Date: Sun, 12 Mar 2006 17:24:40 -0800 (PST)
From: Kris Gibbons <bookwyrm6@yahoo.com>
Subject: SongSpell-40

This story is a work of fiction. It contains references to both sexual and
violent behaviour, along with expressions of physical affection. 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 and uncanny.

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 onto any other site without the direct
consent of the author.

I do not know how well-received these chapters are. The only clues I get
are in emails from readers. Do you like the story? Hate it? Have liked it
since its emergence? Feel it is getting too obsessive? Think Evendal should
take a vow of silence? Hoping I have written other works? Let me know.

I can be contacted at Bookwyrm6@yahoo.com

Special thanks to Rob for editing.

Copyright 2003 Kristopher R. Gibbons. All rights reserved by the author.



                        40 Growing to a Pleurisy


               Claudius: Not that I think you did not love your father;
               But that I know love is begun by time;
               And that I see, in passages of proof,
               Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
               There lives within the very flame of love
               A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;
               And nothing is at a like goodness still;
               For goodness, growing to a pleurisy,
               Dies in his own too much.

                             Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 7, lines 110-118


     Evendal ald'Menam blinked twice in surprise and nodded gravely at the
young brine-neck. "Do you come before Us in peace?"
     Limmal remained on his knee, his head bowed to hide his
countenance. "I come in grief, Your Terrible Majesty. I have just happened
upon word of my only kinsman's death, and the manner of it."
     "We acknowledge freely how We are the principal cause for your
dolour," the King admitted, with no lift to his voice as would indicate he
felt anything but regret. "And so We ask again. Do you come clemently
before Us?"
     "No. If words be weapons, I am most grossly armed. Wherein the fault,
shell-crowned(247) Majesty, that you did deliver up a man grown old in our
kingdom's service? A pelican to the blood-hungry Throne and lands? How
could you deliver him to the masses, which care not who they can charge for
their miseries? Where is the Bill of Attainder? Did you even bother with
such a perjury? Was there no one to put fetters to the free-footed exercise
of your rage? Did no one seek to shield my uncle, a man of magnanimous
austerity and grace?"
     Evendal waited for more, but Limmal had fallen silent. "Has the pier
given you answer, earnest petitioner? You stare at it so fiercely. If you
address another, look upon him as you speak."
     The young man raised his tawny head, the planes of his face sharp with
taut muscles, upon which his nose looked half-formed. "Your Majesty is the
crow to which my questions fly." Limmal's eyes focused on the seated
Karondeo, then moved to the King standing beside his captain. "Your
eyes... Master Malismogh?"
     "Did every one of the crew know Us so?"
     "If you bore any other name, we knew it not. Sygkorrin insists you are
the prince lost at Mausna known as Evendal."
     "How many years have you?"
     "I bear twenty years, Your Majesty."
     "Then We would not have been acquainted with you before Mausna."
     "No, Your Majesty. My uncle tendered my very breath, lest mischance
stop it. None of the Court knew of me. He, in fear for my life, sent me to
the borders of our knowledge. Alta. And thus to your rough mercies."
     "Your hand was gentler than mine would have been," Karondeo
interjected. "He did not match Hyreadal for skills or ambition."
     Limmal said nothing, though his face showed he desired to respond.
     "Of what do you both speak? Was there some matter between us in Alta?"
     "Four years back, when Swan Song first sought cartage in Altan waters,
Limmal mortally wounded one of my crew. You sometimes held authority over
Oseidh affairs there and arbitrated the matter."
     "To what resolution?"
     "My enslavement," Limmal insisted. "Was I so forgettable, Your
Majesty?"
     Karondeo countered, "His indenture under my authority, with
considerations to ensure his safety. He made no protest of his guilt."
     Limmal bridled hotly, "The dastard persisted in demands against my
person."
     "Dastard? What demands?"
     "He made a mock of my name, my antecedents, spoke to me as if to a
molly(248) op' for hire."
     "And for that you killed him?"
     "No, Your Majesty. When no one came to my aid, I killed him for
striving to impose his body, his will, and his fancies upon me."
     Karondeo had no reply.
     "We hear the truth of your words, good Limmal," Evendal allowed.
     Limmal did not let the opportunity pass. "Then grant me truth in
return, Your Majesty."
     The King nodded his accession. "Our truth is that your uncle, though
wise in so many matters, chose to gain primacy by plotting for Our father's
murder in the midst of battle. To that end he employed the offices of the
Militia-General to strategically distance the King's protectors. He also
employed a maverick -- Abduram agdh'Lukaad -- who offered your uncle both
the original plan and his services."
     "Can Your Majesty prove what you report is indeed Time's daughter?"
     "His own speech betrayed him, accomplished without the impetus of
deception or torture. As did the self-implications of Gres-lauri and
Pylan-drest, Lord Menam's Militia General and Militia Comptroller. We also
impelled him to disclose his intention to usurp all authority in Arkedda
and Kwo-eda.
     "We delivered him up to the people he most persistently
wronged. Should you choose to abide, you shall learn details of the
infamies your uncle did resort to for the sake of his ambitions. The Bill
of Attainder was writ, and then amended twice as more was
learned. Distemper in the Palace archives, among such parasites as the
duumvirate fed, made the fashioning of several copies necessary.
     "You will be indifferently gratified to hear that Polgern had a
champion at Our first Court."
     "What was he called? What became of him?"
     "Folks did hight him Emial of Kernost, and while girding your uncle in
the raiment of probity before all, he had his son and heir attack Us. Our
Guard usurped the heir's life and cut short his career of infamies. We, in
turn, commanded Emial's death and he died. Such were the champions of your
uncle's honour."
     Karondeo sat and listened in silence up to this moment. Evendal took
note of an untroubled but bemused expression on the seaman's face. "What
would you?"
     "I am in a fervour of admiration. Whatever your debilities, you are my
Malismogh, the lack for which I have felt this long season."
     Evendal could not think what to respond, and so did not. He turned
back to Limmal, and noted, in the periphery of his sight, the emergence of
Surn-meddil and Kri-estaul from around the side of the tent. With deceptive
grace, the spectre bowed, to all appearances keeping firm hold of his
charge. Kri-estaul made no move, gave no indication he wanted out of the
cradle of Surn-meddil's making.
