Song of Edmon

by Adam Burch

  “They don’t dance in Meridian,” I whisper back. “This is unfamiliar. That’s all.” She looks at me skeptically. “I haven’t forgotten the day of my brother’s christening or what he did to my mother,” I whisper solemnly. My trust has not been gained. The islanders don’t know what kind of danger they are in from the military might of the Pantheon. My father could wipe us out if he wanted. We’d fight back to lose just the same.

  I need to make sure this pact is real.

  I raise my hands, signaling for the music to cease. I stand center before where my father is seated. I grab a glass filled with ale that the islanders have fermented from kelp and toast. “To our honored guests from House Wusong-Leontes, welcome.”

  The crowd claps in response.

  Edric stands and holds his own goblet out. “And to my son, Edmon, Lord of the Isle of Bone.” He pauses as the crowd waits on his next words. If there’s condescension in his tone, I don’t hear it. “I am proud of you, my son.”

  I’m stunned. This is the last thing I expect. Edric Leontes has forever been a shadow in my life casting fear and doubt. Tyrant and fiend. Monster. Those are the names I think to describe him. He’s a ruthless killer who has sought his own advancement at the expense of those around him, including his own family. Even so, to hear him say he is proud of me touches something within I didn’t even know was there. I’ve longed to hear him say those words, in spite of all he has done. I’m not sure I ever realized it until this moment.

  “Thank you, Father,” I respond. “With your blessing, there is another I must toast.” The crowd hushes as I stand in the center of the circle. I take Nadia’s hand in mine and kneel before her. “Nadia, my love, you are my heart. You are my song. With the eyes of witnesses before us, from the Island of Bone and the Pantheon of Tao, will you make me your husband for all time?”

  She brings a hand to her mouth, and though we’ve been together for years, though we have a child to be born, I see the tears well in her eyes. She nods yes. I stand and pull her into my embrace. I whisper, “I will always love you, Nadia.”

  I glance at my father. His smile fades for a split second and then returns. I have sealed our agreement before all present. It may not be what he originally intended, but it is the bargain we have made. I nod, and he returns the gesture.

  The revelry continues into the evening. Musicians play. Dancers dance. We eat and drink. Nadia does not leave my side. I’m in bliss.

  “Edmon,” she says, pulling me from the dizziness of feeling like everything in my life is on the perfect path.

  “What?” I ask, carefree, absent.

  “You aren’t here,” she muses. “Where are you?”

  “Oh.” I smile. “I was thinking that for the first time in my life, I’m happy. That’s all.”

  “No, we are happy,” she corrects. She places my hand on her belly. We kiss. Then she pulls back for a moment. “Can you trust him?”

  “I trust him to maintain his own best interests. No more, no less. Our union gives him leverage to ply Old Wusong to allow the princess to marry my brother. That will buy us time. Beyond that, we will have to see.”

  “Then what?”

  “One step at a time, my love.”

  “Edmon.” A hand touches my shoulder. Edgaard’s square face and pale eyes loom over me. “Our father would like to have words with you.” Edgaard stands a hair taller than me, though he is lanky, not bearing the full muscle of adulthood yet. I gesture for him to lead the way.

  I jest to Nadia, “Perhaps there will be more surprises from Edric the Compassionate?”

  She intertwines her arm in mine and whispers, “He’s still dangerous, Edmon. Be careful.”

  “I know better than most, wife,” I reply, trying out the word. She rolls her eyes at me.

  We follow Edgaard to the table. My father stands, his ice-blue eyes locking onto mine.

  “You would like to speak with me?” I ask.

  “Not here.” His eyes flick to Nadia. “I would speak with you. Alone.”

  I take Nadia’s hand in mine. “Anything you can say to me can be said to her as well.” Anger flares in his eyes at my defiance. I try to soften it with a conciliatory tone. “You’re right, Father,” I say. Calling him that name sounds strange to my ears. I’ve used it so little. “Privacy would be best.”

  He smiles, tight-lipped. I lead them from the hall with Nadia on my arm.

