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Authors: Kimberly Chapman

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BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
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“All right. This has
gone far enough, Jarik. Come in here—I have things to say to you,”
I whispered harshly into the hall.

He paused for a moment,
and I thought perhaps he would refuse. Then, with the countenance
of a child who knows he is about to be held accountable for
mischief, he entered my receiving room.

I indicated that he
should sit, and when he did not I ordered, “Sit down, Jarik, before
fatigue makes you fall.” I disliked the sound of my voice when I
issued such commands, but I had learned there were times when some
people needed to be forcibly instructed for their own good.

I remained standing
before him as he looked at me uncomfortably. “Now hear me well,
Jarik,” I said. “I cannot handle this. I have an infant to care
for. I have a husband who is half mad with his own misplaced guilt,
and the other half of him is drunk. I simply do not have the energy
nor presence of mind to deal with another tortured soul.

“My abduction was not
your fault,” I said, issuing each word as a distinctly clear
proclamation. He turned his face away from me, no doubt telling his
own mind that I was wrong in that. “Don’t turn away from me and
dismiss my words!” He looked at me again, and I continued. “It
wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t Kurit’s fault. It was terrible, but
I’m home safe now, and all of this ridiculous guilt and
overprotection will not change the past.

“I understand you feel
an obligation to protect me, Jarik, and believe me, I appreciate
that. It means a great deal to me. Your presence pleases me, and I
truly feel safer knowing that you are near. I know without one
doubt that, had you been in the courtyard that night, you would
have saved me. But we were not so fortunate. I was very foolish to
have gone out alone. I promise you here and now not to repeat that
mistake. I swear to you that I shall never leave the safety of the
palace without first telling you in person where I am going, for
what purpose, and when I shall return. That much I owe to you as my
Champion, and I shall not break my word.

“I tell you this so
that you will no longer stand outside my door as you have been. I
know you do it to prevent me further harm, which is very sweet,
Jarik, but look at your face! When do you sleep? I see you there at
all hours of the night and there again when I leave in the morning.
You follow me all day long, and then the next night stand there
again.

“Think for a moment,
please! If you watch over me day and night without rest, you shall
inevitably become ill. I care not how mighty and strong you imagine
yourself to be, for you are still human and still require sleep. If
there does come a time when I am again attacked or in danger, how
can you protect me if your mind and body are slowed by great
fatigue? If Sashken had a co-conspirator, they would no doubt lie
in wait until you reach that state for their next strike, and then
you truly fail shall me.

“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.

“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.”

BOOK: Sorrows of Adoration
12.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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