This story is a work of fiction. It contains descriptions of violent behavior between adults, references to violent behaviour between adults and children, and expressions of physical affection. If you find this type of story offensive, or if you are underage and it is illegal for you to read it, please exit now. All characters are fictional and in no way related to any persons living or deceased. Any such similarity is purely coincidental and uncanny.
This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written consent of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission guidelines but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the direct consent of the author.
I cannot help wondering if this has become utterly boring. The lack of reader e-mail, negative or positive, is not good. I can be contacted at Bookwyrm6@yahoo.com
Copyright 2003 Kristopher R. Gibbons All rights reserved by the author.
I want to thank Rob Gould for his editing help, his keen eye and his helpful ideas.
23 Her And Her Fighting Soul
Ghost: Do not forget. This visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But look, amazement on thy mother sits.
O, step between her and her fighting soul!
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
Speak to her, Hamlet.
Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 4, lines 111ff.
The King could not credit what he heard. "People who are currently pledged Guard have assaulted citizens at your request?"
"Yes."
This chilled Evendal's blood. Any Guard of indifferent integrity was to have fallen asleep at the investiture weeks past, to then be earmarked and removed from service. That Telohema affirmed three such as active Guard meant deliberate deception, and forewarning. It also, provided Telohema's intelligence was accurate, indicated these three intended further criminality. Evendal glanced over at Lialityne, who sat ready. "You will name them. Now!"
She did, and though the names meant nothing to Evendal, their potential for havoc upon a still shamed and disgraced Guard chilled him. Then the natal home of the final name registered on his consciousness.
"...Retleri of the Archate Orphanage," Telohema had concluded.
"Stop for a moment." At the mention of the Archate, Evendal first glanced toward his friend. Aldul had an eyebrow raised in surprise and his hands fisted in dismay. The Kwo-edan's posture told Evendal enough. The distress on the priest's face, as he looked directly at Evendal and nodded, caused an ache in the King's chest and shortened his breath.
"Aldul? You know something of this?"
"Just a suspicion. All I can tell you is that, at the Paramenate, we have a training available. Ways of protecting ourselves against a glamour or dwoemer(77). It is a simple warding, a bit of self-protection. If one of our tenants expected to confront a dwoemer that did not single him out specifically, he would be able to protect himself from it."
"Aldul? You were as susceptible today as anyone..."
With a start, the Kwo-edan understood his friend referred to the light off the royal countenance. "I have never needed, and still do not need, to protect myself from you." Aldul's declaration came out plain and concise, almost angry, as if he were answering a question indirectly asked. After a moment's recapitulation, Evendal saw that he had indeed asked such a question, and had been suitably answered. With a brief bout of tired dizziness, he stood, walked forward a few steps, gripped Aldul's hands, and kissed the backs of them, acknowledging the Kwo-edan's love and courage.
"Ierwbae, Mulienhas, do either of you recognise those names?"
Mulienhas nodded. Ierwbae shook his head.
Aldul spoke again on a shrug. "I do. Retleri is a hoghenhyne(78) of the Archate, a person whose behaviour the Archate is responsible for. I remember the name from a list of recent residents. That being the case, let us help in their detention and questioning."
Evendal m'Alismogh nodded his concession and sat back down. "Who else, Telohema?"
"Former Guard Oenhollerts and Nisakh."
"You knew of former Guard Nisakh?"
"Yes."
"How did you know of him?"
"He provided me with several pleasant new experiences."
The woman's circumlocutions got on the King's nerves. "Do not be so coy. Say what you mean."
"There were times when Frichestah had to stay with Niem Dir's brats, but some threat always seemed to arise. So I enlisted Nisakh to remove the prob... person. He saw this as my benefiting him. As a goodwill gesture, he often invited me, and later Frichestah, to vent our frustrations on whatever fellow he had... reclaimed."
The King's mind again boggled at the image of Nisakh as a genial host.
An instant later, Evendal recalled another part of Mar-telohema's jawing. "You went down to the fourth level of the under-grounds and assaulted a crippled child having but six or seven years!" He felt very relieved that Kri-estaul had fallen back to sleep before the woman responded to this.
