‘Yes, he laughed,’ Lazuel said, nodding. ‘I have never heard him so informal. Then, the worst thing happened.’
‘What?’
Lazuel looked to left and right, then leaned closer towards me. ‘The king never took his pleasure! After the boy’s clever tales, Alofel must have decided it was time to sample the goods. Before a single finger met flesh, Akaten began to weep and lament, having no doubt drunk too much wine and coughed up too many memories. It was incredible. He thanked Alofel for his courtesy - the impudence of it! - and then begged to be killed. He does not want to live now the Khan is dead, and cannot bear the thought of another man touching him. As you can imagine, Alofel was perturbed by this behaviour. Here comes the order for the guards now, I thought, but again, no. At this point, I felt I had no choice but to peer through the curtains. Alofel took the boy in his arms and told him not to be afraid - the only time he would take him to the royal bed was if Akaten himself desired it. Can you imagine that?’
I couldn’t. ‘What else happened?’ My mouth was so dry I could barely speak. I wanted to ask whether my name was mentioned, but feared Lazuel making his own deductions.
‘Nothing much. Alofel spoke about life, honour and duty, and how we must all learn to live with grief. Akaten asked for permission to visit the temple, in order to perform the rites of mourning, and it was granted. He returned in the evening, and last night slept alone in the room that Alofel has provided for him. There is a rumour that rich clothes and jewellery were sent to this room.’
I could no longer hide my shock and dismay. ‘What you have told me is incredible. I don’t know what to say.’
‘Darien, it is all too bizarre. I have never heard anyone, even of high rank, behave so informally with the king. Displays of emotion, weeping and laughing: the antics of an unmannered brute! But the strange thing is, Alofel seemed to like it.’
I shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Perhaps he was amused by the novelty of the situation.’
Lazuel nodded. ‘This is possible, although I’d be a liar if I said I agreed with you.’ He looked at me with sympathy. ‘I fear there will be disruption. What will you do?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know... It seems there is little I can do.’ In comparison to Akaten, who could make Alofel laugh and relax, I felt insubstantial and empty. The thought of resorting to poison against such an enemy was dangerous. Alofel might be more inclined to investigate should something happen to someone who had attracted his attention so much.
Lazuel touched my arm. ‘You can be sure the king’s staff support you. We don’t want foreigners mucking up our routines.’
I spent the remainder of the day in a delirium of nervous anxiety, comforted by Porfarryah, who was equally alarmed by what had happened. In the evening, when the king’s squire came softly to request my presence in the royal chambers, I was convinced it was so that Alofel could tell me he was sending me away. Hastily, I brushed out my hair and applied pale powder to my hectic cheeks. Still, my mirror told me I looked far from my best.
The man who greeted me in Alofel’s quarters was a stranger, someone who looked like the king, but whose character was completely different. He was animated, his movements sudden. His eyes were alight. ‘Darien,’ he said. ‘I need to talk to you.’
I could barely speak, and bowed stiffly. Alofel seemed oblivious of my appearance.
‘Sit down,’ he said.
I perched on the edge of a brocaded chair and knotted my hands in my lap to disguise the fact that they were shaking. Alofel stood staring down at me, an expression of contemplation on his face. I did not want him to look at me, sure he was making certain comparisons and finding me wanting.
‘Darien, answer a question for me,’ he said. ‘I would like to know whether you are happy.’
I looked up at him in surprise. ‘I beg your pardon, my lord? Happy? About what?’
‘I want to know whether you are happy in your position here at court as my favourite.’
I blushed. ‘Yes, of course.’ The question was absurd.
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think you quite understand me. What I mean is, if you had the choice, would you be here at all? You were sent here from your parents’ estate and have been forced to give up all title to your inheritance. You did not come here of your own free will.’
‘My lord, I am honoured to serve you. Whatever else my life might once have held is no longer relevant to me.’ I was terrified, convinced Akaten had said something to him about me. ‘And if anyone claims otherwise, they lie!’ Normally, such a forward remark would earn severe discipline, but Alofel ignored the tone of my outburst.
