“You wouldn’t know unless you tried,” he said neutrally. “If you had an Heiress, your line would be secured.”
“Can’t I name one?”
“Yes, you can name someone who is not born of your body,” Menders answered. “This has never held up historically, however – and it would be more reason for Glorantha’s father to get rid of you, depose the Heiress you name, mostly likely by killing her, and then put Glorantha on the Throne so he could rule in her name. You know the rest.”
“I can abdicate,” Katrin challenged him, going mulish.
“Yes, you can. You would still be a target and the country would be handed over to Glorantha’s father. Those are your options, Katrin.”
He looked down at the open dossier on the table in front of him, desperate to control his temper.
Katrin had tried, he would give her that much. She had truly tried to take up the reins of governing.
She discovered, to her own and Menders’ dismay, that the country had long since slipped completely out of the control of the Queen, between Katrin’s grandmother’s long final illness, the weak reign of her mother and Aidelia’s short time on the throne. The Council ruled and they considered the Queen a figurehead, someone to sign the documents they drew up.
When Katrin attended her first Council meeting, the Council members greeted her cooly, then completely ignored her. She asked for explanations a few times, tried to interject some comments and met with a stone wall of indifference. The members of her Council had no need of her and no interest in her opinions. They made this abundantly clear. It was even suggested that she not trouble with the meetings at all.
Worse, Menders found both the Council and upper Palace staff approached him, rather than Katrin, on official business, cutting her out of the equation with an attitude of “we men can deal with this and not bother the little Queen about such things”. Despite Menders’ insistence that they deal directly with Katrin, he met the same stone wall. The Queen was not a player at Court, had not been for decades and was not going to be again if the Council or staff had anything to do about it.
Menders had expected this to anger Katrin, with the usual result of her getting results through definitive action. Instead, it seemed to drive her into herself. She was deeply traumatized by the way she had come to the Throne and riddled with guilt over Aidelia’s death and those of Aidelia’s courtiers. Katrin didn’t want to be Queen and she was dealing with the situation through withdrawal and inertia.
Menders realized his presence was intensifying the problem. So long as the Council and staff saw him as the dominant member of Katrin’s household, they would never accept her authority. He would have to adopt a different bearing and appearance, for a number of reasons. He must appear harmless and innocuous so he could undertake the covert work necessary to keep Katrin safe.
He had, after some thought and discussion with Kaymar and a few of the Men, cut off his long hair and cropped it close, shaved his beard and talked Borsen into making him several suits designed to make him look round shouldered, thin and twenty years older.
Borsen made no secret about being angry as hells over the project, but delivered what Menders asked for. Like all his work, it was very good. Menders didn’t recognize himself in the dry, fussy, thin old clerk in an old-fashioned, high collared suit looking back at him from the mirror. A sagging of the spine and knees, a slackening of the upper back as well as a daily powdering of his hair completed the illusion that the Queen’s Royal Advisor was a doddery old retainer who trotted after her like an elderly lapdog. In fact, the rumor went around that Katrin’s childhood guardian had left the Court in disgust and been replaced with an older relative.
Menders didn’t like his new appearance, to say the least. He hated the restriction of the tight padded jacket. But short of openly becoming the power behind the Throne with Katrin seen as nothing more than a puppet of her minder, he had little choice, other than leaving Katrin on her own. Considering her present state of mind, that would be a disaster.
Poor Eiren had been horribly rattled by the alteration in his appearance, though he’d warned her beforehand and explained all the reasons for it. Hair and beards could be grown back. It was a temporary measure to deflect attention to Katrin, where it belonged.
Pre-occupied with her mother’s illness and the care of her father’s household, Eiren hid her dismay over Menders’ transformation as best she could and put a good face on it. Everyone was putting a good face on the miserable situation – except for Katrin.
The silence around the table was growing very heavy. Menders looked up to see that all the men seated there were glowering in Katrin’s direction, while she was glowering at him.
“Those are your options,” he said again with emphasis.
“I don’t care for any of them. There must be another way,” Katrin said.
“I can come up with nothing else,” Menders said, meeting her eyes.
“You’ll have to. These options are not acceptable. I am not going to have anyone else killed.” She was dug in now, and would continue with the equivalent of yelling “isn’t” every time he said “is”. Further conversation would be pointless.
Something in Menders gave way. He stood abruptly.
“Of course there are other options!” he shouted. “You can go up on the damned Tower and jump off – there’s one! Leave in the night and disappear, there’s another! Go down and work as a prostitute on the docks, there’s another! There are endless options, of course, all of them unacceptable. I’ve given you what I think would work.
“You want me to do the impossible, Katrin, which is to turn back the clock. If I could, I would, at least to the point when you had a chance to work through this in a reasonable way. When your sister poisoned your mother, I told you the best choice would be to eliminate her and then work out a way to abdicate without turning this country and the Thrun into a bloodbath! You chose to do then what you’re doing now. You’re refusing to take any sort of action and waiting for me to do something. Well, I am not the damned Queen, you are! I can’t do what is necessary, only you can!
