
Ierwbae had heard as well. The older Guard opened his mouth, but said
nothing when Evendal shook his head in warning.
"Our heart and arms are always open to you. Our resources are your's."
Evendal bade him farewell.
"Ierwbae..."
"You need not say it. I know. I am an idiot! An oaf! Doing more damage
to him than Robiliam ever could!"
The King shook his head more vigourously. "Were you an idiot or an
oaf, We would not grant you audience, nor Our... Gift to serve you both in
your confession to him. When you pledged your service to Us, what purpose
did that serve? Are you a man of integrity? A man of your word?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. So I have always been, and striven to be."
"When you gave Metthendoenn your word, you ceased to be your own man,
you willfully gave away a freedom. Having given your word to him once, you
can be judged by that one time. But such a pledge is a decision that you
must repeat, in your heart and deeds, every day of your life. You failed to
do that, on at least six occasions. You failed in your word, Ierwbae."
Gently, Evendal explained. "Three years, Ierwbae. The life he thought
he was living had been a lie for three years. You neither forewarned him of
potential jeopardy, nor sought his understanding after your violation. You
treated him as a stranger, not trusting him as he trusted you. Grant him
time to grieve that. If he no longer loved you or wanted you, he would have
told you first thing. That is where he differs from you. And from myself:
He does not harbour angers, griefs, or ill-feeling. He is as honest and
transparent a man as ever I have met."
Evendal m'Alismogh ald'Menam y Wytthenroeg sat and examined his silent
and miserable friend and kinsman. "I do not understand." He finally
declared.
From beside him a voice piped up. "Neither do I." Evendal glanced down
into Kri-estaul's wide eyes. The boy was awake again.
"Perhaps I can help," a feminine voice interjected. "But only help."
Priestess Sygkorrin, looking clean but still careworn, stood outside
the doorway. The night before she had been garbed in unbleached
linen. Today she wore a more formal dress the white-blue of a pre-dawn sky
and a dark-green kirtle. Dark shadows yet burrowed under her eyes, and a
line or two peeked out along her cheekbones.
"Enter and be welcome." Evendal bade.
Ierwbae blanched and looked pleadingly at his liege.
"No." Evendal refused his vassal's clear desire to flee, not feeling
at all charitable. "Your Eminence, do you know what is toward?"
"I believe so. You wish to have us harbour your foster-mother during
your son's convalescence."
"Yes, but only with your leave."
"Given," Sygkorrin responded promptly.
"Also, you walked in on a delicate council. It seems that young
Ierwbae has been putting horns on Metthendoenn. An occasional practise over
the past three years. While this would normally not be a matter for royal
attention, as both involved are Guard it becomes relevant to Our
concerns. Their appearance has been such, their seeming contentment, that
the reason for Ierwbae's perfidy utterly eludes Us."
"And you woke up in the midst of this unfolding?" Sygkorrin addressed
a still sleepy Kri-estaul. The boy nodded.
"Then I say again. Perhaps I can help, but only help. Not resolve."
Sygkorrin glared pointedly at Ierwbae. "I know something of the memories
and anxieties that Metthendoenn wrestles with."
"But. How? He has never spoken... of it. Except to me." Ierwbae
swallowed hard at the reminder of the trust given him.
Sygkorrin, if she saw aught but curiosity, disclosed no hint of
it. "Not all who participated in Plw-radch's brutalities did so with a
light heart."
"A lot of good their... regret did him!"
"And what good is your regret doing him?" Evendal returned.
"Ierwbae, the matter is simple. It is not easy, but it is
simple. Nevermind what Metthendoenn wants or feels at this moment. I ask
you, only you... Which would you rather; the man you know Metthendoenn is,
or the excitement and variety available to someone un-mated?"
Evendal nodded, impressed with the disinterested phrasing; both
options described without prejudice. He felt himself too close to both men
to be as impartial as he needed to be. Sygkorrin, unknowing, reinforced
what Evendal had drawn out of Ierwbae earlier.
Ierwbae snorted in disgust. "What I imagine that 'variety' must be
like displays no similarities to how it actually is. So the answer is
easy. Metthendoenn."
Sygkorrin nodded, regally indifferent, as one granting a wish. "Then
that is a decision you must make every day of your life, because that is
the choice presented to you every day of your life. It is not a matter of
claiming both. One. Or the other. Never both. You know this is so; you just
choose to forget it. And by choosing to forget, or pretending that those
aren't the only choices, you choose to live un-mated. And faithless."