     The King addressed Limmal. "On first perusal Our judgement seems
salutary for all. You had productive labour under protective eyes. Those
who failed to lend you aid had daily reminder of their ethical failure, for
it was their inaction that resulted in their mate's death."
     "He did not need to kill the fool," Karondeo suggested.
     The King shook his head. "Were a person to indisputably and most
immediately threaten Our life or integrity, We would not permit that fellow
breath to threaten a second time. Stand, good Limmal."
     The young man complied.
     "It is the fashion of those uncertain of their authority to ascribe
every manner of vice or crime to their adversaries, especially once they
are conquered and rendered mute. For one such as Abduram, that is easily
done. But for your uncle We rightly hesitate. You knew him as a caring
man?"
     "Not a man of affectioned gestures or sweet words, Your Majesty. Yet
he suffered my temper and fears, saw to my care from my tenth year, my
education in logic, letters, and manners. He would act promptly upon any
report of a sniffle, before the echo of that account's first word had faded
from the room. I loved him and feared for him. With cause."
     Evendal bowed his head as one honouring Limmal's grief. "We Ourselves
recall a man who permitted a woefully ignorant heir to assail him with the
questions of the unseasoned. Who answered with all the gravity of a man
granting serious consideration. If he thought me a clotpoll(249), I never
knew of it. He was a pillar, a constant of my youth. But he harboured and
nurtured longings that near destroyed the kingdom even as he sought to
extend its bounds. His avarice overreached his ability, Limmal. His
aspirations killed, beggared, and betrayed Our people. That is the truth of
Polgern, good and bad, kind and indifferent co-mingled."
     Limmal gave no reply.
     "So We ask yet a third time, Limmal of Osedys, do you come before Us
in amity?"
     "'Twas my intent upon first arrival, Your Majesty, and endures. I
cannot, in verity, tender more assurance."
     "Then for clarity's sake, We advise you to seek out, under Our aegis,
the Protector of the Eastern Dark, the Lord Tinde'keb, Master Alekrond or
Shenrowyn agdh'Rowylno himself." Evendal noted movement behind Limmal, and
gestured him to turn. "Or the Madame Melianth olm'Shenrowyn, just arrived;
she doubtless has much to say on the matter of your uncle. For a more
complete and ordered accounting of Polgern's misdeeds We can acquaint you
with Kohermarthen Drussilikh, Matron of the Scriveners, standing to
Counsellor Melianth's right."
     "You have an impressive cluster of witnesses, Your Majesty. But I
suspect that, given their estate's inherent antagonism toward autarchy,
they can testify only to my uncle's ruthlessness -- a necessity against
their society's tendency to claim powers the Throne traditionally holds."
     "Then, if he is willing, We will introduce you to Estalevrh
agdh'Falnohlef, blinded before Polgern for voicing his dissent in a Court
Res Publica."
     "He espoused sedition? Insurrection? Revolt?"
     Evendal exposed another mirthless grin. "He persisted in amending some
of your uncle's more faulty declarations, recapitulating baldly
misremembered judgements and bills, and correcting his assertions about the
consequences of his co-rule.
     "A woman We mentioned, the Protector of the Eastern Dark, can
illuminate for you your uncle's tendency to claim her territories -- which
have never been a part of Our kingdom. His continued primacy nearly turned
an ally into a mortal enemy. Master Heamon, formerly a man of Our Guard,
emissary for the Cinqet, can acquaint you with your uncle's more personal
malfeasance. As, We are given to understand, can Guard Kinmeln as well. No
Limmal, we would not corrupt what you knew of your uncle, but he sought
more harm than good, more conquest than concord. And so We delivered him up
to those people most severely press-ganged and assailed by him.
     "Detail to Us where you take residence, and We will provide you
letters requesting that those We have named assist you to the extent you
can endure. You have Our grace to leave, remain, or follow Us back to the
Palace, as you will."
     Limmal bowed. "With you would I go, Your Majesty, to learn yet what
portion the heir of a regicide can expect."
     With evident trepidation, Evendal looked down at Karondeo. "How am I
to deal with you?"
     The seaman flinched as if slapped, but then riposted. "Have you been
honest?"
     Evendal's back stiffened in surprise. "Yes, though I did not know
wherefore. Why that question first among all others?"
     "You do not recall me, nor even that I existed to perform such duties
as you found yourself yearning for. With the bedizened, influence-hungry
court of Osedys before you and no memories to check you, how could you not
seek there for that which you felt the lack of?"
     "You do not understand. And what of you?"
     Tears threatening his cheeks, Karondeo glared at his King and spat out
a reply. "Four sennights after you... left, I sought out consolation for my
bed."
     The King said nothing at first, the skin about his chin crinkling as
his lips curved down, even as his cold-blanched skin turned whiter
still. Then his brow bunched in bewilderment. "Why do you lie to me? Did
you want what you said to be truth?"
     Karondeo had had his fill of politesse. "You left! I had to endure the
season with a mystery and grief I now find you were free of! And all I had
was memory and uncertainty! No one knew what had become of you! You left
with no word, no hint! We could only assume you were dead. That they had
mobbed you! I do not know how many times I fought the urge to set fire to
the whole Port of Alta. I refrained. I fancied drowning myself in nepenthe
and the flesh of the willing. I did neither. There was naught I could do to
any purpose.
     "Evendal," he whispered the name, gripping his own hair. "I feared you
dead, and all your beauty lost to me. Once that fancy found safe harbour, I
did greatly tax the ship's store of ale and my crew's love for me."
Karondeo released his head and hugged himself, carefully pressing his
forearms across a long abrasion. "I suffered griefs you were spared, and
know I shall suffer still more if -- again a stranger to you -- I nurture
our reunion. I am not unmanned enough to express gratitude where I feel a
fool."
     The King knelt before the captain. "And I would indeed be a fool, and
self-obsessed, to expect untempered joy, relief, or even calm at my
presence and tidings. As to my justly-presumed death... I can only say that
I am hard to thwart, beloved. Do my wishes hold any power with you?"
     Karondeo gripped his chest more tightly, and answered warily, "They
might. Every wish but one. What would you?"