Mar-telohema's answer came out flat, uninflected. "Yes. On a few occasions, with my ivory truncheon. It was Nisakh's favourite display, though I never understood why. The only relief I got from its constant whining and pleading was when I could make it cry in earnest. Frichestah seemed indifferent to it as well."
Evendal felt sick. Confronted by this self-centred woman after all that his son had endured, his anger and fear for the beleaguered child's safety burned like acid in his throat. The number of people he came across who had chosen to live blind to everything beyond their own greed and arrogance added to his weariness. Were the powerless the only ones with any measure of compassion?
"Oh, Justice! Oh, Vengeance! Decide amongst yourselves, for I dare not!" the King cried out.
Aldul, Drussilikh, and Ierwbae anticipated some reaction, but the swift whitening of the air in the Chamber took everyone by surprise. The smell Aldul associated with a good thunderstorm competed with the odour of burnt flesh. When he could see again, Aldul silently commended m'Alismogh's restraint in not slaying Telohema outright. The former adjudicator lay draped over a frantic Frichestah, angry-looking swellings building on her face and hands. The freshness of the scarring did not obscure the intent: Across each cheek, in the vulgar but terse sigils of the Cinqet, was repeated the charge "child assaulter(79)." On the palm and back of one hand was branded the sobriquet "murderer," while on the palm and back of the other hand bubbled the judgement "thief." Telohema was, in a gesture of surprising mercy, insensible.
"You are keen in your generosity, m'Alismogh," Aldul tendered as Drussilikh bent over a shaken and bemused Lialityne murmuring explanations and encouragement.
"Not I. I am the sword that cuts its wielder. Mansuetude(80) was necessary." He shrugged.
"So she will live?"
"No," Evendal shook his head. He felt so tired that he forgot for a moment. "Her crimes against the people she was charged to serve, and her lack of actual contrition, demand otherwise. Niem Dir?"
The woman looked up from the malodorous display, wide-eyed.
"We know what We just offered you. Might We, instead, suggest another arrangement? And, if you should find it agreeable, implement it?"
Dark eyes glittering with angry caution, the former Warden asked, "What arrangement?"
"That when Niar-lles and Eirath-harl are secure, Mulienhas, with a scrivener and a crier, escort this most honourable justiciar to the Commons in the King's Quarter and bind her to the Crier's Post there. Then, on the next day have someone escort her to the Ebbtide-post near the Ports and have her chained there. If she yet lives on the morning after, submit her to your mercies." Evendal glanced at Niem Dir. "Will that suffice for this lump of offal?"
"As former Warden and as emissary for the Eastern Dark I say, provided all is done as you have proposed, we would be most agreeable to such."
"Mulienhas?" the King called.
The Guard stepped forward.
"Let it be as We have outlined. Lialityne?"
The young woman looked up from her efforts, fear in her eyes but none in her voice. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Chronicle what We have decided. And whatever Telohema says as a result of Our queries."
"As you will, Your Majesty."
"As for Frichestah, here, this whelp of a jellyfish. Like Telohema, his defeat does by his own insinuation grow. For, like Nisakh, he did so clearly make love to his labour. Gracious Niem Dir, he is yours.
"Aldul, what say you of Nehaleidda?"
"Examination of her only confirms my initial assessment. The damage Frichestah inflicted is permanent. And she will be delivered, of what is most likely a son, within ten sennights."
"What!" Niem Dir bolted up into a standing position. She looked down on the calm demeanour of her faithless vassal. "You sire some leech on my child!"
"No," Evendal interceded. "The count of days is wrong for that, good Niem Dir. The sire of Nehaleidda's child is the one who despoiled her."
"My former son."
Evendal ald'Menam nodded. "Your seemingly ambitious firstborn."
"What do you mean? Do you doubt my report?"
The King looked Niem Dir in the eye and answered. "Yes. As it touches on your antipathy toward males, I must doubt your interpretation of matters."
Just then a Guard came in gripping Hwil-marsidyan, struggling like a madwoman. "Your Majesty, she tried to slip away past me. But she walked out blind who had walked in here sighted, thus I knew that, without escort, she played truant."
"Excellent, good Chielheroni. Indeed We gave her no leave. Where thought you to go, Hwil-marsidyan?"
"As far away as I could manage, Your Majesty, leave granted or not."
"Look upon Us," Evendal insisted. "What would you?"