"I have been a fool."
Sygkorrin grimaced, and Evendal knew what she was thinking and voiced
it. "Stop that. If you are going to say anything like that, be honest and
precise. You were not a fool. You were cruel, and indifferent to
it. Thinking your 'brief pleasures' affected only you. More important is
what you will do about Metthendoenn."
"Where is Uncle 'Doenn?" Kri-estaul spoke up.
"At the Palace, resting."
"Do you love him, Uncle 'Bae?"
"Yes, Kri. You may not believe it, but I do."
The boy mumbled something that Evendal, close as he was, yet could not
hear.
"Uncle 'Bae, I don't understand."
The Guard swallowed hard, dreading the thought of explaining adult
misbehaviour to an eight-year-old. "What don't you understand, nephew?"
"Do you love Uncle 'Doen?"
"With all my heart, I love Uncle 'Doen."
"Then. Do you love someone else, too?"
"No. Not like that, not even Anlota."
"When you love someone like you love Uncle 'Doen, you plow each other?
Right? You play with each other's penises?"
Evendal and Ierwbae stared at each other in horror and helplessness,
the same thought evident on their faces. 'How do we explain this?' Neither
man thought of ignoring the question, nor of putting off answering on the
hope it would be forgotten. Evendal heard, in Kri's question, an echo of
his own query to Aldul, his second day home: 'Did your mother or
father... ever describe their sexual habits? ...criticise each other's
erotic talents or lacks to you?' A shiver ran through Evendal. The child
had suffered, repeatedly, the mechanics of the act of love. Like he himself
at that age, it was all Kri-estaul had to go by, his only criteria.
"We will try to explain some, but you will not comprehend much of what
we say until you are older." Evendal started.
"Hold your hand up." Ierwbae bade. Kri-estaul obeyed. The Guard set
his own hand flush against the child's. Ierwbae's hand spanned twice the
length of Kri-estaul's hand. "Now when you get as old as I, your hand will
be the same size as mine. It is the same for parts of your body inside you,
Kri. Parts that can give pleasure once you are adult. Can you imagine that
this is so?"
The child nodded, then, blushing, scrunched his face up in thought
when he realised Ierwbae would not settle for unthinking agreement. His
uneasiness shone through his face; he knew where the discussion headed. "I
don't want to."
"We know, Kri." Evendal soothed. "What Ierwbae said is true for both
girls and boys, Kri. When you are an adult, many parts of your body will
act differently than they do now. That is not a bad thing, either."
"So, Nisakh and the Most... Beast, did they know I wasn't grown up
enough to like getting plowed?"
"They knew that 'plowing' you would give you pain. That is why they
did it."
"How can anyone...? It was the worst! It wouldn't go away! And I kept
bleeding... When I shat, it hurt all over again! And bled more! I hated
it!" Kri-estaul looked at Ierwbae in confusion and disbelief, for a moment
not really seeing him. Kri-estaul gripped Evendal's arm tightly. Slowly,
staying in the child's field of vision, Evendal leaned forward and kissed
Kri's forehead. "I am right here, my son." he whispered.
"Kri," Evendal began. "You know that Nisakh did not love you. Right?"
"Yes, I know. Why?"
Ierwbae answered. "Some evil people try to convince those they hurt
that what they do is love."
"Like... what the Most...Beast and Nisakh did to me? Sometimes I
think... If I had been what they wanted..."
"It was all lies. They would still have hurt you and starved you and
belittled you. You are a child and a citizen, and they treated you as a
t'bo. You were a good boy! The only thing you need to know now is that none
of us would 'plow you,' even if you were to ask. You will never be so
mistreated again. Never!"
Kri-estaul was not going to be distracted. "Do you do that? To Uncle
'Doenn?" he asked, thinking that could explain some of Metthenoenn's upset.
Evendal could see the sweat collect on Ierwbae's furrowed hairline. "I
will not tell you what we do, Kri-estaul. That is not for you to know. Just
accept that your uncle and I love each other and give each other pleasure
any way that we both enjoy."
Kri-estaul took Ierwbae's demurring for concession. "You do it to
Uncle 'Doen. Why?"
Ierwbae sagged back down on a pew, defeated in his attempt at
delicacy. "No, Kri. I don't do that to your Uncle 'Doenn. It scares him,
rightly. But it is an adult pleasure, enjoyed by some adults..."
