Songspell

9 Nature's Livery

Hamlet: So oft it chances in particular men

That for some vicious mole of nature in them,

As in their birth, wherein they are not guilty,

(Since nature cannot choose his origin)

By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,

Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,

Or by some habit that too much o'erleavens

The form of plausive manners, that (these men,

Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,

Being nature's livery, or fortune's star)

Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,

As infinite as man may undergo,

Shall in the general censure take corruption

From that particular fault.

Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 4, Line 32

Kri-estaul, huddled fearfully in Evendal's arms, got hugged and kissed by everyone. Drussilikh vowed to have a declaration of adoption or adrogation ready for the royal seal before noontide. And to put the announcement up, beside the Scriveners note of acceptance of the Royal Charter, on every Crier's post in the city. Sygkorrin suggested that Aldul come back later to examine Kri, at a less festive and hectic moment.

As Evendal sat holding Kri-estaul, he thought again about the obstacles this child...his child faced, just in the commonplaces of every day. However dreadful the reason, this marvel weighed next-to-nothing; a condition Evendal vowed to change. Kri-estaul would need a tutor, one with a gentler manner than Evendal's own had had. Safe foods and loose but warm clothing. Loving attention and honest encouragement. The situation, politically, had to change for Evendal to be able to provide any of these necessities on a consistent basis. It was changing, and for the better, but not quickly enough to best serve Kri-estaul's needs.

With Kri-estaul bundled warmly, Evendal visited the Woodwose Guild, and spoke with an elderly gentlewoman, detailing what he wanted for all the pissoirs in the Palace. Faced with a casualty of the Inter-regnum in need, Pohul-halik dared not offer the transparent excuses she had previously written the Prince. So what began as a commission for the jakes in the Palace, segued into a Woodwose commitment to attend Council. Pohul-halik proved so affected by Kri's shy manner, haunted reactions, and affectionate nature, she promised a makeshift chair would be sent to the royal precincts that day, sanded smooth and safe. Pohul-halik had Kri-estaul sit in a number of chairs of differing upholstering, for a wheeled chair to be made in the future. While the boy seriously tested one overstuffed seat, Pohul-halik took Evendal aside.

"You are a cagey young man, and no doubt about it." She chided. "But I could still have refused you with little effort."

"Why didn't you, then?"

The lady snorted. "Your eyes intimidate, and almost scream of a power best not challenged. As you expected. They, alone, will get you through any door. But any anxiety I felt passed when the first words out of your mouth were a petition for... that urchin. That child is even sharper than you. And obviously adores you. Poor love, with all he's been through. It's also clear he has you where he wants you. I'll trust you with my people and myself, because he wants to trust you. Silly as that sounds." Pohul-halik paused, and she was not short of breath.

"And I am trusting you." The last words were a reminder and a warning.

"Makes perfect sense to me." Evendal replied, grinning wildly. "He's amazing, isn't he?"

"A wonder," she agreed, smiling knowingly back.

"My sophomoric attempts at coercion aside, thank you for indulging me."

"Believe me, it is my pleasure. I wish I could put his smile in a box for my bad days. Are you planning on taking him everywhere you go?"

"He won't leave my side. He objects to being held by anyone else. He may not get much rest around me, but his distress at my absence would undo any benefit such rest might provide. And to tell the truth, I don't want him away from my side. He is my heir."

Pohul-halik clutched her cane and laughed, loud and long. "Oh, gods! I like you, Your Majesty. And I like very few. Between you and your son, you make me feel almost young."

Kri-estaul wanted to know what was so funny.

"Lady Pohul-halik was just..."

"I can answer for myself, young man." She snapped. "Lord Evendal just told me congratulations are in order. I am delighted that he was wise enough to adopt you for his son."

"Oh?" Kri looked uncertain, doubtful of the explanation.

"Yes. I think you'll do him a world of good."

Kri-estaul contemplated his lap in his confusion but smiled, ignoring the pain of it.

"Goodness! You are going to dazzle people if you keep doing that."

Pohul-halik's comment was met with shocked silence, then Kri ducked his head. Evendal was beside him in a breath. He lifted the boy's head up. "Remember what I said, little man. You are beautiful, and every scar is a mark of honour."

The lady's voice came out weak, plaintive. "Forgive me, child. At my age I see things differently. All I saw was you. Your scars don't hide the fact that you are a beautiful child."

Kri-estaul sniffed, but could not hide with Evendal holding his chin. "I don't understand. I know what I look like. I don't understand."

Pohul-halik nodded. "Then trust me, trust us both, that when we say you are beautiful, we are not lying and we are not ignoring your scars. Listen to me, Kri-estaul, and believe this if you don't believe anything else: Anyone who doesn't see more than your scars, is someone not worth your time, anger or care."

When they departed the Woodwise, Kri-estaul slept on Evendal's shoulder. The King took advantage of the child's exhaustion to walk a circuit around the Palace. He walked with a careful gait from the Court and Records buildings past the Laundering and Storage houses, the Guard quarters and Ward, and around the residences to the second kitchen. Little had changed, near as Evendal could recall. Then Evendal entered the deserted secondary kitchen and proceeded through every section inside the Palace complex. When he got to Records, the King noted how the floor stones had come to resemble cobbles, a hazard. As the King scuffed a boot against a protruding stone Kri awoke. "What are we going to do now?"

"High Priestess Sygkorrin reminded me of a duty I neglected. So we are going to visit some of the people who, like you, were imprisoned in the under-grounds."

"Oh. Okay."

They made their way back again to the apartments.

"Who's there?"

"I am called Kri-estaul, I am here with my papa."

"How are you called, young man?"

"Estalevrh."

Kri-estaul looked uncertainly at Evendal, then hid his face in the King's shoulder. So Evendal enquired."How is it with you at the moment, Estalevrh?"

"Its great to feel a breeze again. I was afraid I was destined to die in the under-grounds."

"Do you have family in the City?"