‘I do not question your loyalty, Darien, but I have been thinking. I never wooed you. I simply took you. You did not come to my bed in desire but in subjection. Is it right for me to keep you here, perhaps against your will, to use your body as I please?’
‘You are the king!’ I whispered, horrified. ‘It is your right to do as you please.’ Taking advantage of his strange mood, I asked a direct, if timidly-voiced, question. ‘My lord, is it that you no longer want me here?’
He reached to touch my face. ‘I will always want you here, Darien. Although I have never spoken of it, you have soothed me when I’ve been distressed a thousand times. I have never wanted any boy here regularly in my chambers but you...’
Until now, I appended silently. I looked into his eyes and formed this thought within them. Unable to hold my gaze, he turned away. I did not like what had happened to him. It seemed as if a peculiar disease had taken hold of his mind, and I hoped sincerely he’d not behaved this way with anyone but me. I could only speak frankly. ‘It seems something has come to this court that is causing a strange disturbance. I know my traditional place, and there is no question of me resenting it. My lord, I am distressed that you do not seem to be yourself. Is there anything I can do to help?’
He turned and looked at me again, his eyes once more filled with a weird inner light. ‘I feel as if the last fifteen years have fallen from my body, as if a mask of iron has fallen from my eyes. This should not distress you, Darien. Please don’t worry about it.’ His gaze became distant. ‘Today, I smelled the lost perfumes of childhood summers in the air. In the garden, it was as if all the flowers and the trees had become more colourful and vibrant. Sounds assailed my ears from every side like music; the call of birds, the mutter of servants, the hiss of wind in the leaves...’
Oh, Sweet Challis, I thought. He is in love.
Alofel adopted a posture of deep thought, his right hand cupping his jaw. After a while, he said, ‘I can guess what you are thinking. That Akaten is responsible for the way I feel. And you are right!’
I swallowed nervously, waiting for the axe to fall.
Alofel began pacing up and down. ‘I don’t want you to feel concerned for your position. It is important to me that you befriend, Akaten.’
‘What?’ I couldn’t help the exclamation. Alofel had truly lost his senses. Where was the calm, contained man of only a couple of days before? How could one person affect him so much? It was outrageous.
‘I am still concerned for his state of mind, and have discussed it with my physicians. We think it expedient that Akaten is kept euphoric until such time as the sharpest edge of his grief has become blunt. There is a risk he might try to take his life.’
Good, I thought. ‘My lord, what do you think I can do to help this situation? Such excesses of emotion are alien to me.’
The comment was unwise, and I noticed Alofel’s wry glance when I’d uttered it. ‘I can understand that Akaten’s ways must seem uncouth to you, but if you spent some time in his company, I have no doubt you would warm to him. He spoke highly of the way you comforted him on his first night here.’
I knew for a fact that Alofel’s court would not approve of these developments. He was charging blindly towards circumstances of embarrassment and humiliation. Bewitched by beauty! How could he be so weak? I felt that all I could do was comply with his wi
shes for the time being, in the hope of somehow ameliorating the situation. ‘I will of course obey your command, my lord.’
‘It is not a command, but a request,’ Alofel answered, and when he looked at me, I sensed he was wondering whether, if ever anything should happen to him, I would want only to die as well. The answer of course was no, but I hoped he didn’t realise that.
As I walked back to my rooms, I considered how confused the king must be feeling. He had enjoyed Akaten’s romantic tales of Harakhte, and wanted me to be like a Mewtish boy, a lover who could not bear the thought of life without him. Legends spoke of how favourites took their life upon the battle-field, to die beside their fallen kings, but they were legends that came from other lands, not ours. Did Alofel believe that if I were Akaten’s friend, his attitude towards his king would rub off on me? Or was it just that he trusted me to care for his new possession, and would keep it safe until he felt the time was right to take what he so sorely wanted?
The following day, reluctantly obeying Alofel’s injunction, I went to visit Akaten in his rooms. My feelings too were utterly confused. I was filled with excitement at the prospect of seeing him, but also harboured feelings of outrage and envy.
