by Megan Hart
I should have gone to the fight field, but I wasn't ready to face Lir. I left the White Palace and stalked the streets, walking because I could think of nothing else to do. I had some coin in my waistpurse, and I thought perhaps to spend it on ale to drown my sorrows.
I never made it past the front door of The Prince's Arms. Someone had tacked up another of the posters, this the most explicit I'd seen. The sight of it put me out of the mood for poetry and lager. I turned as the clouds that had been haunting the sky all morning parted. A shaft of sunlight fell upon The House of the Book.
Someone had desecrated the white stone.
Black marks, drawings and text, covered the rounded building as far as I could see. Big words and small, pictures of women unveiled, pictures of Our Lord Sinder with his quiver of arrows and the Forest of Time around him.
The hour was early, but I was not the only person on the street. One by one, we gathered around The House of the Book. Nobody said anything.
"What will come next?" Asked a merchant from beside me, his old man's voice quavery and uncertain.
"I don't know."
He pointed a gnarled finger. "This violates the Book itself!"
"'Tis only a building, old father." A plain-dressed man beside him scowled and looked me up and down as though daring me to speak. "'Tis only words. Words is what're in the Book, too, you know. Words is all they are, and if we ain't supposed to pay attention to some, why should we pay attention to others?"
"But if you believe what's in the Book, you can't believe what's written there," said a third man who'd stepped out of the poetry house behind me. "You know that, Godfren."
Godfren jerked his chin toward the black-streaked wall. "The priests and the Book Monster tell us what's in the Book. I've never read it, myself. How do I know what they're saying is true?"
"Are you saying that what's written up there is true?" This from another of the crowd, a burly man with an angry face. "That men and women were meant as soul mates to each other?"
Godfren spat and moved closer to the burly man, who stepped back. "I'm saying I can read those words on that wall and decide for myself to believe them or not. Why shouldn't I have the same right with the Book itself?"
"Nobody's denying you the right to read the Book," I said quietly. "Anybody can read it."
"Yeah," Godfren said slyly. "But which one? Did you know my father's father's Book has different words in it? But I can't prove it to you, no, because the priests decreed they needed tribute. All copies of the Book had to be put into the fire."
"I remember that," said a younger man. "But King Harrigan gave everyone new ones."
"New ones," said Godfren. "New words."
The crowd began to mumble and mutter at that point, and Godfren backed down, shaking his head as he pushed his way past the scowls and taunts. The old man beside me shivered and glanced at me with his good eye.
"He's right," he whispered with a nervous look toward the men now crowding around the House of the Book again. "Stupid to spout it, but he's right."
"You know this, old father?"
He nodded and leaned even closer, as though to tell me something more, but his good eye looked toward the crest on my tunic, and his wrinkled face went white. He stepped back, shaking his head and bowing a little.
"Your mercy, my young Lord! I meant nothing....I'm an old man...." And he ducked away into the throng before I could find him again to ask him what he'd been going to say.
This smacked of Daelyn's handiwork, and I grudgingly gave him credit. If Rosten were frothing about mindless garbage scribbled on his pristine white walls, he'd be too distracted to count the number of follies gone missing in the night. Still, the act had been risky and foolish, for all it incited those who saw it to sympathy or violence.
Daelyn was up but not dressed when I returned. He sat in the chair by his bed, his breakfast tray untouched and his hair tangled. He'd propped his feet on a low ottoman and covered himself with a knitted throw.
"Your mercy, my prince," I said as soon as I entered. "I would have returned sooner –"
He waved a hand at me. "Never mind, Aeris. I told you to go with Lir. I told you before, I have many who can cater to me."
I didn't tell him I hadn't been with Lir. The sight of him looking so worn tugged at me, and all the jealousy and anger of the day before fled.
"What do you want from me, Daelyn? If I'm not only to be your fetchencarry, and not your companion, but something else...won't you tell me what that something else is?"
His cheeks were pale, his eyes red-rimmed. He wore no cosmetic. He had fresh scrapes on his face...and dark grime beneath his fingernails. Boldly, I put my hand on his.
"Why did you take me from the market?"
His fingers curled over mine. "Aeris, when I saw you that day, I knew you were destined for great things. I wanted to help you reach them."
"But...why?" Confusion roiled in me.
He brought my hand to his cheek for a moment before letting it drop. "Because I could."
I shook my head, still uncertain. "I'm grateful for all you've given me. Please don't think I'm not. But I'm still unsure about my role here. With you."
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Are you asking me to tell you the future?"
"I only ask you to tell me the present. I'll let the future take care of itself."
He smiled. "Then, at present, you are my companion. You shall serve me in the manner I wish to be served, when I find it necessary, for no other reason than I wish it to be so."
I thought hard before answering. "I'm not very good at humility. Servitude scrapes at me."