  The screamer-skiff cruises the calm of the harbor. I point her toward the open Southern Sea with a gentle howl. Nadia and I stand on the prow. Spray hits our faces, cooling our skin against the heat of the never-setting sun. I turn the yoke and bank off a rising wave to grab more spray.

  “Edmon!” she shouts in mock anger. “You’ll upset the guests.”

  I glance back at Edric, Alberich, and Edgaard, all looking stern. Their dark robes and armor glint in the light, making them look fierce and dour.

  “I’m not sure they could be any more upset,” I whisper jokingly. She playfully hits me on the arm, and I acquiesce. “All right, all right.” I level the skiff into a gentle angle. I slow the speed and dip her hull to rest where we bob on the blue-green brine.

  I turn to the cadre of men. Their visages range from furtive to glowering.

  “I want to begin by thanking you.” I hope to break the tension. “By visiting Bone with respect, it goes a long way toward mending relations with Meridian.”

  “You’re almost a man now, Edmon, and so I will treat you as such,” my father growls. He addresses me politely, but somehow I don’t think what he says can be good. “There has been a shift on Tao. Not in just the political climate, but in the physical climate, the emotional climate.”

  I nod. “I’m aware.”

  In truth, I’ve not been entirely informed of the news from Meridian. The embargo has been almost total. We receive no goods, nor supplies, nor information. My time at House Julii, however, has not been forgotten, either. Phaestion intimated my father had been maneuvering to take hold of the Synod. Phaestion had his own plans to the contrary. The common people were caught in between. Inevitably, there would be a reckoning. It’s something I want no part of.

  “The people are restless,” Edric says. “They’ve lost faith in the government. The economy is depressed. Protests and crime have risen.”

  His eyes cast blame. He believes I play some part in this unrest?

  “Meridian is a powder keg. If the dissidents are not controlled, if chaos reigns, it will trigger a long spiral into darkness. It will be an end to our civilization.”

  He, like the others, truly believes the Pantheon is the greatest human accomplishment in the universe? What a joke!

  I can’t help but laugh.

  “Edmon, reconsider your choices.” His tone is pained. It costs him to ask, and it is unlike him to ask.

  I look at Nadia. “Reconsider what?” I feel my anger rising.

  “Marry Lady Miranda Wusong. Secure the Leontes name to the ruling house of Tao.”

  His request is now a command. Now, that’s the father I know. I take Nadia’s hand in mine. I’ll not leave her, and she’ll not leave me, either. “I will not.” I’m no longer a boy to be bullied. I can fight him now.

  He moves more quickly than I would have thought possible. He shoves me aside. I hit the deck of the skiff, hard. I scramble, but Alberich plants a knee in my back, holding me down. Edgaard grabs my flailing arms. I try to get up, but someone yanks my head and slams it to the deck. My skin splits, and blood from my scalp streams into my eyes. Through the haze, I see Edric grab hold of Nadia. She screams, but the sound is cut off almost before it starts. With a quick twist of his hands, Edric breaks her neck. Bones snap. She goes limp in his arms.

  “No!” I scream, my voice raw.

  Edric lifts Nadia’s lifeless body and gently rolls her over the railing. She tumbles into the sea. With a splash, she is gone.

  “Nadia!”

  His icy eyes bore into me. “I reasoned with you. You refused. I tr
eated you with due regard. You didn’t listen. I tried to spare you this, but you are an insolent child. You don’t get to choose. I’ve already chosen for you. You want to be a man? Learn the consequences. Power is all that ever matters. Defy power and you will be broken.”

  “Monster!” My voice breaks into a wail. Edgaard holds my head against the deck. “She was carrying our child!”

  There’s no response to this, only the sound of the waves.

  “Our baby. She was carrying our child! Nadia! Nadia!”

  My body is racked by coughs and sobs. The men just stare. A siren calls out, lone and forlorn in the distance.

  “Let him up,” Edric says finally. The pressure of Edgaard’s and Alberich’s weight lifts from me, but I don’t rise. I am pasted to the wet deck, sobbing.

  “Get up,” Edric commands coldly.

