The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  “You heard me, obviously. If you won’t attend hearings, I’ll be left no choice but to retain Adison as closest to the throne during the King’s absence.”

  Aiden considered this a moment in silence. Lyell smiled faintly. He knew he had Aiden now. Despite his reluctance, Aiden wouldn’t allow Adison to grant hearings. Too many people would suffer under his heavy hand.

  Aiden ran a hand through his shock of heavy blonde hair. “You are as manipulative as Adison, Lyell, do you know that?”

  Lyell’s smile was grim, but triumphant.

  “It isn’t something to be proud of, First Advisor.”

  Ever so briefly, Lyell met Aiden’s probing gaze. He rose to his feet and crossed to the King’s side. Laying a hand on Aiden’s shoulder, he said, “I’ll expect you shortly.” His eyes dropped to the clothing lying across the chair. “See that you’re properly attired.”

  Aiden’s nod was abrupt, the slightest acquiesce. Lyell paused in the outer hallway and pulled the doors closed at his back. He leaned against them and permitted himself a full smile. First victory of the day, he thought, and it wasn’t yet midhour.

  * * *

  Aiden lounged on the throne, his mind wandering out of the castle to the rolling hills beyond his kingdom. He dreamed of riding his horse, Dancing Thunder, feeling the beating of the wind in his hair and against his body. Beneath him, Dancing Thunder’s muscles rippled with power and speed, his hooves eating the ground at an alarming pace.

  “Your Majesty!” Lyell’s voice shattered the carefully built dream.

  Aiden blinked and straightened in the throne. He felt the reproachful eyes of his advisors on him and the disgusted stares of the townspeople waiting for him to grant hearings. His eyes passed briefly between Lyell and the two men who were expecting his ruling. With a sickening drop in his stomach, he realized he hadn’t heard anything the two men had said. His eyes made the circuit of the room, attempting desperately to find an ally, someone who could lend him aid in this embarrassing time of need. His eyes lighted on Adison, his oldest brother. Adison was grinning spitefully, enjoying Aiden’s discomfort. His superior, triumphant look only made Aiden more determined not to appear foolish again.

  “This is a difficult situation,” he said, choosing a neutral statement as opposed to something specific; however, unfortunately he’d used the exact same opening for all the previous hearings this day.

  Aiden felt Adison’s cold smile as he turned it on the waiting townspeople. Hot rage boiled in Aiden’s blood, but he simply could think of nothing more to say. Thankfully, Lyell came to his rescue.

  “Yes, Your Lordship, disputes of land are always difficult, especially when livestock are involved,” said Lyell.

  Livestock...livestock...Aiden understood the prompt, but what did livestock have to do with this dispute of land? He dropped his eyes to his hands and nodded to buy time.

  “Unfortunately, when men put up fences between their neighbors, it often times gives a sense of distrust...”

  “Yes, but the problem here, Your Esteemed Lordship,” interrupted Adison, “is that there are no fences between these two plots of land.”

  Aiden’s eyes flashed to Adison’s face. Adison, as proper, would not meet the bold stare. A murmur filtered through the hearing chamber. Lyell shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, a sign that Aiden was again overstepping the bounds of etiquette.

  Aiden swept his stare to the ceiling of the hearing chamber and he began to scrutinize the rich tapestries that hung there. One in particular caught his eyes, that of a man in armor on foot, sword in hand, standing beneath the mammoth figure of a green dragon, fire blazing from the animal’s mouth. Aiden aligned himself with the warrior; Adison reminded him of the dragon.

  Again Lyell cleared his throat and Aiden shook his head. Mustn’t wander now. Livestock and land disputes and fences were more important than an imaginary battle between the serpentine Adison and himself.

  Then an idea struck him. He cocked his head at the two men. “Refresh my memory,” he said. “Exactly how many animals and how much land is in dispute?”

  The two men glanced briefly at each other, Adison scowled, and Lyell shifted uncomfortably once more. The rest of the advisors had long ago bowed their heads in irritation.

  “An entire herd,” said one of the men with sun wrinkled skin, “and more than ten parcels of land.”

  Aiden licked his lips and nodded his head. “Specifically how many animals in a herd?”