"I did. But..." he swallowed. "I don't know if they still live, or if they fled the City, or died."

"Have you asked anyone?"

"As far as I know, the only visitors I have had have been to fill my water and empty the chamberpot. And the Guard, of course."

"The Guard would be the ones to ask."

Estalevrh laughed. "Not if I want to continue breathing."

"You do them an injustice. With the Inter-regnum past, they have resumed their traditional purposes."

Estalevrh cocked his head. "Who are you?"

"We are Evendal ald'Menam."

"He's... He's dead."

"If We were, you would not be here. Who blinded you?"

"Pol... the Lord Protector. When I criticized his methods of divide and conquer, he decided I saw too much."

Kri-estaul made a strangled noise, and leaned back against Evendal.

"Oh, I am getting better,... Kri-estaul? My weight will come back, and one of the people with the water said they had a blindfold I can use until the wounds heal. Don't worry about me. I... I just never thought I would grow up to beg on the street, or make my home in the Cinqet."

A request in his eyes, Kri looked up at Evendal, who smiled and mouthed 'We'll see.'

"Wait on the Lady Sygkorrin's assessment of your condition, good Estalevrh, and bend the ear of a Guard. If you do not find a willing ear, let the Lady Sygkorrin know. She will inform Us."

"You mean that, don't you?"

Kri-estaul blurted out a reply. "Of course. He came looking for me in the under-grounds and even though I can't walk and I'm scarred, he's my new papa."

Estalevrh laughed. "What?"

"It is true, Estalevrh. Kri-estaul was kind enough to consent to be my son. The Beast hamstrung him, more than once, and he had been down there for two years, alone."

"You're a tough kid, and a lucky one."

"So are you." Again, Kri-estaul stopped suddenly, as if just realizing he had spoken, and burrowed into Evendal's shoulder.

"What do you mean? I am blind."

"So, Kri-estaul can't walk. And you're both still breathing."

"Is there anyway we can help more?" Evendal asked.

"Come back?"

"As we can. I will not vow."

They passed to the bed on the other side of the apartment. A young woman sat up in the bed, watching them warily. Raised vertical ridges of scar tissue covered her face from nose to jawline.

"Greetings and health." Kri-estaul wished. "I am called Kri."

"Greetings and health." She whispered. "I heard you from over here. I am called Soandrh."

"How is it with you, good lady?"

"Aside from the remains of my face, and the mutilation of my clitoris and breasts? My now dead husband forced to watch me get plowed by the Beast and half of the Guard? I am glowing with good health and happiness." Bitterness dripped from her singsong tones.

Kri-estaul, pale face paler, whispered. "Plowed?"

The woman inhaled to reply, but the Prince spoke first. "They forced their hardened penises into her, against her will."

The boy began to tremble once again, his hands clutched at Evendal's arm. His breath started to come fast and shallow.

"Kri. Kri, rest easy. She is safe now. None will harm her again." Evendal turned to Soandrh, sadness toward her and fury at her mingled. "This, however late, I pledge to you, lady."

"Like... Like with... with me?" Kri-estaul stammered.

"Kri?"

The child did not hear Evendal. "The Terrible... Abduram. He forced his pee-stick into you, too?"

"Yes," The anger etched in Soandrh's scars vanished, replaced by surprise, then pain. "Oh, no! That vomit-sucking, worm-laying, diamond-hearted, bastard!"

Kri-estaul began to cry, not the soft body-trembling sobs Evendal had witnessed before, but loud, gut-wrenched, throat-burning wails. Evendal's efforts to draw Kri's attention, to soothe, failed repeatedly. The Prince was reduced to gripping the shaking, breath-gulping boy and rocking him, knowing like a weight in his heart that nothing he did or could do would help. Heartbroken for his son's ordeal, frightened at the child's lack of response, Evendal sank down beside Soandrh, oblivious of anyone else but the breathing wound in his arms.

"Kri, please... You're safe, love. You're safe. Talk to me. Beloved, please... Talk to me."

"Prig! Let him cry." Soandrh spat, tears swarming down the ridges of her own face.

"You don't understand." Evendal murmured. "Kri could cry the moon down, as long as he knows someone is there for him. But this hyperventilating... vomiting or diarrhea could throw what fragile health he has out the window. Oh, Kri, please."

"Here, give him over." Soandrh ordered. Evendal looked up at the woman, doubting her sanity.

Soandrh sat with every ridge of her face glistening, arms outstretched, a mix of emotions in her eyes. Slowly, uncertainly, Evendal transferred his precious burden. That Kri-estaul made no protest worried the Prince further. Soandrh held the wobbling, shuddering child for a moment, then laid him - stomach down - beside her.

"Wet the washcloth and hand it to me, please?" Evendal looked about, found the item, and obeyed.

"Hand me the metal box beside the basin, please?" Evendal complied. Soandrh opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind. Without fanfare, Soandrh took the washcloth, lifted the child's gown, and proceeded to cautiously, expertly, clean the child's buttocks.

"N... No!" Kri wailed, trying to turn over.

"Shhh... Easy, child. Relax, I know. Believe me, I know." Soandrh hushed. Purposefully or not, Soandrh began to hum, a low sonorous, soothing vibration. Kri-estaul began to shake more forcefully, but stopped trying to escape.

And quickly enough, Evendal also knew. Soandrh's efforts revealed an ugly draining wound on the right cheek near the anal opening. "Oh, Kri. My boy!" With great care and a steady hand, the woman cleared away the morning's mucus and blood.

Kri, who had quieted under Soandrh's humming and gentle hands, whispered into the bedding. "Am I? Am I still your boy? Even though I'm... I'm so bad?"

Evendal was grateful the child lay on his stomach, so he could not see the King's face. With unsteady fingers, he patted down the boy's bristle of straw-like hair. "I love you, Kri. More than my own life. More than my kingdom. You are my own good, sweet boy. You are not bad!"