Both Ierwbae and Evendal could see Kri-estaul think hard over the
answers they gave. "Then why did you plow someone else?" The child asked in
all innocence, scurrying from his own ghosts but using the language they
gave him.
"With Your Majesty's permission..." Sygkorrin tendered, amusement in
her voice.
Ierwbae turned pale again, and bowed to the High Priestess Sygkorrin.
"Granted, Your Eminence."
"Kri-estaul, what is your favourite thing in all the world?" Sygkorrin
asked.
"Papa holding me."
Realising her error, she tried again. "That's good. But when you were
alone and scared, what helped you feel better?"
"I don't know."
Sygkorrin smiled. "Yes, you do. When you were hurting, or really
scared, what did you do?"
"I tried to hide, or apologise. Sometimes I'd curl up in a ball."
"So you try to escape the pain, or the punisher, right?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever imagine that you weren't there hurting, but were in your
sister's arms instead?"
She was asking about his dreams? "No. The Most... The Beast lied, told
me she hated me. It was always Papa. Papa holding me, so I was safe
again. Even when I was bad."
"Kri-estaul," Evendal interrupted. "I can get it in writing if I
must. There was not a moment, either up here or down in the Undergrounds,
when you were bad. Ever."
Sygkorrin nodded her agreement. "Its true, dear child. But, sometimes,
a person can get confused. Can end up thinking, 'Getting anyone to hug me
is what I need all the time,' when they are only the slightest bit hurt or
scared. And they can't stop that thought, that habit. Seeing a want as a
need." She paused to make sure Kri-estaul's eight-year-old mind at least
acknowledged the difference.
"They cannot stop... not without help, not without people who care
keeping a watchful eye and ear. They cannot stop... unless that needy
person lets those who love him know what is going on in his mind." Her face
was set toward Kri-estaul. But her eyes and words were directed toward a
still miserable Ierwbae.
"Is that...? Isn't that what a friend does?" Kri-estaul stared with
saucer-sized eyes into the face of the Priestess.
"That is what a friend does, yes. Give the best advice they can, be
the eyes and ears for the one they love, and the guarding or guiding hand
as well. It is also what family can do. Can do." she emphasized the adverb.
"Bruálta and I are friends." The child informed
Sygkorrin. "But... Why not just play with Uncle 'Doenn's penis some more? I
saw. Uncle 'Doenn was crying because Uncle 'Bae had kissed and plowed
someone else, or played with someone else, and not him."
Ierwbae, red-faced, answered that one. "It is not something even
adults can endure all the time, child. And often your Uncle 'Doenn gets
reminded of when he had been treated badly, like you were. Then he feels
only fear, not pleasure."
"I'm tired. Uncle 'Bae?"
"Yes, Kri-estaul."
"You had better find Uncle 'Doenn."
Evendal interceded. "Uncle 'Doenn needs some quiet time, Kri."
"Not anymore, he doesn't. He... will need Uncle Bae, real soon."
If Evendal had not been looking down at his son, he would have given
no weight to the child's words. Kri-estaul's eyes had shifted, the pupils
enlarging and focusing on something other than his surroundings. Evendal
was about to reply, when he felt the truth of his son's statement rush
through him. His alarm showed on his face, alerting both Ierwbae and
Sygkorrin. "Quick! Where would he be?"
Seeing Evendal's expression change from indulgent concentration to
alarm sent a rush of dread through Ierwbae. "Our apartments?" he suggested.
"You can look." The King replied. And Ierwbae rushed out.
"What else are you thinking, child?"
"That Uncle 'Doenn is not there. But I don't know where he is. I just
know he needs Uncle 'Bae. If Uncle 'Bae truly loves him."
"This is what I strove to prevent!" Evendal fumed. Kri-estaul,
wide-eyed, shook his head.
"I don't understand, Papa."
"I had hoped Metthendoenn would take some comfort that Ierwbae
sincerely did want to be as he himself was. And not do something
desperate."
"Oh. I still don't understand. What would Uncle 'Doen do?"
"Kill himself."
"No, Papa. Not Uncle 'Doenn."