  Again the two men glanced at one another. “Forty odd,” said the second man with a short, stocky build.

  “Forty odd? In other words, you aren’t exactly sure?”

  Lyell pursed his lips in interest, Adison leaned forward in his chair, and the other advisors lifted their heads. Aiden was obviously driving at something that seemed remotely relevant to this case.

  “No, your lordship, I’d say forty was pretty accurate,” said the first man.

  “Yeah, forty’s ‘bout right,” added the second.

  Aiden smiled. “Do you realize you both agreed on something? How long have you farmed your individual parcels of land?”

  “That land’s been in our two families since before the First Siege of Dorland,” said the stout man.

  “Our great grandfathers is both buried on it,” said the weathered man.

  Aiden considered this fact. “Any marriages between the two families?” he asked.

  The two men nodded simultaneously. "My mother’s sister married your uncle’s third son.”

  “Naw, it was his second son by his third wife.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. And then there was our cousins who run off and started their own farm other side of the kingdom.”

  “On our fathers’ side, if I remember right...”

  “Well,” said Aiden, interrupting the amicable reminisce. “Don’t you think that with as much as you’ve both shared over these past years, and before either of you were born, that you might be able to find some mutual use for those forty animals and those ten parcels of land? Maybe you could put it up as a dowry of sorts for one of your own children.”

  The two men nodded in agreement. “You know,” said the stout one, putting his hand on his neighbor’s shoulder, “my oldest has had his eye on that third daughter of yours.”

  “So I’ve seen,” said the weathered man. “Right good farmer, that one. I seen him out working like to beat a storm...”

  Aiden smiled as he watched the two men walk out with one of the advisors to sign off their complaint. They’d forgotten to thank him, but that often happened. He was pleased that for once he’d found a solution on his own, without Adison or Lyell or any of the advisors’ assistance. Yet even with his triumph fresh in his mind, his eyes lifted involuntarily to the tapestry of the warrior and dragon. In truth, he’d much rather daydream than sit in this stuffy room, listening to these tedious complaints.

  With a heavy sigh, he lowered his eyes to Lyell. Wasn’t it time to put an end to this for the day? He pleaded his case to Lyell in thoughts as he’d read the Stravad were able to do somewhere over the Grozik Mountains or in distant Chernow. As if it worked, Lyell cleared his throat and lifted his voice so it would project throughout the hearing chamber.

  “The King will give audiences again tomorrow at the regularly scheduled time, but today he will not be able to entertain any more complaints.”

  Entertain...interesting choice of words, Aiden thought. Nothing about hearings, or being King for that matter, was entertaining. Then with a sickening drop in his stomach, Aiden remembered it was now time to visit his invalid Queen.

  * * *

  Aiden paused in the doorway and glanced into the room. His shoulder muscles tightened involuntarily when he heard Carona’s piteous whine of complaint to her nurse.

  “Must you be so rough! Really, Maren, you’re going to break a bone or something with those peasant hands of yours.”

  Aiden shut his eyes and swallowed. Oh, would this intermina
ble day ever end? One hour...he must pass at least one hour with his wife before he could escape. Many of the advisors had begun whispering that he only spent a few moments with her before fleeing. And in truth, he had. It was horrible to sit, listening to Carona complain about this and that. However, he had only three years left to beget another child with her, or else they might reconsider making Adison King.

  Aiden shuddered at the thought of coupling with Carona again. She had actually wept, her eyes squeezed tight, hands clasped on her breast, face turned away from him. How he’d gotten her pregnant the first time escaped him. To make another attempt, after all this time, was almost unthinkable. She was pretty in a fragile, wilting flower sort of way, but she took no joy in anything, especially anything to do with the flesh. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine turning the crown over to Adison. Adison wanted to be King and Aiden wanted to roam the countryside. If he were no longer King, he would be free from hearings and visiting Carona and banquets and all the other auspices of being King. Life would again be pleasurable. And perhaps, just perhaps, there was a spirited young woman out there who wouldn’t shudder at his touch...

  “...and this bed is so hard and lumpy; it’s a wonder I don’t wake every morning with bruises all over my body.”

