“Furthermore, I simply cannot bear the thought of you being ill over me. It’s bad enough that I have to deal with Kurit’s madness in this. Don’t force me to have to handle yours as well.”
I paused, and when he said nothing in response, I shifted my tone from scolding to pleading.
“Please, Jarik, I’m asking you as a friend not to drive yourself to madness over this. You do me no service in torturing yourself. Stay by my side throughout my days if that is what you feel you must do. To be honest, I’m glad of your presence, for you are very dear to me. But do not stand outside that door night after night. Sleep in your bed, that you may better be able to handle what should come the next day.”
I went over my words in my mind, wondering if in my rambling I had forgotten anything. He stared at me blankly, and I worried that he was ignoring my words as surely as he ignored my nightly directive to go to bed. Then he looked away, and there came from him a great sad sigh. I took his hands in mine, and he rose, so I embraced him. For a moment he did nothing but stand there with my arms wrapped around his waist, but then he seemed to give in to emotion and held me protectively.
In a voice so quiet I could barely hear him, he whispered, “You are wiser and stronger than anyone else alive, dear Aenna.” I stepped back to look at him, and he put a gentle hand to my cheek. His gaze was so loving that my heart fluttered for it. “You are right,” he said, still quiet but not in a whisper. “I do you no service if I am exhausted and distracted by remorse. Forgive me that I failed to see that. I have been a fool as of late—that much is apparent to me now. I swear to you, I shall endeavour to be present for you as a confident protector and not one who adds to your worries. I can do that. It is time to put the past where it belongs and pay better attention to the present and future.
“I am troubled that you have suffered so because of us. I have been too concerned with my own remorse to notice his and what we were doing to you. Please forgive me that as well. I see by your face that you do,” he said, for I was smiling at him. He displayed a small smile himself and said, “I suppose you must forgive me, or else I shall have to feel guilt all over again, and then you’ll have to present me with another lecture.”
I chuckled briefly and laid my head against his chest as he embraced me kindly again. “Thank you, Aenna, for showing me this better path. I can be the friend on which you lean for support and not one who saps your strength. I want to be that friend for you. It would be my greatest honour to be needed by you.”
“I do need you, Jarik,” I said. I peeked up to see him smiling genuinely, albeit with fatigue, which eased my mind a great deal. “I’m so glad you have heard me well. Now if only the same speeches would work on my husband …” I sighed.
Jarik gave me a little squeeze and stepped back, taking my hands in his. “Give me a day or so to rest and put my head in order. Then I shall speak with him.”
“Don’t tease him, Jarik. Don’t whack his head or call him a brat or any such thing. This drinking of his is very serious. He pretends that he does not do it and hides it from me. When I have been able to get him to admit that he does it, he promises to stop but does not. If you scold him, he will likely be angry and ignore you, and I cannot bear to see a rift form between you.”
Jarik nodded. “I shall speak to him seriously, as one man to another, and offer him support instead of jesting insults. Try not to fret about it. I’m sure that between us we can manage to end this unfortunate trend.”
I went up onto my toes and kissed his cheek fondly. He smiled again, as he always did when I kissed him so. He caressed my cheek briefly, then said goodnight, and went finally to his room. I waited for some time and then peeked into the hallway; he was not there.
Happy that I had managed to communicate meaningfully with one of them at least, I went to my bed to sleep.
* * *
The King summoned me to his workroom about a month later and showed me a letter that had just been delivered. I recognized the Wusul script and had been learning to read it, but my skills were as yet insufficient to decipher it fully. King Tarken summarized it for me.
“It is an official apology from the High Ran, their King. After hearing your story, I sent a messenger with a strong warning that further abductions or purchases of Keshaerlans to be used as slaves will not be tolerated. I also mentioned how closely this Ran Kei-Galu came to starting a war by imprisoning you and intending to kill my grandson despite the fact that you clearly identified yourself to them. I’ve just received this reply. The High Ran may be a barbarian, but he’s not stupid and does not wish to see war. He apologizes for the behaviour of Kei-Galu and apparently intends to strip the family of their land and ensure any Keshaerlan slaves are set free.”
