This story is a work of fiction. It contains references to violent behavior between adults and children, 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.
Warning: This chapter is not easy reading, the greater number of pages involve violence to a minor, and its effects.
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.
13 What's Hecuba To Him
Hamlet: What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have?
Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2, Line 569
"Then, n... Now, Papa."
The King sighed. "I don't like this. I don't think its wise. Kri-estaul, you are still... not well."
"Please, Papa! Please! I need to know!"
Evendal stared, bewildered, into the desperate countenance. "What? What pushes you so?"
"You are all so... so good to me. Even though..." Kri-estaul swallowed and forced the words out. "Even though I'm dirty and stupid and slow and bad." The list played on Evendal's ears like a meaningless litany. "But. But..." Kri-estaul either could not voice the thought, or feared to.
"But what?"
"But you don't know. You've got to know. You don't know... what I am." Kri-estaul curled around in a ball, hugging his stomach. "You don't. Just don't hate me." he whispered. "I try... tried to be good."
Had he not witnessed this quicksilver transformation in his son, Evendal would not have credited it. "Shhh. I can see we need to begin this, at least. And I gave you a promise, Kri-estaul. I promised I would not hate you. I meant it. And mean it now."
The eight-year old remained curled, but relaxed slightly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry...P.Papa. But, you don't know. You've got to know."
"And when I know what you went through? What do you think will happen then?" Evendal asked the brutal question softly.
For a long time the only sound in the room came from the mingled breathing patterns of the two occupants. Kri-estaul's breath came out erratic and syncopated. When that showed no sign of change, Evendal asked again. "What do you think will happen then?"
Kri-estaul's voice burbled, barely coherent. "You won't love me any more. Or you'll... only bear with me."
"Bear with you?" Evendal responded. "Do you mean 'just tolerate you'?"
Kri-estaul nodded.
Evendal took it as a sign of progress that at least the child did not expect the physical cruelty he had known. "Tolerate you? Kri, I am King. I don't have to tolerate anyone. That would be cruel of me. But please listen to me for a moment. I know some of what you feel, Kri-estaul. And something of the way you are thinking. Not enough, maybe. I haven't felt like you do for a long time. Twisted, and its not anything you can change or reach, or bargain away. No matter how much talking to yourself you do, or how watchful you are, the dirtiness and twisting floats up inside. And at the happiest times, to make them bad, to ruin them for you."
Kri-estaul stared up at his father, his mouth slightly open, tears and amazement in his eyes. His breathing had calmed.
"I'm right here, Kri-estaul. And I love you, as my son. Whatever you need to tell me, I will listen. It will not get old. It will not, my son! The feelings that eat at you will go away, but not quickly. So, however often you need to talk, I want you to talk to me." And glancing at the wall beside them, Evendal was reminded how the same stonework went down four levels. "But not in here. Can... Can we go outside?"
After a moment Kri-estaul realised he was being asked, and nodded vigourously.
"Of course, you know I have to have Guard close by? They will hear what you say also."
Kri-estaul thought on that for a moment. "Can one of them be Uncle Ierwbae? Or Uncle Metthendoenn?" Though tentatively voiced, he carefully pronounced their full names.
"Yes. We can ask them." Evendal remembered Sygkorrin's advisement. "And would you mind awfully if Aldul sat with us?"
Kri frowned. "Why?"
Evendal pondered what he could say without breaking faith. "He went through some cruel times, too. And he is good at listening."
"You like him a lot, don't you?"
"Yes. Like I told you, he helped me through a very scary time."
"Oh. Would he... He's nice. Even though he gives me those potions."
"Are you sure? You don't have to do this, you know?"
What Evendal saw on Kri-estaul's face reminded him of the dull, despairing expression he had seen on too many battle-worn veterans facing a long campaign. "Yes, I do. Don't I?"
"Yes," Evendal whispered, wondering what passed in his son's mind. "Probably many times." He motioned for one of the Guards. "Hielbrae, would you ask Ierwbae and Metthendoenn to attend us outside? And if they are agreeable, arrange for Metthendoenn's safe transport? And delegate someone to request Aldul's presence as well. As soon as they can come." As Evendal gave his orders, Kri-estaul uncurled enough to watch. His face shone with amazement that his new Papa actually arranged everything without shouting at him or cursing him for the burden he was. The woman departed.
"Now," Evendal began. Kri-estaul tensed. "We both need to get ready also. The jakes, then we'll do a quick clean up. And you are not telling us anything unless you accept a rule or two."
"W. Wh... What?"
Evendal did some quick, furious rethinking. He spoke slowly, hoping it would convey a calm he did not feel. "If you are scaring me, I will ask you to stop. And give everyone a moment to calm down. If we don't understand, I will ask you to stop. That will give you a chance to help us understand. Just for a moment! But when I ask you to stop, then you will stop! It will do you no good to get sick, over words we did not hear clearly or understand. Do you see why I want that rule?"
The King watched Kri-estaul run his words over several times in his head, until the sense penetrated. "You want to make sure you hear me right. Right?"
"Yes, and I want you safe. I will not hurt you, Kri-estaul. I do not want you to hurt yourself."
Kri-estaul's look of incomprehension added to the weight in Evendal's heart. "Just pretend, Kri-estaul. That for the time being I am more worried about you than if you are good or evil."
To that, Kri-estaul said nothing. But Evendal knew the child felt himself a burden. That he allowed himself to draw anyone's attention or effort took courage; it also underscored how vital he felt his intended disclosures.
Ever since the first Council's bloody mess, the king ensured a good supply of washcloths, a ewer, two waterskins, and five craters - four filled with water - were kept available on a long narrow table in their apartments. Groaning out of bed, Evendal lifted Kri-estaul to the privy and waited outside. Once done there, Evendal moved his son with him to the table and they set about cleaning themselves. Both Evendal and Kri-estaul had taken it as given that his son would take care of himself for everything except his perineal region and his back. The King's first attempt to help his son had shown the wisdom in Kri-estaul, solely, washing his legs, as he alone knew how much pressure and abrasion they could bear.
Rather than dwell on the inevitable, Evendal ald'Menam did the one behaviour he despised in others; he spouted whatever entered his head to say. "What would you like to break the night's fast with? Pickles and teff?" Kri-estaul stared at his adoptive father in surprise. "Apricots and lentils? Oysters Paprikash and carob? No. Thistles! Green or purple?" Evendal stared back at Kri-estaul, inquiringly. "In a mustard sauce? Or apple and tomato?"
Kri-estaul could not help making a face. "I'm not very hungry."
"Nonsense. Just wait until you've tried Shulro's crab stuffed with pine needles and walnut hulls."
Kri-estaul giggled briefly, and having cleaned himself to the limit of his reach and his nerves, grimaced and glared at the empty basin. "Let me situate you, son. Please." The bronze oval bowl, at its widest, was half Kri-estaul's length, and had a padded wooden framework encompassing it that elevated the boy's buttocks and braced him lower at the chest. Doeskin stirrups or slings, strategically set, kept his calves from any hard surface. The effect had Kri-estaul look like someone falling nearly face-first, but it made using simple distilled water on his fistula infinitely more effective: A gift crafted by Pohul-halik and Priestess Sygkorrin in their 'dissolute past'. Evendal had never seen its like, but old marks on it, and the polish provided by heavy handling, told him the device was not something newly inspired. After affixing a reed to the modified aperture of each waterskin, Evendal pressed the skin, directing the water precisely.
Drying off, they followed the same rule as washing: Kri-estaul took care of himself to the limits of his reach and strength. Evendal dried the remainder. Dressing brought their greatest frustration, as Evendal had no experience putting clothes on another person. Invariably a garment started out twisted, or they had trouble getting the child's arms through sleeves. Kri-estaul could not bear to sit passively while his father, however unintentionally, strangled him or fettered him. This morning Kri-estaul voiced no protest, eliciting a sour mixture of relief and worry in Evendal.