Soandrh looked up when Kri spoke, to see this man's response, and saw two suns blazing in an anguished face. "Oh, my Lord! You are Lord Evendal." Evendal made no response, all his attention on the exhausted child. As Kri-estaul's eyes closed, Evendal turned his gaze on a poorly prepared Soandrh.

"What..." his voice failed him. "What caused this?"

"My lord," Soandrh whispered. "The Beast, or some lackey, tore the child's intestine buggering him. When that happens, sometimes it heals; sometimes the tear creates a channel through muscle to the outside. Dirt or detritus infect it. You were wiser than you knew to insist on calming him. If he gave himself the flux... unstopped, it could kill him."

"You have seen this before?"

"Yes. Among some of those wounded at Mausna, we received a few who had been captured by the Islanders, but had managed to escape later. Buggering your enemies is a common way of degrading them."

"We?"

"Yes," Soandrh replied impassively. "My husband and I had been healers. The Beast decided my 'beauty' was too great a tease. He wanted me. I refused to cuckold my husband. The Beast does not accept refusal."

"Nothing I say or do can help. I am grieved for the devastation you have endured, lady. If you find anything which gives you any degree of consolation, let me know and it is your's."

"Anything?" Soandrh glanced down at the child sleeping.

"No. He is not a bargaining counter. He is my son."

"You jest." Soandrh's tone dripped corrosive. "A damaged guild-brat with a spine of water?"

Stung, Evendal spit out. "A strong and brave boy who endured two years, hamstrung, in the under-grounds."

"I don't believe it! Am I face to face with a ruler who hasn't left his heart in the midden? What oyster were you pried out of?" Seeing the pain dominating Evendal's features, Soandrh desisted.

"Forgive me, lord. I am an angry, bitter widow. I have every right to be! My one dream of consolation in the under-grounds was the fancy of burying a dagger in what the Beast had for a heart."

"I did it instead. In fact, he ran at me and skewered himself on my blade."

"In truth?" Soandrh chuckled at the image and, for a moment, wonder replaced the resignation in her eyes. "Lord. This sore need not plague your son. However..."

"However?"

"What needs to be done is hard, painful, and will overtax the boy's patience. Is Sygkorrin still in primacy?"

"Yes."

"She knows what needs to be done. I would trust her over anyone else. But after she is done, the child will need you right there, every moment. For an extended recovery."

"He will have me beside him every moment." Evendal vowed quietly.

Soandrh shook her head. "Why does he mean so much to you?"

Evendal shrugged, imitating Aldul. "Because."

A shadow startled Evendal, and he turned to see the bemused face of High Priestess Sygkorrin. "Greetings and health, Soandrh. Greetings and health, Your Majesty." Aldul, behind the Priestess, nodded in turn.

"Aldul. Good to see you. Lady Sygkorrin... Would you be so kind as to examine Kri-estaul? Now?"

The Priestess raised an eyebrow, taking in the dampened features on both faces, and the discarded cloth and basin. "Why do I think what I find will be no surprise? Lord Evendal, if you would move aside for a moment?"

Evendal complied, and watched as Sygkorrin took out what looked like a large coin. First, barehanded, she ran her fingers lightly over Kri's supine body. Starting at the crown she tapped twice on the back of the head, once on the neck, once near the heart and three times in a line below the ribs. Sygkorrin hesitated with the last tap she made, over the coccyx. Next she took a clean cloth and dampened a corner of it. She rubbed the coin across the fingertips of both hands, dropped it, and spread the boy's buttocks. Looking up at Soandrh, she nodded, and the widow placed one hand on the child's nape and an arm securely across the legs. Once Soandrh was in place, Sygkorrin probed around the sore.

Kri-estaul awoke and tried to thrash, thwarted by Soandrh. Sygkorrin finished quickly, using the cloth to wipe the mucus that had emerged from her pressuring. Soandrh removed her arm and hand, and Kri-estaul flipped over, legs atangle.

"My apologies for surprising you, Kri-estaul. But I needed to examine you. And that sore."

Kri-estaul looked up, pain and fear bunching up his face. When Sygkorrin extended her hands, Kri batted them away. "Don't touch me. Please."

"Kri-estaul," Soandrh called. The boy looked up at the widow. "Sygkorrin understands. Take her hand, please."

Timidly, face full of rebellion, Kri-estaul reached out to touch the Priestess's outstretched hand. When Sygkorrin made no other move, Kri grasped her hand.

"Hmmm. Some toxicity. He's not only exhausted, he's depleted. The fissure stems from the small bowel. Other than that, nothing we weren't aware of."

"Can you rid him of it?" Evendal asked, softly.

"Yes. But not right away. First he needs to get more rested, flesh-up some. Get rid of the tremors. And there is something you are going to have to do, Lord Evendal, which Kri-estaul is not going to like one bit."

"What is that?"

"Every time he empties his bowels, you clean his bum. Not so much with a cloth, but rather with water only whenever possible. The less irritated that area is, the better all around."

Kri-estaul began to cry again, softly. Evendal returned to smoothing the boy's hair.

When the child quieted, Soandrh looked at the Priestess, concerned. "Are you planning a slice-up?"

The Priestess shook her head. "I am hoping that that cutting won't be needed. The bodies of children can be made to forget what was done to them a lot more readily than their hearts can." Without warning, Sygkorrin sat down on the floor in front of a bewildered Kri-estaul. "The legs will have to be amputated, but not right now."

Evendal felt his stomach clench in dread.

The Priestess addressed Kri-estaul. "I'm afraid you are not going to like me very much."

"Why is that?"

"Because I want you to eat stuff you may not like. Soft, mushy stuff, and a lot of it. And don't guess whether something is okay to eat. If I haven't listed it, you don't eat it. Understand?"

Kri nodded, ruffling the bed linen.

"It hurts when you clean your backside, doesn't it?"

