Prince of Bryanae

by Jeffrey Getzin

  Her reflection was silent from then on.

  Chapter 80

  One moment, Waeh-Loh was staring at her reflection, which had just stopped speaking to her. The next moment, time hiccupped.

  She had decided that she had to escape, that under no circumstances would she allow herself to be wed to the man who had destroyed her home. She would escape, but she would wait until she returned to Ignis Fatuus—and she knew that she would return there, just as she had known that she would kill the barbarian with the droopy mustache. If she escaped now, she would be alone in a foreign land where everyone was her enemy and she would stand out. But if she waited until she had returned home …

  So she had decided, but then everything seemed to lurch forward. Events zipped by at a dizzying speed, as though a weird burlesque were being performed before her eyes, with a cast that included everybody she knew. She woke up, went to bed, ate, had conversations … all of her day-to-day activities, but at a maniacal pace. Yet nothing was omitted or skipped: everything happened, and in the correct order, too, but to Waeh-Loh, it was as though the gods had grown impatient with her story and were flipping through the pages of her life to get to the interesting bits.

  Perhaps it had something to do with Tamlevar. Indeed, the effect was very much like what had happened on her voyage to Kardán. Whatever the cause, her life galloped out of control while she became merely a spectator.

  Brushing her hair, consuming bland food, urinating in the frigid outhouse, strained conversations with her mother, lessons from Mistress Affliction on the duties of an Ildrassi’s wife. Women in the dormitory arrived, women in the dormitory died. Tears. Anguish. Many more beatings, though none for her or her mother.

  Dudrassi soldiers arrived. Waeh-Loh was packing her belongings.

  Time hiccupped again, fell out of the rapids through which it was coursing, resumed its normal pace.

  * * *

  Waeh-Loh stared blankly at the burlap bag she had been filling, her heart pounding. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. She felt exhausted and winded, yet was neither of these things. At least not physically.

  “Now what’s the matter?” her mother said to her.

  “What?” Waeh-Loh tried to clear her head. Had she imagined the hiccup, or had it been real? If it had been real, had anyone else felt it?

  “Why’d you stop?”

  “Stop?”

  Tee-Ri rolled her eyes. “Packing. Finish up, will you?”

  “What?” Waeh-Loh looked down at the bag she had been packing. “Oh. Right.”

  Her fingers numb, she added the few remaining pieces of clothing that she had into the sack and then tied it closed.

  “There’s a ship waiting for us,” Waeh-Loh said. “Isn’t there?”

  Tee-Ri’s only reply was a disgusted sigh. She shouldered her own sack, and headed for the main quarters where Waeh-Loh knew the soldiers waited for them. She had seen them arrive, had heard them order her to pack.

  Seen them, heard them, yet it was more like she remembered having done so without actually doing it.

  You won’t be seeing much more of me. I have to pick the times I appear to you very carefully.

  The words echoed in her head as though Tamlevar had spoken them only moments ago instead of months.

  So be strong, and trust me. Tamlevar’s parting words.

  Be strong. Watch them, and learn about them. Be disciplined and strong for us all. Her father’s parting words.

  Be disciplined and strong. Good advice.

  Waeh-Loh shook off her disorientation and shouldered the small sack of her belongings.

  The part of her that knew the future told her that the soldiers would take her to a ship, and it was there that she would be reunited with her father. That reunion would be marred by tragedy, she realized, though she didn’t know the form in which it would manifest.

  And the ship, she knew, would bring her home to Ignis Fatuus, where even now, the Warlord Rackal patiently waited the arrival of his elven bride.

  Chapter 81

  Waeh-Loh felt like a fool in the costume Mistress Affliction had chosen for her. No, not just foolish. Ashamed. Bare-breasted and wrapped in colorful silk scarves, she felt like a common prostitute instead of a princess and bride-to-be.

  Blame it on the Kard’s fundamentally incomprehensible value system and their belief that the more important you were, the less clothing you needed—particularly among women. Thus for Mistress Affliction to walk around naked as she did was a brazen claim of absolute superiority. Not even the Warlord himself walked around completely naked: practical matters always took precedence. In a land where promotion can be yours simply by killing the man above you, it was unwise to walk about completely defenseless.