Hwil-marsidyan took several breaths. "I would... seek those items and effects you asked after."
The King raised an eyebrow sceptically. "How?"
"I would speak with the clerk most likely to know of these matters."
"Why? What is his name?"
"Uhult-helt."
Evendal felt too tired to show surprise. "Where did you hope to find him?"
Hwil-marsidyan began shaking visibly. "Gentry Row."
"That has become a popular cubby." Evendal remarked. "And he is there with...?"
"Dhu-etslef, heir of the Eastern Dark." Having revealed her complicity, Hwil-marsidyan wept in despair.
"They were that close to me?" Niem Dir exclaimed.
"Dhu-etslef is not now, and never has been, heir of the Eastern Dark! Where? Whose residence?"
"One Telohema had purchased."
"How do you know all this?"
Hwil-marsidyan could barely be understood as she snivelled in her despair. "Dhu-etslef asked me to provide a helper to prove that the Eastern Dark originally had a patrilineal succession. I let Uhult-helt think the assignment royally sanctioned."
"And for what reward did you accommodate Dhu-etslef?"
"He has expressed many tenders... of his affection and... regard to me."
The King nodded, far from surprised, and hardly glanced over to Niem Dir when Nehaleidda burst into tears from hearing her brother's name. He felt tired. The details of this layered malfeasance and land grabbing kept multiplying. Himself without sleep since the previous day, Evendal wished he could turn all the people about him into statues, just so that he could rest with his son and comfort the boy after his cutting. He felt he was far, far away from that opportunity.
"You are misinformed and misled. Ddronhelim, if you would?"
The scarred Guard nodded and left the room to return with two men in his wake. One strove to march in tall and straight, but rapped an outstretched hand hard against the jamb in his ungoverned approach. Black hair gleaming against the light from the sconces and the window, his leaner face and down-turned mouth added a spare masculinity to a fleshly copy of Niem Dir's beauty. The other man, shorter and more cautious, let his Guard guide him.
"Uhult-helt," Evendal called. "You will give an accounting."
"What? Who is there? Who addresses me?"
"You can see Us," Evendal allowed. When the man's eyes focused, he knelt.
"You will give an accounting."
"Of what, Your Majesty? Lord, whence this glow?"
"What did you gain? How were you served in allowing others to take unsanctioned liberties with the documents in your charge?"
"I was served most generously, Your Majesty."
"Monetarily?"
Uhult-helt shook his head. "I was allowed to live, Your Majesty."
"We hear you, Uhult-helt. And We believe that you came to act out of self-preservation. Yet We also assert that you placed yourself in such extremity."
Uhult-helt blushed in distress at the accusation. "How so, Your Majesty? I am not a daring or ambitious man."
"You held ambitions for Siarwak, did you not? And for royal favour, no? And had nothing to offer in return but mischief, and the abetting of others' mayhem."
"To aspire to love, or to render my position more secure... How are these things bad or evil?" Uhult-helt challenged.
"Of themselves they are not. But you had other responsibilities, pledges you had made that took precedence over concerns for a work situation that was not endangered. And any person who makes their affections contingent on your aiding them is offering you fool's gold. As you well knew."
Uhult-helt turned nearly crimson in his distress, confession enough that he had indeed known what his decisions meant at the time he had made them.
"When did you hie to the adjudicator's den?"
Under Evendal's scrutiny, Uhult-helt sweated despite the chill in the air. "When Guard came asking for Siarwak." He trembled. "I knew she would claim I abetted her."
Evendal ald'Menam shook his head. "Siarwak had her own interests, and apparently did not think of you as her collaborator. You indict yourself."
"How might I make amends? Is there not some way?" Uhult-helt blurted out, aware that he had earned Telohema's fate.
"Yes," the King answered, "there well may be. Lialityne, have you a sheaf?" The lady handed His Majesty a rough square of foolscap. Evendal paused a moment to grin absently at the watermark, then gave it to the nervously befuddled clerk.
