The King of Anavrea (Book Two of the Theodoric Saga) Page 9

  Han cleared his throat. “And the council? Did you plan on rearranging the government and going to war with the nobility?”

  “That wasn’t planned.” Ireic released her hands. “In fact, I have only ideas and no clear insight into what to do next. I invited a few trusted men to discuss the events of this afternoon.” Ireic drew Lirth back to her seat and sat next to her. “Sit, Han. You are making me uncomfortable.”

  “So it is true. The council is gone.” Han sank into a chair with a groan. “Why? What finally pushed you into it?”

  “What do you mean? The council defied a direct order, thumbed their collective noses at the law of the land, and colluded to break our new treaty with Sardmara. They wanted me to set Lirth aside and seek another wife. All because they were informed she was blind.”

  “Are you?” Han asked Lirth abruptly.

  “Yes.” Lirth lowered her eyes.

  “It is because of an accident when she was seven, Han. She will not pass it on to our children. Even if she could, I still have a say in whom I marry. I chose her and married her. The decision is final, council or no council.”

  “In this case, no council,” Han declared. “Does Trahern know?”

  “I sent word immediately, but I told him under no circumstances do I want to see him until after Eve has given birth.”

  “I doubt he will listen.” Han shifted in his seat. “He might have chosen Eve over Anavrea, but you still have claim on his heart. He will come.”

  “I had to tell him,” Ireic protested. “If he found out I had not…”

  “I know.”

  Lirth sensed there was more left unspoken, but a knock on the door brought the conversation to an end.

  “Come,” Ireic responded as he rose. Han also rose.

  “Sire.” Isack entered and bowed. “General Ulmer Tremont, Master Mather Siver, Master Toril Himesh, and Master Jerin Korp await you in the audience hall.”

  “Thank you, Isack.”

  Lirth gained her feet. Ireic took her hand and placed it securely in the crook of his arm. A wave of nerves washed away her strength, leaving her weak and lightheaded. She trembled.