Kri nodded again. "That's because I am bad. A bunch of times, when I was bad, Lord Abduram stuck his pee-stick up there. It hurt so much I went to sleep. Since he stopped, it doesn't hurt as much." He took a harsh breath.

"Please don't put me down there again, I'll try to be good. Please." The plea came out in a murmur.

"What can I do?" Evendal asked. "I've told him he's not bad."

"Keep telling him." Soandrh replied.

"And showing him." Sygkorrin added. "You have been doing well, it's just going to take quite a while before he understands that you mean it." Soandrh nodded.

Evendal whispered to the supine form. "Kri-estaul, do you know what you are?"

"W... What?"

"You are my son. I could have chosen any child in the City, and with an exchange of money, they would have given me dozens of children to adopt."

"You could?"

"Yes. And who did I choose?"

"M... Me."

"Yes. Do you see a dozen children flocking around me?"

"No. But... "

"Shhh. And you won't. Because no matter what Lord Abduram said, no matter what he did to you, I choose you. Every bell of every day. Do you hear me?"

"You... you still want me?"

"Yes!" He thought a moment, and added the assurance. "As my son."

With a herculean effort, Evendal dredged up a smile. "Now, what's my name?"

"Evendal."

"No. What's my name?"

Kri-estaul thought. "My friend?"

"That's my nickname. What's my name?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Its Papa."

"I think I'm going to be ill." Soandrh said, but she was crying still.

"Do not ever doubt that, Kri. Ever. And I count myself the luckiest King who could ever have been." The eyes, which had dimmed slightly, now flared. "There is no part of you, no thought or deed, which is evil. Not your hand, not your mouth or eyes, not your bum. Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes... Papa."

"Do you believe me, Kri?"

"I... I get scared. I don't know what to do."

"Just hold on to me. If I don't know, I can pretend real good."

"Okay. I like doing that." Kri hesitated again, then whispered so low, Evendal barely heard. "Papa."

The Prince picked up his child and nestled him against his chest. "Rest now, my son. I love you. Everything will be fine."

As Kri-estaul wiggled about, trying to get comfortable, Soandrh objected. "My lord, you have meetings, judgments, people to finesse, a thousand decisions to make. Your son would take all your time, surely you can appoint an au pair..."

"No." Evendal glared at the widow. "Those I meet must simply accept that I am the father of more than just Osedys."

Pohul-halik's first chair arrived that afternoon. And by the following day, the Palace buzzed with woodworkers targeting every nook and cranny of the Palace, mapping the locations of the pissoirs. The whole effort became the source of courtier humour for quite some time. Evendal, far from indifferent, passed along some of the jests, once he realised Kri did not take them personally.

"So what if they say 'Every toilet is now a throne, every shitter now a King'? That's just stupid stuff."

"The one I like says I got lost for nine years because I went looking for a perfumed latrine."

Kri-estaul's constant companioning of Evendal survived every entreaty to propriety, common sense, or custom. Bruddbana pointed out the possible emotional impact on the boy should meetings and councils turn abusive. Evendal countered that the child's presence could be a mitigating factor at such highly charged confrontations.

The whole conversation, spoken with Kri-estaul seated in Evendal's lap, had Bruddbana sweating.

"My lord. It would be so easy for Emial of Kernost to hurt a child like Kri-estaul. He eats fire and breathes acid at these Councils. All he would have to do is say that Kri's condition is the way you want Osedys - crippled and... dependant on Royal largesse."

"You mean a beggar." Evendal corrected, grinning.

"And that you adopted him because of your own inability..."

"You mean he would get as personal as he can. Interesting man. That you can tell me these specifics means that he already is saying such. Who else?"

"He is the worst," Bruddbana reported. "Most of the others had kin or vassals returned from the under-grounds. So both gratitude, and an awareness of how special Kri-estaul is, would civilize their tempers. But Emial is the most forceful and voluble speaker during councils. Opposition to any proposal or edict you make will be presented by Emial."

Evendal pondered a moment. "Come this Council, We must relinquish the Wise Counselor to the Cinqet. He is theirs, so it shall be done. What do you want to wager, Emial is testing his poison as a preliminary to that event?"

Bruddbana grew thoughtful. "It is possible. He and Jek-kandere have always had dust on their noses from kissing the traitor's heels. So Falrija insisted."

When Evendal did not respond immediately, Bruddbana looked at Kri-estaul who looked right back at him. Taking advantage of the King's distraction, Kri stuck his tongue out at the Guard and crossed his eyes. Bruddbana smiled, then growled menacingly.

"That's enough, you little imp."

"Yes, Papa." Kri said sweetly, sticking his tongue out a second time.

"Bruddbana, how far away is Kernost?"

"Two bell's walk east from the City proper."

"And those thirty or so Guard that did not respond to the summons to clean out the under-ground, what do you dare to wager most hail from Kernost?"

"I would not dare at all, sire. But I can confirm it quickly enough. And will."

"There are a few other things We want before the meeting. Have the Guard cover the doorway to the Chamber, as traditional. But tomorrow, We want things done a bit differently, a bit of insurance, if you will. We intend to interview the Most Wise Counselor prior to relinquishing responsibility for his person. But in private first, today, and a second time in the meeting. Do you have some Guard who are good runners?"

"Yes, my lord. Four I can think of."

"Kernost will be here early, might even be here now. Chatting up his enemies and friends. If those absent Guard indeed have ties with Kernost, I want to meet with them today, also. We will want one hundred of the Guard to start out, as quickly as they can be assembled, for Kernost's demesne. If thirty are from Kernost, they can do the actual searching, the others held ready in case they need help. Its not a very large fief, so We expect that the manourhouse and immediate grounds will be all your men need to search. No one is to be hurt, roughed up, or threatened."

"I keep that many in readiness. More, actually."

"What?" Evendal looked wide-eyed at his Guardsman.

"In preparation for this Council, in case of trouble in the Chamber, or surprise attacks to secure P... the traitor."