"You will make note on that of every principal whose writs, testimony, testament and grant you have mislaid, removed, altered and destroyed. Everyone that Siarwak, Telohema, Dhu-etslef, Polgern, Abduram, Nisakh, Onkira, Robiliam, Niem Dir," - here the former Warden's head snapped up in reaction to the imputation - "and any other noble might have approached you about. You will do so in one of the common forms of abridgement, nothing obscure. If you had absconded with the personal effects of your betters, you will detail their current location or possessor. You will then wait until We summon you back, doing nothing but writing, eating, sleeping, eliminating, and pondering how you have failed as a Hramal and as a vassal of the Throne and Thronelands. We expect an honest answer and a full and complete listing. Chielheroni, provide him with light, ink, more foolscap should his task require it, and a secured cell."
Guard and clerk bowed and retreated, guiding the trembling fellow out.
Evendal turned his brittle bright gaze on the former adjudicator. The lambency of his eyes changes tone, its brass radiating verdigris shadows. "Telohema, you shall list the people you have 'helped' into poverty, and 'helped' into a prosperity that other judges would not have granted. You shall list the people that have aided you, those who 'silenced' the petitioners who annoyed you, those whose legally valid rights you disregarded. You shall do this aloud for Lialityne's scribing."
"Yes," the woman replied dully. "My epitaph, heh?"
"Certainly your legacy," Evendal conceded. "How could you expect otherwise? We will not chastise you for the self-interest that is endemic to all our natures. But being Hramal means trusting, mitigating the loud shriek in our guts that demands everything. We do not condemn you for your self-interest, but for what you have chosen to do and be because of it. Lialityne?"
The young woman declined her head.
"Where would you?"
"On the other side of the Warden, so as not to distract Your Majesty."
Evendal blinked, pleased. "As you wish. Dilyn, if you would chaperone?" The Guard bowed and carried Lialityne's chair. "Telohema, We care not whether you sit or kneel, but you may not stand or tower over the young lady. Understand?" Evendal did not wait for an answer.
"Aldul?"
The Kwo-edan waited.
"I... I would not have them far away. Palmed off to another with the same neglect they've known most of their lives."
Aldul knew immediately whom Evendal referred to. "Never mind what's proper, what's safe, what's accepted, Evendal. People pay attention to such only when it serves them. You know what you want to do. Speak it."
"Set them up on the other side of us. Kept close, attendant. But who could serve their needs?"
Aldul smirked. To the ignorant, the autocratic Lord Evendal would seem a mass of contradictions. The question he voiced was not the question he needed answered. His social ineptitude emerged at odd moments, a trait no king dared admit to. "So you would groom them as pages? Heralds or attendants for your son?" Aldul queried, letting him know that his intentions met a socially acceptable convention. "Kinmeln and Ierwbae can instruct them. But you will need to speak with them first."
Evendal looked quizzically at Aldul, but the priest refused to elaborate. He turned to the head of the bed in time to see Eirath-harl pulling back the counterpane. "Hold!"
The young boy jumped and let go of the bedding, pressing his arms tight against his sides and crouching low, his shoulder-blades all but framing his head in a clearly habitual defence posture.
The sight curdled Evendal's stomach. "Come over here, both of you. We mean you no harm, in truth."
Eventually, with a little encouragement from Aldul and Hielbrae, the two boys stood fidgeting in front of Evendal; Eirath-harl on his left, Niar-lles on his right. "Forgive Us for shouting at you. You did not warrant that." He waited.
"It is well," Niar-lles mumbled.
"That is Our son. As We said before, he has had perilous knife-work done to him. Do you understand what We mean?" Two heads nodded in solemn fear. Evendal asked the question a second time, softly. The lads, after silent consideration, shook their heads. The glow to Evendal's face increased. "He can not walk. He will never be able to walk. But he is Our son. Precious to Us beyond all telling. Were We to learn of your abusing him, taunting him or teasing him, whatever your intentions, you would not survive into the next bell. Do you understand?" Both boys nodded. "Do you believe Us?" Again they nodded. "Good, for We do not lie."
He reached out and, despite their startled pulling back, gripped Eirath-harl's right and Niar-lles' left hand. "Understand this as well, then. We pledge the same for you both." The fleeting frown on Niar-lles' face and the continued silence from both boys told Evendal he had not been clear enough. "If anyone harms you, teases you cruelly or painfully, threatens you or tries to cozen you, their life shall be Ours. Kri-estaul is Our son, yes, but you are also of worth."
