Date: Wed, 13 Aug 2003 23:24:17 -0700 (PDT) From: Kris Gibbons 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.