And, in a moment of almost physical vertigo, the King understood. An
enemy! Up until today, Metthendoenn had not been a vulnerable convalescent;
different people had accompanied him almost relentlessly. The first days
after Abduram's death, Metthendoenn had suffered a detail of Guards. After
that, Ierwbae, Aldul, or Sygkorrin had been tending him, along with friends
and well-wishers. Evendal had been a regular attendant, gleaning
Metthendoenn's impressions of courtiers and his memory of events. The one
time when everyone's attention had been directed to an external threat,
Metthendoenn, as Evendal's deputy, had a constant escort of Guard. Now he
had given over primacy in the Palace to Bruddbana, to grant Metthendoenn
some privacy. And isolation.
"Kri-estaul," Evendal asked. "You say he needs Uncle 'Bae - so long as
Uncle 'Bae loves him?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Uncle 'Bae's a Guard." Kri-estaul answered as if that explained
everything. And for a child haunted by the very sight of Guard livery,
perhaps it did. If Ierwbae did not love Metthendoenn, Kri-estaul did not
want Guard Ierwbae near 'Uncle 'Doenn.'
"So is Uncle 'Doenn."
"Papa," Kri-estaul sounded testy. "Uncle 'Doenn is better than that!"
"They really hurt you, didn't they?"
"Your Majesty," Both Evendal and Sygkorrin turned. Mar-Depalai bowed,
his face grim and tense.
"Forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty, Your Highness, but matters have
turned rather confused. Is Metthendoenn here in the Temple?"
Evendal's gut clenched. "He is not at the Palace, where two Guard were
escorting him?"
Mar-Depalai frowned. "The escort reported in, to Bruddbana, having
left him in his rooms. He is no longer there. Earlier this morning, a Guard
reported seeing Hielan-Plwa inside the Palace grounds. But no one else
reported seeing him."
The Guard looked at Evendal as if that name should have meant
something. "Who is Hielan-Pelua?"
"Kin to Guard Plw-radch, of lamentable memory."
Evendal scowled.
"What about the woman?" Kri-estaul asked, the name meant nothing to
him.
"Mar-Depalai bowed. "Health to you, Your Highness. How is it with
you?"
"I'm tired. And worried."
The Guard nodded. "What woman?"
"The woman who kept staring at Uncle 'Bae and Uncle 'Doenn during the
last Court. Lots of dark hair, like a fountain. She's bad. Scary."
"My lord. I only came to confirm whom you left as your steward in the
Palace. Metthendoenn or Bruddbana?"
"Well," Evendal replied tartly. "Until you can find Metthendoenn, We
would suppose it's to be Bruddbana!"
Evendal stared down at his son, grim-faced.
"Papa?"
The King's eyes glowed brighter.
"Papa!"
I ask it, I don't command.
I only ask. You understand?
Father of my fathers, I need you.
"Are you sure?" the pleasant tenor inquired. Sygkorrin started when a
man suddenly appeared complete and solid near the window. "My help is
seldom without consequence."
"A kinsman stands in mortal danger, somewhere on the Palace grounds."
"Not the pretty lad?"
Evendal nodded.
"And the assailant?"
"More than one. A woman Kri-estaul saw, that no one else noticed, with
hair teased high. And a kinsman of one who had raped him."
As Evendal described the problem, Surnmeddil grew less substantial, so
that Sygkorrin could see the molding at the base of the window through his
figure. Briefly, he became solid again.
"And what of his spouse? The stench of guilt envelops him!"
"Not blood-guilt. Another matter entirely."
The stranger nodded, but Sygkorrin could mark an angry gleam in his
colourless eye.
"Greetings, old heart." Sygkorrin found herself saying.
"Greetings and health to you, Mistress of Minds."
Testily, Evendal made introductions. "Lady Sygkorrin, Mar-Depalai, I
present Surn-meddil, late ruler of the Thronelands. My lord Surn-meddil, I
present the current High Priestess of the Archate, Sygkorrin. And I present
Mar-Depalai, Guard in Our service."
"I have had the pleasure of watching you in the performance of some of
your duties, Your Eminence. It is an honour to finally meet and greet you."
"The honour is mine, to address someone of your age and majesty."
"Great-papa, please! Uncle 'Doenn is in trouble!" Kri-estaul
interrupted.
The spectre's expression had been politely amused during the
pleasantries. As Kri-estaul drew his attention, Surn-meddil's face changed
utterly. All emotion disappeared; the lines about the brow, and the lines
from the nose to the mouth, vanished. The eyes that earlier had seemed so
reflective and colourless, pellucid, turned blacker than a funereal pit.
"I've found them." Surn-meddil announced.
The spectre turned his mask-like face to Sygkorrin. "Priestess, you
will be needed." He turned back to Evendal and Kri-estaul. "Here? Or
there?"