"You mean you have a daughter for us?" Niar-lles whispered. His face held a strange squint, an odd expression half of hope and half of dread.
Evendal realised the child's question was not meant the way it sounded and forbore glaring at Niem Dir. "No, Lles." He deliberately dropped the part of the boy's name referring to the sister. "We mean you yourselves are of worth. That We would be more than sad were you made unwelcome, or belittled here. You have Our ear at any hour you need, without waiting on anyone's permission. We are now your foster-father, and this is now your home. No one can make you leave. Understand?"
This time the two boys made no move at all. With a roll of the eyes over his own density, Evendal dropped all formality. "Back when I was a boy, long ago, I was convinced that my father hated me. My mother scared me. I doubt that I have ever been more lonely than then. I loved them but could not believe that they even liked me." He said no more, but waited.
Eirath-harl piped up. "What did you do?"
"I found a friend. Someone who cared for me. She was old. Old. But she would sit and listen to me, and didn't pretend everything could be fixed. She didn't tell me I didn't know how I felt, or that I didn't understand things. I hope that I can be that for you two. I also hope that you can be a friend for my son. If you cannot, then you cannot. This will still be your home and I will still be your foster-father, and people had better respect you still.
"I will expect a few concessions from you. I have this habit of hugging children. Of seeing they are well fed and as close to happy as they can be." The two boys simply stared at the King with stony faces. "Time will prove or disprove my words. For now, I would imagine both of you would like some food. And I recommend a wash and a rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Niar-lles replied quickly. Eirath-harl looked ready to cry at the offer.
"The rooms on the other side of the jakes are your rooms. Darhelmir?" The Guard stepped from behind Evendal and bowed. "To Shulro first. Then ask for our own repast. Any change in that agenda will come from Ourself or another Guard. No one else. Ddronhelim? Dilyn? When Lialityne is done, you escort Telohema down below. She is to remain there until morning." Ddronhelim bowed. "Regarding Frichestah..." Evendal turned his face once again toward the head of the bed. "Matron Drussilikh? Might We impose on your resources and beg a scribe for the morrow to take down his maunderings as he enjoys the chills of Our under-grounds?"
"As you have need, Your Majesty, I am all too happy to grant it."
Evendal m'Alismogh glared at a purposefully quiet Frichestah.
All you can recall,
And all that you would hide
Those truths I compel -
Give to all who would ask.
The truths you disdained,
The words you avoided,
Shall hence fall like rain
From your lips to all ears.
"Once you have served Our purposes, done what you can to repair your damage, you are no longer Our concern. But for the moment, as We just intimated, you shall enjoy some of the hospitality you have earned. Rhoswyl, if you would escort Frichestah?" The Guard nodded.
The Ruler of the Thronelands glanced from Frichestah to Telohema.
From this moment on,
Honesty most visceral rules you both.
Everything you are,
View in the mirror of your comrade and
Turn to stone or not.
"Lady Niem Dir," Evendal called. "Acknowledged by you or not, this is Dhu-etslef."
It was not a question, but Niem Dir replied, "Yes, it is." Red-cheeked with fury, she rubbed at her leg, where Evendal did not doubt she bore a weapon.
"We grow tired. But not so tired that We would see this threat to your remaining family continue. Stay your rage for a moment. Dhu-etslef, We grant you what sight you once had, again."
The man blinked rapidly as his surroundings came into view.
"Henhyroc? Mulienhas?" The two Guard approached. "We should have seen to this immediately after, but... Would you see to Nisakh's disposition?"
"As you wish, Your Majesty." Mulienhas replied.
"Notify Iesaldim, through Heamon, and ask if she wants her brother's ashes. If she does not, see that his soot graces the smelliest jakes in the under-grounds."
"Certainly, Your Majesty."
Rhoswyl, Henhyroc and Mulienhas set about their jobs with alacrity, and still Evendal felt crowded and whelmed.
"Lady Niem Dir, were we to relinquish ownership of the Eastern Dark into your hands, what would pass?"
Niem Dir's slablike face changed little, but her eyes softened with yearning. "What would you?"
Evendal's response was immediate. "No one you adopt or rear may supplant Niar-lles or Eirath-harl as heir. What training female children receive, all male children must as well. You shall have no authority over Niar-lles or Eirath-harl, except when the time comes to formally invest them. And when one of them becomes Warden, you may not hold the principal advisory function to their rule."
