Date: Mon, 25 Feb 2013 16:40:35 -0500
From: M Patroclus <thephallocrat@gmail.com>
Subject: The Exile, Chapter 21

THE EXILE
A Gay Fantasy Experiment

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I am weary and would fain sleep, but still this manuscript sits
unfinished. It torments me and bids me yet to write. We have been traveling
now for what seems to be an eternity, and at last arrived this morning at
the city of Fermanagh, where a great celebration awaited us. I have feted
and feasted and toasted the day away, an ordeal far more exhausting than it
sounds, and tomorrow the true work begins. I shall inspect the government
here and ensure that all is ready. I am not concerned, however, for my
Queen has matters here well in hand, and the people have enjoyed more
prosperity than at any time in recent memory.

I was not always so confident in the future of this city.

I remember the tense look on the faces of those around me as my small
council, its ranks swelled by the addition of several amazarii leaders,
discussed strategy for assaulting Fermanagh. All deferred to me as King and
master of the proceedings; Valen was conspicuous only in his absence.

"Your situation is grim," an old amazari said bluntly, "The Queen's forces
and their Broxbournean allies hold most of the key areas of the city and
practically all the city gates. The few pockets of male resistance will not
hold out long, so you cannot expect help from within. As you are, you do
not have the numbers to lay siege."

"A siege!" one of the Veruvian males spat, "We cannot dare stay so
long. The Archbishop grows stronger and soon shall set his eyes on
Carmathen."

"Aye, we must have victory here quickly and move northward," agreed a
Broxbournean soldier.

"You cannot win the city through force of arms," the amazari insisted, "Not
without great luck and much bloodshed. And time, lots of time."

"What of Markis' plan?" Jelena asked suddenly, "We must erode Valessa's
power from within."

Shara spoke next. "Queen Valessa is the key. Fear of her keeps many of the
amazarii in rank even though they might disagree with her methods and her
goals - remove and depose her, and many shall renounce her cause and join
our side." She looked to the amazarii contingent for confirmation, and they
nodded silently.

"But the Queen is sure to be safely locked away within her keep. Reaching
her would be impossible," Cedrik said, "The city walls are bad enough, but
fighting our way into the keep would be a massacre."

"The Queen's castle is impregnable," the old amazari agreed.

Alek's voice squeaked to life. "No, it isn't! There's a secret way into the
keep, isn't there, Markis? There is a tunnel - the Queen's Seeress showed
it to us and we used it to escape. It leads to a garden in the noble
district."

I remembered our flight, the feeling of fear that pressed in on my chest as
we raced the endless length of the tunnel surrounded by darkness and the
cold smell of the earth. I nodded.

"Could you find the entrance to this tunnel again?" Shara asked me.

"I think we could," Alek answered for me, "Between the two of us,
definitely."

"This tunnel could not possibly be large enough for our invasion force,"
Jelena said, "Not to mention there is still the problem of getting inside
the city at all."

"Not our whole force, maybe, but a few." Cedrik countered. "And there are
routes into the city still under our control. We could sneak a handful
through one of those gates without Valessa's forces knowing."

"Tricky," an amazari said with a tone of warning.

"But possible," Cedrik responded. "Once inside the city walls, I can rally
some of the men loyal to us. Then we can create a distraction - a false
assault on the keep, perhaps. Anything that pulls as many of Valessa's
personal guard away from her as possible. Our small attack force will then
enter the keep and capture the Queen."

"Alive," the old amazari insisted.

Cedrik looked at me questioningly. I nodded. The Queen would be tried and
judged by her female subjects as part of our bargain with the rebel
amazarii.

"It's a risky plan," Shara said at once, looking at me with pursed lips.

I spoke at last. "I thought you liked taking risks."

She smiled. "That's why I didn't say we shouldn't do it."

There was silence as a spirit of agreement settled upon us. If the plan
worked, Fermanagh would fall quickly and utterly. The discontented amazarii
would join our ranks and together we could easily oust the
Broxbourneans. All that was left was to pick the members of the attack
force, upon whom the whole plan would depend. That decision, I knew, would
fall to me.

"Work out the details," I told Cedrik, "Think of everything. We'll meet
again in the morning." They were words of dismissal, and the meeting was
over. Everyone stood and fractured into separate, private conversations. I
rose and was about to join Alek and Jelena but found Cedrik standing in my
path.

"Can I speak with you privately?" he asked, appearing suddenly nervous.