"I knew that when I saw you in the marketplace, and I chose you anyway." Daelyn rested his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes again. His brow furrowed as though in pain. "If it scrapes at you, that is something you must get used to, or fail here."
"Fail at what?" I got to my feet. "How can I succeed, or fail, when you won't even tell me exactly what it is that you want from me?"
"Your voice is too loud."
I didn't lower it. "I’m not your lap dog, Daelyn!"
My cry echoed in his chamber. The sound of it embarrassed me, but my anger wouldn't let me yield. I'd lost too much recently. I looked out the window to the fight field, where Lir's figure, grown small with distance, instructed a score of young boys wielding wooden swords. The clouds that had been building earlier in the day gathered yet more fiercely, turning the day to a chill gray.
I waited for him to speak behind me. My body tensed.When only quiet pursued me, I turned to face him.
He was looking at me without even the glint of annoyance I was used to. "I don't think you are my lap dog."
"Then what am I?"
I went to my knees in front of him. I didn't care. I only wanted to hear him speak kindly to me.
"I don't know." He put his hand to my face again.
To my alarm, I noticed tears glimmering in his eyes. "My prince?"
He swiped at his eyes and shifted in the chair. "You're lucky I don't feel well, or I'd have the hide whipped off your back for speaking to me in such a manner."
Somehow, I didn't believe him. "You don't feel well? What's wrong? Can I help?"
"No, Aeris. It’s a malady for which there is no cure. I'll be fine in a few days. I just need to sleep...."
"I'll get you some warm tea. And draw you a bath? A fresh gown?" I rang the bell for a folly to bring hot tea, and I started the water in his tub. When I came out to tell him it was ready, the look on his face alarmed me. "Are you in pain?"
He'd pressed his hands to his belly, and his face grew whiter. "A bit of the grippe, naught more. Don't fuss over me, Aeris."
"You love to be fussed over." I took his arm and helped support him to stand. "Let me help you."
He allowed me to walk him to the privy chamber, but stopped me when I made to unloose the tie at the throat of his nightrail. He closed the door in my face, and I turned from it. I caught sight of my reflectio
n in his looking glass. My face seemed older. I touched my skin. Still smooth, still soft, and yet...much had changed. My eyes had grown harder.
Daelyn emerged from the privy chamber, his hair sopping. It wet the thin material of his nightrail, turning it transparent in places. I kept my eyes away from the sight of his skin through the fabric. He walked like a stooped old man, his face creased in pain, and I took his arm to help him into bed. He shivered, though the room was warm.
"You're cold. I'll build the fire higher for you."
I tucked him into the gigantic bed and plumped the pillows for him. I put more wood on the fire and poured him some tea. He took the delicate cup from me, and sipped, but put it down with a grimace.
"Maybe later," he said in a voice as thin as the wind.
"Should I call a medicus?"
"No." He lifted the covers and gave me a coquettish grin. "Join me. The day outside makes nothing else appealing."
I had to agree with him there. The rain outside pounded against the glass in a soothing rhythm, and the heat from the fire was making me sleepy. Add to that my constant aches and pains, and the soft, large bed looked like the Land Above.
I crawled in next to him from the other side of the bed and made myself comfortable on the other set of pillows. I lay stiffly for a moment, uncertain of what else to do. I found him looking at me, amused.
"You're not used to this, I can see that. Do try to relax, Aeris. It's a bed. It's made to lie upon. Snuggle down in. Plump the pillows until they make a nest for your head." He wriggled down and tugged the blanket to his chin. "Get comfortable!"
He didn't have to tell me twice. I nestled into the wealth of pillows and covers, and gave a sigh so loud it made him laugh. I liked to hear him laugh, a real laugh, not a simper or a mocking chuckle.
He turned on his side to look at me. "Tell me a story."
He continued to surprise me. "About what, my prince?"
He put a finger to my lips. "In this bed, you must call me Daelyn."
I smiled. "A story about what, Daelyn?"
"Something to make me forget the pain. Something I've never heard before."
"I'm not very good at story telling." I'd never regretted that before now. "And I'm afraid you'll have heard any tales I can tell."
"Tell me anyway." His eyes fluttered, and a smile curved his lips. "Send me to sleep with ready-made dreams to ease me."
I thought a moment, to my cradle days that seemed so long ago, and to the stories my mother had told me then. I thought of what Godfren had said about the words of the Book, and how they'd been changed. "Do you know the story of how the world was created?"
"Aeris," Daelyn chided, still with eyes closed. "Everyone knows that story. But tell it anyway. It’s been a long time since I've heard it."
I closed my own eyes. The bed was soft, the room dim and warm. I spoke, and wove a dream for us to share.
"A long time ago, when the world was naught but a blank void, two stars collided in the sky and lit the darkness with their sparks. The pieces of them mingled and became a man called Sinder, which means 'light.'"
