by Lee Abrey
This early in the season, some of the plants must be out of a greenhouse, but it all looked so natural. The entire landscape was artificial, part of a cut-down mountaintop. I mused that it had been like this for nearly three thousand years, a man-made natural landscape. Meanwhile, Azrael was in a funk.
“What if I’m gay?” he said, and I shrugged.
“Do you think you’re gay?” I said, and he shrugged back at me.
“I don’t know,” he said, “I liked that. Correction, I loved it.”
“Nothing wrong with liking men. Or even loving them. Do you like women?” I said. He bit at his lower lip.
“Not so far,” he said, “well, I liked some but none that have wanted to, to let me get their knickers off. Being Crown Prince I get offers, but it’s because they think I’ll marry young. They want the position, not me. Puts me off.” I nodded.
“And you’re pretty,” I said, smiling, “don’t forget pretty.” He grimaced, blushing.
“Aye,” he said, “Fenric says the same, says that also makes it hard for them to see me inside.” I touched his shoulder a moment and we rode without talking, knees touching. I was watching a multi-coloured parrot on a bird feeder near the path when Azrael broke the silence suddenly.
“Nanny Black heard a rumour I was gay.” I frowned. “And I’ve never,” he said, “I mean, well, you were my first.” I nodded.
“It seemed that way. Though it was good,” I said quickly. “Pity we didn’t get to finish.” He turned his head and looked at me, those dark blue eyes steady. I looked back.
“Was I as good as my mother?” he said, and I felt quite sick. After a few seconds, I managed to breathe again. I looked down for a moment.
“Oh,” I said. I played with my horse’s mane then looked back at Azrael.
“You went quite pale then,” he said, “that was interesting.” My turn to grimace.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Are you?” he said. I shrugged. He looked at the sky. “We need to head back. Really, are you sorry you did her?” I looked at him while I thought about it.
“Am I sorry I had some fun with your mother? Honestly?” I said.
“Please,” he said. I held his gaze, then decided on the absolute truth.
“I’m only sorry that you know. If it upsets you. For the record, I enjoyed both of you. Very much.” He smiled.
“I had the biggest hard-on,” he said, “listening, and thinking for Zol’s sake, that’s your mother he’s doing. Pretty twisted.” Gods above, me doing his mother had turned him on? Sexually, he was weirder than I was. And I was proudly perverted.
“Aye,” I said, and shook my head, “you poor bastard. If only you’d twitched, we’d have stopped.” He smiled.
“The part of me enjoying it wouldn’t let me move. And I didn’t want the embarrassment.” He paused. “I caught Mother and Fenric together, right after Father was killed.” That nearly slipped past me, he made it sound so long ago, but I remembered his father was barely cold.
“You did?” I said.
“Well, I overheard them. She was being spanked, shouting about how bad she’d been.” I felt a quiver of desire at the very idea. “Nanny Black was with me,” said Azrael, laughing, “she started gibbering about guilt being one of the stages of grief.” He smiled. “Then she started making up the stages. Mother was making loud noises. Nanny was getting louder trying to cover it. Finally she shouted that some people should learn to shut their bloody doors, there was a squeal from upstairs and the door shut.” I laughed. He grinned. “I nearly laughed, but Nanny looked so furious I didn’t dare. Nanny says it’s also one of the stages of mourning, blaming yourself for what happened.” I blinked, unsure what he was talking about now, his father, or was it still the experience of catching his mother with one of the bodyguards?
“Aye,” I said, “doesn’t it go with guilt?” He looked thoughtful. “By the way,” I said, “who’s Nanny Black?”
“Oh,” he said, “you’ll meet her soon. Nanny was Mother’s nursemaid, then mine, and she’s still officially Royal Nanny, though now mostly she and Mother spend time together. No actual relation but like a mother to me and to my mother. She’s taking a few days off at the moment.” I wondered if he’d joined the dots.
“So,” I said, still sounding casual, “your mother’s having an affair with the commander of the bodyguards meant to guard your father?” He nodded.