I found him out on the terrace, playing with a puppy - perhaps another gift. He was sitting on the marble tiles, his long legs sprawled out, his hair plaited loosely down his back. He looked up when his attendant announced my arrival, and my heart stilled for a moment. I felt as if I’d known him for many years. We had held each other intimately. I wanted to go to him, take him in my arms, begin our conversation with a kiss. But at the same time, my mind told my heart not to be foolish. This foreign creature was not the one who had come to me in the Shrine of Bestowing. My addled brain had provided that image.
‘Hello again,’ he said. His voice was slightly slurred, and I could see that the pupils of his eyes were large. His senses, clearly, were not his own. ‘You look more like the Servant of Death than before.’
I walked towards him, maintaining an outward semblance of dignity. ‘King Alofel wants us to be friends.’ He must have heard the coldness in my voice.
For a moment, he ignored me, dragging his hair across the marble to make the puppy frolic, laughing softly like a hiccuping lunatic. Then, he looked up again. ‘So, here you are, an obedient slave.’ He sounded drunk, and even threw out his arms. ‘Would you care for refreshment? The people here bring me anything I ask for.’
I folded my arms and sighed through my nose. He was smiling at me. I did not like the thought that he might be aware of my discomfort and disapproval. Something snapped inside me. ‘I don’t like what you are doing, Khan’s boy. You think you can cause trouble here in Cos. Is this your revenge for your master’s death? You might be able to fool Alofel, but I can see through you. Don’t believe that everyone here is bewitched by you. I will fight you, every inch of the way.’
‘Fight me,’ he echoed, and put his head on one side, then laughed and put up his fists before his face. ‘Are you suggesting physical combat?’
I would not let him unnerve me. ‘If necessary.’
He grinned, as if my threats meant nothing to him, then got unsteadily to his feet. He walked in a zig-zag to the balustrade with the puppy cavorting round his ankles, and there leaned down on the stone, staring out towards the misty bulk of Phasmagore.
I stood awkwardly for a few moments, then went to stand beside him. Gazing upon the temple made me feel hot and anxious, but I felt compelled to do so.
‘We have wonders in Mewt too,’ Akaten said, and now his voice had become more steady, ‘but the temple of Challis here is perhaps more splendid.’
I managed to expel a choked laugh. ‘Really! I thought you believed everything Cossic to be inferior to anything Mewtish.’
He glanced at me sideways. ‘No, I mean it. The temple is wondrous. I went there yesterday, and it left me... breathless.’
I held his gaze for a moment, and felt the heat come to my face. Once again, I was unsure whether the stranger in the shrine had really been him or not. If it had been, this cool posturing now was senseless, but if not, I risked making a complete fool of myself.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked me. ‘Your deathly face has become almost alive, or is that a blush?’
‘I thought I saw you in the temple yesterday,’ I said.
He shrugged, yawned and dragged his hands over his face. ‘Perhaps you did, but it is a massive place, so it would have been a remarkable coincidence if we’d bumped into one another there.’
Despite the narcotics in his body, he was too composed to have been my ephemeral lover. If we’d truly shared that experience, there was no way he could be so dispassionate now, but I had to be convinced. ‘Are you sure we did not meet at the temple?’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t remember. Everything’s so… muddled. I wanted only the solace of the goddess and to make my farewells to my love.’
‘Please try to remember.’ I was aghast at myself for my persistence.
Akaten frowned. ‘Why are you so concerned about it? Were you doing something there that you shouldn’t?’
Was he laughing at me? I wished I could be certain about him, one way or the other. ‘I never do anything I shouldn’t,’ I said lightly. ‘I was mistaken about you. It’s of no consequence.’
We went to sit upon cushions, and his attendants brought us wine and sweet-meats. I could not force food down my throat, but sipped the wine cautiously. All the time, he watched me, blinking. Was that amusement in his clouded eyes? ‘You no longer seem grieved,’ I said, hoping to puncture his good humour. I watched with satisfaction as his face dropped.