Over his shoulder I could see Alek eyeing us suspiciously, and though I
would have preferred to include him, Cedrik looked deadly serious about his
request. "Of course," I said, and motioned him to follow me back to my
tent.

He spoke first. "We must speak about who you will send on this mission. I
am concerned...."

"Cedrik," I said, raising a hand to stop him, "You know I must lead the
force that captures Valessa."

He tried to speak: "No, I--"

"Only Alek and I can find the entrance to the tunnel, and my presence will
increase morale."

"Markis--"

"How would it look if I sat back and took no risk? No, I must face Valessa
again. I cannot send others to do my dirty work for me."

He made a sound of frustration. "Markis, listen. You misunderstand me once
again. The others might wish you to stay out of danger, but I agree that
you should go, I was going to suggest it myself. That's not my concern."

"Then what?"

"Don't take Alek," he said quickly, as though afraid I'd cut him off again,
but I was so caught off guard by his words that I said nothing for a long
time.

"I thought you trusted him now," I said at last.

He paused as though considering his words carefully. "I believe he is free
of the Queen's control. You saved him, a miracle for which I can never
truly thank you enough. But... Markis, he was a slave to her for many
years. We can't risk it. We can't put him through seeing her again."

Now it was again my turn to be silent as my mind raced over the
possibilities. "He won't like the idea of staying behind."

"He'll be furious," Cedrik agreed. "But it's for his own good."

"Worse," I replied, voice quavering, "He'll think I no longer trust
him. He'll think it a betrayal."

Cedrik cried out, "It doesn't matter what he thinks, Markis. You'll be
saving him! Look, I know you and he... well, I know you care for him
greatly. If you love him, spare him this. Spare him in despite of himself,
even if he hates you for it."

There was another long pause. I looked away and didn't know what to say.

"I shall consider this," was all I could manage.
_________________________________________________________________

I have worn the crown for almost two decades now, and this I have learned
above all: power comes at a terrible price, and every decision, every act
has consequence for both good and ill. The early years of my reign were
wasted in constant effort to find those choices and decrees that would do
only good, pure acts that would cause no harm to anyone. It was a fool's
errand, and all too often I delayed doing good where good was necessary
because I felt unwilling to pay the price those acts required. This is, no
doubt, my greatest weakness. I would do no harm if I could, but this is
impossible. To act is to do harm to someone, somewhere. To do nothing is no
better. Every living being that draws breath both helps and hurts all
others, for we are all connected. It is no different for a king; it is only
magnified a thousand fold.

Though it would not seem so to the exterior eye, it has been my curse to
doubt everything I do, every step I have travelled and every decision I
have made. Doubt is the fabric of my life, the sea in which I swim,
punctuated only by startling, sparkling moments of certainty, many of which
I have written of here, which are the exception rather than the rule. But I
never doubted my feelings for Alek, not once. My love for him was an
unquestioned fact in my mind. It was, I felt, my greatest strength, and in
so many ways it was. But we humans are strange creatures; our greatest
strengths are also our greatest weakness.

Thus, I could not deny Alek. I was certain of it then, and I am certain of
it now. It is of no use to look back, blessed with the knowledge I now have
and to judge what should or should not have been done differently. In the
hours before our desperate attack on the city, I summoned Alek to my tent,
prepared to tell him that I had decided not to bring him on our mission,
that he would be kept behind for his own sake. I had honed my resolve until
it was a sharp as a sword. But all this melted away when I saw him. My
confidence deserted me and Cedrik's warnings were as the wind, distant and
meaningless.

"Yes, Markis?" he asked, his face blank and innocent. And beautiful. "What
is it?"

I could have commanded him to stay behind and I knew he obey me, but it
would amount to nothing less than a slap in the face to a man who had given
me so much. When I had fled Valessa's palace, it had been with Alek at my
side. Fleeing his life of slavery based solely on my insistence took
courage and trust. He had offered his heart and his body to me, a gift he
had never given to another man. And all along, even to that very moment in
which he stood before me in my tent, staring at me curiously, he had served
me faithfully -- even if his heart now belonged to another.

"Is something wrong?"

I would not - nay, I could not - betray him with distrust and suspicion
now.

"Not at all," I forced myself to say, "Prepare yourself, we are leaving for
the city soon."

He must have sensed my anxiety and guessed at its cause, for at these words
there was clear relief and gratitude in his demeanor. I recall an awkward
moment, just before he left the tent, in which he struggled for words to
tell me something that was on his mind. "Markis," he said, "you... That is,
I wanted to say..."