With a kiss on the boy's forehead, Evendal carried Kri-estaul out and sat on the mock Throne to wait. In a wordless understanding, they both accepted that eating first might be a bad idea. "If you need to stop, then stop. If it gets too scary or hard, you stop. Do you hear me?" He knew he repeated himself. He knew he had to.
Kri-estaul nodded with a worried expression on his face. "I hear you, Papa." And Evendal realised that Kri offered neither a concession nor acquiescence.
Metthendoenn arrived on a makeshift litter, with Ierwbae and Aldul as the carriers.
Too anxious to wait on anyone's questions, Kri-estaul began. "When I had six years, I went to the Palace all the time. With my bodyguard, Ienlit. Mama taught writing there. I used to learn at home, but Mama was at the Palace a lot more. One day, I walked through the Palace to go home. I turned a corner and saw the Stoner. He was huge! Angry looking. He was waiting for Ienlit and me. He ordered us to come with him. We ran as hard as we could. He got Ienlit. I ran until I ran into the Beast. But he looked like a Guard. I didn't know who he was. I apologised. He grinned real big. He grabbed me and lifted me up. I thought he was going to hit me. He stopped, let me down and said something about being sorry for not seeing me. I had to walk more slowly from now on. He said he would see me very soon. I walked real fast out of the Palace and told my family."
"After that, why did you come back?" Aldul asked.
Kri-estaul looked down at his lap. The question disordered Kri-estaul's thoughts. After a moment, where Evendal could feel and hear the child mumbling, Kri-estaul answered. "I thought he was a Guard. He was real nice to me at the end. So Mama thought it would be safe as long as I stayed with a protector."
"After school the next day, I walked through the Palace. Worried about the Stoner. The Terrible... The Beast snuck behind us. My new guard tried to help. I don't remember the guard's name. She ran. They grabbed her though."
Kri-estaul shook in Evendal's arms. "We were taken to the under-ground. I think it was the second floor. Into a room with weird-looking beds. He was strong. He strapped me into one and then flipped it up. He said so I could look at everything. But there wasn't anything to see except those stupid beds and some posts. The bed swung me a lot and hurt my arms and back. I begged him to let me go. I really did."
"Shh..." Evendal interrupted. "Take a deep breath, Kri." The boy complied. "And another. Now. Do you want to continue?"
Kri nodded, distracted. "He smelled of metheglyn and betony. Mama used to drink a glass after each guild-council. And grandma smoked betony when she lived with us. That's how I know. He told me he couldn't..."
In re-orienting to Kri-estaul's immediate resumption, Evendal got a glimpse into just how his son survived, isolated, in the dark, for two years. With nothing but time, and no one to talk to, and nothing but straw, stone and rodent to touch, Kri-estaul must have set himself the task of remembering. In order. And drawing on all his associated memories from before his imprisonment. Remembering everything he could!
"...He had told my mother and Drussie how I had hit him. I had run into him. And that they said I was always like that; a naughty, stupid brat. But I'm not, Papa! I'm not! Really, I'm not! I kicked a room screen down once when I had five years, 'cause I was playing where I shouldn't, but..."
"Shh. I know, Kri. You're not naughty. Nor stupid. I know better."
Kri-estaul paused, taking several breaths and looking at Evendal with an odd expression; half fearful, half critical. He clearly did not trust his new father's good nature, still. He took a deep breath, then laid out his most painful memory.
"The Most Terrib... The Beast said... They told the Beast that he could have me, if he wanted, for twelve coppers. Drussie taught me about money, Papa. I like the feel of silvers better than either golds or coppers. Two days before He... detained me, Drussie bought three squabs at market for twelve coppers. She had to pluck them, though."
"He... He hit me. I couldn't breathe. The weird bed swung me away and then back into his fist." Kri-estaul was sweating now. "He stopped hurting me, and picked on my guard. I couldn't breathe well. Then she was naked. She looked odd, nothing but hair under her trews. And He did mean stuff to her, nothing I had ever seen before. But I knew it was mean because she screamed and begged him to stop. He looked at me. I was sure he was going to stab me, too. But he kissed me. It was gross; he kept pushing his tongue at my mouth. I must have made him angry, I don't know. He hit me hard again. I opened my mouth, and he started kissing me again. And he spit all this blood into my mouth. He slapped me in the face and said t... drink it down or he would kill me. I gulped." The boy sobbed, clutching his father.
"Enough!" Evendal cried, gripping the shivering, dear form. "This can wait."
"No!" Kri shrieked. "No. Please! I need to. It never goes away. And... And sometimes it swallows me! I am in the under-grounds... again, and I see the Beast. Or Nisakh again! Make it go away, Papa! Please? I'll be good! I'll be good!"
The King didn't know what to do, but his heart hurt unto breaking. "Enough, Kri-estaul! Enough. Oh, Thunders! My son! My son, you're safe now! No more of this!"
Frantic, Evendal looked at Aldul, who had crawled up to the Prince and held out his hand, palm up. Having sensed movement near him, Kri-estaul cringed against Evendal and whimpered at the Kwo-edan's nearness. "Can you grip my hand, Kri-estaul?" The boy nodded, sniffling and panting.
Aldul almost chuckled at the child's literalness. "Will you grip my hand, Kri-estaul? Now?" With heart-stopping slowness, and an almost palsied waywardness, the boy complied. Aldul made no move,waiting. Suddenly uncertain, the Kwo-edan shot a quick, nervous glance around at his audience.
"When I was near your age, I was kidnapped by people like the Beast. What you suffer, sometimes, I endure too. It happens, and at the weirdest moments. What to do when it happens is what you are doing now. You take someone's hand, you hold onto it hard! Not a chair, not their clothing. Their hand. And you try to tell them you are trying to stay with them. I know when you get scared it's hard to think, but do you think you can do that?"
Kri-estaul hesitated while the sense of Aldul's words penetrated his fog of anxiety, then he nodded.
"I know it's impossible yet to look at us when you talk about this. You don't have to. But hold onto your Papa's hand while you talk. Will you do that? It may not keep you here. But it might."
The child nodded again, and Aldul retreated an arm's length.
Everyone waited, knowing without a word said that Kri-estaul needed to finish his task.
When his breathing grew easier, Kri-estaul lifted his head from Evendal's side and frowned. "He... He put this post in front of my guard and weighted it down. It wasn't very tall. I've seen fighters do that at practices. But he tied a dagger to it and got behind her. He had already torn off her clothes, and he pulled her back. Like he was hugging her, but she screamed again. Real loud. I thought he was pulling her arms and stuff. I said to let go of her. She didn't do anything wrong. He... He let go of her. And she swung into the knife. He pulled her back and did it again. She kept screaming. I cried. She got all bloody. She stopped screaming. But the Beast still pulled her back. He made some weird noises."
Kri tried to rush through his remembrance, but with his sobbing and breathlessness, the listeners were able to keep up easily. The last statement came out as a burble, as Evendal held the boy and gradually calmed him.
"She died before he quit. I saw when she stopped breathing. There was a cat at our home ash-pile that I found dead once. I knew she had died. He came up to me. He didn't smell like metheglyn anymore. And moved the bed so I was looking up at him. He had his pee-stick out. All gummy and bloody. He asked me if I knew who he was. I didn't know. He was the Terrible Lord Abduram. I was to call him that. Only that. I begged him to forgive me. Over and over. I did! He said he couldn't. I was bad."
"And that my family didn't want me."
Kri-estaul halted for a long time, his skin clammy and his skull-like face aquiver. "I told him I would be good. He ordered me to clean his pee-stick. I couldn't reach it. He said 'Lick it! Like its a honey-dipper.' I'm sorry! I wanted it to be a bad dream! I tried to get out of that bed. I did try. He hit me every time I moved. And he made me clean it. It didn't taste of much, like the inside of my mouth when I've bitten my lip. But it smelled awful."