     "Do not throw yourself into dissolution hence. Should you dare to
cleave yet again to me, I'll not be absconded thrice, I deem."
     "How can you promise that? You vanished! Utterly and without warning."
     Evendal answered simply, not caring that he repeated himself; Karondeo
would require assurance and reassurance. "We are home. And my recession
would revive those ills my introit quenched."
     Alekrond's son gave no rejoinder, but exaggerated a shiver. "Might we
all seek shelter, Malismogh? I fear my very teeth ache from cold."
     Looking about, Evendal realised that the ships had disgorged all their
passengers. He stood stiffly, his knees numbed by the frozen wood. "Good
friends, lords, and masters. The tides have done their duty and so have
you. This rite is accomplished and all can retire to warmth. If you so
choose, you may seek that warmth in the Palace. For We would mark this
day. Those who mourn the death of Our foster-mother may do so, treating Our
hospitality as her due. Those relieved by her passing may treat Our
invitation as leave to celebrate. Those too beset by either weather or
turmoil may retire to their own destinations. Not only are your names set
down as a matter of record, but your service in the face of the season's
cruelty is not ignored by Us. Go in the peace of Our gratitude for your
solemn attendance."
     The King declined his head repeatedly as the gentry fled his
presence. They were now indeed free to linger and be members of the Royal
Recessional and the King's Supp after, or break away and retire for Gentry
Row. Once the last noble had retreated, he turned his attention but briefly
to the striking of the tents and the retreat to the Palace, and then to his
son.
     Karondeo, flanked by Melianth and Alekrond, sat and garnered strength
for the trek inland.

     The return to the Palace seemed longer and more tiring than the
procession to the docks. Though he would rather have held Kri-estaul, for
safety and comfort's sake Evendal allowed Surn-meddil to carry him the
length of the journey. To the King's amusement, Surn-meddil became the
focus around which several courtiers revolved, curiosity emerging now that
the sombre rite was past. Kri-estaul acted shy and laconic with the first
visitants, but quickly enough calmed and began to respond with a small
degree of initiative. Evendal only heard an occasional word, and did not
engage himself to hear more, content enough to see the animation in his
son's countenance in the course of the walk.
     Seeing the child flag, Alekrond stepped away from his son to intercede
for Kri-estaul.
     The Maritime Counsellor adopted a befuddled air. "'Udles-talm? I know
I had some business to discuss with you. What was it? It involved some
freight. Shipment duties? No, that was back in Khefyre(250), and you would
most assuredly have paid me by now. Would you not? So, what was it? Do you
recall?"
     The nervous Guildmaster suddenly noticed another associate demanding
his attention and begged His Highness's leave.
     Past several buildings, Alekrond shared silence with Surn-meddil and
Kri-estaul. Finally, Surn-meddil it was who began conversation. "Quiet was
not a quality I expected of you, Master Alekrond."
     The huge man shrugged and took a moment to gather his
explanation. "Seafaring life is not all tempest and riot -- unless you make
it so. I know what manner of man I am, and while I do not like all I know,
yet I accept all I know of my nature. 'Tis those who fear themselves that
chatter and natter."
     Surn-meddil nodded. "That is a simple and hard bit of profundity."
     The Counsellor sighed. "It has been a day for weighty matters." He
looked askance at Surn-meddil. "I happen to know that, with the exception
of the Dowager Wytthenroeg, His Majesty's surviving family are all of his
generation and younger."
     The spectre grinned peaceably. "Do you doubt your Liege's word and
actions?"
     "No," was all Alekrond chose to reply, and said nothing else on the
matter.
     More buildings slipped past before Alekrond spoke up again. "Your
Highness, I reckon you have had a rough first visit aboard ship. What you
have faced is unique."
     "It is?"
     "Yes. Commonly during this time of the season, nearly all my ships
would be docked for repairs and cleaning -- and to keep the freeze from
warping the planks. We do not sail in winter. But if you would brave my
treasures in about six fortnights, I warrant you will not want to leave."
     "It was very strange," Kri-estaul reported. "And everything creaked or
made a... a hard slapping sound. But floating over those high waves was
fun. The wind made me feel like we were moving really fast, but to look at
the sea we were hardly moving."
     Alekrond grinned. "It sounds to me like you are already
smitten. Good."
     As he laboured along, Karondeo watched this exchange with
amusement. "My father may turn your heir into a brine-neck, Your Majesty,"
he warned.
     The King wanted to protest that honorific coming from the seaman's
mouth, but decided not to press matters. Yet. "Your father has his own
disarming manner. It pleases me so that Kri-estaul is not intimidated by
him at all." Evendal paused and chose a different trouble to address.
     "Kri-estaul knows that his will, not mine, shall determine his
future."
     "Do you like him?"
     "What I have seen of his mind and spirit I like."
     "Do you love him at all?"
     "Almost all my fears are for him. Do you object?"
     The reply was a bitter one. "Who am I that I should object, Your
Majesty?"
     Black eyes grazed gold ones.
     "Your damned eyes glow like some lantern, open or closed. You do not
remember me! You do not recall the first time we kissed. The mock-names we
fashioned for your sometime friend the Sheikh and her counterpart in the
Moot. The times you shielded us from their deliberate arson. Your nearly
dying. The pledges we..." Karondeo stopped in the way and growled out his
frustration. "We carved our names into each other's hearts, through our
days together, but my name has been erased, waxed over. What am I to you? I
have no inkling. I feel very tired and, somehow, betrayed." Not waiting for
a reply, he resumed his hobble.
     Evendal was having none of it. "You feel betrayed? Why? If your anger
is simply at my abandoning you, you are justified, for I did so however
unwillingly. People ask where I was before returning here, and my mind
gives me silence. That is also a kind of betrayal, one in which I am
victim. I dream of you, but cannot summon your face upon awakening. Thus am
I betrayed in dreams. I have thoughts and expectations totally
unprecedented, foreign to Thronelander or any Hramal, which I do not give
voice to lest I be thought unhinged. Again I am betrayed. I exhibit talents
and capabilities I do not comprehend, yet find myself acting the master
of. My mind betrays me quite regularly, Karondeo, yet I cannot, dare not,
resort to fermentation for solace as you have.