"Yes?" I asked, full of hope.

My friend blushed and shook his head, turning at last to smile at
me. "Nothing. Never mind. See you in a few minutes."

How that hesitation torments me now! What strange shyness possessed his
tongue after all we had gone through together? I now believe that there are
some sentiments that, expressed aloud and reduced to commonplace words,
lose the full extent of the their meaning and become tarnished. Unformed,
unspoken, unheard, they hold more power over our minds and hearts than the
best crafted speech ever could. Perhaps Alek understood this intuitively at
that final moment, and since then I have comforted myself by thinking that
nothing my friend could have said at that time could have lived up to the
expectation that hung in the air and burned in my heart. Any words would
have been a disappointment, or so at least I have told myself continually
in the years since then.

I was still pondering over what Alek had been intending to say when I was
visited by another of the men in my life. Pasha, my young clerk and dear
friend, did not struggle for words to express his mind as Alek had done.

"I think this is an awful, terrible idea and I want you to know it," he
said as he walked in.

I blinked in surprise. "Oh, you do?" I couldn't stop an amused smile from
spreading on my face.

"Don't smirk at me, Markis, like I'm just some kind of child worrying over
nothing. It's dangerous, what you are going to do. It's insane. You are
king now, you don't have to do these kind of things yourself. You matter
too much to risk your life like this. You aren't just an exile anymore, you
have people who rely on you. Who need you. You know that, don't you?"

My face had grown somber again. "Yes."

"We need you alive. I need you. Please, don't...."

"Pasha, what are you getting at?"

"You think I don't see this for what it is?" he said, fist clenched, "I
won't let you do it. I won't let you kill yourself, throw everything away."

My mouth gaped open. "You think this is some kind of noble sacrifice? Some
grand plan for suicide?"

He crossed his arms, attempting, I think, to look as angry and masculine as
possible. It was cute. "What else am I supposed to think?"

I crossed to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I have no intention of
failing this mission," I said, "This plan will work, and I will return
alive and with all of Fermanagh brought to our side."

Closer now, I saw what in my distraction over Alek I had not noticed
before. He was crying. "Do you promise?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Touched, a brought my head down to his and kissed him gently on the lips. I
felt his breath catch and his heart double its rhythm. "I promise," I said.

He nodded. "If you die," he whispered, "I will be so angry with you."

I smiled again. "Fair enough."

I embraced him one last time and sent him on his way. Sighing, I sat and
closed my eyes, attempting to push away a growing anxiety about the task
ahead and to replace it with calm confidence. Pasha's fears, for all I had
laughed at them, had unnerved me. This, added to the growing disquiet in my
thoughts that I had failed Alek in some way, threatened to undermine my
confidence completely exactly when I needed it most. Fears assailed me. I
wondered what would happen to all those who had sworn themselves to my
cause if I were to fall. It would be an ultimate betrayal to the people of
my tribe, who had given up everything and left their old way of life behind
to join me in the creation of a whole new future. If I died at the hands of
the Queen and her loyal amazarii, wouldn't that sacrifice be all for
nothing? I realized at last what a great risk I was taking. For my own
safety I had not been concerned, since after all I had been in mortal
danger many times since my exile and it was becoming rather familiar. But,
as Pasha had said, many lives rested on my shoulders now, all of whom would
suffer should I fail. It troubled me deeply.

I took a deep breath. On the edges of my awareness I could sense Damon
waiting, knowing as I did that my success and survival could be guaranteed
if I drew upon his power to aid me. Were I to join with him, allowing his
power to invade my body once again, it would be easy to penetrate the
Queen's the defenses and overcome all opposition. Enemies would fall before
me, and I could have Fermanagh without any risk. Such power was not without
temptation, despite the many times I had sworn never to employ Damon in
such a way again. His gifts, I knew, did not come without price, for every
joining with the thing I had called my servant left me weaker and more
drained. But better, surely, that I myself pay that price with my body
rather than allow my followers to suffer.

It galled me to realize I was once again considering submitting myself to
his power. I was not blind to the fact that this was how the being I had
named Damon operated, making itself ever more gradually useful, more
needed. Ever the obedient and willing servant, offering gifts of power,
safety, providing easy solutions to difficult problems, until step by step
I, the so-called "master," came to rely so much on his assistance that I
could not send him away even though I had glimpsed the darkness and
inhumanity at the core of its being. Thus the smugness that radiated from
his knowing smile galled because he knew I would eventually come back to
him no matter how much I swore to the contrary and I knew, in my heart,
that he was right. I fought back and forth in my mind with the temptation,
sweating and trembling and feeling my willpower weakening.