“From that one house, or from all of Wusul?”
The King smiled and wagged a finger at me. “Ah, Aenna, you see that clever omission as well. Very good. I suspect he means from that house, though I cannot accuse him of otherwise by the way he has worded it. Such is the nonsense of politics.” King Tarken coughed uncomfortably. “Pardon me,” he said afterwards. “I think I’m catching a cold.”
“So does what does this letter mean in the long run?” I asked.
“At the moment, nothing. It’s a finished matter. I know that hardly seems fair to you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t wish for you to march over them for what they did. Not since I managed to survive it.”
He coughed again, his face turning a little red. “Oh, pardon me again.” He cleared his throat a few times and continued. “Aenna, rest assured that had they killed you or little Raelik, I would have sent the full forces of this kingdom against them, with or without an apology. And not just because I care for my family, but because your deaths would threaten all of Keshaerlan. I have but one son, Aenna. If he lost his mind from your death—which clearly he would have—there would be no proper heir to my throne. That sort of upheaval could split the nation apart or at the minimum cause generations of feuding between the noble families. Furthermore…” He began coughing again, unable that time to bring it under control.
Hurriedly, I fetched him a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner. He managed to take a sip, but still sputtered.
“I shall fetch Tash, Your Majesty!” I said as I ran from the room.
Jarik was there in the Great Hall, of course, since he knew I was with the King. I shouted to him to run and bring Tash to the workroom right away, and he did so without pausing to question me on it.
I went back into the room to find the poor man hacking, his face a horrible shade of purple. He held his hand to his mouth, and I saw a trickle of blood between his fingers. I took my clean handkerchief from my dress pocket and put it in his hand. I moved my hands on his back in an effort to calm his spasmodic muscles and tried to speak soothing words.
Finally the wretched coughing tapered off, and he slumped in his chair. He groaned, and I continued to rub his back. Eventually he sat up, his face red and sweating.
“Aenna,” he croaked, “I don’t think that it’s just a cold after all.”
Tash burst into the room and quickly took over everything, as was his wont. I was shooed away with Jarik.
Later that day Jarik, Kurit, Kasha, and I were summoned to the King’s chambers. Tash was there with him as the King explained to us that he was very ill.
“Tash suspects that I have growths in my lungs, perhaps elsewhere as well. I have tired easily for some time now and not felt as strong as I was in my youth. I had thought it old age, but it would seem that my days are numbered.”
The others were stone-faced and did not react, so I forced myself to do the same. Still, I felt myself tremble and knew if I spoke my voice would certainly shake with my dismay.
“This means the next few months will be a time of change for all of you,” the King said. “You will help each other and rely on each other. That is very important to me.”
“How long?” Kasha asked without inflection.
&nb
sp; “Two, maybe three months,” Tash replied. “Now His Majesty needs his rest. Visitations should be kept short.”
“Pah!” King Tarken said. “These are my last days! I’ll spend them with my family. Aenna, Tash has assured me that my illness is not contagious. I would be very pleased if you brought Raelik to me often.”
“Sire,” Tash said quietly, “you should not waste your energy on the infant.”
“Waste? You’re wise but still a fool, Tash. My grandson pleases me, and I am relaxed and happy when I hold him.” Then he began to cough again, so Tash shooed us all away.
I did as the King asked and brought Raelik to him almost every day. He spoke to the infant as though Raelik understood him. Usually I stayed nearby, lest the King should tire and need me to take my son away. But other times he told me to leave them be. He would wink at me and say he had secrets to share with his grandson.
Almost two full months later, I sat reading in the library one afternoon. Jarik came in and took the seat beside me. He gently took the book from my hands and closed it.
“Aenna, it is time. The King won’t see the sun set today.”