  Ireic’s warm touch on her arm broke through her building panic. “You will be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so,” Ireic replied as his men opened the double doors.

  ~~~~~~

  Kurios, help me. Help us. Guide my thoughts and actions. Give me the words to say.

  Ireic’s arm felt solid and warm beneath her fingers, the only tangible thing in the turbulent seas of her life circumstances.

  Don’t let me disappoint him, Kurios. He is the only friend I have here.

  Ireic paused and turned, guiding her through the movements with him. The edge of a chair bumped the back of her legs. She instinctively sat before considering if that was what he wished or not.

  “Master Siver,” Ireic acknowledged one of the men. Lirth listened carefully for the answering voice. Their voices were going to be her primary way of recognizing each of them.

  “My liege,” a rich bass voice answered. The man approached and either knelt or bowed from the movement of his voice and the sigh of his clothing.

  “I wish to thank you for your defense of my rights this morning,” Ireic said.

  “It was only honorable, Sire.” The man had bowed, Lirth decided, as he straightened. “Your word and the honor of Anavrea stood in assurance. The treaty was valid and binding.”

  “And the proof of the ratification stands before you.” A familiar hand took hers, and Lirth obediently rose. “Lirth, I present to you Mather Siver, once councilor of the king.” Another warm hand took hers and a soft breath grazed the back of it as the councilor bowed over it. She forced back the fear that was closing her throat and tried to smile in a way befitting a queen.

  “Ulmer Tremont, my commanding general.” Her hand was released and another man took it. His grip was firm, not one of a man accustomed to court formalities. His hand was very large and rough with calluses from hard work with no gloves. He murmured a soft ‘my lady’” before releasing her fingers. The sound wasn’t enough for her to be able to recognize his voice later.

  “Master Toril Himesh, my tutor; and Master Jerin Korp,” Ireic finished. Master Himesh’s hand was slender and cool, and Master Korp’s left hers damp with sweat.

  “Gentlemen, I present my wife, Queen Lirth Yra Theodoric.” Lirth dipped her chin slightly to acknowledge the men and then mentally sighed in relief. She now remembered why she never wanted to be queen: the endless formalities for everything.

  Ireic led her back to the chair. She sank into it gratefully.

  __________

  Chapter Nine

  Turning to face the men waiting expectantly before him, Ireic spoke. “I have dissolved the council. I want to make it clear why I have chosen to take a stand today as opposed to those many other instances we have disagreed. Lord Siver, would you please tell these men what you witnessed this morning?”

  Ex-Counselor Siver recited the events of the morning session in more precise detail than Ireic expected. He included an almost word perfect recitation of his exchange with High Councilor Lousen.

  Himesh, the tutor, was the first to speak. “I never did like Leoyn Tranken’s governmental model.”

  Swallowing a laugh, Ireic barely managed to not smile. His old tutor never had liked the government structure now that he thought about it.

  “So, what now?” General Tremont asked.

  Ireic answered. “We build a new council system, but with some major differences. To be an equitable ruler of Anavrea, I need to understand her needs and her people’s needs. I wish to create a new council where the common man can have a chance to influence my decisions. To do this, I wish to change the criteria for holding a seat and offer the honor to every man in the country interested in taking part.”

  Seeing protests and questions in his audience’s faces, Ireic briefly outlined his other ideas.

  Then the arguments began. What would the exact criteria of the new councilor candidates be?

  Each of the men seemed eager to discuss and consider Ireic’s proposals, except Master Korp. He stood silent and brooding. Ireic watched him as the debates grew more fervent.

  “Master Korp, what is your opinion?”

  A tap at the outer door interrupted any statement Master Korp would have made. Relief flickered in the man’s eyes and Ireic could not help wondering what the man was thinking. Nodding to the footman standing to the right of the doors, Ireic was dimly aware of Isack stepping out from the wall beside the throne and closer to Lirth’s side.

  “Lord Rynan Yorn,” the guard announced as a sturdy young man in his mid-twenties strode purposefully into the room and offered a graceful bow.

  “It is considered bad form to be late for a meeting with your king,” Himesh commented pointedly. His years as a royal tutor were obvious in his icy tone and glare of disapproval.

  “Sire,” Lord Yorn said as he straightened from his bow. “I humbly apologize for my tardiness, but I am in possession of information I would not have if I had arrived promptly. Sides have been drawn and the opposition is already organizing. Some of the former council members have been gathering support within the city already. If we do not act likewise, Your Majesty might lose the people’s support.”

  “Can you tell me anything about their plan of attack?” Ireic’s chest constricted. He expected the councilors to fight, but he hadn’t expect them to organize so quickly.

  “Slander directed at the queen.” Lord Yorn paused as if he could not bear to say the whole. “They claim that she has bewitched you into marrying her. They say she wishes to seize the crown’s money and power for her lowborn father, King Trid. I have been instructed to call her a blind beggar who should be thrown back onto the streets where she was born.”

  Ireic frowned. “Then we must fight back.” He singled out the nearest palace guard. “Fetch Dorn here immediately.” The man saluted and le
ft.

  “What are you planning to do?” General Tremont asked.

  “A formal procession through the city tomorrow at noon,” Ireic answered. “It is time the people met their queen.”

  Lirth remained silent, outwardly serene, and inwardly tense. Despite the desire to tuck her away, far from the harsh words and slander, he knew he couldn’t. Even in a monarchy, the peoples’ support was important. He refused to rule by force. Rule of law had prevailed for four generations. He refused to have its fall be his reign’s legacy.

  ~~~~~~

  Pain pushed against the back of Ireic’s eyes. Closing them briefly, he rubbed his fingers across the lids and massaged his temples. The headache that always came with too much time reading throbbed with his pulse. He sighed and leaned back, pushing the book on his desk away from him. The meeting to map out the new government had lasted into the early morning hours. Too little sleep and too much tension didn’t help.