When I was interrupted by another visitor to my tent, I was relieved to be
taken from my thoughts.

"I am ready to go," Shara told me brusquely.

I rose and crossed to her. "I am glad you will be joining us."

"Who else is coming?"

"Cedrik, of course. A few Tharonites and some of the Veruvian women. Plus
your rebel amazarii."

"None of the giants?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Though I would feel better having them, they are hardly
discreet."

"Not Valen?"

"No," I said firmly, "The less he is involved with this new alliance, the
better. His time is over."

"I agree," she said, "Is that everyone?"

"And... Alek will come as well." My face burned with shame to say
it. Cedrik would not be pleased.

She looked at me, eyebrows raised, then nodded knowingly. "The medician's
lover. Of course. I understand."

"We'll have a better chance finding the secret tunnel if both of us are
present," I said by way of explanation. She looked at me without blinking,
and I knew my excuses were wasted on her. She saw through all of my
dissembling. Thus, she knew everything.

"Shara," I began, and my tone was apologetic and shamed.

"Stop, Markis," she said at once, "Let us not speak of it. The past is the
past."

"I feel... terrible for what happened, for what I did," I pressed on, "I
want you to know that."

"I know it. But I will not cleanse you of your guilt. I can't. You will
have to come to terms with your pain on your own, as will I. What
happened... happened. Rejecting me caused your exile, and without your
exile none of this could have been possible. It was as it must be."

"I did not marry you because I could not. But were I ever to wed a woman,
if such a thing were... possible for me, it would be with you and none
other."

She smiled with a hint of irony that I would soon come to understand. "I am
glad to hear it."

Behind her, several of the rebel amazarii leaders entered the tent as well,
grim and determined looks on their faces. They were outfitted for battle,
wearing their customized armor of feminine curves and wielding long knives
and spears. Even then, knowing they were allies, I could not see them
without my heart skipping a beat and my fingers twitching for my sword.

"Markis," their leader said, "The time has come to depart for the
city. Valessa's reign ends this day, and in her place we shall choose a new
Queen. Will you hold by your promise to honor our choice?"

"I will."

"You understand that by the laws of Fermanagh the King and Queen are to be
joined in a symbolic marriage? You must wed the woman we choose as our
leader."

"I understand," I said. Such an idea was uncomfortable, but as it was
purely a political arrangement I saw no reason to object.

"As Valen has chosen an outsider to rule the men of our city, we shall do
the same. Perhaps only those untouched by the ancient rivalry between the
sexes can lead our people to a new future and a new union. Thus, we choose
Shara of the Sha'Eluid to be our Queen."

And there it was again, Shara's wry smile, indicating she was well aware of
the rich irony that life had now presented to us. I looked at her and felt
a smile of my own spread across my face. I chuckled, and then her remaining
composure broke and she giggled, and then we were both laughing with a kind
of manic madness while the amazarii looked on in confusion, laughed despite
the conflict ahead, laughed until tears ran down our faces.
_________________________________________________________________________

The plan was meticulous, every possible detail accounted for; and yet, I
realize now, it was always doomed to failure in some degree, as are all the
plans we mortal creatures are capable of. No mind can comprehend the
millions of possible variations in any plan, the smallest of which can so
easily result in defeat or at least in an outcome quite different from the
one intended. Alander speaks much of this in his writings, and I have seen
the truth for myself in my years of rule.

Some inkling of this truth must have already begun to form in my mind, for
I could not shake a feeling of unease even though our desperate strike
against the Queen began so promisingly. We secured entry into the city
through a smaller side gate still under control of a few loyal male
soldiers, unnoted and unseen, we felt sure, by any of Valessa's
agents. Soon thereafter, a riot of the remaining armed men within the city
sparked the distraction that Cedrik had planned for. Swarms of amazarii
swept out from the Queen's stronghold to impose peace and end the
conflict. With a pang in my heart I realized that many men would die that
day.