"Do you hate me so much?"
"Oh my lady!" Evendal sighed. "Had you a more pliable heart, I would court you. I and We hate you not at all. We are well aware of the power a woman elder has in the Dark, so you must not hold the penultimate position of authority there, to be constantly at odds with a son still vulnerable to you. That is also why I would relieve you of all authority over your sons in their minority but for the most nominal."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Dhu-etslef rumbled out.
Evendal paid the man no heed. "Can you tell Us Our concerns are unwarranted? That you embrace either son as an heir you will ever respect? Or a child of your womb that you love? If you think to tell Us so, We must brand you a liar." Evendal glanced at Ierwbae, who had been kneeling next to Metthendoenn. The young Guard stood and moved to the King's side, bent to share whispers, and then left the room at a trot.
Niem Dir nodded solemnly, oddly calm. "You are correct, Your Majesty."
Lialityne set her stylus inside its wallet and arched her back, stretching muscles and yawning. Promptly, Ddronhelim moved away from the wall. Together with Dilyn, he pulled Telohema from off the floor where she had been sitting and walked the adjudicator out of the room.
"Dhu-etslef, Look upon Us." The distracted man obeyed. "Did you deflower your sister?"
Coolly, the tall fellow answered. "Which one?"
"Nehaleidda."
"Yes,"
"And Eirahe?"
"Yes,"
"Did you cut Eirahe's throat?"
"Yes,"
"Why did you kill your own sister?"
"You want me to say what you already know? Very well. To become the only choice my loving mother would have for heir."
"This mattered more to you than the trust your siblings had in you?"
"Thwarting my mother, making her regret..."
To Evendal's surprise, Dhu-etslef stopped speaking. "Continue."
"Cajoling, threatening and buying off my companions, my friends, and my betrothed. Because I was not attending to my duties toward her firstborn daughter as she thought I ought. Because they were beneath our family's dignity. Because she could!"
The words rang true in Evendal's ear. "We hear your grievance, Dhu-etslef. We have some questions you shall answer. For instance: If male siblings serve as guardians for female heirs, how is it that your name is not Niar-lles?"
"Mother miscarried what would have been her first daughter. And then father asked that the first son be exempted from that tradition. After he died, mother decided to no longer honour his wishes, and invested me as a kind of overseer to all the girl-children."
"Why did you start with the younger?"
Dhu-etslef shrugged. "That is who I had at hand when I thought to execute mother's daughters."
"But then you let the eldest live?"
"Is that what you call her current condition?" The eldest son snorted in scorn and pride.
"Did Eirahe know your intentions? That you had essentially kidnapped her and intended her death?"
"Not until the night I slit her throat. She thought I was hiding her from Polgern's attentions."
"Until that night, did Eirahe desire the Wardship?"
The man started to speak, stopped in surprise, and then replied, "I do not know."
"You gave no thought to the question?"
"No. I only thought of how mother would feel. And how to inflict the most pain on her."
"Her? Your mother? Or Eirahe?"
"Mother."
"Was your sister Eirahe an unreasonable sort?" The murderer shook his head. "Did she ever express herself regarding thoughts, ambitions, or hopes for her future?"
"Ah... if she did, I do not recall."
"Tell Us more of the source of your distemper."
The man actually ground his teeth. "I had begun to court the daughter of Periolath, the Master of the Silversmiths. The woman was one I had chosen. Smart, sharp-tongued, delightful. Of considerable standing and dowered. Mother decided she was too pliable and accommodating, and not familiar enough with the ways of the Dark. When careful discussion with Periolath did not accomplish her whim, mother wrote him. According to this letter, I was a beast without sense, subject to maniacal fits of berserker violence and of confusion. Purportedly, I had violated and impregnated a number of young girls, citizens of the Dark, and refused responsibility for any of them. Without blatantly writing it out, she intimated bestiality. This along with the usual slanders of drinking and betting excessively, and whoring when I was in my right mind. She supposedly sought to warn him, a man she respected too much to allow make such a mistake as to betroth his genteel daughter to such a burden. Of course, none of this was true."
Evendal did not need confirmation that he heard fact as no dissonance touched his ears.