The child's last avowal was slurred, but the intent crystal clear. Except for Evendal tightening his embrace, no one moved for several breaths. Too many breaths for Kri-estaul's peace of mind. "Please, I'm sorry! Please don't hate me! Please. I didn't want to! He made me! I didn't want you to hate me..."
"There was nothing else you could do, Kri-estaul." Evendal assured him, in a gentle voice. "You had no choice."
Kri cried in Evendal's arms for a while. Nobody moved. When he felt he could, the child tried again. "When he said I had cleaned it enough, he left me alone in the bed. He said I had just had my supper. They left the dead lady on her bed, too."
"Kri-estaul..." Evendal began.
The child shook his head vehemently. "No."
"Why? Calm yourself, a moment. Why is it so important to tell us all at one time?"
"It just is! If I don't I'll be too scared... later."
Evendal felt confusion on top of his misery. "Scared of what?"
"You have been so good to me, like I was... a boy. I feel like I... Like I am fooling you, somehow."
"So." Metthendoenn whispered. "You think we don't know how evil you are? You're afraid you will not have the courage to tell us, later. Right?"
Kri-estaul nodded, closing his eyes. "The next day, I guess it was the next day. It was a long time anyway. He came back, with a brazier. Mama had a much smaller one that she used to calm herself after a rough day with the guild. She used it to make the room smell nice. He asked me if I knew why I was here. I told him no. He hit me and asked me again. I cried maybe I was bad. He punched me again. 'If you had to guess, then you are still bad', he said. I begged him to let me go, give me another chance to be good. But I had to be punished for running into him. Good boys do not run into the loving rulers of their home. He said something about making sure I did not do it again. I... I didn't understand."
Wrapped up in his memories, Kri-estaul began to gasp for breath again. "He cut my clothes off. He flipped up the bed frame. Then he put his knife over the fire. He walked behind me and... hurt my legs. It hurt. I screamed. Louder than I ever screamed."
Kri-estaul's hysteria began to fade again. "I woke up. My legs were burning. I could not see anything. I was still in that bed. I cried and cried. No one heard me. I hurt for a long time. I remember my throat hurt a lot. My arms didn't hurt as much, but they kept tingling. The Beast came in and asked me if I wanted off the bed. I said yes. But I had to prove I could be good. He said I had to be obedient." Kri-estaul paused, clearly unhappy about continuing.
"One of the Guard came up to me, pulled out his pee-stick and wanted me to open my mouth. He started to piss. I shut it. He stopped and punched me in the side. He made me drink his piss! But the... the Beast said I had failed. I stayed in the bed."
Kri sounded tired at this point, but he continued, determined. His voice gradually fell into a resigned, dull-witted drone. "He flipped the bed up again. The Guard took a rag and water and wiped my bum. I... I had pissed on myself and had... had shat; I guess when He hurt my legs. I kept begging Him to let me go. He gave me another chance. A test. I was not to make any noise. The Guard grabbed my bum and spit on it. The Beast pushed him aside and got behind me. And..." Kri-estaul stopped, then mumbled into his lap. "He hurt me and hurt me."
"I tried hard not to make a sound. I tried! But I couldn't help it. I screamed." The tired, defeated monotone harrowed Evendal more than the uncontrolled cries had.
"He was mad. I had disobeyed. He finished hurting me and told me I would never leave the under-ground. I was a very, very bad boy who could not behave. He said he would be kind still: He would not kill me. He gave me to his friend, Nisakh, to make into a good boy. Nisakh untied me, lifted me out, and laid me on the floor. He said the first lesson was taught outside, went to the door, and told me to follow him."
"Mother-killing dastard!" Ierwbae hissed.
"I couldn't. I dragged myself forward. I tried. Nisakh got angry because I was slow and disobedient. He stepped on my hands. That hurt more. I kept trying! He kicked me. Then he picked me up and tossed me to the door. I don't remember, but I think I got down the stair to another level. I don't remember."
Frighteningly, Kri-estaul's weeping had slowed. His voice remained a chill monotone. "He threw me down the hall till we got to a room. He dragged me in and... shackled me up to a wall with my nose in all this yucky stuff. Then... he. He hurt me, too. It still hurt. Only worse. Then he stopped and unshackled me. He held me by my hair when I fell. He. He made me clean his pee-stick. I thought he pissed in my mouth at first, but it was that slimy stuff that Guards make when they get excited... or angry."
"I asked if I had been a good boy. He pulled my hair up harder. I had not been good. But he said I could be. I was bad for running into the ruler of Osedys, and I must never forget that. Never. He didn't think a Guard should help bad boys. But he taught me. If I saw him, or any Guard, the first thing I must do is apologise for being alive. For being bad."
"He was kind to me, then: He waited until I could talk and asked if I understood. I said I did. I didn't want to hurt anymore. I asked him if I could have something to eat. He kicked me because he had given me lunch already. I told him as fast as I could that I hadn't known it was food, and thanked him. He left me alone then."
Kri-estaul paused, catching his breath, not looking at anyone. "A lot of time passed. When no one from my family ever got mentioned, I... I thought they really had sold me to the Terrible Lord Abd... the Beast."
"I'm tired. Nisakh would bring other Guard with him sometimes, and they would test me. If I could keep quiet while they hurt me. Or fed me their slimy stuff. Sometimes I could. Mostly I couldn't. The Terr... Beast came to hurt me that way three more times. They hurt my legs two times. The second time, he told me Mama had died for being bad, and for being my mother. Then Nisakh didn't come for a long, long time. I knew I had failed. That he was sick of me. The Beast had given up on me. I don't know how long it was. But I saw no one. Then you rescued me."
"I remember more, lots more. I. I just can't..., right now. I'm sorry!" Kri-estaul started to sob again. "But I never forgot... forgot to apologise to Nisakh. For soiling the air. For taking up food that good boys could eat."
Evendal wiped his eyes with a sodden sleeve and looked about him. Metthendoenn lay clutching Ierwbae and hiding his sobs. Ierwbae hid nothing, his face glistening. Aldul sat wet-cheeked and sad-eyed, shaking, his taut hand again in Kri's tight grip.
"I wished I was dead. I think... Nisakh liked hurting me. Sometimes I would pretend... Imagine... that he was really the bad one. One Guard wanted to... to plow me when I had shat. But the others wanted me clean, so Nisakh always kept me clean. When I was alone I would go over everything I remembered, again and again. Wondered if I was as bad as they said. Sometimes, I tried to recall everything about my dreams of you. But it was always just your eyes glowing at me. How safe I felt being held by you. Safety."
In the ensuing silence Evendal thought Kri-estaul had finished, until the child blurted out. "I forgot about the dark, and the mice. When I went to sleep they would crawl all over me, and bite me. I would try to keep awake sometimes. But I fell asleep. The rats actually were nice, they seldom bit."
The child started shaking again, and briefly hid his face in his hand. "When the Terrible Lord visited with Nisakh, he asked me how good a bitch I was. While he was hurting me, Nisakh said I made a good... pussy-boy. I think that's the word they used. Is that what I am?"
The King opened his mouth. The question, along with Kri-estaul's sad countenance and indifferent tone, totally unmanned Evendal. No sound emerged. Evendal could only close his eyes and shake his head to say 'No.' With the surfeit of rage and pain, Evendal's eyes glowed red through their lids.
"No," Aldul whispered. "No. That is not what you are, Kri-estaul. You are a precious, strong, canny lad who was powerless to do anything but what they made you do. Take a look around you, Kri."
After a moment, the boy whispered back. "I'm afraid." Then he gave the lie to his words, and flicked a look over at Aldul's ravaged face, to Ierwbae's, a little ways away Hielbrae stood shaking with distress. Terrible uncertainty tensing his puffy face, Kri-estaul tilted his head up to look at the King.