  So now, as the envoy of soldiers escorted Waeh-Loh and her mother through the small copse of trees on the way to the beach, Tee-Ri was having no end of fun at her daughter’s expense.

  “You look like a tart,” she was saying. “A common tart.”

  “I know, Mother. You’ve told me.”

  “To walk around half-naked like that; that’s no way for royalty to behave.”

  Waeh-Loh sensed that there was something profoundly ironic about this line of derogation, but couldn’t put her finger on what it was. It irritated her, because just once, she’d like to sting her mother the way she seemed to delight in stinging Waeh-Loh.

  “I know, Mother,” Waeh-Loh said, half-sighing. “You’ve told me.”

  Tee-Ri tossed her golden hair with imperious disdain. “It’s so … odd that he should choose you as his bride. I mean, don’t get me wrong: I love you to death, but why he should choose you over so many other, more attractive, more accomplished women is anybody’s guess.”

  You mean like you, Mother?

  “You’re welcome to him,” Waeh-Loh said.

  “You think I was referring to myself? Don’t be ridiculous, Waeh-Loh. It would be unseemly for I, Queen of Ignis Fatuus, to marry a mere human. It would be beneath me.” Her eyes lost focus for a moment as her mind seemed to wander. “Although, he does have a certain … masculine appeal, I must admit.”

  “More than Father?” Waeh-Loh said.

  “Hm?” Tee-Ri’s attention snapped back. “More than who?”

  “More than Father? Do you think the Warlord has more masculine appeal than Father?”

  Tee-Ri laughed, her voice light and airy. “Don’t be silly, Waeh-Loh. I loved your father very much, for all his inadequacies. But I’m sure he’s dead now, the poor man.”

  They had passed through the trees now, and from their vantage point, Waeh-Loh could see the entire length of the beach to where it disappeared around natural rock formations to either side down the shore. Ahead was the one dock, and moored to it, the same ship that had brought her family to this awful land, nearly a year ago.

  “He’s not dead,” Waeh-Loh muttered. “We’re going to see him soon.”

  “Hmmm?” Tee-Ri’s attention had wandered to one of the soldiers in their escort, a bronze-skinned youth at whom she now batted her eyes coquettishly.

  Waeh-Loh didn’t answer. She was too busy scanning the area near the ship, looking for her father among the figures gathered by it. She knew he would be here in the same way she had received other glimpses into the future. He would be here, and their reunion would be tragic. Her stomach was knotted with dread, and her mind ran through all sorts of terrible scenarios: he was sick, he had gone mad … There were too many ways fate could bring torment. For her to try to anticipate it was a fool’s errand.

  The entourage had made it halfway down the beach when a lone voice called, “Waeh-Loh? Is that you?”

  Waeh-Loh searched the figures by the boat, then saw a robed man step clear of the pack. Immediately, barbarian soldiers blocked him from the possibility of escape.

  “Waeh-Loh!” The figure waved his arm. “Waeh-Loh!”

  Yes, it was him!

  A huge smile broke out onto Waeh-Loh’s face and she slipped free from
her entourage and ran down the beach, her feet sinking into the cool sand with each stride. Behind her, her guards shouted in consternation but found themselves in a precarious position: as the Warlord’s intended, Waeh-Loh’s potential authority exceeded their own; yet, currently, she was only a mere female, and an elven one at that.

  “Father!”

  Now his guards were forced to choose whether to prevent him from escaping or to confront the female running at them. The shouts from her own guards forestalled any actions they might have been contemplating.

  “Out of her way! She is the Warlord’s intended. See that she comes to no harm!”

  Her father’s guards eyed each other nervously, but parted for her. She ran into his arms.

  His face was worn, gaunt, and lined with fading scars. Anguish ached in her belly at the thought of the abuse to which he must have been subjected.

  “Oh Father,” she said, crying against his scratchy canvas robe.