"Sharp man!" Evendal looked down at his son. "Kri, listen. Even I am a bit afraid for you. You could take a nap in our room, and I'd be finished before you would know I'm gone."

The child looked up briefly, then back down into his lap.

"Kri, please. Talk to me. Say the first thing that comes into your head. It is safe, I promise you."

"I'd know." Came the softest of whispers. Kri-estaul tensed, hunching his back.

Evendal kissed Kri on the back of the head. "So would I. Okay. But if I hand you to someone, you go with them. Hear me?"

Kri-estaul nodded.

"Now brace up, we have a bit of a walk ahead. Do you need to use the jakes?"

Kri nodded again. Humming softly, Evendal took Kri to the nearest jakes, sat him down, then left to stand outside the door. Despite the impersonal necessities Sygkorrin delineated, when Kri had to urinate, he timourously had asked for privacy. It was a gesture, a sign of consideration, which Evendal felt only too happy to give.

"I'm done." Kri called. Evendal re-entered, and Kri pulled up his undergarments at the same time the King lifted him by gripping him under his arms.

The King, the Prince, a scribe and two Guard proceeded north into Khanderif.

"I fear I cannot offer you refreshments, the kitchen-staff here is appalling." Polgern drawled. "I know what you are styling yourself. The hapless Prince Evendal the Forgettable. But your... companion is new to me."

"Prince Kri-estaul, meet the man who had my father murdered, Master Polgern son of Morruth."

"How charming, a bastard princeling? The Evendal I knew did nothing without Mother's approval. And she was saving the boy for herself. If you're Evendal, you astonish me!"

"Mother is retired to Arkedda. Her health required a change of scene. More honestly, my health required it."

"Hmmm. And you have a backbone, too. Why do you bother me today?"

"You know tomorrow's Council will prove pivotal."

"Oh, yes. When you feed me to the canaille."

"How you wish to view it is your concern. Your actions have left me with a lot of questions, Polgern." Kri wiggled a bit, and used his arms to look over Evendal's shoulder.

"Well, of course. I am a man of many parts. A mystery."

"No," Evendal replied coldly. "Not a mystery. An unimaginative idiot!"

"How dare you! The Evendal I recall would hardly stoop to childish insults."

"I don't insult, I assess: You seriously thought that you could intimidate or control any man who did an assassination for you? You seriously thought that the populus, however sheeplike you deemed them, would simply roll over and let you suck the life out of them? Shenrowyn, Sygkorrin, Alekrond, the late Quill-master, all testify to the fact that you are an idiot. As does the fact that between you and the Beast, only one third of the Guard had to be retired. Despite nine years of effort on your part. And your empty-headed fantasy of creating an empire!" Polgern's head shot up in astonishment.

"You tax an already wounded and grieving city beyond its breaking point, create an atmosphere where only betrayal and graft endure, abusing citizens left and right. Plotting and planning in case of reprisals from the other provinces, for when you send out other incipient Abdurams. You were creating an empire that would have been a wasteland even the Kul could not compete with! You. Are. An. Idiot!"

Polgern stood frozen for a long, serene moment.

"And your reason for visiting me is to enlighten me before I die?"

"No, I want to understand. How you accomplished your coup."

"You mean who I conspired with."

"Yes, Master Polgern. You can do this with or without your dignity intact." Kri-estaul giggled, still supporting himself with his arms.

"Your Majesty," Polgern replied, all indulgent smiles. "I am about to die. I have no intention of confessing my crimes, my triumphs or my collaborators. And my dignity cannot be taken from me, no matter what tortures you adapt."

Evendal returned the smile. "Master Polgern. As a t'bo, you are without the rights of the citizens you destroyed. But torture is hardly necessary."

Speak, you baseborn traitor,

Let no silence remain

What you've hoarded unveil,

Who you worked with make plain.

With the same drawling tone, Polgern enunciated. "Pylan-drest, the Militia Comptroller, she supplied the arms We have been stockpiling. Gres-lauri placed Abduram beside your father in battle. Horest the Stone-smith, and his apprentice, planned the city defenses. Mar-Elionir of Kandere and Emial of Kernost, infiltration strategies, barracks and expediters. Fieronith the Metal-smith made Our under-ground toys."

Polgern's abuse of the royal plurality was not lost on Evendal. "By expediters, you mean assassins."

"If you wish to be crude about it, yes."

"Thank you, Master Polgern. It has been a very enlightening visit."

Polgern squinted, blinked rapidly, and gasped. "What have you done?!"

"What I must. Prepare yourself for Council, Master Polgern."

When Evendal and Kri-estaul had left the Tower, Kri looked up at his father. "Papa,"

Evendal stopped walking at the thoughtful tone. "Yes, beloved."

"That was a nasty old man."

"Yes."

"But who was the man standing beside you? You never even said a word to him."

Evendal's heart beat faster, but he maintained an outward calm. "If I were to make a guess, Kri, I would reckon you saw Surnmeddil, a former ruler of this land. He was an ancestor of mine."

Kri-estaul smiled. "He was funny. We made faces at each other. It was a lot more fun than what you were doing."

"Yes, I dare say it was. I am afraid I didn't see him."

"But he was right behind us. You walked past him when we left that room."

"Yes, but I didn't see him. That tower is special, Kri. Its his home, I think. And if he doesn't want a person to see him, they won't."

"Oh. Okay. How come I saw him?"

"Because he liked you, of course. Who wouldn't?"

Kri-estaul hid his face in Evendal's shoulder. They resumed walking.

"So, is that other man going to die tomorrow?"

"No. I don't think so, but he will soon. Tomorrow I hand him over to his executioners."

"Good." Kri-estaul decided, and said nothing more for the length of their walk. Evendal had not known how ruthless children could be.

Back at the Palace, Bruddbana awaited. "My lord. You should hire out as a soothsayer."

"Kernost. Are they gathered together?"

"Waiting in the next room for orders. I told them there has been a change. They assumed I meant the duty roster."