  The Lisbrith’s book was compelling, especially the sections the Lisbrith had recommended in his correspondence. It spoke with authority about so many things that Ireic had never considered. The main focus seemed to be on God, how he created the world, how he dealt with sin, and how men and women could please him. Ireic found himself wondering if he pleased God. Based on the list of commandments given to God’s people, Ireic suspected he did not please this powerful deity.

  A firm knock on his study door brought his eyes open. Blinking against the light, he rose and straightened his tunic. “Enter,” he called as he reached for the circlet he set aside earlier to relieve the heaviness on his head. His limbs protested the movement. Lack of sleep for a few nights in a row now took its toll in more ways than the headache.

  The door opened, and one of his personal bodyguards stepped into the room. With a formal salute, he said, “An ambassador from Sardmara wishes to speak with you.”

  He is early. We have only been back in Anavrea a few weeks. Ireic carefully placed the gold circle on his head. Turning to face the guard, he searched his memory for the man’s name. “Thank you, Braxton,” he managed at last. “Please escort him here.”

  Saluting again, Braxton exited only to return a moment later followed by a tall young man in his early twenties. Ireic barely managed to cover his surprise at the young man’s age when Braxton announced him. “Aarint Parnan, Ambassador from Sardmara.”

  Ireic found himself looking into a pair of dark blue eyes very similar to Lirth’s.

  “Your Majesty…” The prince executed a graceful bow. “I bring greetings from Prince Joman Parnan, Crown Prince of Sardmara, and Major General Lloyden Parnan.”

  Ireic noted the absence of the King of Sardmara in Aarint’s greeting. Lirth’s brother possessed the same dark-colored hair except it was cropped short and curled tightly against his head. A closely trimmed beard filled out his face, emphasizing his strong features. He stood firmly on the carpet in the center of the room, looking over Ireic with an almost challenging gleam to his eye. “I have come to inquire after our sister’s health.”

  “Welcome, brother,” Ireic replied. Bowing as he would to an equal, he then extended his hand. Aarint accepted it hesitantly. “This is an unexpected pleasure. I am sure Lirth will be overjoyed to see you. Come.” Ireic motioned toward the door. “I will take you to her.”

  Surprise flickered in Aarint’s eyes. He studied Ireic’s face for a moment and then smiled. “You are not what I expected.”