  “Waeh-Loh, I’m so thankful you’re all right!” The concern in his voice moved her deeply, and she squeezed him tightly. They had their arms around each other, and she felt safe for the first time in months. But looming like foreboding storm clouds was the certain knowledge that tragedy would soon mar her joy, and she looked about for signs of danger.

  “I can’t say that I entirely approve of your attire,” King Kral-Sus said, his silver eyes shining with damp. Despite all the beatings and torture he must have experienced, yet still his strength and kindness shone from those eyes.

  Waeh-Loh laughed, but her laughter was tinged with bitterness.

  “That’s not the only thing you won’t approve of, Father,” she said

  He raised a single silver brow.

  She took a deep breath.

  “They’re forcing me to marry the Warlord,” she said.

  “Oh my,” he said, inhaling sharply. “But that’s … that’s …” He seemed to have trouble finding a word to convey the degree of his dismay.

  “… awful,” she said, finishing his sentence for him. “I know, Father. What am I to do?”

  Tears slid down her cheek. King Kral-Sus wiped them from her face.

  “We’ll think of something,” he said. “We just need to be strong.”

  “And disciplined,” she said.

  “Yes, Baera-Ni.” His smile returned, and Waeh-Loh’s spirits buoyed with it. “Yes, absolutely. Discipline is critical in situations like these. It’s the only way you can surv—”

  “Ah, my darling husband,” shouted Tee-Ri as she approached. “You’re alive!’

  King Kral-Sus stepped free from his embrace with Waeh-Loh and regarded his wife with something less than affection. It had never occurred to Waeh-Loh until this moment, but the love had been gone from their relationship for as long as she could remember.

  “Yes, Tee-Ri. I survived the ‘training,’ as you did, I see.”

  “Oh, it was horrible,” Tee-Ri said. “You would not believe the indignities that were put to me.”

  King Kral-Sus lowered his eyes and cleared his throat. When he replied, his voice was gruff.

  “I can imagine,” he said.

  “You must board now,” one of the soldiers said to Waeh-Loh, gesturing up the plank. “Please.”

  She glanced at her father, who nodded, then began climbing the gangplank to the ship. Behind her, she heard first her mother follow and then her father.

  “Hurry up,” Tee-Ri said to King Kral-Sus. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I can’t move as fast as I used to,” he said.

  Waeh-Loh turned, her apprehension increasing. “Why, Father? What’s happened?”

  King Kral-Sus lowered his eyes and did not reply. Tee-Ri, obviously seeing a vulnerable area, decided to poke at it.

  “Don’t be a child, Kral-Sus. Answer your daughter’s question.”

  His lips shook, and his eyes did not meet Waeh-Loh’s. Instead, he leaned towards Tee-Ri’s ear.

  “What are you doing?” she said, her voice a bray.

  Kral-Sus pulled back, then tried again. This time, Tee-Ri let him whisper into her ear. A smile appeared on her face, then grew.

  “Oh, that’s awful,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

  “Please,” he begged. “Don’t.”

  “Waeh-Loh, you’ll never guess what’s happened to your father.”

  All the blood had drained from Waeh-Loh’s face, and she felt a chill in her fingers.

  “What?” she said.

  “Tee-Ri, no!”

  She laughed gaily, her beautiful blonde hair sparkling as she tilted her head back.

  “They’ve castrated him!”

  “Wha-what’s that mean?” Waeh-Loh’s heart was pounding.

  “Tee-Ri, don’t. Please.” The strength in her father’s voice was gone. All that remained was a desperate wheedling.

  “Father, what have they done to you?”

  “Not very much,” Tee-Ri said, taking evident delight in twisting the blade. “It means your father can’t pleasure women anymore; but then, that’s nothing new. But it also means that he can no longer sire children. You, dear Waeh-Loh, are the last of the great King Kral-Sus’s line.”

  Waeh-Loh gasped and brought a shaking hand to her mouth. At last, her father raised his gaze to meet hers. They stared at each other for a moment.

  Then he collapsed to the gangplank and began to sob.

  Chapter 82

  “Don’t worry,” Tee-Ri said. “At least I can still have children. We can carry on the noble bloodline on my side of the family.”