     "If you try to assert that I failed you, left you of a purpose, or
spurned you, you delude yourself. Perhaps you fear pain? That you might
lose me a second time? Perhaps you found more serenity in my absence, and
fear to say so? Whatever agency transposed me had no commerce with my own
will, Karondeo. Please do not punish me for another's fault."
     Frowning briefly into the King's glow, Karondeo whispered, "Punish
you? You yet see it that way? How can I hurt you where we have no
familiarity?"
     Evendal gently corrected his beloved's assumptions. "When I first saw
your form against the mast, I felt a stirring in my stomach, a nausea at
the possibility that you had been harmed. I knew immediately who you were
and who you were to me. Your stillness frightened me. As did the thought of
you waking and cursing me for leaving you however unwillingly. I almost
could not hear your breathing for the force with which my heart pounded
within my chest. My sense evokes only the ghost of a memory of you. Yet I
know you have ever stood at my side and that I have missed you there. I say
I have missed you, even so."
     After progressing past two buildings, Karondeo responded in gentler
tones. "The Evendal I knew is not the man I hear. Malismogh was timid in
comparison. You carried yourself with a hauteur, a shield that irritated
more than it impressed. In our early days, you expected servitude in people
not your subjects. Your anger, fears, vulnerabilities, and insecurities
were all very obvious but never admitted to. Back then, you were easier to
suffer in private than among my crew or out on the towns. Such traits you
struggled against, with indifferent success. You displayed nothing like the
strength of humility(251) I hear now.
     "You have an heir now. Previously you would, on occasion, hold forth
on the improbability of your fathering. You always said you would never
raise a child, lest you mimic the cruelties of your sire."
     Evendal sighed. "That worry abides. But I rely on the counsel of those
about me, and avoid what I knew failed with me."
     "And your patience? You were not known for it."
     "'Tis no better, I suppose, but he is easy to bear with."
     "Now I hide behind prattle, not you." Karondeo took a deeper breath
and again stopped walking. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened
them to stare with indecipherable feeling at a troubled Evendal.
     "It gladdens me that, unknowing, you stayed honest. And your outburst
just now likewise eases me. When I saw you standing so quietly behind my
father, I thought you a phantasm, a bit of whimsy summoned up by my wanting
you back. Time alone does not change this stone-stubborn heart, Malismogh,
nor does my own anger at your heedless transposition. The melancholic
humour and bouts of grief that I encouraged this lonely season were my
choice and do not signify virtue on my part."
     He stopped an explanation that did not serve the purpose and reached
out to lay his hand on the King's arm. "The question, 'Dare I trust you?'
with too many rejoinders trailing, scurries about in my mind. It will for
some time. A thousand decisions we had made together answer for me. It
matters not that you recall none of those moments."
     The seaman's inscrutable gaze turned into a sad one, the hand left the
ruler's arm to caress his Lord's chin. "It is my hope to discover love for
this Evendal, this Malismogh, even as I did love the less polished
article."
     Evendal ald'Menam sought to read Karondeo's sincerity in the well of
his eyes. "Let us continue on to the Palace, and the chance to rest in
better comfort."
     "I do not remember it being so far," Karondeo complained, but forged
on.

     Once in the Palace, past the main-door antechamber, the King directed
Alekrond, Melianth, and Karondeo to the left, through a rounded
archway. This brought them into an anteroom attended by a Guard, Ottily,
and a grinning Ierowen.
     "All the hearths are lit and have been for the past three bells, Your
Majesty," the youth announced merrily, forgetful of protocol. "If I might
relieve your attending party of their cloaks and winter gear?"
     Grinning in return, Evendal teased, "What of Our's?"
     Ierowen bit his lip in uncertainty. "I would not pinch in another's
field... I mean to say that I would not encroach on the pleasure of
another's duties, Your Majesty."
     "You do not usurp another's prerogative. In truth, We did not expect
any aides-de-chambre for this simple repast."
     Ierowen's face came close to matching his hair. Obviously, he had
cajoled someone for this opportunity.
     Evendal made slow work out of unclasping his cloak and divesting his
overtunics, his gaze fixed on the fervent youth to show gravity appropriate
to such regard. "We feared you had fled from Us, Ierowen, or were hiding
again -- which was retrograde to Our desires. The sight of your fiery hair
is a comfort to Us; in whatever capacity you choose to labour here, you are
welcome before Us."
     The boy struggled to kneel without letting the material he held scrape
the floor. "Your Majesty."
     "What did We tell you about such manners? They are not appropriate to
the saviour of Our realm, for such you are. Ottily? If you would relieve
Master Ierowen of the cloaks he grips?" Once the Guard had complied,
Evendal ald'Menam stepped up and embraced a visibly dismayed Ierowen, then
enclosed the youth's hands in his own slightly larger palms.
     Utterly confused and distressed, Ierowen hissed, "I don't
understand. No one's told me how to respond to all that!"
     "We did not want you in doubt of Our love for you, Ierowen of
Donnath-luin, the truth of Our admiration for your courage. When you feel
you have laboured sufficiently here, join Us within."
     Still red-faced, Ierowen gathered up Alekrond's and Melianth's capes
and overtunics as the King proceeded through the next door. Karondeo, a
hint of amusement on his face, relinquished the blankets wrapped around him
and quickly followed. Ierowen pegged the offered articles and turned to
help Aldul and those who followed.
     The feast hall was larger than the occasion required, being half the
size of the central Palace structure it adjoined. To Evendal's left, at the
far end of the room, glazed windows provided more light than the sconces
and fireplaces set closer by. To his right, maybe five ells from the
entrance, was the King's traditional placing, flush against one of the few
walls in the Palace Evendal could be certain was solid. At the far end of
the right-hand wall was the entry to the kitchens.
     The King stepped within, and then moved to his right, where a servant
waited with a loaf of currant bread and a nef(252) on a silver salver. At
each corner of the hall stood a servant with a similar tray but smaller
saltcellars. Over fifty people warmed themselves, either chatting
comfortably or quietly thawing beside a hearth. Upon Evendal's entrance,
all talk faded to silence. Alekrond's family and Evendal's entourage
shuffled quietly to the more spacious left side of the room.