“I was there when Fenric killed the assassin, and he honestly didn’t mean to, he was just saving the king. If he hadn’t clouted the man Grandpa would be dead. Before that the assassin confessed, and not under torture. He did it for love. Fenric and Mother didn’t have anything to do with it. See, the assassin, Dunleavy, was my Aunt Kristen’s lover. She’s the one who’s Queen of Joban, my father’s sister. This Dunleavy fellow wanted to make her Queen of Sendren and marry her. She’s married to Uncle Colin, King of Joban, so small problem there.”
“You don’t think she’s responsible for your father’s death?” I was fascinated. I was Sendrenese, gossip was a passion, and here I was getting it right from the horse’s, or prince’s, mouth.
“Well,” said Azrael, “all the evidence says Aunt Kristen didn’t know. Not that she’d knock back the throne. Kristen thinks they should have made her the heir instead of my father, who was a drunk, but he was eldest. Besides, Grandpa Theo doesn’t think Kristen could organise a piss-up in a brewery.” I raised my eyebrows.
“The king said that?” He laughed.
“Maybe, but that’s what Nanny says she heard Theo tell Father once, so I can’t say for sure the king said it. Nanny glamorises her stories sometimes. But what I actually saw, I know.” I nodded, appreciating the distinction. “The assassin, Dunleavy, and Grandpa were arguing during the interrogation. Grandpa lost his temper and stormed up to the man, who took his opportunity.” Azrael mimed looping chains around someone’s neck, holding tight, then he was Theo, choking, the blood vessels in his eyes bursting. Finally Fenric moving in, cracking the man’s head with a single blow from a club.
“And that was it,” said Azrael, “Dunleavy knew he was going to hang and nearly took the king with him. He was so in love with Kristen. You should have heard him talking about how beautiful she was, what a lovely person he thought her. Everyone who knows her was thinking, Kristen? Our Kristen?” We both laughed, even though I didn’t know her, then Azrael was suddenly serious again.
“Poor man,” he said, “he was mad, I think. Or in love, it makes people mad.” It was strange to be talking to someone whose family was royalty. My family had split from the titled side several generations back. We rode on in silence. “I’m a bit worried,” he said suddenly, “the kingdom needs an heir.” For a moment I paused, not sure what to say.
“Well,” I said, before going for the gutter, “so you can father an heir, if you have to, pretend you’re with me.” He laughed. I grinned. “I’m being practical, you were hard enough then.”
“You’re so practical,” he said. I shrugged. He looked earnest. “You’re not worried I might be gay?” That set me laughing, loud enough to spook my horse.
“Steady,” I said to the horse. To Azrael I said, “No, I’m not worried. I’m not worried I might be either. We both like women too. What does it matter? It’s just sex. I know you haven’t had one, but women are wonderful. I think you’ll stop worrying once you try them. Men are good but there’s no chance I’ll give up women for men.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and smiled, “I think the gods sent you.” I laughed more. Despite my temple attendance back in Lower Beech, I was an avowed atheist.
“My mother sent me, and my father. With the help of my Grandmama Daeva, and then there’s your grandpa who invited me. I’m lucky, because it suited my parents to blame me for their failing marriage and they finally took Grandmama’s advice and sent me here, where I had an invite because I’m a distant relation to a king. Luck and blood. Nothing to do with the gods.”
; “Don’t you believe in the gods?” he said, sounding surprised. I shrugged.
“What kinds of gods allow the suffering in the world?” I said, trotting out my standard atheist spiel. “What kinds of gods allow war, even demand we worship it, while pretending we should love one another?”
“Without Zol,” said Azrael, sounding pious, “we would have been overrun by the Sriamans.” I made a snorting noise.
“The Sriamans are some of the ones the gods say we’re supposed to be nice to,” I said, “and without Dragon we would have lost, you mean. Without the best soldiers ever seen in the Quadrants we wouldn’t have driven the Sriamans out of the northern kingdoms. Without Blood soldiers, descendants of Dragon, we’d not still be holding the borders.”
“Aye,” he said, smiling, and not sounding as heated as I felt, “and who taught us about Zol? Dragon did.”