"Good work. Kri,... " The boy looked at Evendal solemn-faced. "Nevermind." With a deep breath, Evendal followed Bruddbana into the allotted room.

"Alright, you louts! Pipe down."

When the crowd recognized Bruddbana's companion, they knelt without a word.

"Less than a week past, the command went out for all Guard to report in. Every corner of the city rang with the Crier's Call. Where were you?"

Silence met his question.

"You will notice, We did not ask, 'Why did you not report in?' That is because We know why." He let quiet linger before he spoke again.

"That you kneel here today is proof to Us that you do not, in and of yourselves, harbour ill-will toward Our reign. You did not report in, for fear that the residents of the under-grounds would point you out as the jailers who apprehended them on the authority of the Master of Kernost. Jailers who had taken them to further the personal purposes of the Master of Kernost, not of the duumvirate. Torn between two loyalties, you decided to do nothing. Tell Us We are wrong."

Silence met his challenge.

"Today. Here and now. We must know whom you stand loyal to. Who claims your honour? Once before We granted a clemency unwarranted."

From the middle of the kneeling group, one woman looked up and whispered. "You speak truth, Lord. We did not know what to do. Our lord of Kernost has been doing alarming things. But no one named him as anything but friend of the Court. Our presence would implicate our sponsor into the Guard."

In a voice whisper-soft, Evendal sang.

With the light mine eyes glow,

Show for whom this is not so.

To Evendal's relief, Kri, Bruddbana, and the Prince's two Guard, alone, shared a faint nimbus of amber, which quickly faded.

"Let Us tell you what alarming things the Lord of Kernost has been doing. Conspiring with the Most Wise Counselor to assassinate the Heir of Arkedda. Training a select group to masquerade as an embassy to Arkedda, to be an usurping force at the moment of greatest turmoil."

"Whence came this intelligence, good Lord?"

"From the lips of the Wise Counselor, himself. The Court Critical shall hear him tomorrow." The Prince surveyed the gathered Guard with a grim countenance and stony expression. "Regardless of your reasons, you failed a summons, when We most needed the comfort of your steadfastness and dependability. The ruler depends on his Guard, as He depends on no one else. By choosing to do nothing, not even sending word, you made a decision. You discarded Our hope and trust in you. By forcing Us to... to corral you here in order to learn your justifications, you further demonstrate how little you value your oath, Our trust." Evendal halted for a moment, hating what he had to say.

"When We accepted your oaths, We gave the oath-breakers their lives. That was not a grace to be repeated at each betrayal. We cannot function without reciprocal trust. By your own admissions, with your silence giving confirmation, your lives are now Ours!"

A woman toward the front stood, eyes flooded, and cried. "Lord, we beg you! If no word reached you, it was through no waywardness on our part. When we agreed to abide, rather than rally, we sent a messenger to both report our dilemma and return with orders. He never returned. I think, now, that he turned coat and fled for Kernost. But at that time..."

Evendal nodded. "All you knew was that your messenger never came back. Which, under the previous rule, meant he had been executed by a ruler displeased."

"When the next day passed, and no reprisal came, we again did not know what to do. We would not put another of our company in possible jeopardy..."

Evendal glared at the speaker, incredulous. "There is a device called 'the chain of command'. It exists for that purpose."

"But when neither comment, nor reprimand, came down that chain of command... we feared some trap." The woman explained, face lowered.

Thunder and Lightning! How did anything get accomplished here? Evendal wondered. "And now?"

The quiet throbbed.

"Our decisions as a company have been a succession of errors, lord. So I will speak only for myself." The woman drew in a long breath. "These last few days have been unbearable. As I should have from the outset, I abide by your wisdom and will in this, my error. You were our lord. Our responsibility was to you, for good or ill. And we spurned the kindness you had demonstrated."

"Who else would say the same?"

The woman standing turned to look over the company. As her gaze roamed, each head nodded.

"Then understand this, believe it. We do not punish uncertainty, or the natural gratitudes accumulated in one's life. You are Our Guard. Our Guard. No one can be what you are for Us, for me." Evendal stopped, clearing his throat.

"We said earlier that your lives were now Ours. But that has always been true. If We say that We see before Us a Guard that strove to find an honourable means of resolving a difficult dilemma. If We offer a means of demonstrating your honesty and fidelity, in a service no other company can provide as well. A gesture to redeem your honour and standing. And if We say, We give your lives back to you, to do what you will. What will you?"

The woman standing again looked about her, then slowly, matching gazes with the Prince, approached to within ten feet and knelt. "I, Mulienhas, pledge my life in service to your will."

Evendal took the woman's hand, as Kri-estaul watched, and replied. "We accept your service and your gift. Henceforth stand in Our Presence, Mulienhas of Osedys."

One by one, in precise order, the thirty walked up and pledged their faith. Their oaths received, Evendal nodded to Bruddbana to give them their marching-orders, resettled Kri-estaul, and left.

When the sun set, Evendal and Kri-estaul took their supper. From his own sense of equity, Evendal shared Kri-estaul's diet of oatmeal and cranberry juice. As the King anticipated would happen repeatedly, Kri began to shiver in a sudden fever. Evendal applied some oil of camphor to promote skin circulation and wrapped the tired, miserable child in blankets. They slept the first night in a pillowed, high-back chair.

The next day, after a quiet fast breaking with his son, Evendal left his apartment to review Guard detail with Bruddbana, then settled into a fitful discussion with Ierwbae, Metthendoen and Aldul.

"I cannot advise you on this, lord. The idea troubles me, but the alternative is unacceptable." Metthendoen claimed.

"This is not like taking the Guard oath. These people come to Court to rightfully represent their own interests. But..."

"But believing their wants are equivalent to Osedys' needs is dangerous arrogance. It is treason, perhaps the most subtle." Aldul affirmed.

"The Council meets for the good of the common weal. That is, perhaps, the line you can draw. And equity in verity." Ierwbae tendered.