"If a friend refused her bartering, feeling loyalty stronger than avarice, mother turned to that friend's parents or guardians. The older men and women unanimously felt that the Warden being in their social debt was more important than their ward's principles.
"Surely you have seen my brothers long enough to see what her 'love' does to us. The knowledge of her grief and mounting frustration, as all she holds most dear to her turns to dust and ash despite her governance, soothes me daily. "
"Did you think to simply leave? Leave the Dark? Leave Osedys? Create your own life?"
"No. She would learn of it, and do what she could to poison that as well! And why should I let her be?"
"Did you think to convey your ill usage to your brothers and sisters? Find common cause with them? Find a sanctuary of mutual understanding with your younger brothers?"
Dhu-etslef shook his head.
"You wilfully raped and killed one sister, and raped your other sister, innocents in the amoral struggle between you and your mother. Neither of them threatened you in any way. But the person you most wished to harm you left unscathed. You are a coward and a fool, Dhu-etslef. And your mother's missive to Periolath proved prophetic: You are a beast without sense. Violating and impregnating citizens of the Eastern Dark, and refusing responsibility.
"Niem Dir! You created this. Explain why We should not make him heir?"
The woman stared at Evendal in disbelief. "You surely jest. He. He murdered one daughter and buggered another. He cares nothing for the Eastern Dark itself. He... he..."
"Is exactly as you created him. He is your creation. Your responsibility. He is more like you than a twin would be."
"How... how can you say that? I am nothing like that monster!"
"Where was your kindness toward either Niar-lles or Harl?" Evendal challenged, tired beyond words. "Give both of them three to five more years and you will have left only two paths open to them. Successful suicide or Dhu-etslef's. Were they to choose the former, you would then be hauled in here and sentenced for murder."
"What?"
Evendal rubbed his eyes. "We are the Left Hand of the Unalterable. For all that his thoughts are soaked and twisted in fury, Dhu-etslef's assessment is not utterly erroneous. You would indeed have never let him go, had he left the Thronelands. You would have seen him as a fled slave or contracted servant, and done whatever you had to for his return. You ruined his best chance for stability and maturity, with someone who could serve as a mirror of his best instincts and not his worst, merely because the woman did not suit you. Not out of any sense of the good of your realm or for any noble cause.
"So, We ask you. Why should We not make him heir? How is he different from you?"
Niem Dir struggled to answer, finally concluding, "I have killed no one."
Evendal all but screamed. "That is pure chance! Circumstance. Don't you understand what We have been saying, fool of a woman? Had Niar-lles been brought in as a corpse, as was his intent, you would now be dead also. Executed by Us for his murder. For you would be the one ultimately and intimately responsible. How is he different from you?"
Drawing a ragged, desperate breath, Niem Dir confessed, "I do not know of any way, except that he is male, and younger."
Immediately, the King replied, "Intention and action. He willed to murder his sister, and to brutalise her. She was doomed in his eyes long before he got hold of her. She was not a person but the means to an end, just as all your sons are to you. But, whether from personal discipline or simply that the idea never occurred to you, you have never sought the death of another to satisfy your obsessions."
"You know this of me?" Niem Dir offered her own challenge.
"Yes," Evendal stated simply. "We know that, had Dhu-etslef wed Periolath's daughter, or any other woman not sanctioned by you, you would have tried to make her your accomplice in controlling Dhu-etslef. You see yourself as the arbiter of your people's lives. That is a far cry from being a dispenser of their deaths. Dhu-etslef did not even judge his sister worthy of death. Because she was not as real to him as his fury and grief, such a thought never occurred to him."
"What shall you do with him?"
"Nothing."
Both Henhyroc and Ierwbae returned in that moment, paused in the doorway, and nodded their 'all's well'. Evendal nodded back in acknowledgement. Ierwbae again stepped up to the King's side, handed his liege a small purse, then returned to Metthendoenn's cot.
The King turned to Henhyroc. "Welcome back. Would you bind Dhu-etslef, please?" The Guard moved forward to obey.
"Nothing?" Niem Dir repeated, taken aback.
"In this matter we make you Our deputy. With this proviso. If he is to die, it must be by your hand, and yours alone. No anthills. No weighing down with stones, or using a body of water. Again, he is your creation."
"I understand."