‘I will always grieve,’ he answered. ‘It is beyond your comprehension.’
I almost pitied him. He looked utterly bewildered, his mind fogged by the philtres he’d been given. ‘You are still young,’ I remarked, biting into a sickly sweet. ‘And the human spirit can be remarkably elastic.’
He shrugged, still frowning. ‘Harakhte once said to me that life is a dynamic process and constantly throws new challenges into our path. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.’ He shook his head, then looked at me. ‘Must I live? Is that what he would have wanted?’
‘You’ll live,’ I said. ‘It is our instinct to survive.’
‘But here? In Cos?’
I sighed. ‘You have no choice.’
He drank some wine. ‘No.’
So began my care-taking of the Khan’s boy. During the first weeks, the king did not see Akaten once, but often asked me of his progress. I kept my answers vague; enough to satisfy without giving too much information. Alofel seemed pleased with that. He trusted me.
I knew I would have to be careful and keep a check on both my jealousy and my wayward desire. I was still unsure of what Alofel was planning. The implications of Akaten’s presence in the palace were at best unsettling. My feelings were torn.
Akaten was very ill, I could see that. At times, demented with grief, he would throw himself against my unyielding body to pour out his misery. Only the most inhuman creature could resist such pathetic, childish appeals for comfort. I put my arms about him as a brother, and felt nothing but pity for him.
Then there were the occasions when the herbal liquors in his blood made him almost coquettish. This was when I hated and desired him most. He would laugh uncontrollably at nothing, dance to unheard music and complain of unbearable itching in his lungs and head. To soothe him, I began to read aloud to him. At first, the sound of my voice appeared to irritate him, but then, as I kept my pitch low, he would relax and lie upon the cushions by my feet with eyes half open like a corpse.
One day, I read to Akaten a story of love. It was about an ill-favoured poet who desired a blind boy. The story was hackneyed and it was no surprise that the boy found the poet’s words beautiful and did not care he had a warty face. However, as I read, I felt emotion rise within me. “As I recited my ode to him, his white eyes stared at the clouds. I knew he co
uld not see me, would never see me. If I was silent, I might not exist…” It seemed too pertinent, and I stopped reading.
At my feet, Akaten opened his eyes. ‘Don’t stop. Your voice is soothing.’
I did not want him to look at me. ‘It’s a vapid tale.’ I threw the book onto the floor. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll bring something better.’
Akaten looked at his hands, which were laced on his stomach. Gazing at him, I realised he seemed more composed, less confused than he had been. ‘I liked the story,’ he said.
‘You can’t mean that!’ I forced a laugh. ‘How are you feeling today?’
He tilted back his head on the cushions and looked at me. ‘Things seem more real today. I think the palace torturers have decreased my dose of poison.’
‘And how do you feel about that?’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t know. I don’t really feel anything. It’s odd.’
‘Do you still want to die?’
He was silent for a moment, and my heart seemed to pause, waiting for the answer.
‘Darien, I realise now that you spoke sense to me that first night, when you pulled me off the window-sill. I must thank you for it. If you hadn’t come to me, I might well be dead now and, you are right, Harakhte would not have wanted that. He was never selfish or cruel.’
‘I had no choice but to come,’ I said coldly.
‘I know that,’ he replied. ‘But you could have let me fall.’ He squirmed round to lie on his belly, chin resting in his hands. ‘I expect you sometimes wish you had.’
I looked back at him. His sensitivity unsettled me. ‘I am the king’s servant and he wishes you to be well again. My feelings are irrelevant.’
Akaten reached out and touched one of my feet. ‘Darien, that is not true. I dare to think that once you hated me, but now you have come to like me a little. I have never wished you ill. I am here by an accident of fate.’
I wanted to reach out and touch his face, but resisted. A voice in my mind nagged that I must still be cautious. In his place, I would want to make a friend of the king’s favourite, but only as a safety measure. ‘Fate is capricious,’ I said. ‘We both know that.’
The Thorn Boy Page 4