Evendal's face shone wet with tears, eyes closed, the lines of every muscle in that face stood out. Kri did not know how his saviour felt after his confession, his cowardice, all that he had done. Evendal opened his lambent eyes, and Kri-estaul squinted against the light illuminating every bite on his face.
"Do you know what you are?" Evendal m'Alismogh asked. His voice came out soft as velvet, and the Throne vibrated to it. It took all his will not to scream an incoherent wail, which would have helped his son not at all.
Kri-estaul could not look away. After a moment his squint disappeared, though the glow in Evendal's eyes had not dimmed. Unable to speak, Kri swallowed, then mouthed. "Bad."
"No. You're amazing. And you're my son."
"You don't... hate me? You won't leave me?" Disbelief burrowed into every crease of Kri-estaul's face.
"I am not worthy of you, Kri. You deserve better than me. But I will never leave you. Ever."
Kri-estaul began to cry, quiet sobs that seemed to ease him. "I had to tell you. What I had done, what... How bad I was. I just knew when you heard... I just knew you would rush me back to Drussie. And I would never see you again!"
"No, little man. You stay here, with me, where you belong."
The shuddering child tried to stare up at Evendal. "I want that more than anything!"
"What?" the King asked, befuddled, slow-witted with the effort of restraining his rage, his fury at the perpetrators.
"You holding me. I feel... I don't feel so alone. Scared."
"That is good. You belong right here. Why did you want Ierwbae and Metthendoenn to hear this?"
"You... liked them. But they needed to know I'm bad. Dung from a jakes-hole. If they didn't like me anymore... I wanted to know. Not knowing hurts."
"Oh, Kri." Ierwbae moaned, still overwhelmed.
"You still feel bad, don't you?" Aldul asked. Kri-estaul nodded. "What did you do that is so bad?" Evendal gathered, from the look on Aldul's face, that he asked the question for Kri-estaul's benefit. And that this approach, this conversation, was to be Evendal's template in the future.
Kri-estaul shrugged. When no one broke his silence, he tried to. "It's... It's not something I've done. I guess. It's like I'm bad for breathing. Sometimes I feel real evil. Like I fooled you all into liking me. If you knew what I really was, you'd hate me. My thoughts, my feelings."
Aldul nodded. "That is what happens, Kri. Give yourself time. That is called shame, Kri. You are nothing to be ashamed of. Will you try to believe just this? I like you, good or bad. That the same is true for us all." Aldul tugged at a pouch attached to his belt, and removed a metal cup from within it.
"You do?"
Yes's echoed around the child.
"If you can't believe that, then can you pretend? Pretend it is true, act like it is?"
"I'll try."
"Kri, you are a good boy." Metthendoenn stated firmly. "I am proud of you. And your Papa is right. You belong here, with us. You are an amazing young man."
Kri-estaul frowned, frustrated. "I'm an ugly boy. I am not a young man."
Ierwbae erupted. "Listen here, Kri-estaul. You are not ugly. You never were. No one will ever send you away. It would hurt your Papa and me and Metthen too much. We want you here. You are an amazing, strong, boy."
Metthendoenn continued, undeterred. "Ugly or beautiful doesn't matter. You are our nephew, our family." Evendal wondered if Kri felt overwhelmed by the attention, or simply unable to hear past his self-hate.
Aldul whispered, his voice husky with memory. "One other thing I want you to try believing. Your chair will take you everywhere in the above-ground Palace. So if you feel lonely, or scared, or confused, we want you to come to one of us. Believe that we want to know. And if you cannot believe that, act like you do. Tell us. Even if it is stuff you've told us before. And if you feel yourself in an under-grounds memory, we want to know. This is the toughest thing for you to believe, because you won't want to bother anyone. Am I right?" He poured what looked like water from a skin into the cup he had retrieved.
Kri-estaul shrugged. "I guess."
"Do you know what I do to people who bother me?" Aldul asked, emptying the contents of a paper wrapper into his cup.
"Wha...what?"
"Nothing." Aldul grinned. "And if I'm in a really bad mood, I might actually listen to them." Kri-estaul lip flickered upward, weakly. "And if I am in a thunderously nasty mood, I may talk to them. 'Blerwm, blerwm, blerwm.' For hours and hours, bells and bells."
Kri-estaul giggled. And Aldul smiled. "Kri. Before you do anything else. I want you to drink another tonic." Kri-estaul made a face, but obeyed. "You know what your punishment is going to be for telling us about Nisakh and the Beast?"
Wide-eyed, but no longer quite as fearful, the child shook his head.
"You will be forced to hear each and every one of us tell you what we think of you. The truth. At least once every day for the rest of your life."
"Yes." Evendal agreed, grinning. "I will force you to hear how I love you with all my heart. How you are the bravest, strongest, most loveable boy in the kingdom."
Kri-estaul scrunched up his face in pain. "But I'm not! Can't you see?"
"We all see very clearly." Evendal kissed him on the forehead, took a deep breath, and hoped his gifts might serve. "Listen to Us, Kri-estaul of Osedys." Despite his frustration, the child looked up, tired and haunted of face. The King's eyes once again blazed bright, fierce, blinding everyone but the survivor they focused on.
It is Our duty to stand in judgment
Over this child who has come before Us.
These golden eyes some men mutter about
Are for discerning. For We are the sword
Which cleaves Light from Dark, Vengeance from Justice,
Truth from Illusion, for all Our people.
As Left Hand of the Unalterable,
We declare you free from any evil.
We look in you and see a loving son,
One belovd of Ir, and citizen.
This is Our judgment, indisputable.
Evendal paused, and looked down to see Kri-estaul's body shuddering in an emotional welter of uncertainty provoked by the glamour; lightly heeded hope struggled in conflict with his training. He had to give the child a truer way of perceiving himself, to present Kri-estaul with an avenue of acceptance, yet still provide for the child's will to walk that avenue or not.
We love you, Kri. We do not love evil.
Accept Our judgment for Truth, if you will.
"Hielbrae!" Evendal called out, his voice cracking. The Guard approached. "This Nisakh is to be found and brought before Us. As soon as yesterday. Alive, conscious, and recognizable."
"My honour and my pleasure to serve, Your Majesty. Your Highness..." Heilbrae swallowed hard. "Would I could have been there for you, lad. You are not bad! A bad boy wants what they did to you. No one... No one will touch you like that again!"
"Before I leave, might I approach, Your Majesty? Your Highness?" Evendal almost smiled; glad for a moment's diversion, and from someone obviously moved by his son's ordeal.
Confused, Kri looked to Evendal, who nodded. "Yes," Kri whispered.
Hielbrae walked up to the mock Throne, and knelt. She glanced shyly at Evendal. "With Your Majesty's permission?"
Guessing the Guard's intent, the King did smile. "Of course, Hielbrae. With Our warmest approbation."
Kri-estaul's attention swung back and forth between Guard and father, unenlightened, still shivering from m'Alismogh's song-spell. Hielbrae raised her right hand and paused when the child flinched. "Oh, lad. That is why I do this. Will you put your hand beside mine?"
Evendal nodded for Kri to comply. "Which hand?" the boy stuttered. "Why?"
"Well, to do it right and proper, one of your hands on each side of mine. Is that... Is that something you can do, right now? I won't move them."
Kri-estaul stared at the red-eyed Guard for a moment, then back up to Evendal, and then nodded. When the Guard's hand was sandwiched between Kri's smaller ones, Evendal, in turn, draped his hands over Kri's, startling the child.
Hielbrae spoke softly, cautious in her tone. "By the life which sustains me and the deeds which bespeak me, I will to Prince Kri-estaul be true and faithful. To serve and protect him. To be his shield. To defend his body against the weak of heart and will. To safeguard him in all lands, in all his doings, against all peril and mischance. To give him good counsel should he desire. To comfort him in adversity or woe."