"Come. Approach Us." Evendal held out his arms.
Extricating herself from a dozing Nehaleidda, Niem Dir stood, walked up to the young king, and was surprised with a kiss. As Evendal leaned back, Niem Dir realised what he had just done. The young ruler's next words completed the ritual she had begun when she first walked through the door.
"Be you Our good vassal and true friend, hence. We offer Dhu-etslef as Our gift, for he is, in the end, a part of the fief that now rejects him. Regarding the Eastern Dark... let it remain under Our guidance and protection, with you as Our deputy, unless you fail in your duty and in Our direction. Kneel, Niem Dir, and hold out your hand."
The woman slowly, with palpable uncertainty, obeyed.
The King placed the purse in her hand. "We offer you this to seal thy investiture and Our appointment of thee. You may open it, if you wish, and thus know how much We value you. And know that it is because of, not in spite of, your stubborn nature."
Niem Dir, curious, obeyed. Unlacing the purse and turning it upside down, she found in her palm a pearl the size of an onion. The pearl had a dark gray-blue colour and a sheen that, like a cats-eye, suggested greater depths and dimensions within. It caught her eye and held it, this silent, unassuming egg. Niem Dir felt the tension in her shoulders and the tightness in her beleaguered neck-muscles diminish, for the first time in eight years. Experimentally, again uncertain, she turned her head to her left. Her neck spasmed. She forced herself to slowly return her face forward, resisting the urge to jerk it back.
"No, my dear. At first, turn it the direction you want to move, and keep your eyes on it while you turn your head." Evendal directed gently.
Niem Dir followed her liege's suggestion, and her neck gave no protest. "This is... This is a Pearl of Delight!"
Evendal nodded solemnly, and put a finger to his lips, indicating she was not to reveal the nature of his gift. The Pearls of Delight were legendary, rare, one of the sources of the financial independence the hereditary Rulers of the Thronelands enjoyed. The fascination the pearls evoked in their handlers, their unique visual qualities and near indestructibility, along with the soothing dwoemer they seemed to exude made Evendal's fealty gift into an honour nonpariel.
"As with all fealty-gifts, this is provisional." The King repeated.
The Warden of the Eastern Dark nodded and bowed again.
"You will send report of Dhu-etslef's disposition, once it is accomplished?"
"Yes, my Lord." Niem Dir swallowed hard on the words.
"You know Our will regarding Niar-lles. Let it be done as We have said. And take what measures are required toward that result. You are Our Warden only until We judge him fit."
Niem Dir clutched the now-bagged pearl. "Yes, my Lord."
"We would recommend you petition the Archate or Anlota for an attendant for Nehaleidda. But that is only Our suggestion. Retire now where you will, and see to Dhu-etslef's detention yourself. Should you need a Guard, you have only to ask."
"That would be most helpful, Your Majesty."
"Britlyen, if you would? You both have Our leave, as does your escort."
"My thanks for your attention and grace, Your Majesty." Niem Dir whispered, then cautiously woke Nehaleidda and guided her to her feet. Together with her surviving daughter and murderous son, the former sovereign of the Eastern Dark quit the royal presence.
(77) A "dwoemer" is the use or manifestation of a "magic" that is innate, ontic, like second sight. It can thus be an instinctive manifestation or a deliberate employment of a natural capacity. A "glamour" is generally a result of pure mental and verbal artifice, deliberately and wilfully engaged. The warding Aldul refers to could, itself, be considered a bit of glamour.
(78) Note (by an old Law) a stranger, or he which cometh guest-wise to an house, and there lieth the third night, is called an Hoghenhine (or Agenhine) and after the third night he is accounted one of his family in whose house he so lyeth: and if he offend the Kings peace, his Oast must be answerable for him. Termes de Ley.
(79) Hramal distinguishes singular or occasional action from habitual or repetitive action. The abbreviation etched on Telohema's hand was "assaulter" in perfect repetitive case and form.
(80) C.S. Lewis's friend Charles Williams (tutored by Dante and Aristotle) refers to it as one of the 11 fruits of nobility and defines it as that "which moderates our anger and our overmuch patience with external evils."
Happy Midwinter, Saturnalia, Kwanzaa, Hannukah to all. May the light(s) of your world return warmer and brighter than before.