On our way through the city towards the secret passage that would take us
to our enemy's fortress, I saw many things that did little to assuage my
guilt. Men and women fighting in the streets, most exchanging only violent
words, but some threatening blows. Everywhere women had come together in
groups of three or more for security against hungry-eyed and angry men
(there are always many such in any land) bearing weapons and looking for
vengeance for their king. Husbands and wives torn apart, brother versus
sister, parents estranged from children. Here was unveiled a kind of
primeval, irrational hatred that has dwelt in secret within us all since
our ancestors, barely more than beasts themselves decided to divide and
define our one species into two creatures: man and woman. A primal
division, a fear and loathing fed only on the fact that they are different
than us, but such differences (like all differences) are products on the
collective mind only. Indeed, the line between male and female is, I
believe, more blurry than any of us normally feel comfortable admitting,
and in this likes the true heart of our fear of one another. True, this
fear amongst any normal populace would be subsumed into desire, ignored out
of mutual need, and finally understood and broken through by the rational
mind. Such things had been the first and greatest casualty in the
generations-long feud of Fermanagh. Now the madness of the city was brought
to light, manifested in chaos and blood for all to see.

At that moment I fell in despair, fearing that nothing Shara and I could do
as the new rulers of these people would ever repair the damage caused by
this time of violence. Cedrik disagreed, and for once the rebel amazarii
agreed with him.

"They act from fear," the eldest of the amazarii told me, "When the
conflict is ended and peace restored to the city, it will all be forgotten
and thing will return to balance. Women need men, at the end of the day,
and men need women."

"Markis doesn't," Alek said, off-handed, not even really paying
attention. The dismissive tone of his words offended me, but I struggled
not to show it. I glanced at Shara and knew that Alek's view of the
situation was rather over-simplified. Such was the way of my friend, whose
simple view of looking at the world often brushed aside complexities or
doubt.

Working together, Alek and I quickly located the garden in the noble
district where we had emerged during our escape from Valessa in a time that
felt like ages earlier. The tunnel was longer than I had remembered, but at
last our small attack force was deep inside the Queen's fortress. There
were distant sounds of commotion, but within the hallways of the keep it
was relatively silent, indicating that Cedrik's diversion had already
begun.

Still, it was too much to hope that we could reach the Queen without facing
opposition. Like wraiths born of the shadows themselves, some of the most
loyal amazarii appeared in waves all around us, determined to protect their
mistress with their lives. Of our battles through the halls, I remember
little. My silver sword flashed left and right, batting aside the spears of
the amazarii while at my side Alek and Shara protected my flank. Alek's
skill with a sword was mediocre at best, though he fought with passion, so
I found myself expending more and more energy to protect him. In my ear, I
could hear Damon whispering promises of power and strength, begging me to
allow him to join us into one once again. I ignored his words of seduction
as best as I could.

At some point I turned to check on Shara to see that she had vanished from
my side, then belatedly noticed that our group had split into small groups
of skirmishers. Alek was still with me, and, unable to see signs of the
others and unsure of where their fighting had taken them, we pressed on
with our mission, heading towards the Queen's personal chambers. Alek, of
course, knew the way all too well.

Cutting down a single amazarii guard, we entered her bedroom. I had come to
half expect that she had fled already, but there she was, looking as
beautiful and as dangerous as ever. At the sight of her a chill ran down my
spine and I found my feet frozen, unable to act. It was at that moment that
the first seeds of doubt were planted in my mind that I had ever truly
escaped her power at all.

"What a happy reunion," she said wryly, looking for all the world
unimpressed at the sight of two men with swords determined to face her. "My
two favorite pets, returned to their mistress at last."

"Enough is enough," I said, "It's over. Your thoughtless leadership has
alienated your own followers, and they have chosen to depose you. I am here
to bring you to face their justice."

Valessa laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, Pilo, you are such the
idealist. You do love your speeches, don't you? Your naivete is really
quite charming."

I took a step forward, the point of my sword aimed at her heart. "Deny the
truth all you like," I said, "But your end has come."

"You have not won yet!" she said, a laugh beginning to bubble up in her
throat, "You have yet to face my final guardian!"

"Your guards are defeated," I shouted, annoyed. I was young. I was, as
always, a fool. "Submit!" I took another step.

"Tolo," the Queen commanded, and her voice suddenly quite different, quite
serious. "Restrain him."

The words of rebuke were already forming on my lips when I felt Alek's grip
on my arm, solid and strong. When I turned to look at him, his face had
gone pale and there was a wild look in his eye.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."


**********************************

The end is in sight! Feel free to send me encouragement or questions at
thephallocrat@gmail.com