“Nobody in this country gives a damn who the Queen is, except the people in this room. Only you can make people care that you’re Queen. You are not going to do that if you sit around being a spoiled child who didn’t get the biggest piece of cake while we go around and around the same damned argument we’ve been having for months!”
Katrin was on her feet too, glaring at him.
“I didn’t want this!” she cried. “I never wanted it! I’ve had my entire life taken away from me and I want it back!”
The silence after her words was crushing.
“I had my life taken away from me too, twenty-four years ago,” Menders said into the stillness following her outburst. “Everything I worked for, everything I wanted, my chance to have a life of my own was taken away. I thought it was the end of my world – but I took what I was given and I made another life out of it. It took accepting the pain and disappointment and doing what needed to be done. It is pointless going on like this.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Katrin with her mouth hanging open and tears welling into her eyes.
One by one, the men around the table stood and filed out. Only Hemmett remained where he was, arms crossed, looking at her. When the room was empty, he spoke.
“I was there, you know. I’m the only person here who was there,” he said coldly. “A little boy can go places most people don’t think to. I saw what Menders went through those first years at The Shadows, when it was a big, cold, dirty, empty house where the loudest sound was the big clock ticking. There was a place on the back stairway where he would go sometimes when he’d been chopping wood for hours. He would sit there in the dark, where no-one could see or hear him. Sometimes he would cry - not because he didn’t get his own way but because he was bone tired and frustrated and lonely and had nothing in front of him but more tiredness and frustration and loneliness.
“After he’d sit a while, he would always get up, go upstairs to the nursery and pick you up. I could see that he felt better and stronger after he did. Even though he didn’t want you when they gave you to him, he loved you. He was so in love with you. He was six years younger than I am now, commanded to be a nursemaid for the rest of his youth and he was still able to love the child whose care took his life away from him.”
Hemmett stood.
“He’s been what I’ve wanted to be, my entire life,” he continued. “He’s strong and he’s good. Yes, he has his failings. He protected you too much. He can’t read the future or do any of the other impossible things you seem to want him to do. He’s just a man, not a god – but he’s the greatest man I know. If you can’t see that and appreciate every moment he’s devoted to you at his own expense, then you should be ashamed, Willow.
“Now, I’m going to go down and pretend to guard this huge Palace where nobody ever comes. I’ll do my job because I’ve sworn to do it. I learned how to persevere during those years at The Shadows, even when my only outlook is tiredness, frustration and loneliness. I learned that from our father. Obviously, in spite of you being the one of us who was so smart and who learned so quickly, you didn’t learn that.”
Hemmett walked from the room, his head held high.
Katrin looked after him for a moment, then wiped her eyes with her hand and gathered up the dossiers the men had left behind. It wouldn’t do to leave them out for anyone to find.
***
“Reassign me, Menders.”
Menders sighed and sat back in his chair, looking up at Kaymar.
“I understand why you want to go,” he began.
“I’m not going to stay,” Kaymar interrupted. “I don’t want to leave off working with you but I am absolutely useless here. I’m Katrin’s official escort and bodyguard, but she never goes anywhere. Sixteen feet of stone wall is bodyguard enough. If she ever does decide to so much as go down the street to Borsen’s, she has more than enough protection from the Palace Guard and Menders’ Men. Now, I’m asking you to reassign me where I can do something other than standing around being useless, or I’ll have to leave. I can’t stand to watch what is happening, Menders. Let me do something useful.”
Menders sat quietly for a moment, closing his eyes.
“I’m going to need a great deal of information,” he finally said. “I can definitely use you to get it for me – both you and Ifor, so you won’t be separated. I’d be very interested in expansion of our network in Surytam, building on what Willem has done so far.”
“Thank you.” Kaymar went to the door, then turned back.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No need to apologize, cousin,” Menders answered, his voice soft and tired.
***
“Menders?”
A sigh. “Yes, Katrin?”
She hesitated. Menders was sitting at his desk in his Palace office, his chair turned so he could look out the window. It was the first time she could remember him not sounding pleased that she was there.
He swivelled the chair around and looked at her over his glasses.
“What is it, my dear?” he asked, his voice more kind.
“I… I wanted to apologize for what happened today,” she said.
“Thank you,” Menders answered. Katrin sat tentatively in the chair opposite him.
“I was thinking. Maybe I would be able to get somewhere with the Council if I wore the formal gown,” she ventured. “When you changed the way you look, it worked. Maybe they don’t take me seriously because I haven’t been wearing the proper clothing.”
“It’s a thought,” Menders said after a moment. “Unfortunately, people accept what they see and the formal gown is what the Queen is expected to wear.”
“Can it be – cleaned?” Katrin ventured. “I can’t stand to think of putting it on after Aidelia or my mother.”