  * * *

  “You poor dear. Now that you’re no longer physically able to fulfill your marital duties, we’ll need to make special arrangements when we get home. Don’t worry: I have just the men in mind to serve in your place.”

  * * *

  “Funny. I wouldn’t have thought it would have made a difference, but you seem somehow … shorter to me. I wonder if what they did to you reduced your physical stature and not just your stature as a man.”

  “Mother,” Waeh-Loh said. “Be quiet.”

  Queen Tee-Ri stared at her daughter in astonishment. It was as if the dog had just spoken. But the Queen was silent the rest of the journey.

  Chapter 83

  Waeh-Loh wished in vain for one of Tamlevar’s time-bending tricks, some way to make the voyage pass quicker. As it was, she found herself confined to the hold with her two silent parents: her father, who daily shrunk further into his shame and loss, and her mother, who glowered at Waeh-Loh and sulked.

  It was a common misunderstanding among the humans Waeh-Loh knew at the dormitory that elves, being so long-lived, were somehow immune to the passage of time and to boredom. Perhaps to a human, it might seem so, but the difference was only one of degree.

  So now, trapped in a single room with two very negative sets of emotion, Waeh-Loh was desperate for escape.

  Perhaps, she thought, it was the ideal time to work on discipline: that elusive art that her father valued so highly. She had thought much on the subject during her time at Mistress Affliction’s mercy, and she felt she was starting to understand it more.

  Discipline, she believed, was the ability to do what needed to be done regardless of personal discomfort, and regardless of fear or weakness. It was stoicism taken to a level that included emotional and intellectual factors, and not merely physical ones.

  All right, then, what needed to be done? What had to be done that she could do?

  Well, for one, she had to prevent this wedding. The very thought of she, an underage child, being forced to wed the monster who had castrated her father—who had ripped his power and kingdom from him as surely as he had ripped his manhood—was anathema to her. She would rather die than partake in such an appalling ceremony.

  And then the wedding night …

  No, the less she thought about that, the better.

  So, then, here was her opportunity for discipline. She would need discipline to escape this fate. She didn’t
know how, yet, but it would require discipline, and it would require strength.

  Waeh-Loh rolled onto her belly and placed her hands on the wooden floor.

  “Oh, what are you doing now, child?” Tee-Ri snapped.

  Waeh-Loh ignored her. Discipline meant not letting anything deter you from what needed to be done. That meant pain, that meant fear, and that certainly meant your mother’s snipes.

  Her arms trembling, Waeh-Loh pushed her shoulders and chest away from the floor, but she couldn’t get her knees to clear.

  “What in the name of the gods are you doing?” Tee-Ri’s voice held mixed parts of revulsion and amazement. “Some kind of exercise?”

  Yes, mother, some kind of exercise, Waeh-Loh thought.

  She fought to get her knees away from the floor but could not find the strength. Her arms gave out and she flopped down onto the hard wood surface, turning her head to the side just in time to avoid a severe rap on her nose.

  She lay there, gasping for breath, ignoring her mother’s insults. At least she had tried. And while it wasn’t much, it was a start.

  “One,” said Waeh-Loh, and then tried for two.

  Chapter 84

  Waeh-Loh inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the invigorating air of Ignis Fatuus. So much of her ordeal seemed washed away and cleansed just by breathing in the air of her homeland. The sun hung low to the West, and the sky was touched with red and brown, as though the blues and greens of the land she remembered had been stained with dirt and mud in the course of its conquest.

  Waeh-Loh stood at the base of the gangplank and said, “I’m home.”

  Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulder but said nothing. He had spoken little since the voyage began and had withdrawn deeper into himself. He had taken the entire burden of his kingdom’s failure upon his own shoulders. In truth, some of it belonged there, but surely not all of it. After all, why have advisors and councilors if not to receive advice and council? No, there was enough shame and ignominy to go around, but her father would share none of it. That willingness to take responsibility for the failures of his kingdom was probably what had made him such a great king; but it was also what was destroying him now.