"Or life," Daelyn murmured. "The old texts aren't always clear."
Or maybe they'd just been altered. "You should tell the tale. You're more learned."
"I want to hear you tell it."
I obeyed. "Sinder was as tall as seven men, and as broad. He walked the world in its darkness and lit his way with the pieces of the stars that had created him. His feet made valleys and mountains when he passed. His piss made the oceans, his breath the winds, his tears the rains."
"And why did Sinder cry, Aeris?" Daelyn sounded half asleep.
So was I. The words flowed from my tongue like dripping honey. "He cried because he was without a lover, a helpmate. He wept and the rains came and flooded the world while Sinder sat atop a mountain peak and watched everything being swept away. His stomach grew empty, and he decided to hunt some game."
"How like a man. Weeping for lack of sex, but still manages to think of his stomach."
I smiled. The pillow cradled me. The covers cuddled me. "He drew an arrow from his quiver and notched it into his bow –"
"I've always wondered," Daelyn said, "where he got the bow and arrows from? And what, exactly, was he hunting, if there was naught but darkness and oceans made from piss?"
I opened my eyes. "I don't know."
He laughed aloud and looked at me. "Haven't you ever wondered, Aeris? Why we in Alyria base our entire faith on a story that doesn't even make sense?"
"The priests say –"
"Priests." He made a rude noise with his tongue. "What do they know, aside from how to tithe other men's earnings?"
I wasn't very religious, myself. I'd never even gone to the temple to be consecrated, which suited my uncle, as he didn't have to pay, and me as well, since I didn't have to get naked in front of strangers and be dunked in oil. I rolled onto my side and looked into Daelyn's eyes.
"Would you like a different story?"
He shook his head. "No, this one is fascinating."
His grin told me he didn't believe it, but I continued anyway. "Sinder notched his arrow and shot it, then followed its path. It took him to a forest –"
"Amazingly uncovered by the flood of tears." Daelyn snorted.
"Amazingly uncovered, yes. And in the forest, Sinder saw the form of a woman."
"Ah. Our Sinder was a pervert."
I paused. "The stories say Sinder wasn't wrong in what he did, because it wasn't wrong when he did it."
"But it became wrong later. It's wrong now." Daelyn frowned. "Go on."
"Sinder, so enamored of the creature in front of him, took the woman in his arms and made love to her. But she was not the same as Sinder, who had been born of the stars. She took his embrace and made him love her, but she was false and gave herself to another as soon as Sinder's back was turned."
"Who was there for her to be false with?" He demanded. "Sinder entered the void!"
"I'm not a scholar, Daelyn." I'd always regretted my lack of learning, but it had never seemed important until now.
"The texts say Sinder and his female love – whose name was Kedalya, had children together."
"And their children filled the world."
"But some texts clarify Kedalya's sin, Aeris. They say she betrayed Sinder with his own son, the flesh of their flesh and blood of their blood. The texts say she fucked her own son and brought the curse of women down upon the earth."
"Do you believe that?"
He sighed and shifted beneath the blankets. "I don't know that I believe any of it. A man, created from the stars? A woman in the forest? A mother fucking her child doesn't sound any more fantastic than that."
"The priests would have us believe the tales are true." And Lord Rosten, I thought.
"The scholars would say they are allegories to help us understand things we couldn't otherwise wrap our minds around."
I tucked my hand beneath my cheek on the pillow. "And you?"
"I'm no priest. And I'm the worst sort of scholar. A library full of texts and I only read the ones that have naughty bits in them."
"At least you're honest."
He bit at his lip and looked up at the ceiling. "Honesty is....relative, Aeris."
The mood had gone a little tense, which I didn't want, so I left behind the tale of Sinder and his arrow, and began another story. "Have you heard the one about Coalbucket?"
"The fetchencarry who became a prince?" Daelyn raised his brow at me. "Are you trying to tell me something?"
"No, my prince. It's but a tale. I thought you might like to hear it."
"Tell me," Daelyn said with a laugh. "And maybe it will come true."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Before I could begin, the door opened and Lir entered carrying a large jug. "What's this?"
Daelyn rolled to see his friend. "Lir! Come, join the party!"
Lir pulled a sour face. "You want me to get into that bed with the two of you?"
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Daelyn beckoned. "It will be merry, Lir. You know you want to."
Lir's eyes met mine. I looked away, not wanting him to see any sort of reaction on my face. I wasn't quite sure what my own reaction was.
With a grumble that sounded forced, Lir handed Daelyn the jug, stripped off his coat and trousers and slipped beneath the covers on Daelyn's other side. The mattress shook with his movements, but even when Daelyn moved closer to me to allow room for Lir, the massive bed had plenty of space. Daelyn uncorked the jug and sniffed it.