“I’m sure it can be arranged,” Menders answered. “But Katrin, just wearing a dress is not going to change things. It’s going to take bearing and attitude and determination. It’s very hard to change things that have become entrenched. Mordania has not had an effective Queen in decades. Nothing is going to change overnight.”
Katrin nodded. Then she shuddered.
“What about the teeth?” she asked. Menders grimaced.
“I would hope that wouldn’t be necessary,” he said. “You want to get their attention, but the dress should do that. In time, once you’ve gained authority, you could probably stop wearing the dress.”
“I’d like to give it a try,” Katrin said.
“I’ll arrange to have the dress cleaned very thoroughly,” Menders said. “Now, tomorrow I’m going to The Shadows. It’s been three weeks.”
“Oh,” Katrin said in a small voice, feeling a cold shudder go over her. “How long will you stay?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow night. I’ve never left you overnight, Katrin,” Menders said, sounding surprised. “You can come along with me, if you’d like – then we could stay for a few days. I’m sure Grandmother would be glad to see you. There won’t be many more opportunities as time goes on.”
“I’ll think about it,” Katrin said, feeling panic rising in her throat. She stood up. “I’ll think about it.” She could hear her voice rising in panic.
“What is it?” Menders asked, rising as well. He looked concerned.
“Just – I’m just feeling jumpy,” Katrin said, trying to smile. “I think I’m going to go rest for a while.”
“Yes, it’s been a difficult day,” Menders said, watching her closely but managing to smile back. “I’ll look in on you later.”
Katrin hurried toward her room in their suite. She stopped in the lounge and poured herself a glass of wine, which she drank quickly. She followed it with another glass. She didn’t care much for wine, but it made the rapid fluttering of her heart stop.
***
Katrin woke early the next morning, feeling energy she hadn’t felt in months.
I’ll get up and get dressed and go with Menders to The Shadows, she thought, turning over in bed and looking at the window. The sky was dark of course. It was winter, though the days were longer now that Winterfest was past.
She could hear Menders moving around in the suite, and caught a whiff of hot cloth. Apparently, he’d resorted to ironing a shirt for himself again. The Palace staff was so slack! She would have to do something about that, give orders that they start to do their jobs properly or be dismissed. It was ridiculous for the Royal Advisor to be ironing his own shirt before dawn! She’d give the orders as soon as they got back from The Shadows.
She sat up against the pillows and began to think about what to wear. She would just get up now and go to the wardrobe and see what to wear. It would need to be something warm, of course. It would be very cold out on the water and on the way to the boat. Too bad they would be going so early, because they might have stopped at Borsen’s. She still hadn’t gotten around to going there, though he came up the street three times a week to see her. She’d just been so tired…
She would just get up now and check the wardrobe for something to wear. It wouldn’t be hard, just a few steps across the room and choosing an outfit. She had dozens though and it would take some time to get dressed, so she’d better get moving. Just a few steps across the room but how would she ever decide on what to wear? She would just need to get out of bed, and then it would be a few steps…
She was beginning to feel tired. Well, it was very early in the morning and it was so cold out. She hadn’t really planned on going and it would take such a while to get dressed and have breakfast, and Menders was probably ready to go. She wouldn’t hold him up this time. She’d sleep a little more and then she’d deal with the staff for being so slack – but without Menders there, who would send for them? She’d have to wait until he got back, so there wasn’t much point in getting up right now. A little more sleep would do it. She’d feel more lively then.<
br />
Katrin snuggled down in the bed and was asleep again before Menders looked in to see if she was coming with him. He sighed and went on by himself.
***
“Yes, it’s been troubling me for some time,” Franz said, looking across his desk at The Shadows at Menders. “I’m fairly sure it’s melancholia. Unfortunately, that is something we don’t know much about. We don’t know what causes it or how to treat it. There are some herbs that work in mild cases, and believe me, I’ve dosed Katrin with those already with no effect. It’s a derangement of the mind, but it affects the whole body. In some people, it can be set off by a particular event, as it has been in Katrin. In other people, it seems to start for no reason at all.”
“I know killing Aidelia was contrary to her entire moral code…” Menders began.
“It began before that,’ Franz broke in. “After the Suspension Ritual and during her illness. It was mild then and I hoped it would disappear with returning health. To a degree it did, though she never recovered entirely.”
“That was to be expected,” Menders said. “Getting over injuries and an infection like that can take years. I didn’t feel entirely myself for a couple of years after the infection I had when we first came to The Shadows.”
“That’s correct. Given time and support, Katrin should have made a full recovery, but the trauma of being arrested and held by Aidelia, and then killing Aidelia has triggered a major melancholia.”
“What do we do?” Menders asked.
“Change of scene is recommended. Sometimes it works,” Franz said. “I’ve tried every medicine I know of. I did it without her knowing, so she wouldn’t try to please me and say that she felt better. You know she does that, of course.”
Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series Page 64