  Aiden narrowed his eyes. It’s a wonder you don't have bruises, all right, he thought spitefully, then shook his head. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself through the doorway and into the room. Carona glanced up at him, then quickly pulled her dressing gown closed about her throat. Aiden noted the action, but avoided making eye contact with her.

  “Good evening, my Queen,” he said, crossing the room and taking a seat in the window box. Maren, the nurse, gave him a look of gratitude as she bowed first to her King, then the Queen, and scurried from the room.

  The moment Maren was gone, Carona leaned toward her husband and spoke in a hushed whisper. “Aiden, really, that woman is terrible. She’s so rough and unthinking; I’m often afraid that she’s going to do some permanent damage to me.”

  Aiden lifted his heavy brown eyes and stared hard at his wife. Immediately she dropped her eyes and began to fumble with her dressing gown.

  “What would you have me do about it, Carona?”

  Carona glanced up at him in shock. Even Aiden found himself surprised by the note of bitter irritation in his voice. Looking out the window, he took a deep breath. The sun was setting on the lake, its brilliant rays making rainbow patterns on the water. Two black swans swam in and out of the reeds, gliding effortlessly across the water. Aiden watched the graceful motion, noting the way the yellow rays of dying sunshine illuminated the ebony feathers of the birds and made them almost incandescent. The swans were powerful and strong, their proud necks curved, their black eyes examining the world around them critically. The pair had been a gift to the young King and Queen upon their marriage, a gift from Aiden’s father, Alton, but unlike his son and his Queen, the swans were not unlucky in rearing young. Already the pair had passed four fruitful seasons, many of their offspring now fine young swans themselves.

  Aiden and Carona’s only child, a son, had died two days after his early birth. Since that time, more than a year ago, Carona had entirely taken to her bed and would not allow her husband to come near her.

  Slowly Aiden became aware that Carona was crying, not an outright sobbing, but a quiet shaking of the shoulders and a soft whimpering in her throat. Aiden swung his eyes from the lake and glared at her. Anger welled within him, anger uncommon to the usually passive King, and it startled him. Quickly he choked it down.

  “Carona, please, why are you crying?” he asked, forcing his voice to be gentle.

  “You are so cruel to me, everyone is so cruel to me, just because I can’t do the same things you can.”

  “No, Carona, I don’t mean to be cruel, it’s...” He paused, searching for words. “I’ve had a long day granting hearings. My temper’s short. If Maren offends you, I’ll have her removed.”

  Carona lifted her hands to her face and continued the same quiet sobbing. “You don’t understand anything. No one does. Do you think I want to lay here in this bed all day, doing nothing, going nowhere? Do you think I don’t want to go for rides or attend royal functions like everyone else? Do you think I like being an invalid?”

  Aiden had to choke back the yes that rose in his throat. “Of course not,” he said, leaning closer to her, “but perhaps if you did get out of bed and got dressed...”He halted in mid-sentence.

  Carona lifted her dry eyes and met his gaze, her eyes narrowing into angry slits.

  “What are you suggesting, Aiden Cerik?”

  Aiden felt himself beginning his customary backpedaling, but he forced his gaze to remain riveted on hers. “I’m not suggesting anything...”

  “You’re suggesting that I can leave this bed, that there isn’t anything wrong with me. After all I’ve done for you, how could you be so cruel?”

  “I...” stuttered the King, hating himself for cringing in this manner. “I’m not saying that you...”

  “I bore your child. I nearly died trying to give you an heir and this is what I get. It’s just like you to take Maren’s side in this. You always take her side, you’re always against me.”

  Aiden rose to his feet. “I’m not on anyone’s side...”

  “Oh, you say that now, but when I needed you, you showed me who you believed. If I didn’t know any better I might be suspicious about your overwhelming concern for Maren’s feelings.”

  “What?" cried Aiden in utter bewilderment.

  “Oh, I see the way she looks at you and you look at her. If she wasn’t a peasant’s daughter, you’d throw me out and put her in my bed as quick as I could wink an eye.”

  “Carona!” shouted Aiden and she stopped, stunned. Aiden clenched his fists.