"Nor shall I ever with will or action do anything to besmirch the honour and virtue of his name, on condition that he will hold to me as I shall deserve it. As the strength of the kingdom made manifest, may my limbs fail me, and my gifts natal and acquired, should I prove false to this oath."
"I. I don't understand."
Evendal interceded. "Kri, she is asking to become your vassal. To protect you, to never hurt you, to talk to you when you need. To listen when you need to just talk. To go with you wherever you go."
Kri-estaul's eyes grew big. "But... But your Papa's helper."
"Not any more, sprite." Evendal explained. "She's now the first of your own Guard."
"What... What do I do?"
"Has she scared you?"
"No. She doesn't look like Nisakh."
"Has she offended you?"
"No."
"Do you reject her kindness? Her love?"
"I'd never do that! I don't want to hurt anyone!"
Evendal smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Then, you need to let her know that."
The Prince sat quiet for a moment. "Do you really want to be my friend?"
"Your Guard, my Prince."
"But all you just said, isn't that what a friend does?"
Hielbrae grinned shyly. "That is true, Your Highness. Then, yes. I really want to be your friend."
"Then I want to be your friend, too. I promise to never hurt you, to listen when you need, to pay attention, to do what I can to help you. Umm, to stand up for you if you get in trouble. To make sure you rest if you're sick. I'd do my best to keep you safe."
"Have I forgotten anything, Papa?"
"There is one thing We would add. Hielbrae, if Our son requests something or behaves in some way that troubles you, even the slightest, you are required to seek Us out and let Us know your concern. You are essentially a protector and counselor, not an enforcer of his will. Royal or not, he is a boy still. And he may not tell Us if he is troubled."
The woman nodded. "My Prince?"
"You still do whatever Papa said... Hielbrae!"
The Guard bowed her head. "As you wish, Your Highness."
Evendal returned to holding his son. Kri-estaul leaned forward and pecked Hielbrae on the lips, then blushed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. But I'd like to earn such kisses." Hielbrae smiled. "Thank you, sweet Prince. If I have your leave?"
"Yes."
"You have Our leave, also, Hielbrae." The Guard stood, bowed, and hurried off.
"Papa?" Evendal smiled at his son in response. "What did she do that for?"
Evendal did not answer directly. "You looked at her, touched her hand, spoke with her. What did you think she felt toward you?"
"She seemed to like me. She must have heard me talking, though."
"I'm sure she heard every word."
"Oh..."
"Kri-estaul?" The boy looked to Metthendoenn. "Would you feel safe with my holding you for a moment?"
"You... You want to?"
"Very much, nephew. It would help me right now."
"Papa? Could you let me down?"
Evendal wondered if he should refuse, this seemed too ambitious after such vulnerability. "I could take... Yes, of course."
With mute determination, Kri-estaul pulled his body forward, dragging some of the loose dirt in his efforts. Metthendoenn carefully held the child, murmuring. "My brave nevvie, I love you, dirt, evil and all. But as your uncle, your protector." Metthendoenn emphasized the last deliberately. "Is that acceptable to you?"
Kri nodded slowly against the Guard's chest bandage. "But you're kind and beautiful, and... And I'm ugly."
"Am I? I had no control over that, anymore than you did. But you said it was allowed for me to love you. And as your uncle, that is what I will do! That means you visit me, because I get lonely, too. Ierwbae has duties, so he can't always keep me company. Will you visit me, if you feel up to it?"
"I guess so."
The Guard simply rocked the boy, holding him loosely. Despite Metthendoenn's deliberate caution, and his careful touch, the tension in Kri-estaul's passive frame would not abate. What composure the watching Ierwbae had recovered, he lost. The Guard hugged himself, mouthing his arm in an effort to mute his sobbing, veil his distress and grief. Gently, Aldul extricated Kri-estaul from Metthendoenn's shaky grip, and set the boy on the ground between them.
"How... How could they?" Ierwbae sobbed. "He's just a child. A sweet, loving, child." Metthendoenn stretched his arms out to his more naf partner, offering what comfort he could. Likewise, Evendal moved from the mock Throne and wrapped his arm around Ierwbae.
Kri-estaul sat, supported by Aldul's hand, and watched, utterly mystified. "Did I do something bad?"
"No, Kri." Aldul assured him. "Uncle Ierwbae's just sad over all the terrible pain and lies you've lived through."
"Really?" Aldul nodded. "Don't cry, Uncle 'Bae. I'm fine now. I've got you and Uncle Metthen and Papa. And it doesn't hurt near as much as it used to. Please, Uncle 'Bae."
Seeing his uncle unable to respond, Kri whispered to Aldul. "Do you want to hold me, too?"
Aldul looked gravely at Kri's damp skin. "I would be honoured, but not today. It doesn't comfort you, it scares you. That gives me no pleasure or comfort either."
Kri hung his head. "I'm sorry. I know they are Uncle Metthen and Uncle 'Bae. They are nice and talk to me, and I like them, but... I felt all tight inside, and like I have to piss. Scared. I hate it!"
"And when your Papa holds you?"
Kri mumbled, afraid. "I feel like nothing could hurt me again." He waited for the questions, for the demands adults always trumpeted at the top of their lungs. He waited for the threat, now that he revealed a weakness, of being deserted.
"Kri-estaul," Aldul called in a low, conversational, tone. Kri-estaul looked up at the expressionless face of the priest. "It is wonderful that you have such a guardian. Do you know what Ierwbae or Metthendoenn would do if you asked them?"
"What?"
"Anything." Aldul answered. "They want to assure themselves that no one will hurt you ever again. They also want to help get you over your fears. Touch them only when it feels safe to you. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Give yourself time. I know you don't think you will feel better, but you will."
The child lurched onto his stomach to slide back to his uncles. Aldul reached out to halt the boy, but thought twice about grabbing him. "Kri, don't. He would not want you to do something you don't feel safe doing."
Kri-estaul did not answer, but dragged himself over to where Ierwbae sat huddled between Metthendoenn and Evendal. "Aldul is right, belovd. Nobody wants more from you than for you to feel safe and happy. Rest easy."
Ierwbae smiled uncertainly at Kri. "I'm sorry if I scared you, nephew. Are you well?"
Kri said nothing, a look of concentration intense on his face. He pulled himself to Ierwbae's nearest arm, and tugged his rebellious body as upright as he could, holding onto Ierwbae's tunic like a lifeline. Still shaking, he collapsed against the Guard's chest.
"I love you, Uncle 'Bae." The child whispered, his voice as unsteady as his body. "Please. Please."
"But... You mustn't force yourself. I scare you."
"Please. I don't want to be afraid. I don't."
With slow, deliberate movements, Ierwbae settled a tremulous, web-light arm around a trembling Kri-estaul. "Are you certain?"
The boy took two deep breaths, but his tremors did not subside. "Papa?"
"Right here."
"Good. Stay. Please?"
"You know I will. Right here. I'm watching over you."
Long, awkward moments passed. Kri-estaul's body began to shake. Hard. Realising the situation had deteriorated, that they were acceding to the ambitions of an eight-year-old and not heeding their own adult sense, Evendal carefully picked up his son and settled him into his own lap. Only then did the spasms diminish, ebbing to fitful tremblings, lessening in strength and frequency. Kri-estaul only glanced up at his father, a question on his face he left unvoiced.
"Remember what I said this morning. 'If you're doing something that might harm you, I will stop it'. You have done more than your body can take right now, Kri-estaul."
Finally, Evendal asked Aldul. "I have handed Kri to Ierwbae before. What was different, here? Was it just the recalling of his abuse?"
The Kwo-edan shook his head. "That made his reaction stronger, perhaps. But I would venture that Kri has reacted every time you relinquished him into a Guard's hands. Just not so you would see his response unless you were looking for it. It probably also helped that Ierwbae has never held Kri for longer than it took to set him down."
