The King of Anavrea (Book Two of the Theodoric Saga) (12 page)

“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.

__________

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 left.

“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.