"There," the King decided. "All concerned."
Evendal could have given an oath that he did not blink, yet his next
sight was of a dusk-laden forest. An autumnal chill lightly touched the
air. Kri-estaul no longer lay beside Evendal, but rather lay wrapped in
blankets in Surn-meddil's arms. "Forefather...!"
"Peace, child. The Thronelands could be consumed by your Swordbrother,
and still I would not permit harm to come to this child."
Evendal looked about, but all he saw was a stunned Sygkorrin and a
grove of trees leafing out-of-season. Mar-Depalai had been left behind at
the Temple. Then his eyes adjusted to the twilight, and Evendal saw the
smoothness he had taken for a patch of mud to be a body in dark
blue. "Metthendoenn!"
Sygkorrin and Evendal rushed to the inert mound. "Lord Evendal, his
poor face!"
"Nevermind that. Look for serious wounds."
With the care and economy of experience, Sygkorrin straightened
Metthendoen's limbs as she examined him. "Those shit-eating maggots!
Offspring of weasels and pigeons!"
"What?"
She had lifted an arm. Snarling, Sygkorrin pointed to the blood and
litter covered wrist. "They cut at his radial artery, rather than simply
puncture it. They may have severed the tendons of the abductor. It looks
like they wanted him to suffer. But they chose the wrong arteries for
exsanguination. Even sliced rather than punctured, his body formed a
hematoma. But the pointless butchery!"
Were the sight not so gruesome, Evendal might have felt some amusement
at a pedant's outrage being expressed. The Guard's clothes had been left on
him, hiding the cuts made on his thighs and calves and the delicate ones
made at the base of his neck. "What were they thinking? That they had time
to waste? Where are they?"
"I have them well in hand, if a bit late in gripping them."
Surn-meddil spoke out of the gloam. Off in the distance, the King heard the
crunch of shod feet on twigs.
"Is there no better place to examine him?" The Priestess asked.
"They were stupid enough to drag him into my domain. This is best
until 'His Majesty' determines how safe he is."
"There's a question." Evendal agreed. "Surn-meddil, Guard, if you
would."
"Who do you think sound so like boars on a rampage? Your Guard,
skirting the edges of Kh'anderif. How many?" The sky was gradually
lightening into dawn, colours were deeper and edges more certain.
"Six and three rugs." Evendal directed. The blankets arrived, folded,
at Metthendoenn's bare feet. "And those responsible?"
Leaf-fall swirled up in an elf-lock, propelled by a consistent force
of wind. When the wind died, a man and a woman stood rooted, their legs
buried to above the knees. The woman had a mass of long dark hair, one lock
of which was wrapped around her face like a gag or a bit for a horse.
"Plw-radch's kinsman? And who might the other be?"
Like a live creature, the lock of hair wiggled out of the woman's
mouth. "Is he dead yet?"
Diverted, Evendal glanced at the High Priestess. Sygkorrin stared
back. "No!" she drawled. "You did not have enough time to even come close
to your intentions."
"Their intentions?"
"The death of 'one thousand knives and ten thousand pieces' is what it
is called." Sygkorrin clarified, as she glared at the planted
woman. "Small, insignificant cuts that cumulatively cause death by blood
loss. One of the slowest ways to kill, other than by poison and
crucifixion."
As the priestess finished speaking a number of Guard appeared from out
of the trees. "Your Majesty!" Brualta called out. "Is it truly you? Your
Highness?"
"Health, Brualta. How fares the Palace, in Our absence?"
"Rejoicing and ready to see the return of its masters. Even your short
expedition seems to have left the Guard in disarray. Is Metthendoen or
Ierwbae present?"
"Brualta, we need the help of your good main, and that of your
fellows, to gently assist Metthendoenn back to the Palace."
Surn-meddil interrupted. "Child, I could do that for you, to anywhere
but the Temple grounds."
"We felt we had imposed enough..." Evendal began, but stopped when
Surn-meddil's semblance shook his head. "Our thanks. So, Brualta, Ierwbae
has gone missing?"
"After raising the hue and cry. Yes. My lord, what happens here?"
Brualta indicated the two struggling captives.
Evendal grinned mirthlessly. "The reason for Ierwbae's concern and
Metthendoenn's condition. Hielan-Plwa and his accomplice."