"Did my song elicit this urge to comfort Ierwbae? To defy his limits?"
Aldul shook his head. "I would say not. Nothing in the words you sang even suggested action or initiative from him. Just passive acceptance. He has been doing what he feels he must. Remember, he wants 'to be a good boy.' You aren't afraid of your Guard, so he refused to heed his fear."
The Kwo-edan hesitated, then spoke softly, lowly. "You cannot understand, easily. Kri-estaul has spent two years where safety did not exist. Where his rules of survival had nothing to do with 'doing the safe or reasonable action'. He has spent two years ignoring his body's needs and demands... In. Order. To. Survive. We are going to have to be his 'common sense'. We are going to tell him, and show him, what he can and cannot do. Because he honestly does not know what is safe now; what is good for him. Or that 'what is good for him' actually matters. His focus will be on what is good for his Papa." Evendal sensed the warning in Aldul's word. Feeling everyone's scrutiny, Kri-estaul clenched his fists over his face and hunched inward.
Aldul snapped his fingers, sternly, pointedly drawing everyone's focus. "For us watching over him, his anxiety means asking every time we want to touch him, or pat him on the back. And think twice about tickling him! It also means that if Kri doesn't see you, announce your presence before you get near him. Don't startle him. Give him time... and light! After two years, this is a strange new world for him. There may be days when Kri, however much he may want to, will not be able to endure even your touch, Lord Evendal."
Evendal, who had been watching his son carefully, saw the tears reforming. "What's wrong, belovd?"
"I don't feel so good, Papa. It's just. Master... Aldul. What you said... It's true! It's been like that... What I want. Is that a bother? Am I too much trouble?" The child protested, eyes heavy.
"No. It is just and right. And it's not forever. Things will get better."
"Promise?"
Aldul smirked. "Yes, Kri-estaul. I promise. As sure as you love Papa."
Kri smiled an unsteady smile, shivered as his body suddenly chilled, and bravely closed his eyes.
Later that day Kri-estaul came down with a flux, a result of the emotional afternoon. Aldul, as no surprise to Evendal, proved his skill with an herbal remedy that allowed the boy to retain a very light, and much needed, evening meal.
Late the next morning, Evendal and Kri-estaul, with a group of ten Guard, paid a call on the Matron of Scriveners. The Guard waited outside the building as the King stepped into the antechamber and enquired after the Quill-master. After a brief wait, Drussilikh came down and greeted the King and Prince. The few days since their last meeting had visibly been difficult, as witnessed by the dark circles hounding the Matron's eyes.
"You grace us by your kind visitation, Your Majesty. Your Highness." Drussilikh declared, performing a courtier's curtsey. "To what do we owe the light of your favour?"
Kri-estaul just stared at Drussilikh, feeling the chill of her regard. He had awakened excited at the prospect of helping his sister. That pleasure curdled in the face of Drussilikh's biting civility. He hid his distress in the clumsy folding and unfolding of his woolen wrappings.
"We thought the sister of Our son dwelt here. We perceive Our error and beg your pardon for intruding. We wish you the joy of the day, and will go call upon the sincere attentions of the gracious Pohul-halik." Evendal nodded his head and turned to leave. Quick as lightning, Drussilikh blocked Evendal's path and knelt with head bowed.
"Your pardon, Your Majesty. When Linkhend reported that you had arrived with a squad of Guard, I did not know what that boded. I simply reacted."
The King looked at her in shock. "You thought me another Polgern? To abuse you after you had given me Kri? After you had torn your heart out and given it to my keeping?"
"I could only think of one reason you would bring so many Guard with you. It... It frightened me."
Evendal stood silent, working to think, to percieve past his anger. "Forgive me, I did not think what such a unannounced visitation would look like after the nine years you have had. Forgive me, Matron. They are here to help, not harm. Stand, please."
Drussilikh obeyed. "And forgive me, Your Majesty. When you had shone me nothing but good will..."
"We seem to do a fine job of aggravating each other... Do you think its love?"
Drussilikh stared in confusion, then let out a shriek of laughter. When she caught her breath, Kri-estaul said peevishly. "I don't understand." This just set her off into more laughter.
"We came to visit, but also to ask if there is a building in this area which is truly untenanted and vandalized. We hope to help restore your homes, but do not want to affect an active residence until We are sure of what We do. The first building should be a test."
Drussilikh considered. "The house closest has been vacant for over a year. You may need to go through it, in case some luckless destitute has homesteaded. But Wytthenroeg has not used the building in quite some time."
Evendal looked startled, haunted. "She is well?"
The Matron stared at the King, puzzled. "She suffers from that inescapable ailment, lord. Old age. Compounded by a life now too rustic for her years."
"Could... could someone inquire if she would return? If so, I will provide a litter, a carriage, whatever would best serve her."
"You knew her?" Drussilikh asked, then blushed. "Of course you did. Mother had recommended her to your father for your schooling. I just remembered. I would be delighted to attend to that, my lord."
"Thank you, Matron. Let us consider a different dwelling as our initial effort."
Drussilikh nodded. "Then follow me." And the Matron led them out front, and walked for a quarter of an hour, the Guard following quietly. She halted in front of a ruin. Whatever building had rested there, the remaining two walls could only suggest a construct of great height. One wall went up a good forty feet, with a thatched roofing set at ten feet high, and two deteriorating wooden walls.
At a signal from Evendal, the Guard entered and searched thoroughly. Even to the point of checking what flooring remained for cellars or hideaways. Once satisfied that he endangered no one, the King shifted Kri-estaul over to Drussilikh, and moved in front of the cracked stone steps that would have led to the main entrance.
Suddenly anxious, where previously calm, Evendal took a stomach-deep breath.
Into this damaged structure, once so fine,
Let stone from the town wall fit every line.
Every shard and fragment replace,
Restore this house's intended grace.
Every finial or cornice keep
Every ornament or rainspout steep.
Make this building fit to dwell in,
Secure against snow, wind and rain.
May this child of the Kul move to our desire,
Let stone be remolded without the Kul's fire.
Nothing obvious happened immediately. Uncertain of any effect, Evendal waited and watched. When he caught himself sniffing for rain, for that scent and feel that often precedes and succeeds a thunderstorm, Evendal m'Alismogh realised something had indeed changed: The very air about them was awash with power. The fine down on his arms and neck moved and his skin tingled; his mouth had gone dry. The building remained unaltered, but the same could not be said for the people paused before it.
"What is happening?" Drussilikh muttered, but her words carried disproportionately. "This suddenly unnerves me. Your Majesty?"
'What have I sung?' Evendal asked himself, now more than just uneasy. Why did he think he could control such an alien and inexplicable mystery? His Songmastery had come upon him on its own terms, a living creature, utterly outside his experiences. He comforted himself that his song had at least caused no harm, so far.
The feeling of an impending thunderstorm or waterspout, of being centered for lightning to strike, grew stronger. Something dreadful, and imminent. Evendal's teeth began to ache, and anxiety suffused him; a commanding fear with no object to focus on. The feelings did not overwhelm him - where the immediacy of battle while convulsing had, at Mausna - but the irrational surge of energy through his body distracted all thought. Feeling Kri-estaul trembling as the child strove to burrow into Evendal's shoulder, and seeing Drussilikh's eyes bulge wide as she frantically cast about for danger, meant the emotion was shared. When Drussilikh, again, turned her uncertain gaze to Evendal, he discerned that 'an anticipation of danger' was not what he actually felt. More, m'Alismogh sensed great force, something momentous and awe-full but not necessarily a threat.
Then Evendal felt stunned when a man, unconcernedly unclothed, opened the building's wooden entrance and calmly strode out to meet him. The man looked middle aged, his magnificent nakedness somehow insignificant to the fact he bore skin the brown-black of obsidian and eyes as red as sunset. His hair, dark-red with strands of gray, looked hard and rough as cold lava. Every contour, every muscle grabbed the light, demanded the eye see more than it could. Clarity. A painful, exceptional, clarity clothed the sable figure. Evendal thought that if he looked at this... man, at the right moment, or in the right angle, he would see into the heart of all that is Mystery. Also, a sense of familiarity nagged at him.