  “What now, Aiden? Are you going to hit me? Beat me for speaking my mind? Well, go ahead. I can’t defend myself and you know it. I can hardly get out of this bed, so there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

  Aiden gaped at her, astounded. He’d never been anything but exceedingly gentle with his wife. How could she suggest he’d harm her in anyway? True, thoughts of violence entered his mind occasionally, but they were only thoughts, nothing more. To suggest otherwise was appalling. He drew a deep breath, expanding his chest, trying desperately to calm the raging emotions within him.

  “Carona, I have never struck you and you know that.”

  Again she bowed her head and started her quiet weeping. Aiden shut his eyes, squaring his jaw. Where had everything gone wrong this day? First there was the argument with Everard, his valet, and then the dreadful hearings (he’d forgotten his one success already), and now these few moments with Carona. He opened his eyes and glanced at her, but she was still weeping, her shoulders shaking dramatically, her head downcast.

  “Do you want me to leave, Carona?”

  She mumbled something that he couldn’t hear. He clenched his jaw harder. Self-constraint, the mark of a good King is self-constraint. Hadn’t his father told him that time and time again? Still, in eight years of marriage to Carona, he hadn’t learned it and things were only getting worse with time.

  “I’m sorry, Carona, I didn’t hear you.”

  Again she mumbled and he strained with all his might to catch just something...just a few words so he might piece together an actual sentence. “...dun...nuff...”

  Dun nuff...dun nuff...Eldon’s star, what did that mean? ...dun nuff...

  “Done enough!” he said aloud and her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing suspiciously on him. He clamped his mouth closed, realizing he’d spoken out loud. She looked at him as if he were insane.

  “You want me to leave?”

  She glared at him, disregarding decorum, her eyes boring holes right through his body. “Get out!” she said in strained courtesy.

  Aiden didn’t wait for a confirmation. He bolted for the door and pulled it closed. He moved a few steps down the corridor and leaned
against the wall, shutting his eyes. He and Carona had been married eight years. They’d had one unsuccessful pregnancy and a handful of sorry attempts. He had only three more years of his kingship to produce an heir or the throne would go to Adison. Yet if audiences with Carona continued to go as badly as this one, he could almost hand Adison the crown any day now. When two people disliked each other as intensely as Carona and Aiden did, it wasn’t likely they’d spend much time indulging in marital fulfillment. It was a chore for Aiden, a horror for Carona, and a disastrous combination on both their parts. Aiden thought back to the many young women he’d entertained before his marriage. How pleasant it had been, how satisfying – everything that it wasn’t with Carona. He shivered thinking about coupling with her now.

  What a miserable, sorry day he’d spent, but just so were many days since he’d taken the crown. In fact, he could count on one hand how many had actually been pleasant. Most of those were spent with his youngest brother Alasdair or when the exotic Nazarien passed through Dorland on their way to Tirsbor, the Nazarien outpost in the Cronin desert. Aiden was fascinated by Stravad. He loved their folklore, which Alasdair told him, and their mysticism. Adison thought it ridiculous to believe they held any special powers that Humans didn’t, but Aiden had seen enough of them in Dorland when he was younger to believe they did.

  He opened his eyes and glanced down both ends of the corridors. Guards waited at command for him to move. How tiresome it became to always be followed from one place to the next. Aiden never went anywhere, not even to the lavatory, without a guard close at hand. He shook himself, realizing he was in a grim mood. The only thing that could bring him out of it now was Alasdair, his youngest brother.

  Aiden stepped through the door of Alasdair’s library, breathing deeply of the musty book scent. He liked the way the library smelled, not as well as the meadows after rain, but nearly as much. The library smelled of old, deep secrets, hidden knowledge, lost eras. As a consequence of spending most of his time here, Alasdair also smelled like these things, when he didn’t smell of sickness. Aiden always found himself hushed when he entered the library as if to speak loudly would profane the sanctity of it. He walked silently across the deep, plush carpeting, slipping into a chair across from his brother. Alasdair lifted his eyes, a far-off look in them. He raised his hand and pulled his spectacles away from his face, laying them in the book he had been reading. Recognition dawned slowly on him and he smiled.