     "Please," the King besought, "We would not have this be a time of
rhetoric or self-serving declamation. But rather would We mark the changes
come this season, mourn those lost to murder untimely, and rejoice in those
restorations as contribute to the health of the kingdom. We have declared
for this day no edicts or bills, We will have no noble to accuse, and no
positions invested. We have expunged on this day one of the last puissant
instigators of ill from Our realm, and such an event needs be remarked. So
break with Us the bread of ebullience or bitterness, however you wish to
think on it." Evendal picked the bara brith up off of the silver platter
and suited action to word.
     As was tradition, Evendal ald'Menam, after pulling a piece off the
loaf and eating it, took a tiny spoonful of salt from the nef and spilled
it on his tongue: a gesture of reassurance to his guests, expected to
follow suit.
     Attendants had arranged tables in a saltire cross with the arm
directed toward the kitchen truncated so that there were twenty-one tables
rather than twenty-four. Back during Menam's reign, when the peers or the
magisterial were not occupying the hall, the King used it to confer with
the Guard. Those occasions generally involved over sixty tables. Evendal
wondered where Shulro had hidden the surplus, even as he thought the
present number of tables optimistic. Before advancing further, the King
glanced at the doorjambs carved as hooded mendicants, to assure himself
that the craters they held had been supplied with salt, for those coming
late.
     The King, disdaining the customary royal seat against the wall as too
isolate from the feasters, chose a table. Custom also held that the King's
sitting signalled all were free to sit. Lord Evendal delayed, insisting
that the debilitated -- Karondeo, Alekrond, and Aldul -- be seated
first. He then singled out those he wanted sitting with him. Once his
choice had gathered about him, protocol and royal will strove with each
other to arrange places at a table that seated fourteen.
     "Master Karondeo, in the length of a season We have made a number of
friends, dear to Us and to Ours. We pray you all scorn the courtly manners
for this apprising. We would not exhaust you further. Some of you know your
neighbours, some do not. Permit Us to order matters and make introductions
as well." The King waved to his first friend. "Master Aldul of Kwo-eda,
emissary for the Archate Temple, if you would serve as our anchor at the
other end of the table. To his right if the Lady Cheselre olm'Onkira will
oblige. To his left the Madame Melianth olm'Shenrowyn Maritime Counsellor
with her husband Alekrond lin'Agredd beside her. At the Lady Cheselre's
other side, Danlienn aldh'Miurek, a man of many parts, and then the
Kohermarthen Drussilikh of the Scriveners. At Master Alekrond's side if Our
fair Lady of the Archate Sygkorrin and Our adoptive kinsman Ierwbae m'agdh
Rhynlosedd would seat themselves, while across from him his spouse
Metthendoenn agdh'Mildoyen. Guards Ierwbae and Metthendoenn defend Our
home, honour and person, and advise me most ably. Beside Metthendoenn, if
gracious Master Gwl-lethry aghd Gilbrahalnir elthra'ma Tinde'keb would take
his leisure. And Our younger brother Edrionwytt ald'Menam sit smilingly
beside Our spouse Master Karondeo lin'Alekrond. At Our left We would
present Our son the Most Serene Highness Kri-estaul pier'Vendalh in the
competent care of Our distant kinsman Uestrho Surn-meddil agdh'Ys-hierynn,
late Majesty of the Thronelands and current Warden of Kh'Anderif."
     Evendal turned his glowing gaze on all his immediate guests as they
moved to their indicated places and waited. The King had one more fiat to
give. "We trust you all will not look to Us before speaking. Consider Our
permission as given to address whosoever you wish," he declared and sat
down. The scrape of wood across stone ensued.
     Master Karondeo, happy to remain sitting, examined both the man in red
and the half-child he carried. The crimson figure appeared no more than a
score of years older than himself, black-haired, with the same cleft on
both sides of the jaw that the King bore, and the same lean frame, only
shorter. The elder's pellucid eyes suggested both amusement and assessment
in an expressionless face. The boy that Surn-meddil's arms encompassed
sported an intriguing head of hair, eggshell brown, several scar lines
about his face and arms, and wide grey eyes that likewise assessed the
seaman.
     Karondeo's hands trembled. His gaze kept drifting downward, drawn by
the lack of the boy's expected extremities.
     "Health to your lordships," Karondeo bade uncertainly. "Forgive my
forward speech, Your Majesty Surn-meddil, but you are a man of oddities."
     "How so?"
     "You surely possess no more than two score and ten years. Yet our
sovereign acknowledges you a past ruler to a kingdom dominated for nine
years by a jackal and a snake, governed previously by the late lamented
Lord Menam for twenty-seven years, and before that by his sire Lord
Mellanthar. How can this be?"
     Unintended, Karondeo showed the King somewhat of his mettle, by
intently attending the changed circumstances he had returned to. Clearly,
he did not take any detail presented to him for granted, as though, for
him, semblance could no longer coincide with essence. Evendal felt sad, and
reasonably certain that this wariness stemmed from his own vanishment.
     "I am much older than my seeming," was all of Surn-meddil's reply.
     "You needs must be, for my man is unwilling to lie for
anyone. Further, watching you at the pier and here, your legs cover more
distance than their movement warrants."
     The blithely voiced possessive delighted Evendal, who grinned
widely. "We see that, between the two of us and Our son, Our court will not
yield tact or subtlety, of which there is too much wrongly
seeded. Karondeo, Lord Surn-meddil is Our elder by many centuries. Ken you
how many, besayle?"
     "Over ten," Surn-meddil replied, utterly serious. "There are periods
wherein I slept. Or something like."
     "You have died?"
     "I presume so, though I can tell you nothing of it. A prolonged and
yet too brief moment of grief and fear as I fell, then an opening of eyes I
did not recall closing and finding I was in the midst of my wold."
     "Do you love my Papa?" Kri-estaul interjected, looking severely and
pointedly at Karondeo. He knew his besayle was a good man who loved him,
all that really mattered to him. Moreover, he himself had died, so talk of
it did not impress him.
     Karondeo shifted his dark gaze. "I have claimed him as my man, my
spouse, as you heard."