The exotic man stopped ten feet from a dumbfounded Evendal and unnerved Guards. He bowed his head. "Greetings and health, Songmaster. You surprise me yet again." When no one responded, the man's expression turned amused. "Ah. Do you not remember me?"
"No," Evendal replied, dazed. "We have no idea. Our apologies. We would make introductions, but your name escapes Us."
"Well, that's true for all. I am Kul."
"You are called Kul?" Drussilikh found her voice, as it went up the register.
"No," the crimson-eyed man replied, frowning. "I am Kul."
"Greetings and health." Kri-estaul piped. "Aren't you cold?"
"Seldom, youngling. I am the juncture of Fire, Earth and Will. I am the wellspring of this land."
"You have never taken human form before." Evendal accused.
Kul smiled. "Not true. It is simply that I am not as... responsive as the Prcentrix Ir. Also, my gifts are not of prosperity or political power. Therefore, I am not recalled so fondly, or so often."
Uncertain what else to do, the King made introductions. "The lady is Drussilikh, Matron of Scriveners. The child is Kri-estaul, my adopted son and heir."
"I will remember." He greeted. "Remembering... So, Songmaster, your memory plays miser? If you wish, I can remedy that."
Evendal had to take a moment and realise what was offered. "All of it? Where and what I've been for the past nine years?"
"Of course, if you wish all of it."
His heart beat hard and loud in Evendal's ears, the air suddenly seemed too thin to breathe. "What would you have in return?" he prevaricated.
Kul frowned. "You are my son, I ask no return. There is nothing you can give that I will not have eventually."
Evendal did not know how to take the ebony figure's declaration of paternity. "Forgive me. But the gift you offer I both long for and fear."
Understanding, Kul smiled. "As is the case with all my gifts."
As they had been speaking, a small crowd of passersby grew, nonplussed at the spectacle. The four conversants ignored the gawkers, preserved from questions and comments by the presence of the Guard. "Might I ask what moved you to come here?"
"Your song alerted me. I recalled you from Mausna. I granted your plea for sanctuary, debarkation, in my Wastes just this season. Then the dissolution of a building. And now this... You do know that you have been meddling with my firstborn children?"
Drussilikh interjected, pale of face and oddly breathless. "But so did the Lord Protector, in building that damnable wall!"
Kul continued to smile. "True. In some ways, a greater trespass. Why do you think it took so long for him to achieve such little success?"
"You?"
"Knowing what is hidden under them, I know how to grant humans' illusions of security, and thwart them as well. I help and I humble." He shrugged. "I am Kul." Kul turned to Evendal, all mirth erased. "What would you, here?"
"I seek to secure the homes which the Lord Protector had rendered unsafe. And do so without resurrecting the traitor's methods."
With the number of curious growing, some became bold.
"One of you kiss him, lets see how big he gets!"
"Is that burnt cork, or did they find you in a coal-bin?"
"If you don't know what to do with him, I do."
Kul turned from Evendal and perused the chuckling, suddenly rowdy, throng. His crimson eyes turned gray, yet glowed the more brightly. Evendal had to perform a complicated bit of footwork to stay upright as the ground shuddered and the cobbled-stoned street undulated. Before the King could draw another breath, the ground had split open across the avenue, and close to a dozen hecklers fell in. The rest scrabbled several feet from the rift, gripping each other in sudden terror and silent with fear.
"No!" Evendal cried, stunned and appalled at the violence and loss.
"You know what to do with me?" Kul rumbled, and the ground picked up his disgust. "Well? What?"
No one dared an answer.
"You!" Kul singled out a pockmarked man in the bloodied work-clothes of a butcher. "Approach!"
Once again, the ground shifted, less dramatically, and the rift closed. The ebony nude blinked, and the displaced dirt and cobbles smoothed. First pushed forward by those behind him, then creeping timourously on his own, the meat-cutter came up to Kul. "Well?"
"M...My lord?" the man stammered and fell to his knees, sweating.
"Lord?" Kul barked a bitter laugh. "Look your fill, child. Then kiss me and tell me 'how big it gets,' as you so brazenly suggested."
From his long ruddy-brown hair, glowing eyes, snarling mouth, down his lean, muscled torso, proportionate member, and lithe but powerful legs that melded into the cobbles he had only seemed to tread, Kul looked an unreservedly virile, unselfconscious, furious nigma. "Well, Hiulenroth?" The man startled at hearing his name. "Continue." Kul glanced back at the onlookers, some edging back uncertainly. "No one escapes me!" Kul warned. All movement stopped.
Swallowing hard, Hiulenroth inched his head forward and kissed the ebony glans, tears slipping down his face. Kri gripped a weeping Evendal and buried his head in his Papa's chest, overwhelmed by memory. Hiulenroth pulled back and looked up into the Kul's again crimson eyes.
"So. Tell us all, audacious boy, how big does it get?"
His face showing surprise at his continued existence, Hiulenroth huffed out the first thing in his head. "As big as you need it to be." His lips had reddened and his face looked patchy with heat flush.
"True. And tell these sheep who I am."
Hiulenroth continued to stare into the ruby eyes. "You are the Kul."
Kul considered. "Close enough. You are my children, whom I provide a home for, a place, and a fertile one. Had I not been both extravagant and patient when you first straggled to this shore, practically guiding you here, you would not now be. I, unsolicited, summoned the Forest-dwellers to remove the yoke of the Nikraan invader from your necks. And it is through my agency that your long-suffering King is returned to you. So have you been indulged, yet you goad well-disposed visitants with abuse! Reacting and braying with less dignity than any beast you can name."
"Go back home and leave us in peace. And be thankful you are not in my domain, I am not kind to fools." Looking out over the crowd milling anxiously, Kul pointed at where his feet would be. "Unless you wish to join your fellows, leave now." The street soon echoed with the footsteps of the departing.
When satisfied, Kul turned back to the devastated King. He simply stared, incredulous, then finally chuckled. "Tender-hearted still, after how many ages? Rest easy, my friend. I am a guest here, and would not impose so in your domain. These are your people, not mine, to judge. Those few that fell are not dead, but enjoying the shallows along Thasylh Bay."
It took a moment for Kul's words to register. "They are safe?"
Kul chuckled again, unconvincingly. A sense of sadness belied the sound. "From me, yes. They are not my minions to do with as I wish. I would not presume."
Evendal relaxed, wiping his eyes. "I regret both the treatment you received, and my doubt of your honour."
"Though you are a age-old friend to me, I am yet a stranger to your mind. Again, I say, rest easy. Of more moment is your son's fear, streaming out of him like my life's-blood from a vent. What troubles you, Kri-estaul? You saw that youngling kiss me. No more than that."
After several breaths, wherein no one intervened, the conflicted child whispered. "I know." Kri-estaul answered, voice muffled in Evendal's tunic. "I didn't want to see the rest."
"There would have been no 'rest'. That youngling chose what to kiss, it could have been my knee, my hand, or my face, and I would have been satisfied. Can you look at me, child? Have you courage enough?"
Kul knew what to say. Kri-estaul whipped his head around and glared.
"Look hard, little one. Tell me what you see."
Caught, Kri obeyed, peering fixedly. "You are beautiful... and scary, and strong. You... You're not mean, are you? Sad, though." Water filled Kri's eyes. "Can I help?"
"You do, youngling." Kul took a breath. "Regarding your song-spell, Songmaster. These are my children, too. Serve your Unalterable. Repair the damage caused by your absence. You merely add a lesser purpose, a temporary honour, onto the purposes my firstborn already serve. Sing your song however often you need, and my elements shall yield to your will, Songmaster."