  I push myself to my hands and knees. I look at him through blood streaming down my face.

  “Coward! You claim power is all that matters? Face me, you piece of human waste! You killer of innocent women! You killer of unborn children! Champion of the Combat? No. Coward!” I spit into his face. “You are champion of filth! May all your riches fade to dust and your name pass unremembered!”

  It is the ultimate insult to a man who wants to live forever and have his name written across the Elder Stars.

  “Get up,” he says again. Alberich and Edgaard grab my limbs and stand me upright. “I will fight you,” he says simply, his voice unwavering.

  I’ve never fought my father before. He’s terrifying. I hesitate but only for a moment. Hatred outweighs fear. I charge with all my strength. I kick. I punch. I’ve been trained, but I am out of practice since I left House Julii. Still, I’m not helpless. Whirling, I strike, clipping him across the jaw. I see his eyes widen with a startling realization—I am a threat—the son he thought was weak and useless.

  Now he exerts his full strength. He is not a boy soldier; he’s no automaton. He is a seasoned pit fighter who clawed his way from the bottom of an arcology to stand triumphant over all comers. Even my fury doesn’t make me equal. He is the perfect balance of strength, speed, and deadly accuracy as he blocks everything I throw at him. His hand whips out. He punches me in the throat, the only punch he even throws. One touch and I crumple.

  “You’re weak,” he says evenly. “Your child would have been weak, too. They would have taken him in the Pavaka.”

  I gasp for air. I plod forward. Don’t give up, I think. I just need one scratch to end him. Anything. Just one. For Nadia.

  Kick. Punch. Jab. Cross. Uppercut. Jab.

  He grabs my fist—actually grabs it in midair. He turns my wrist back. Snap. My bones break. Then his fist comes for me again. It slams me like a rock. My vision goes black, then starry. I can feel my cheekbones indented, crushed like a seabird’s eggshell. Still I try to stand.

  “Edmon.” I hear my name being called. Something slams sharp and swiftly against the back of my head.

  A sea monster slithers beneath the waves of my dreams.

  CHAPTER 15

  ELEGY

  I exist in glimpses: an azure island sky, the white adobe of the manse, a set of doors opening . . .

  Eventually, I become aware of my weight hoisted between two people, my feet dragging on the ground.

  “What is the meaning of this?” asks an outraged voice.

  “Edmon Leontes has abdicated his position as your overseer,” says Edric.

  Edric or maybe the monster of the sea?

  “Put him down or I promise—”

  “Ah, yes, the music teacher.” I feel the smile in my father’s tone. “You’ve made enough promises to my son.” Bones snap. A body hits the floor. The Maestro stares up at me at an odd angle, blood trickling from his mouth.

  “Stop!” I recognize Gorham’s voice.

  My body sags as one of my supports leaves me—Edgaard, I think. I cannot reconcile this lanky man with the innocent-eyed memory of my brother.

  A cry from Gorham is followed by a wet smacking sound against the stone floor.

  “Cleopatra?” Alberich asks.

  “End it. Swiftly,” Edric responds.

  Darkness again.

  I’m strapped to a chair. Edgaard and Alberich sit across from me. My arms feel heavy. The rest of me, sore and weak. Am I underwater? Inside a fishbowl?

  “What’s wrong with me?” The words are thick on my tongue.

  “You’re under mild sedation,” answers Alberich.

  “Drugs from Nonthera make you weak, open to suggestion,” adds Edgaard. “In the event that you might decide to try something foolish before the wedding.”

  “Wedding?”

  Nadia. My mother. Maestro Bertinelli and Gorham. Murdered. All so I could marry Miranda Wusong and secure my father’s position.

  “The preparations are underway. You’ll be married within the next diurnal cycle,” Edgaard replies coolly.

  I turn my eyes. It feels like they travel a kilometer before I look Alberich square in the face.

  “There was never any chance for peace, was there?” I ask through numb lips.

  He is silent. I rest my head against the seat back and close my eyes.

  “Once you’ve done your duty, it will be over. Father will let you live out your days on Bone. You can return to a life of obscurity, provided you never sing of rebellion or raise a word against the Electors and High Synod again,” says Edgaard.