"So, with those limits, what I plan does not trouble you?"

"What you propose does not coerce those of goodwill, nor even the indifferent. So, no, not overmuch." Metthendoen assured.

"That confirmed, I have only one other reservation." Evendal glanced down at the boy asleep in his arms.

Aldul smiled. "How many times have you fought that battle, and lost?"

The Prince did not smile back.

Council traditionally commenced at noontide, with the King as the last to enter. Evendal saw no reason to change the order of things. So, with a wide-eyed Kri-estaul beside him, seated in Pohul-halik's new wheeled-chair, Evendal waited for the outside doors to be closed, and the court scribes at the ready, before making his entrance. Kri-estaul preceded him, wheeling himself to the side of the Throne.

"Attend! Attend!" Henhyroc shrilled, cutting through every conversation echoing through the Chamber. "His Majesty, the Left Hand of the Unalterable, Sword-brother to the Sea, Evendal m'Alismogh ald'Menam a Onkira, Heir of Osedys and the Thronelands, has come to sit in judgment. Draw near, let justice, equity and wisdom rule in this place and time." Henhyroc's high thin piping rang through the astonished throng.

And Evendal strode in, removed the trident once more from its stand, and sat on the Throne. As the King sat, so did the Council. For this, a Council Critical, the regular display of nine High Council seats, usually flanking the Throne on the dais, had been removed.

"Greetings and health to you all." Evendal began. "Most of you are unfamiliar to Us, though We see a few faces from Our past. Let Us begin by saying that Our return home has been educational, and distressing in the extreme. It has taken Us nine years to come back from places and paths best left unremembered, and We return to find desolation and infamy. For those of you who cowered in your manors over the past few weeks, let Us apprise you: We returned to find the man who conspired to assassinate Our father, Lord Menam, sitting as co-ruler with the assassin. We found the City devouring its citizens, betraying its purpose, on the whims of these few imbeciles. And no one, no one of you, willing to co-operate in defiance - until We had rid you of their threat."

A roll of protest and bluster moved to and fro through the Chamber. People shouted, raised their fists and cursed at the King, some began to snap at each other, assigning blame with comic fever. The noise ebbed and crested at different places and moments, until Evendal sang out. "Silence now." And that is what he got, along with a sea of stunned and angry faces.

"Then the lengths it took to get you brave people to assemble for this Council! Well, having dragged you here by nonsense and coercion, let Us tell you what the Council agenda is today." When Evendal nodded, Heamon and Ierwbae came through the Royal entrance, a manacled Polgern in tow. "This is not a Court of Honour, nor a Court of Equity or of Chancery. Those of you hoping to mouth empty words for the restoration of your privileges are condemned to dis-appointment. In Us you have a court superior and of competent jurisdiction unconditional."

"That assassin some of you labeled 'the Beast' is dead by Our hand. The deluded elder you called 'the Most Wise Counselor' sought to kill Us, with no success, and has been our quiet guest since."

One man, short, barrel-chested, stood and called out. "So that is all you called us for? To witness the murder of our leadership?"

Evendal smiled. "And you are called?"

"Emial of Kernost. Unless you have suddenly decided Kernost is your's, too. Or Kandere, or the Tinde-lands. I have a grievance, Your questionable Majesty. I have a grievance. Over these few years I have sponsored some thirty kids to the Guard. Come to find out, because they did not jump when you whistled, you gathered them in under threat of Royal displeasure. What have you done with them? What have you done?"

"As the King's Guard, they were Ours to do with as We chose. Though they had failed their oaths, We were merciful. We dispatched them yesterday evening."

The crowd's hushed dismay magnified with the Chamber acoustics, sounding like the roar of the surf. Yet Emial had not finished.

"And is this pip-and-squeak one of the reasons you executed thirty sons and daughters of my vassals?" he asked, pointing to Kri-estaul. "Who is this, Your Majesty?"

"This is Our son, by adrogation, Kri-estaul. A survivor of the Beast's tender mercies, and two years down in the under-grounds. You know of the under-grounds, Master Emial... You directed those thirty Guard to consign your personal enemies to that same under-ground. I told you I 'dispatched' those Guard, I did not execute them. I dispatched them to your manor, Emial of Kernost, to report what they found there. You conspired with Master Polgern in a plan to assassinate Arkedda's sole male Heir. You have been arranging for a private Guard, with sufficient arms for over one thousand, and barracks, on your manor-grounds."

"That is a lie. You come out of nowhere; accuse a man who has grown old and gray in service to the Thronelands of the worst of perfidies. Appoint some leprous half-wit the Heir, malign hard-working loyal sons like myself. And expect us to applaud the return of the Kingship? Spouting outrageous accusations does not make them true. Show us proof! Show us proof!"

"I can do that." Evendal snapped his fingers, a pre-arranged signal, and a fresh-faced woman in Guard livery stepped out. "Guard Mulienhas, formerly of Kernost. Report on what you found in the Kernost manor-grounds."

Emial shouted. "No!"

Kri-estaul, though as engrossed as the others in all the hysterics, caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his chair slightly, he saw the doorway to the under-grounds ajar, and a man in Guard livery poised behind the Throne, raising a long knife. With a cry of "No!" he launched his chair at the threatening figure. The man saw the attack coming, jumped back and swung his blade, losing it in Kri's breastbone. Kri's initial movement had alerted Ierwbae, who abandoned Polgern to skewer the attacker. Evendal turned in time to see Kri's chair hit the wall.

The King was beside that chair in a breath, but the breath was not Kri-estaul's. As Evendal gathered up the motionless bundle, the attacker, gasping on the floor, stretched his hand out to Emial and gurgled out. "Father!" With two soggy pants, the attacker died.

When Evendal m'Alismogh turned from the chair, Kri-estaul cradled in his arm, his eyes incandesced. "Your son!" he thundered, focusing on Emial.

The courtier, eyes swimming, nodded, opening his mouth to protest.