"My thanks, father of us all."
"And mine own as well." Drussilikh added, her eyes reddened.
"And what of you, shy one?" Kul goaded Kri-estaul.
"You are going to help Papa?" Kri mumbled.
"Yes, I have known him, and helped him, for a long time."
"Thank you." Kri-estaul declared, suddenly bold. "Your skin is odd."
Kul shrugged again. "What do you think of it?"
Kri tried to grin. "You're beautiful. If I had skin like that, would I be warm all the time?"
The Kul laughed, a booming, full-bodied laugh. "No, sweet youngling. No. May I?" he asked, holding out long, spatulate-fingered hands.
Kri looked at his father, who said. "Its your choice, belovd." The boy looked back at the ebony nude, and his curiosity decided for him. With an eager grin, Kri reached out and found himself in Kul's sure hands.
Kri-estaul felt like he had suddenly been dropped in a tub of hot water. "You are very warm." He put his hand on the Kul's forehead. "Do you have a fever?"
"No, princeling. It is how I am. Ever and always. I also know you are wary of others. Thank you for letting me hold you, youngling."
Kri shrugged. "You feel safe. And you are Papa's friend." He paused, then added in a whisper. "And you're not a Guard."
"Then I make the same pledge to you I made to your Papa. To help you in your times of greatest need. To be your friend. And to remember you thoroughly, utterly, and always. Kri-estaul of Osedys, Heir to more than the Thronelands."
Kul turned his attention back to the King. "And your decision, m'Alismogh?"
"I have the feeling if I were to recover those missing years, I would be no more whole than I am now."
The obsidian man nodded. "At this juncture, that is a truth. Often it is what you do now, not what you did in the past, that most defines you."
"I would like to know, why the Desolation? Why Mausna?"
Kul's expression turned grim. "You were partially responsible, m'Alismogh."
"Me?!"
"How your Name emerged, what evoked it, do you remember that?"
"My Name? Do you mean when I was so miserable at Mausna? With the migraines and the nausea and vertigo?"
"Yes. The force of all those deaths... Death awakened your Name. Your pain caught my attention. The impossibility of your situation."
"What do you mean?"
"Your gift responds to the death of your fellows. You were in a mobile charnel-pit. An abattoir of your father's crafting. Your... power had to choose fight or flight. It chose to change the conditions. Fight, after a fashion."
Evendal felt numb. "Do you mean I started the Cataclysm to halt the battles?"
"Not entirely. I contributed as well. What would have happened, if the land had remained intact?"
"We would have won."
"And?" Kul did not accept the obvious. So Evendal thought beyond immediate consequences.
"Polgern would have had his invading force organized more quickly. With so many surviving veterans, he would already have marched on his targets by now."
Kul nodded. "And Kwo-eda, my dearest ones, would have been first target. There is nothing that is plotted or done in secret that I am left ignorant of. Part of my demesne is those things buried. Hidden."
"So you knew before it happened, that my father was doomed?"
"I knew he was to be attacked. Whether the attempts would succeed or fail, that is a different matter."
"Why didn't you intercede?"
"What does one idiot mortal, with more anger and fear than sense, mean to me? Beside, the realm of human interaction is not my demesne; it is yours."
"But all those innocents!"
Kul stared at Evendal with granite mien. "Innocents? No one in a battle is innocent, except the land. All you blood-hungry idiots, laying claim to what cannot be owned! What I did was hard enough. Mausna! A beautiful child! One of my delights! And I had to destroy her to halt your sire's insanity! Had your father won, what would have followed? You gave a poor answer, Songmaster. Mausna would have been no worse off under your Islanders than under your sire. All those innocents? I gave them what they asked for when they trampled across the flesh of my child in battle array. Death. Between your unthinking need for surcease from the pain of battle-caused deaths, and my compassion for my besieged child..." Kul shook his head. "A tragedy of errors, all along."
"But, we couldn't let those Nikraan scum..."
"Nikraan? The Nikraan died off centuries past, absorbed into sturdier and smarter groups. These were people migrating from the atolls to untenanted land. Land I myself was willing to be generous with. They were no different from the stragglers whom I allowed to found Osedys and Kwo-eda. If their settling in Mausna had been the abomination your father denounced, I would have sunk Mausna with their first footfall."
Evendal stood reeling from the revelation. "Thunders! Is there no truly just action?"
"Of course, my friend. Though I do not know what it is. That is your demesne. You were too young, too desperate for your father's approval, to think for yourself. Else you would have seen."
"I was not that wise, nor that impartial."
"I know, but you were the chosen tool of the Unalterable, even then. You would have seen it, I am certain."
"You lost someone you cared about?" Kri interjected, recognising a subject he could understand. "I'm sorry. I did, too. My Mama. Are you sad?"
"Yes, youngling. I will be for a long time."
"I'm sorry. I know I miss Mama. It helps to cry, you know."
"My tears are deadly, sweet boy. But I have grieved. And will."
"Why do your eyes glow? Like Papa's?"
"That glow is the mark of my mystery. The measure to which my care and my... passion engage jointly." And Evendal breathed a sigh in relief, not comprehending, but accepting the effect to be innocuous in character.
Kri-estaul frowned. "I don't understand."
"It is difficult to explain. Words are not my favoured tool. But you will understand. You know what you are?"
"Papa's son."
"Most definitely. And what else?"
Suddenly nervous and shy, Kri hung his head and mumbled. "I don't know."
"You are..." Kul lifted Kri-estaul's chin to meet his sanguine gaze. "You are my friend. If you feel lonely and want company, call my name. Will you? You are a friend of Kul."
"Oh. You, too. If you want. If you get lonely, come see me, too."
Evendal looked dazed, shaken. "You... You visited me once, long ago, and said the same."
"Yes." Kul replied, smiling. The red of his eyes deepened, brightened with pleasure. "Thank you for remembering uncoerced. You were a shy, precocious, and confused child. Easy to care about, but uncared for. Full of curiosity and empathy, qualities I recognize, but do not possess."
"Not true." Evendal protested, physically weaving from the effort to recall. "You were always kind with me. Patient."
"I am Kul. I love what I love. But the rest is insignificant to me. Kul remembers few, for few see beyond my fire. That is not true with you, Songmaster. Now, about your restoration."
"Yes?"
"Matron Drussilikh has been courteously silent and patient. Let me accompany you in your bespelling her home. By the limits in your song, all furnishings must needs be removed first in order to remain undamaged. With my immediate influence, she need not be bothered so."
Once the residents had vacated, the restoration of the Scrivener Guild-house succeeded without trouble, possessions undamaged. Sills needed to be replaced where the wood had warped, of course, but makeshift compensatory repairs disappeared, along with the seemingly ineluctable draft. After Evendal sang the reclamation, Kul deftly transferred a sleeping Kri-estaul to Evendal's arms.
"I've missed you, dear friend, and never realised who I had been missing." Evendal confessed, voice thick.
Kul smiled softly, with eyes flickering orange, and caressed the King's cheek. "No longer. And never again while you breathe. Kul-friend. About your past... When next I visit, you might not see me, but you will accept the burden of my offer." And Kul disappeared.
This is an emotionally difficult chapter; Kri-estaul's recitation, specifically. I had not visited the emotions of childhood that it recalled, and the associated real memories (as opposed to the utterly fictional ones of the story itself), for a long time. Psychologically, there are only two incredible elements to Kri-estaul's disclosure - his insistence on talking, and his being able to speak coherently. A child would not do that, certainly not a child rendered mute by shame. And that is what shame does - it mutes. To an outsider (and everyone else is an outsider) a naturally quiet and contented child and a child engulfed and over-burdened by shame are indistinguishable. Anyway, making allowances for those two elements, and the license that eight-year-olds may not talk like Kri-estaul, I hope the chapter entertains and challenges. Let me know.