I felt anguished pain seize my chest at the news. I put my hands to my face in shock and sadness, though I had known this time would come. Jarik put a gentle hand on my arm and said, “You must go to him now and fetch Raelik on your way.”
“Are you not coming?”
Jarik shook his head. “I spoke at great length with him this morning. His time is short now, and I’ve already wished him farewell. Go, Aenna. There are things that he wishes to tell you.”
I rose and hurried to the south wing. Raelik was in his nursery with Lyenta. I scooped him up and went to the King’s chambers.
When I arrived, Kurit and Kasha were already there at Tarken’s side. As always, the otherwise stoic King’s face lit up at the sight of his grandson. His arms reached weakly towards the little Prince as he said, “There’s my strong little man! Come, Aenna, let me hold him.”
I put Raelik in his arms. and he held him close. “What a fine young boy you are, Raelik,” gushed the King. “Indeed, a strong little one with a fat, happy smile.” King Tarken looked at the rest of us and then said to the baby, “Look, Raelik, look how grim their faces are. But not you, little one. No, what a happy smile you have for your old grandfather today! That delights me.” He tapped the child’s nose playfully with his finger and said, “This happy little face is the image I shall hold in my mind when I go. You show them how to smile, little one.”
The old man tried to lift Raelik towards me, but his arms were too weak. I quickly lifted my child from him.
“He will bring you such joy, Aenna. I am very grateful to the Gods that I was allowed to live long enough to know and love my son’s family.”
Raelik called out a happy gurgle at the attention, making Tarken chuckle.
“Precious, he is. Now, I have things to say to each of you in turn. Kurit, Aenna, please wait outside while I speak with my dear wife.”
On my way out, I looked at Kasha. She stood tall, stately as ever, but in her eyes was a great sadness. Despite all that she had said and done to me, I felt an ache for her.
Kurit and I sat in the receiving room after closing the door behind us. “Your poor mother,” I said quietly. “I can’t imagine how horrible it must be to lose her husband.”
Kurit sighed and rose from his chair. I was not surprised, knowing well by now his penchant to pace when upset. He stopped to stare at a painting of a Penklin sunset, the colours of the sky bouncing over the ocean’s waves. He looked at it as though he were actually staring into the distance and said, “It’s worse than you can imagine. Everything in you dies when you lose the one that you love. There’s the pain of it, but worse is the hole that’s left in your life. Their empty chair. Their wardrobe full of clothes that won’t be worn again.”
He broke his eyes away from the painting and looked at the floor. I thought for a moment he would weep, but he took several deep breaths to avoid doing so. “And then you catch sight of some small thing. The carefully kept clip of a wedding veil. Worse, the little blue glass figurine you bought her one day just because you knew it would make her smile.”
He was reliving his grief at thinking I was dead, and a few quiet tears managed to escape his eyes. He brushed them away in frustration and struggled to compose himself. Then he looked at me and tried to force a smile. “Sorry. I know you’re here and safe and well, and I know further how it makes your heart ache so to see me sad and weak like this. But the memories of those weeks are still awfully vivid, still hideously real. I keep waiting for them to fade, and they had only just begun to do so. Now my father’s impending death has brought them all back in every detail.”
Kurit went to the small stone table in the corner that held glasses and several decanters and poured himself a drink. I sat in awkward silence with a gurgling baby in my lap. I looked at Raelik, and indeed his little chubby face was still happy as ever. I envied my son his innocent obliviousness.
Kurit stared at the wall, sipping his drink. I chose to maintain my silence, for what does one say when one’s husband is experiencing the angry sadness of losing his father? Words of sympathy become trite and meaningless in their overuse during such times. Words of comfort inevitably fail. Everything else is merely an awkward attempt around those choices, and obviously so. Also, I had not realized he was still so acutely suffering my absence. It made everything worse to know that.
In time, Kasha came out of the King’s bedchamber and indicated that Kurit was to go in next. He did, leaving me alone with his mother, who sat opposite me. She sat in silence, glaring at me with unabashed malevolence.