"You cannot speak!" Evendal shrieked. And Emial found that to be so.

"You may not breathe." And after twenty heartbeats, Emial's face began to darken to a red and blue. Slowly, Evendal advanced down from the dais. Aldul hurried over to try and calm his friend, but found he could not get near. As Evendal marched down to the seats, it became clear the only people allowed in his Circle of Presence would be the dead child and the Master of Kernost.

Carefully, as gently as he could, Evendal pulled the blade from Kri's motionless chest. Grimacing, with eyes holding Emial captive, the Prince wiped blood from the blade onto Emial's lips, then his purpling cheeks. In a soft singsong, Evendal ordered. "Breathe, Emial."

And the Manourlord took one shuddering lungful, then a second.

"You may not breathe." Evendal hummed. And Emial again struggled in vain.

"You lowly dung-loving, water-spined cretins!" Evendal's voice boomed through the Chamber, vibrating the stones. "So you want an Abduram? An Emial? Well, henceforth may it be as you wish. We are the Left hand of the Unalterable. From this moment, that is all We will be. And Our judgment? We grant you all that you have striven for. Let Our home be a City of the Dead. Osedys! The Great Necropolis!(21) Jackal-spawn Emial's death-song will be simply the first melody in Our Cycle of Chaos and Pain. Of Justice without Clemency! Congratulations, you comfort-blind imbeciles! You are getting what you deserve. Death! Pain! Pain..."

Even as Evendal declaimed, the door to the Chamber, to which the Court had been moving, burst into flame. As Emial asphyxiated, the song of his passing wracked Evendal's body, and flame crept up the stonework. "Oh, Kri!" Evendal shouted. The Kul-stone ceiling became wreathed in orange and blue. "My son! My brave boy! My heart! My heart..." Evendal began to sob, and the stones began to crack with heat.

The court scribes had stopped their efforts when the door sprouted fire. Drussilikh fought her way through the clustering mass and, unable to approach, sobbed out her own pain.

From the Royal entrance, Sygkorrin strode off the dais and through the Circle of Presence that so hampered the others. "Evendal. Oh dear man."

"No! Get away. I can't! Don't ask mercy, there is none!" He saw the scribes and nobles headed to the dais and the Royal entranceway.

You shall not leave here. That door is closed to you. You shall remain. There is no other avenue.

Ignoring the Priestess, Evendal rocked the still, small form. His tears washed the child's forehead and dripped on the bloodsotted chest.

"Oh, Kri-estaul. My brave man. Don't be dead. Please! Live, by Thunder! Live. To marry, have children, and grow old. Whatever you will. Just live! I need my boy." m'Alismogh's eyes became twin suns. Sygkorrin shielded her own eyes too late to spare them the green after-images. "I need my brave son, alive." And the Songmaster sank to the floor, weeping.

"Evendal, we are in danger."

The words struck Evendal like a strange echo, a deja vu in a deeper voice.

"So? Run. I strive for justice and I get paid in treachery. He's dead! Do you think I want to live? Why would I care who lives?" He looked up at the Priestess, who could not meet his bright gaze. "Oh, very well."

Those who never sought more Than the welfare of their people, their home, May walk from this hall, Free to bicker, free to rant, free to groan."

The flames disappeared. Sygkorrin knelt down beside Evendal and motioned Aldul forward. The Kwo-edan rushed to his friend's side, tears wetting his tunic. Manourlords, so anxious to exit, tarried; astonished that anyone would approach the dread creature.

"Aldul?" The Prince dully focused on the man beside him.

The Kwo-edan nodded, unable to speak.

"I failed to keep him... safe." Evendal looked down again at the child in his lap, but could not see a thing. "I loved him more than my life. And I couldn't..."

With a lurch, Kri-estaul vomited blood onto Evendal's lap.

No one moved for a long drawn out breath. With trembling, encrimsoned hands, Evendal touched Kri-estaul's chest, only to feel it press forward in a shallow breath.

"I don't feel so good." Kri murmured, sleepily. "Papa?" He turned his head, to peer up at a breathless Evendal. "Papa? Are you okay? Did I stop him?"

Seeing a like astonishment on the faces of Aldul and Sygkorrin, Evendal presumed his own sanity. "Yes." He gasped. "Yes, you did. My brave, brave, man. I am proud of you, and don't you ever do that again!"

Kri-estaul smiled, smug. "Why am I all sticky?"

"You... You died."

"Oh. Okay. You're all messy, too. Can we get cleaned up?"

"As soon as Priestess Sygkorrin looks you over." Hands shaking, Evendal lifted a protesting Kri-estaul into Sygkorrin's arms, then managed to stand with Aldul's assistance. He lurched over to the Throne, leaned on it for support, and raked the Council-members with luminous scorn.

"You will be back here in two bells. This Council is not over."

Heamon, Polgern's shadow, smiled.

"But, my most puissant lord, this room is not safe!"

"Here. Two bells. This room is much safer than We are." Evendal reminded. The King smiled, an expression devoid of warmth. "Now, those of you who can, may go. Until then."

All but four of the Manorlords left, scurrying in silence until out of earshot. The court scribes did not know what to do, and the Matron didn't care enough to direct them. Drussilikh sat beside her brother, smiling through the hollows that grief had etched on her face. Bruddbana bound Jek-kandere, Horest Stone-smith, and the Militia Comptroller, then settled them beside Polgern.

Sygkorrin stood with Kri-estaul in her arms, walked to the wall, adjusted the wheeled chair and set the quiet child in it. The two of them returned to Evendal, who slumped into the Throne.

"He is as you see him." Sygkorrin declared. "Tired, shocky, weak from blood-loss, proud as a peacock to have saved his Papa. And the only scars on his chest are verminous."

Evendal, who had thought himself too exhausted for any further emotion, lifted Kri-estaul out of his chair, cuddled him to his heart, and wept.

--------------------------------------------- (21) Lit. - Fortress of Corpse-Ashes