     Kri-estaul did not reply immediately, pausing so long that Karondeo
opened his mouth to speak again. Evendal lifted a hand, biding him wait
and, sure enough, the boy dared correct the tall seaman. "You called Papa
your man. Nisakh called me his also. That was not love."
     Evendal put his hand out into his son's field of vision and, after an
instant's startlement, Kri-estaul gripped three of his father's fingers
gratefully.
     "Nisakh?" Karondeo asked of the King.
     "Kri's former gaoler and panderer, a disciple of Abduram, dead at Our
command."
     The seaman contemplated that, then returned the Prince's stare and
answered with evident respect. "Then do not mistake me, Your
Highness. While I have not always treated him well," he turned the sable
well of his gaze upon the King, "I surrendered my heart into your Papa's
keeping, and do not ask for it back."
     "Hmph. Is that a 'yes'?"
     "It is, Your Highness."
     Kri-estaul glanced up at Surn-meddil, then back to Karondeo. "Good."
     The son of the Maritime Counsellor nodded his agreement.
     Shulro strode up to the table the King had chosen and deposited a
platter before him, heaped with gelatin-glazed pork. Behind the kitchener,
her attendants waited with the lesser dishes of haggis, carrot casserole,
honeyed beets, and figs. Tradition required the King satisfy himself as to
the fitness of the main course before any dishes could be offered to the
guests. Not adverse to this duty, Evendal sampled the pig, smiled up at the
veteran cook, and nodded his approval.
     The Prince was still curious, and found all the serving and plate
exchanges annoying. "In what way did you not treat Papa well?"
     Karondeo squinted in discomfort, causing Evendal to smirk. "You
dangled bait before a carp, Karondeo, and I most assuredly cannot answer."
     "I am quick to anger, Your Highness, quick to take offence. My rage
passes just as quickly, but leaves rash and hurtful words in its
wake. Many's the time I railed at Malismogh undeserving..."
     "Malismogh?"
     "Your Papa."
     "Oh. Did you shout at him?"
     "Yes."
     "Curse?"
     "Yes."
     "Spit?"
     "Once. Not at his face, but yes."
     "Slap him?"
     "No."
     Kri-estaul stared down at the table. "Punch him?"
     "No."
     The child's eyes no longer looked at anything tangible. "Did you ever
threaten to hurt him?"
     Karondeo frowned, bemused. "Never."
     "Plough him?"
     Karondeo, clearly perturbed, yet answered. "Never in anger, Your
Highness."
     "Try to st...strangle him?" The child hunched his head down.
     The seaman, at a loss, turned to Evendal.
     "These are the behaviours Kri-estaul has learned follow hard upon
anger. Nisakh and Abduram were his instructors for over two years in the
Palace undergrounds. He has my fingers in a grip of iron, an anchor to keep
from getting drowned in his memories."
     "Will you not comfort him?"
     "My heart screams at me to envelop him, protect him, but I'll not yet
lest he mistake my touch for his assailant's. This," he lifted their joined
hands, "and words are safest.
     "Sweetling, do you hear me? Kri? I love you, my son. You are safe. You
are by my side. Do you hear?"
     The King's repetition and rising inflection drew Gwl-lethry's
attention and he stopped eating to look on in concern. Sygkorrin and
Drussilikh leaned over the table to attend.
     Kri-estaul blindly twisted in Surn-meddil's hold, arm lifted in a plea
for his father. With careful alacrity, Evendal took up his son and held him
close. "I have you, sweetling. I am with you. You are safe. All that is
past. All that has passed."
     Kri-estaul did his best to encircle Evendal's ribcage. "Forgive me,
Papa."
     "For what? Whatever it is -- forgiven. I know it is difficult, but try
to ease yourself. The day's adventures are over and I'll not be leaving you
again."
     The King noted an expression cross Kri-estaul's face as the child eyed
Karondeo, a look of either anger or worry. He likewise looked on the young
seaman. "Such was the damage inflicted, Karondeo, that I ever sleep at my
son's side, the guardian of his dreams."
     "I envy him," Karondeo responded, his face impassive. "How came he to
be so fortunate and so troubled?"
     "He is the brother of the Kohermarthen. When he had but six years he
ran into Abduram in a Palace hallway. That kohukt(253) took exception and
the next day detained him in the Palace undergrounds. Abduram killed the
child's chaperone and hamstrung the boy for the first of three times, then
gave him over to an urchin-hearted Guard, Nisakh. Nisakh buggered him
regularly, gave him up to other Guard and to degenerate magistrates for
punishment and buggery. For over two years Kri-estaul knew only his cell in
the undergrounds. The rats and mice were all that gave him warmth in
winter. Rancid straw was all he had to clean himself with." Evendal noted
Drussilikh's half-strangled sob only in passing. He did not heed the
brightening of his own countenance.
     "Kri-estaul would scrape his overgrown fingernails against the stone
to break them down. He used his chains to protect himself against the less
pacific mice. Abduram and Nisakh convinced him that his family had sold him
to them, having tired of his 'evil will'. When his mother was killed at
Polgern's instigation, they had succeeded in degrading him to the point he
believed them promptly when they asserted she had died just on account of
being his mother. As if his 'evil' marked her in some way."
     To Evendal's surprise, Karondeo waved his hand for him to
desist. "Thunders, Evendal! If only you had all your history within reach,
you'd know you are selling a farmer on his own goat."
     Evendal discarded the royal address in his earnestness. "That is not
all of my intent. Foremost I wished you to know the condition and story of
this child so dear to me. I wanted you aware of matters, should you wish to
abide with me..."
     Karondeo frowned, his sun-darkened face quickly turning darker
still. "'Should I'? Where else would I abide? For so long as the two of you
will suffer me, I dwell with you! Malismogh, where you dwell is my home,
and whom you live with is my family. Be assured of that. What else do you
fear?"
     Why do you think...?"
     "There is a stillness, a silent stiffness, that you acquire when you
fear to trouble me. Speak. Please." Karondeo began to attack his meal.
     Startled by the action, Kri-estaul looked down at the plate Shulro had
set before the King and, knowing his Papa would be talking for a while,
took up the knife and began with the casserole.
     Aldul, from his vantage point at the end of the table, saw this and
grinned in complicity.