I ignored her for some time, though it was difficult to feel that angry gaze upon me. I decided to try to be kind in the hope that she would finally let her hatred go.
“I know there is an animosity between us,” I said softly, trying not to let my voice waver. It irritated me that she could still make me nervous. “But truly, I feel nothing but sadness for your coming loss. I humbly extend to you my deepest sympathies.”
It was as though I had spoken to a white stone statue. Her pale face did not so much as move at my words. Her thin lips were pressed together tightly, and her eyes held their same cold fury as she continued to stare directly at me.
Kurit soon came out looking more composed than he had when he went in. I was unsure whether his father had spoken inspirational words, or if the alcohol had just finally taken effect. He sat down, and I put his son in his lap to go and see the King myself.
As I closed the door quietly behind me, King Tarken bade me to come sit by his side. I sat on the edge of his bed as he indicated.
“I did not call you last because you are the least important, Aenna. Quite the opposite. You are the most important person I have to speak to before I go.
“I told Kasha that it was my deathbed wish that she cease her torment of you. I do not want to peer upon mortals from the Everafter to see you bound in anxiety over her anger and insults. I gave Kurit what fatherly advice I could and told him to be strong for his mother, wife, and son. But I do not have to tell you to be strong, Aenna, for you have always been that. And it is because of your strength that I say this to you now: my kingdom is left in your hands.
“I have no doubt that Kurit will manage well in the day-to-day undertakings and duties. And he has a good head for the lords, knowing which one responds well to what sort of persuasion. But he has not yet recovered from your abduction, and I fear my death will make him worse. He turns too quickly to the drink. You must help him to stop that before he loses control completely.
“It will be you that will best handle the crises when they arise, for though you are quick to anger, you usually have the sense to calm yourself and try to be rational. You shall of course support Kurit, but do not be afraid to act of your own accord when need be. My kingdom needs your strength, Aenna. Come, take my hand and lean closer. I am tiring, and this is important.�
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His face was ashen, and the hand I enclosed between mine was cold. His breathing was shallow, and he fought to keep his eyes open as he continued. “Aenna,” he whispered, “I foresee great things for you. Your outspoken passion can serve you well if you use it when necessary and keep it hushed when not. Don’t battle over trivial matters. Save it for the monumental ones. You will be a great Queen; of that I have not the slightest doubt.
“But for your own peace of mind, good Aenna, please don’t allow the pathetic prejudices and insensitivities of others to hold meaning for you.”
He sighed and shuddered awfully. There was such a great lump in my throat that I could not speak. I tried to leave his side to fetch Tash, but the King held fast to my hand with what little strength remained in him and said, “No, stay. I have only moments to tell you this. Aenna, I see your legacy written in the hands of the Gods. You will be a woman of legend. Believe in your own ideas and see them through with every ounce of strength that you have. Show my son the way to greatness.”
I wept for him already, trembling as I clutched his cold hand. His eyes fluttered, and with his last breath he struggled to say, “And know, Aenna, that in my heart …” He did not finish. A final cough racked his body, and then he was gone.
I knew it was too late, but I could not help but pitifully whisper, “What? What is in your heart?” I brought his dead hand to my cheek and made as though he were caressing me. My tears fell into his palm as I lowered it back to the bed. I kissed his sweet cheek, wondering if his half-opened eyes still saw me there. I realized that I had not had a chance to tell him at the end how I adored him. He had faded too fast, before I could utter the words. My tears fell on his face, and I gently brushed them away before finally summoning the others.
They came in and saw him there, dead. I could not bear to stay. Raelik would be fine in his father’s arms, and I could not bear to cry before them. I ran out of the King’s chambers, down the hall. and right into my own. I did not even speak to Leiset as I ran past her and went straight through to my bed, where I threw myself like a distraught child and wept. The more I wept, the worse I felt, for he had charged me to be strong and there I was crumbling pathetically.
Sorrows of Adoration Page 30