  Ireic laughed. “If it is any consolation, you are not what I expected either. Come. You came to see Lirth. Let me take you to her. Then when you have seen for yourself that she is well, you can relax.” Ireic opened the study door and motioned for Aarint to precede him.

  ~~~~~~

  Lirth longed to move, but Larissa’s quiet movements along the floor at Lirth’s feet constantly reminded her to be still. Hemming the dress that Lirth would wear during the processional through the city in less than three hours took more time than usual. The yards of slippery and heavy skirt made it difficult. Resisting the desire to run some of the fabric through her fingers once more, Lirth concentrated on not moving. Instead, she listened to the movement of the servants around her.

  Dorn spoke quietly to the under maid and arranged to help Larissa. Most likely he had told her to make sure all of Lirth’s many accessories were in their proper place. As usual, they didn’t want her blindness to be overwhelmingly obvious. Although everyone of consequence most likely knew, Lirth needed to appear competent in her role.

  A few feet behind her, near the door to her dressing room, Isack’s deeper voice rumbled softly. He was giving instructions to her newest bodyguard, a man named Liam. Ireic had commissioned him out of concern for her safety. Isack outlined what to do if they were attacked while in different parts of the city.

  A light tap at the outer door of her suite brought Isack’s instructions to a halt as he moved to open the door. Voices echoed dimly, but she didn’t recognize them before being distracted by Larissa’s prompt for her to turn. Obediently she did, imagining in her mind her new orientation to the objects in the room.

  “Your Majesty,” Dorn said a little more loudly than needed. Realizing that Ireic must have arrived, Lirth looked over her shoulder toward the door. Larissa rose from her place in a rustling of skirts and silence fell over the room.

  Something was different.

  Slightly frustrated that she couldn’t see, Lirth turned around to face the door and waited.

  “As you can see, she is well.” Ireic’s voice was warm and pleased. Unsure of why, Lirth looked toward him with a question on her face.

  “Indeed, she does look well.” A familiar voice agreed.

  Instantly, she recognized her brother’s voice. Her dreams were wrong. He lived. “Aarint!” She stepped off the stool and reached out her arms in the direction of his voice. He enclosed her in his arms. He is taller and stronger. Squeezing the unfamiliar breadth of shoulders and chest, she tried to reconcile it to her memories of a young man just entering the first stages of adulthood. The man holding her was a strong capable man, who caught her and swung her around, burying his face in her hair. He squeezed her so hard for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

  “Oh, Lirth,” he whispered as he set her on her feet. Lirth raised her right hand to his face. His features were changed. The breadth of his face had filled out. A short beard caught at the skin of her palm. She smiled as she ran her fingers along its edge.

  “Are you trying to look older than you are?”

  He laughed. She realized how much she missed the sound of her brother’s laughter. “I am the youngest ambassador in Sardmara, Lirth.” He caught her hand and pressed the back to his lips, “I have to at least try to look older.”

  “Ambassador?” Lirth tried to process the information. “What about Joman and Lloyden? Has father gotten to them too?” She felt him stiffen within the circle of her arms.

  “Father hasn’t changed any of us.” His voice lost the joy of their reunion. “He deceived us about you. We all still disagree with him on almost everything.” He sighed and then gathered her close again. “Oh, Lirth, can you forgive me for believing Father’s lies? Please forgive me for not coming to rescue you myself.”

  “I forgave you long ago, though I continued to wonder why you didn’t come.”

  “I hate to interrupt you.” Ireic stepped closer. “There is much to be done before the procession in an hour and a half. I promise to give you as much time as you need afterwards.”

  “I understand.” Aarint stepped back and gave Lirth’s hand a parting squeeze. “I will leave you to your preparations, Sis. Behave for the seamstress.” He kissed her cheek and withdrew.

  “I will see you soon,” Ireic whispered softly to Lirth, as he stepped into Aarint’s place. Then much to her surprise, he placed his hands on each side of her face, tipped back her head, and kissed her. His lips were warm and gentle, but the kiss had strong undertones of something less tame. Then, suddenly, he was gone and Larissa
guided her back to the stool. Lirth found she had plenty to dwell on while she waited for the hemming to be finished.

  ~~~~~~

  Ireic took Aarint with him back to his own suite of rooms to prepare for the processional. Isack followed.

  “When did you marry?” Aarint dropped into the gilt chair in the corner of Ireic’s dressing room and plucked a glass bauble from the adjoining table. He rolled it between his palms.

  “As soon as she recovered from her ordeal in the tower.”

  Aarint’s movements stilled. “How bad was she?”

  “Considering she spent years in a single room with barely adequate food, she looked pretty well. The fever scared all of us, but she pulled through smoothly.

  Tretan approached offering a selection of shirt and cloak options for the processional. Ireic only glanced at them before nodding at whatever the servant suggested. His focus lingered longer on his new brother-in-law’s features.

  Worry and shame darkened Aarint’s eyes and lowered his brow.

  “She has recovered her health though? She appeared hale and in good spirits a moment ago.”

  “Yes, but the memories and the emotional scars will take much longer to heal. For brief moments she seems a confident woman, but then she falls back as though hesitant to draw attention.”

  The concern pulling at Aarint’s mouth appeared sincere, but he could be manipulating Ireic like King Trid did. Seeking to catch him off guard, Ireic asked the question nagging him since Lirth first revealed her brothers’ existence.

  “Why didn’t you rescue Lirth five years ago, when she was first taken? From what she told me, you were there when she disappeared.” Ireic shrugged into the coat Tretan held up. When Ireic looked up from straightening the front, he found Aarint watching him through narrowed eyes.

  “You probably thought we didn’t care about what happened to her.”