     "I just... I hope you never regret that choice."
     The seaman was not diverted. "What else?"
     "I vowed to Kri-estaul that I would not leave him without his
approval. And I have kept that promise. I was with him through the cutting
of his legs and the recuperation so far. I have left his side only to
asperse Onkira..."
     "I yet find that occasion incredible," Karondeo interjected.
     "He sleeps in my bed," Evendal continued. "But I know what we were,
and what I want us to be for each other again. How can I be that for you,
you be that for me, with a son as harrowed as Kri-estaul is?"
     The young seaman grinned, chewed nonchalantly until he could swallow,
then grinned some more. "Are you asking how you can swyve me, or me you,
with a precocious son in the same bed?"
     The King blushed. "Yes. When I saw you aboard ship, first your name
and significance shocked through me. In that moment I came up hard. And
again when you opened your eyes and saw me. We are in the midst of a
feasting, and I want to rest against you and hold you so eagerly. I do not
want you in doubt that, memory or no memory, you are also my man -- just as
you said I was yours earlier."
     Karondeo put down his knife and replied thoughtfully, "You have made
that irrefutable, beloved. Do not fret over the sweet when the meal itself
is so rich. Ir willing, we shall have many years of exhausting pleasure in
each other. But we did not suffer life together in Alta for the delight of
coupling only, rather for what we learned of one another. I must discover
anew who Malismogh is now, and how to be a King's spouse and counsel, and
you must learn again what manner of man you have in me. Learning about one
another and assisting and comforting one another is, I deem, what loving
couples allot the largest division of time for."
     He shifted his gaze to a ravening but watchful child. "Do I trouble
you? That your Papa loves me also?"
     Kri-estaul stopped eating, but stared at the food he had commandeered
rather than at either adult. "I don't know. Papa loves me, he said so to
everybody. Papa loves a lot of people."
     Karondeo was not to be put off. "But only one person has shared his
room and bed, I suspect. You. Can you bear him extending that measure of
trust and love to me?"
     "I don't know. Papa, can I have oatmeal? With honey?"
     "Don't you like what we have here?"
     "Not really."
     "But you haven't even tried anything but the carrot dish."
     "I don't like the other stuff. It all tastes weird."
     "Why don't you at least sample the honeyed beets? And you like figs,
don't you?"
     "I would rather have oatmeal."
     "You like when Empress Shulro makes food for you. Well, Shulro made
all this and you have not tasted it. It would hardly be right to ask her to
make oatmeal after she worked so hard on this feast."
     Simultaneously, Metthendoenn and Karondeo gave a warning-filled,
"Evendal."
     The King glanced at both men. "What? What am I not heeding?"
     Karondeo advised, "The demand is not about appetite or preferences."
     Metthendoenn concurred. "Be sure that he sees you right now as walking
away from him -- with Alekrond's son beside you."
     Now the one to stare at his food, Evendal goaded a tired mind into
consideration. Oatmeal and honey was his son's favourite food, easy to eat
and digest, and sweet. Now that Kri's continued recuperation allowed him
options, he chose oatmeal when Evendal, sensing his son's inclination, was
amenable to eating it as well. It was a silly pleasure they indulged in
together, heaping honey or a compote on their oats. And that thought gave
Evendal the key to Kri-estaul's obduracy.
     The King looked down at his son, kissed him on the forehead, and
whispered a heartfelt question. "Now that you mentioned it, oatmeal sounds
tempting. Might I join you in a bowl of it?"
     Kri-estaul relaxed his shoulders and his grip on his father. "Are you
certain?" he whined as he burrowed his nose against Evendal's breastbone.
     "Entirely. I ignored you for most of this day. That is not good. That
is not what I want. And after braving that weather for too many bells, my
stomach would appreciate some simpler food." He waved an attendant
over. "Ask Shulro, of her kindness, for a large bowl of oatmeal, with a
ewer of honey, and bring it to Us." The attendant bowed and sped away.
     "She'll be angry at me," the boy opined.
     Evendal grinned lightly. "Somehow, I doubt that."
     Edrionwytt, seemingly oblivious to the concern and the attentive
silence at the table, piped up, "May I have some also? Do I have to eat the
beets?"
     The King looked at his brother, amazed all over again at having
siblings. "Of course you may. And no, you do not have to eat beets today. I
am very glad you are here.
     "What were the worst parts of the day for you?" the King thought to
ask his son.
     After a yawn, Kri-estaul answered without hesitation, "When you were
on that slimy rock, and then rowed further away from me. And when besayle
Surn-meddil made me talk to people."
     "He did no more than I have. Was that so bad?"
     Kri-estaul thought about it, and reluctantly admitted, "At first it
was terrible. They all stared at me like... like Nisakh, all hungry or
angry looking. I did not know what they wanted me to say! Then there was
the woman from some group. She really stank!"
     "The Tanners' Confederacy," Surn-meddil interjected.
     The boy nodded absently, distracted by the memory. "She started
talking to me very slowly. Dragging her words out. Like I was a simpleton
or a baby. I... I laughed at her buffoonery." He looked up at his father
and strove to convey the surprise of his discovery. "She did not know how
to talk with me. I think she was afraid of me."
     Evendal's heart consigned the Tanners' Confederacy to the inside of
their own vats. "But later?"
     "After that she ran away. I don't think she liked me laughing. But it
was only a little giggling. I could not help it, Papa. Honestly. After, I
thought perhaps those other people did not know how to talk to me
either. That they asked strange questions or questions I could not answer,
just for something to say to me. Do they not have children around them?"
     The King, thinking on his own family's isolating ways, could only say,
"I do not know, my son." He then hesitantly suggested, "You do know that
your having no legs distresses some also."
     Kri-estaul made a face. "Is that bad? What should I do?"
     On this Evendal felt certain. "Absolutely nothing!"
     Just then the dining attendant returned with a tureen while a fellow
behind her carried bowls and honey. "Mistress Shulro's compliments, Your
Majesty. She had this prepared and waiting on your word."
     "Our most sincere thanks to you both and to the Empress," the King
bade. After dishing out the meal and apportioning the honey, Evendal
returned to their discussion.