“It’s a myth,” I said, “Thet didn’t make Dragon, they’re genetically engineered.” There was a short pause. “And there is no god of war,” I added. “Zol doesn’t exist.” He smiled again. Then looked serious.
“Can I still be a good king, if I’m gay?” he said, and I laughed so loudly my horse shied again.
“Aye, you can,” I said, soothing the beast, chuckling, “but you do need to stop worrying so much.”
We handed the horses to servants back at the citadel, though Azrael said usually we’d take them to the stables ourselves and walk back. At our rooms we said we’d see each other later. I was thinking by then that sex with Molly, Saraia, and now Azrael made it three people in less than about a day-and-a-half, which was excessive even by my standards. I resolved to be celibate for a while.
****
Since I was much younger I’d bathed privately. Now I went for what Bernard called a proper wash, instead of a shower in my private bathroom. I’d heard of the bathhouses in the great houses but had never been in one. One proceeded through a series of rooms, first removing clothes while one was wrapped in a comfortable robe. The clothes I took off were tagged with my name and room number while I was ushered onwards. Putting my provincial persona to good use, I let the servants tell me how things worked. It wasn’t really a persona. I couldn’t believe how little I knew about how to act, or even what went on here. Aside from basic table manners the customs were completely different.
The citadel bathhouses were sexually segregated, but not private. Big, steam-filled rooms with vaulted ceilings, they echoed with the slight squeak of the servants’ non-slip shoes, quiet conversations, and bare feet slapping on tiles. First I moved through a shower room, where all I had to do was get wet then stand to be soaped, which was an experience in itself. I was rinsed while standing on a wooden platform of slatted wood, then sat down for a shave, face only, though the barber offered to do my nether parts.
“At least let me trim you, lordship. People prefer trimmed, you know. Shows a level of self-care.” I could see his point.
“Alright,” I said, “but you’re not to shave it. I tried that once, it itched.” I was clipped then rinsed again, allowed a brief dip in a heated pool, which was stunning, one of several in a huge building with a frosted-glass roof, the light soft and the sounds muted, then moved on quickly to be dried and made ready.
I assumed I was going to dinner and never asked what I was being made ready for. I discovered later the bathhouse servants had summoned Bernard. He arrived with fresh clothes, including an armband, then whisked me off. We chatted about various things, mostly to do with what life there was like.
“Here we are, lordship,” he said, after some fifteen minutes brisk walking, and ushered me into a doorway. “You have about an hour before dinner, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
****
Chapter 11 – Royal Appointments
Guards patted me down, with that disconcertingly intimate touch, and then a servant ushered me in. My Uncle Theo, King of Sendren, stood up and came round his desk to meet me. I wasn’t expecting him at all. I was sure it was Saraia, Azrael’s mother. Naturally I didn’t show disappointment. I really was pleased to meet my uncle properly.
“Polo,” said the king, “my dear boy, come in, sit down. Let’s have a chat over here.” He led me over to a pair of comfortable chairs in front of a fire. We drank a delicious aperitif, which he said was white port with lemonade, snacked on roasted nuts dusted with spices, and talked. He gave me a blow-by-blow account of how he was nearly strangled by the assassin, which was interesting, and to my surprise, tallied with what Azrael and Fenric had told me, pretty much, only being from his viewpoint. I would have expected the king to make out he was in the right but Theo wasn’t that proud.
“Stupid of me,” he said, rubbing his bruised neck, “but the doctors say no harm done and praise Thet, my eyes should go back to normal.” We talked a bit, then the subject changed to Azrael. Theo was hoping we’d be friends.
“Young men who like women,” he said, very pointedly, “that’s what the boy needs.” I thought for a moment he was warning me off then realised he meant the opposite, that he thought I was straight, even a bit of a ladies’ man. Mother must have mentioned my habit of tumbling everything around the village that stood still long enough and the king assumed she meant women.
It showed the danger of assumptions, as Father, who fancied himself a philosopher, especially after a few ales, would say. I nodded politely and sipped my drink as the king went on,
“Rumour says Azrael’s one of those -.” The missing word was accompanied by a hand gesture, the limp wrist leaving me in no doubt over his meaning. I raised my eyebrows.