The King turned to Sygkorrin. "Grandfather, please place Metthendoenn
in Our quarters for now. Your Eminence, please take however many Guard
appropriate to your need and see to his care." The High Priestess curtsied
and left with two Guard. Four Guard remained. Kri-estaul lay asleep in
Surn-meddil's arms still.
"Uaestrho, I would approach." Evendal warned, and did so. Once he was
beside Surn-meddil and staring down into his son's hollow-eyed face Evendal
m'Alismogh sang sotto voce.
Let none come near Us but to help,
None come near you, son, but to heal.
Malice and threats turn aside,
Weapons fail and enemies kneel.
The King turned to the strugglers. "Woman, how are you called?"
"Vengeance!"
Evendal sighed. "Vengeance for whom?"
"A brother whose only crime was faithfulness to the wrong ruler." The
woman's voice held passion and assurance, yet to Evendal's ear it held an
echo, a thin timbre that he had learned to associate with falsity. A face
emerged out of his tired mind: Aquiline nose in the air, sophomoric
attempts at hauteur. A man whose crime was not faithfulness to a ruler but
rather idolatry and imitation of a ravening brutish force given human form.
"Robiliam was your brother?" Evendal hissed, aghast.
Tell me now,
And tell me true,
Or make each breath,
A need you'll rue.
"How are you called?"
"Emmriab, foul idiot!"
"What was your aim?"
"The suffering and death of Ierwbae and Metthendoenn."
"And your means? Did you truly think he would not be missed?"
"So long as you were diverted with your son, and Bruddbana with
quelling the outbreak. Yes."
Evendal paused, bemused. "What outbreak?"
"The threat of revolt among the Guard that this oaf here was to have
arranged."
The King laughed.
"You mock us?" The man spoke up. "I received more counsel and
willingness than I had ever anticipated. All I can suppose is that..." He
hesitated, but the King's compulsion prevailed. "that Henhyroc felt the
assault was jeopardised in some way. Beware and be wary. You have many
dissatisfied vassals, freakish usurper!"
Still Evendal smiled. "You received advice and perceived a
willingness, Hielan-Plwa, because mere talk of subversion is not
punishable. Until this hour, you had done nothing seditious. The Guard
still holding their commission do so out of their goodwill toward Us and
toward just rule. Also, we treat Our friends with liberality, and that
tends to ensure their devotion. Whereas you could feed them only with
words."
"Instead of countering the shameful legacies of both of your brothers,
you two sought to exceed them. That is, perhaps the only regret I feel
here: That you chose to waste the gifts given you, of life and passion."
Emmriab whimpered. The King looked at her averted gaze, her slouching
form and poorly suppressed sniveling and sighed yet again. "You have no
right!" the woman insisted.
"No right to defend those pledged to me? No right to bring solace to
the law-abiding? To those of goodwill and honourable intent? To punish
those whose will and willfulness would supercede everyone else's? Both of
you sought to 'avenge'..." Evendal imbued the word with irony. "...your
cowardly and honourless siblings on those who had suffered from their
excesses."
"And so we will be executed." Hielan-Plwa concluded. Evendal ald'Menam
did not answer.
"Father of my fathers," Evendal began, suddenly short of
breath. "Return to me what is mine!"
Surn-meddil's stare strove to bore holes into Evendal's. "What do you
speak of?"
The King was not intimidated. "He is not your's to claim! Regardless
of his transgressions, he is yet Our vassal. His punishment or amendment is
Metthendoenn's, not your's."
"If that child dies, this fool killed him!" Suddenly Ierwbae stood
between Evendal and Surn-meddil's apparition, clearly unable to move.
Evendal shook his head. "Granted. But if Metthendoenn does die, be
assured that Ierwbae will not be breathing for long. Are We correct,
Ierwbae? Return his liberty to him, Father of Our Fathers."
The young Guard dropped to his knees in the dirt and clutched
Evendal's ankles. It was all Evendal could do not to kick him
reflexively. "Your Majesty!" Ierwbae pleaded, shivering from more than
cold. "Where is he? Brand me, tattoo me, castrate me. At this point I care
not at all! But I have been in an agony of fear. Where is he?"
"He is not well, Ierwbae. But is under Sygkorrin's eye at this
time. The Archate has had little rest from Us. We are not gentle with Our
friends, it would seem. Arise. Do you recognise either miscreant here?"
Ierwbae obeyed. "The woman looks familiar, as one I may have passed in
the halls. The man, not at all."