  To the depths with you, brother.

  “Don’t you care about your family?” he goes on. “About the future of this world?”

  I summon the strength to open my eyes one last time. I stare at him with blades of hatred. I barely have the strength even for that. Sleep takes me.

  I wake. How long have I been here? Have I been slumbering this whole time?

  Aquagraphic images flash before my eyes.

  “Edric Leontes was born in the arcologies of Tao. Through his own cunning and strength, he rose from the killing matches of the Under Circuit to gain sponsorship, fighting under the House Wusong banner in the Combat,” the computerized voice drones, accompanying images of my father fighting.

  Why are they showing me this? I cannot move my arms or my legs. I’m in some sort of pod, bathed in a kind of gel. The images and sound project in front of me.

  “Edric’s happiest moment was not his wins in the arena, but rather it was the birth of his eldest son, Edmon Leontes.” My father strides from the birthing chamber to the balcony, where he holds a child to the star of Tao and proclaims, “This is Edmon, the son of Leontes. Let all behold and claim, ‘The son is greater than the father! He is a leviathan!’”

  My father loves me. The thought soothes me.

  “Edmon grew up in House Leontes under the watchful tutelage of their loyal seneschal Alberich and guidance of his father. Even the emperor, Old Wusong, noticed the boy’s intelligence and tenacity at a young age.”

  I didn’t grow up in House Leontes. I grew up on the Isle of Bone . . . didn’t I? A scene plays out. I’m a child standing before the throne of Old Wusong. I make a joke, and the entire audience laughs.

  I remember that, but that’s not the way it happened. Is it?

  “It was on this day that he was first introduced to the woman who would become the love of his life, Princess Miranda Wusong.”

  Miranda Wusong? What about Nadia? Wait . . . who is Nadia?

  There is a red flashing before my eyes. I hear voices from beyond the amniotic deep of this strange trance.

  “He’s resisting the programming, my lord.”

  “Then intensify the medication and procedure,” says Edric.

  Now I remember. Edric murdered Nadia. He murdered my unborn child. He murdered . . .

  “If you push this too far, my lord, he may no longer remember who he is at all.”

  There is a pause. “Do it,” Edric says.

  Lightning shoots through my body. All my nerves are on fire. I scream, but the sounds are muffled in this liquid dream.r />
  “Young Edmon and Miranda were betrothed, and it was not long after their fifteenth birthdays that they began a courtship in full. The two became storybook loves—he from humble origins, and she from the most powerful dynasty in the Pantheon. Even the emperor could not deny their deep connection. He admired the young warrior’s courage. With his best friend and younger brother, Edgaard, at his side, Edmon quickly won the hearts of the people.”

  Images of us during the war games with The Companions flash. I’m fighting off Sigurd and Perdiccus.

  The aquagraphic shifts. Old Wusong addresses a crowd in the throne room in some sort of royal announcement. Miranda, now older, veiled, and dressed in lavish kimonos, stands at his side.

  “While there are many fine, strong youths of this new generation, there is only one who is truly worthy of my daughter’s hand—Edmon Leontes.”

  Miranda. I’ve won your heart, and you’ve won mine. This is the story that all of Tao knows.

  The image dissolves to me, standing in a dress uniform before a throne. I remember that. The image is from the day I confronted Phaestion about the murders in the arcology. I never stood before the emperor and accepted his daughter’s hand . . .

  The lightning shoots through my body again and again. I scream. The sound is muffled by the liquid I swim in. The pain is too great.

  “Edmon Leontes even abdicated his place as heir to House Leontes in order to devote his time and efforts to supporting Miranda with charity work designed to heal the planet. He joined her in their humanitarian activities to rally public support against the passage of House Julii’s military creation act . . .”

  Miranda, my love, soon we will be married. We can help Edric and serve his plans to save this world.

  The show goes on, and my heart swells with joy.

  My body moves, but it’s not in my control. The drugs cause me to feel outside myself, watching everything that happens. I smile with giddy satisfaction.