     "You do know that I love you? Let me list those who I know like you
and love you, and then tell you a greater truth. Myself, Lord Surn-meddil,
Kul, Uncle 'Doenn, Uncle 'Bae, nearly all the Guard who labour in the
Palace, Hielbrae, Hwen-hyroc, Bruddbana, Falrija, Brualta, Guard
Brinau-tehir, Aldul, the Lady Sygkorrin, Alekrond, Pohul-halik and
Aikathemi of the Woodwose, Soandrh, Mistresses Shulro and Othanya the
kitcheners, the Honourable Master Jaserle, Illandoigh of the Dyers, your
sister Drussilikh and your uncle Kiulen, Edrionwytt and -- believe it or
not as you will - my mother Wytthenroeg, Ierowen of Donnath-luin, the
Honourable Master Heamon, Danlienn of Arkedda and Lialityne. Quite a list,
no?"
     As their names were spoken, every person mentioned who sat at table
nodded assent.
     Kri-estaul's eyes had widened in the telling and the
affirmation. "Yes."
     "So many people cannot like or love a cipher, a person who is a great
well of emptiness or need. But they love you. And to those people, your
having no legs is insignificant, it does not make them like you more or
like you less. It means nothing to them. You... you are all that matters to
them, to me.
     "I will not say, 'Don't be disheartened by those who stare or talk
down to you'. That is impossible. But strive to recall that a lot of people
who know you also love you, and we see more than the doorstop you once
called yourself. We are the better mirrors."
     Evendal hesitated but a moment. "When you feel hurt by the fear and
flaws in others, let me know, Kri-estaul. Or if you feel uncomfortable in
troubling me, as I know you sometimes do, talk to Karondeo."
     The man named lifted an eyebrow in surprise at his beloved's
temerity. Kri-estaul stared uncertainly at the large stranger, his
expression not lost on Evendal.
     "Yes, Karondeo. I love him, Kri-estaul, no less than I love you. What?
Do you think I will come to love him more and you less?"
     As that was indeed all of Kri-estaul's fear, he could only whisper, "I
don't know."
     Evendal spooned some oatmeal and fed it to his son. "Should I ban your
sister from seeing you, or Surn-meddil, as my rivals for your affection?"
     After he swallowed, all Kri-estaul could do was ask, "What?"
     "You feel that my care for Karondeo will lessen either the strength of
my care for you, or the amount of time I spend companioning you. It follows
that your attending Surn-meddil means you neglect me. How can you love me,
your sister, and Surn-meddil at the same time?"
     "She is my sister! He is a friend. You are my Papa! I love them the
same, but differently!" Not the most coherent of explanations, but the very
point Evendal wanted Kri to embrace.
     "Just so. Karondeo is my spouse. You are my son. Just so. My love is
as fierce toward you as it is toward him, but different in kind."
     The King held his son securely as they ate. "Does Karondeo affright
you?"
     Kri-estaul thought a moment. "I do not know... I don't think
so. But..."
     "What?"
     The boy squinted at Karondeo but answered, "You are my Papa." The
possessive came out louder than the rest of his declaration.
     At first Evendal thought he would have to repeat his assurances of
emotional equity. Then he recalled his first impression of Beru-homek,
Onkira's paramour. Before he knew the omnivorous habits of the man, when he
first met the sempiternally smiling cur, he had hated the fellow
cordially. He had felt encroached upon, as though his faux-mother was his
territory, and the man an invader, a rival. No thought process had been
involved, naught but pure and prompt visceral reaction.
     "You are no less important to me than you were before Karondeo arrived
back here. You remain my beloved son. I shall not neglect you for anyone's
whims, I shall not discard you. I still see you, Kri. You. My love of
Karondeo does not blind me to your needs."
     The seaman had heard enough. "Allow me to make a suggestion,
Malismogh. Your Highness, I would not destroy your peace of mind to no
purpose. You saw me for the first time only this noon. As far as His
Majesty kens, the same might as well be said for him also. For a strange
man to suddenly present himself, only to hang on your father as a leech
might on the neck, would trouble any caring witness. That he would stand
closer to your father than his shadow without so much as a bye-your-leave
is a fault to nature. Permit me, then, to introduce myself more gradually
into your good graces. Let us learn of each other at a more untroubled
cadence. I have questions and fears no words can yet frame, as I am sure
you and your father do. Let a deliberate passage of days work to articulate
both questions and answers for us all. What think you?"
     Disdaining any hint of desperation or peeve, Karondeo tendered his
proposal with gentle calm.
     Evendal nodded his agreement. "That is well thought."
     Kri-estaul frowned. When Surn-meddil told him his Papa's lover awaited
aboard the ship with the broken mast, he had been happy for his father. His
Papa needed someone like Falrija had, or like Uncle 'Doenn had thought he
had. He felt all ready to welcome this person who had loved Papa before his
Papa had rescued him. But he watched as they spoke on the pier. When Papa
had knelt in front of the big man, he had felt uncomfortable, threatened by
how close they were to each other. And as they all returned home, even with
his besayle pressing him to talk to all the nosy people, he could tell that
the two of them were arguing. And just now the stranger, Karondeo, admitted
to having mistreated Papa.
     But though Karondeo had raised his voice, it had sounded as though he
had been upset at having lost Papa. That was a grief that Kri-estaul well
understood, the substance of many of his bad dreams.
     And they both said they loved each other.
     This man spoke with him the way Uncle 'Bae, Uncle 'Doenn, Papa, and
Jaserle did.
     And he got no impression from Karondeo of that terrifying false
friendliness of Nisakh's that some of the courtiers had sported earlier.
     "Yes," Kri-estaul conceded doubtfully. He took another spoonful of
oatmeal but his confusion and uncertainty soured the taste.

                      ---------------------------------------

(247) A comment on the newness of Evendal's reign, he is likened to a bird
just hatched with part of his shell yet on his head.
(248) In this context a roue, specifically a male-for-male prostitute.
(249) http://www.thefreedictionary.com/Clodpoll
(250) Midsummer
(251) Umilte - self-knowledge and self-acceptance with both vices and virtues.
(252) A saltcellar in the shape of a ship, a traditional accoutrement with
royalty, representing the ship of state.
(253) Dingo or hyena; a derogatory term