“You think Azrael might be -?” I said, and did the gesture. Theo nodded. I frowned and shook my head. “He didn’t seem so to me, Uncle Theo, though he did say he was unlucky with girls. He even mentioned he fancied a few but it’s always the women you don’t fancy who want to bed you.” It was the truth and must have shown through because Uncle Theo relaxed quite visibly.
“Well, that’s good news, Polo, don’t mind telling you. I heard a rumour he might be - you know.” Again, the word wasn’t said, though because I now understood, the gesture was left out. I nodded, trying to look solemn.
Poor Azrael, with everyone in his business like this. I wouldn’t be him for all the gold in Sendren. I thought my family were bad. The king and I talked about all kinds of things after that, and I was pleased to see we really seemed to be getting on. My own enjoyment of his company wasn’t forced. I liked my uncle very much. He had a keen mind and wasn’t one of those kings bored by politics or administrative trivia.
On his part, he seemed to enjoy my company too. If one is going to have a cousin who is king, it’s rather pleasant if they know and like you. Theo mentioned not being born to be monarch.
“You weren’t?” I said. He shook his head.
“Up until I was twenty-two I never really imagined being king, too many people between me and the throne. I was ninth in line. I had the Westwych name but no title. No money either.” He sighed. “I even married for money. Didn’t have any of my own. There was a plague, a fever epidemic. People were saying it was a bad strain with a high mortality rate, worst for a hundred years. I remember hearing the news as each of the eight before me went, all of them without immediate heirs, and thinking this can’t be happening. I had an inkling right at the beginning, when the fever started out in Peterhaven. I remember wondering, what if?” He grimaced.
“Then Rose and I got sick and nearly died too, which brought me down to earth.” I was frowning by now as this was scarily like my plans for life, the idea of marrying for coin, although I never imagined being king. Well, I imagined it and decided it wasn’t for me. I was fairly safe as there were probably a few hundred people between me and the throne, maybe more. I made a mental note that whoever I married better not be any closer in line. Theo smiled. “Though you’ll not be thinking of marriage for a while?” he said, and I shook my head.
“Not me, though being poor I understand marrying for coin.” He nodded.
/> “Aye,” he said, “Rose was beautiful so it was easy. I may have been led by desire, but I wouldn’t be the first man to fall for a woman and then discover he doesn’t like her much.” He shrugged and gestured with his glass. “Back then I seem to recall thinking I loved her.” He shook his head. “I had no idea what love was. I advise you, Polo, not to marry young. At first it wasn’t too bad. Rose was in control thanks to her having the coin in the family. Azrael’s father, Perry, Haka rest his soul, was about two. Then the fever. In a few months I was king and Rose was queen.” He shook his head at the memory.
“That must have been a shock,” I said. He nodded.
“Shock for us both. I knew precisely nothing about being king. I never paid attention to anything, not since I married Rose. I was a kept man, so no need, you see?” I nodded. I could see how it could rob a man of ambition. “When they made me king suddenly I had to pay attention to something other than the woman who owned me. She’s never forgiven me. Anyway, let me be a lesson to you, don’t marry for money and don’t marry young.” I promised I wouldn’t.
“I had a bad time being king at first,” said Theo, “I won’t let Azrael be so unprepared. Like his father, he’ll have the best education that money can buy.” I wondered if Azrael’s dreams were included.
“Will he be able to serve in the army too?” I said. Theo shook his head. “But his father did.”
“His father was never on the front lines, Polo. He worked in administration, safely away from the Sriamans. Sendren paid a lot of golds to ensure he was never at risk.” I nodded. The king sighed. “Azrael won’t be happy with that. He wants to be a real soldier.” I sighed too.
“Aye,” I said, “he does. He can’t be allowed?”
“Afraid not,” said Uncle Theo. “Don’t like to destroy his dreams, but it’s how it is. However, if it’s at all possible he’ll be going to the Military Guild over in Malion. It’s a good grounding for a young man, though the bodyguards are already whining about logistical nightmares, and the family want him to breed before he goes.”