"The woman is one Kri-estaul mentioned after your flight earlier. He
had seen her as a hanger-on in Our Court recently. Robiliam, it would seem,
had a sister he let live. Hight Emmriab."
"Emmriab? She fled from us when we hunted for her." Ierwbae looked
confused. "Your Majesty, Emmriab was his wife."
The King looked at the woman, who, unable to elicit pity, now
presented a proud, cool demeanor. "Why are We not surprised?" he asked
rhetorically.
"Hielan-Plwa, as We understand it, your brother was a Guard in service
to the interregnum. Who chose to treat a Guard-trainee as his personal
whore, whipping-post, and commodity he could pimp. Contemptuous of his
ward, treating him as property he could degrade and physically destroy."
"I won't believe it. I don't care how things look."
Evendal frowned, troubled. "Your choice of words is telling. You have
set your will to deny truth. For as We also understand it, he himself
boasted of his mis-treatment. Ierwbae gallantly served your brother what
justice was possible." The Guard raised his eyebrows in alarm that his
liege knew of his unheralded revenge, but Evendal's face held no censure.
"While not wishing to seem predictable, We are well aware of the debt
We owe to you, Father of Our Fathers. Would two others serve as sufficient
consolation?"
"Both of them?" Surn-meddil sounded pleasantly surprised.
"One assaulted Metthendoenn in your domain, you are welcome to
her. The other one is Ours, however."
"How do you determine that?"
Evendal looked surprised that Surn-meddil needed to ask. "He sought to
play the sport of kings, the games of power, using Our Guard."
"Then you offer just the one?" Surn-meddil's brow lowered in
annoyance.
"Wait on Us but a moment." Evendal bade, then turned to a fretful
Ierwbae.
"Can you discipline yourself to obey the will of the Archate, were We
to let you loose? Or will you act like a morningstar in a glassblower's
shop, once you are near Metthendoenn? He is in a bad way. No hysterics, no
histrionics. No art or high emotion."
After a breath's pause, Ierwbae answered. "I can only do what is my
best in this hour."
The King nodded. "Metthendoenn, despite all, needs you now. But he
needs you thinking. Let Her Eminence know We have said this. Go." And
Ierwbae was fled.
After a shoulder slumping sigh, Evendal bent over and stroked
Kri-estaul's forehead.
"Kri, my son. Can you attend for a moment?"
Eyes still closed, Kri-estaul murmured. "I've been listening,
Papa... 'the sport of kings'."
The King grinned. "Yes, my boy. Would you object to my relinquishing
your prisoner to Surn-meddil?"
That opened Kri-estaul's eyes; just. "I don't need to watch him die?"
Evendal shuddered, wondering where his mind had been when he had
suggested that. He realised now that the actual sight would not have been
as troubling for Kri-estaul as his anticipation and dread of it. "No, dear
boy. You never needed to."
"Good. Then, I don't want him." The child dozed for a moment. "Is that
good? Is that good for you, grand-papa?"
"Yes. Thank you for letting me take care of him for you, beloved."
Surn-meddil answered. "Rest well, m... Your Highness. He shall not trouble
you hence."
"Father of Our Fathers, how shall you serve that one?" Evendal asked,
referring to Nisakh.
"I am uncertain. Would he prove more valuable to me as part of a briar
or a poplar tree?" Evendal first thought this gallows-humour, until he saw
the elder's seriously speculative expression.
"And Emmriab?"
"A tallow tree." Surn-meddil replied decisively.
Though disturbed, Evendal dared not recant his 'generosity' toward his
forbearer. "We wish you joy of them, Father of Our Fathers. May they serve
you better than they served themselves. Would you, of your kindness, set
Our son in Our apartments, after We have arrived there."
"I could take you both there..."
Evendal vehemently shook his head. "Such transport I would leave to
those who need it. It unsettles me. I could do with a moment of my own even
as you could enjoy some moments with my son, who has championed your
cause. Likewise, this gives Kri-estaul some rest-time without the
ubiquitous Guard around him."
"Sound reasons all," Surn-meddil replied, a smile threatening to split
his countenance. So long as Kri-estaul has no objection..."
"Noooo..." Kri-estaul answered uncertainly.
"Kri, I could hardly carry you in your poor-health. While Surn-meddil
can do so ably and safely. And I am headed home straightly, nowhere else."
Kri-estaul looked up blearily at an all but glowing Surn-meddil. "It
is well." He decided.
And Evendal hoped it was.