The Dead God's Due (The Eye of the Lion Saga Book 1) (7 page)

Narelki jumped in shock, eyes
wide and face even more pale.

“Fetch water, Aiul!”
Ariano cried. “Oh, hurry, dear, hurry!”

With a nod, Aiul quickly
stepped into the foyer. He barely registered the doors closing
behind him. Water! He needed it, and it occurred to him that he had
never seen it fetched. That was slave work. But where did the slaves
keep water? The kitchen, surely? Near panic, he tore down the
hallway, his boots pounding on the polished hardwood, and banged a
knee on a table, upsetting a vase perched upon it. The vase fell to
the floor with a crash, sending shards of pottery and water all over
the floor, followed by the table. Aiul grabbed at a tapestry,
tearing it loose from the wall to keep his own balance.

“Mei! Fool! It was right
there before you!” he cursed.

The shattering vase had,
fortunately, drawn the attention of the slaves. Unfortunately, that
attention was from Slat, the Chief Slave, whose duties included
administering whippings to the children of the household, noble and
slave alike. Aiul himself had been quite unruly as a boy, and had
become something of a connoisseur of beatings by the time he reached
manhood. Grandfather Lothrian had handled discipline before his
passing, and Aiul considered his technique quite good, but once
Narelki had placed Slat in charge, Aiul had begun to understand the
true nature of superior quality and craftsmanship.

Slat came stalking down the
hall on spindly legs, his black tunic fluttering, a scowl on his
long, hairless face. His once black hair was still shoulder length,
but gray now, and receding in a widow’s peak. “Master
Aiul, what have you done?” he called out, his deep, accusing
voice sending fingers of terror up Aiul’s spine, even now
these long years past. “That vase was priceless!”

Part
of Aiul felt compelled to shout out his innocence and flee, but it
was foolish. Slat always caught runners. The truth would be best.
“There’s a fire in the library! I need water!
Now
!”

Slat’s eyebrows rose in
appreciation, and he nodded and spun on his heel. “Come with
me,” he called over his shoulder as he hurried back the way he
had come.

Slat led him at a jog into the
areas of the manse normally reserved for slaves. Even here, the
place was richly appointed, though not so well as the rest of the
house. It was a simple truth that form followed function, and slave
areas were necessarily functional. After a few twists and turns,
they came to a cistern room. Slat heaved the cistern cover aside and
snatched a bucket from the floor. Aiul did likewise, provoking a
harsh glare of disapproval from the Chief Slave. “Have I
taught you nothing? It is inappropriate.”

“Shall we let Amrath’s
Library burn over such foolishness? Come!”

Slat answered with a resigned
nod. Together, they rushed back to the library, water sloshing from
their pails, Slat muttering about the mess they were making. Aiul
tried the door, and cursed to find it locked. “Open the door!”
he shouted. “We have water!”

“All is well,”
Maranath called out. Someone turned the handle from the other side,
and the doors opened to reveal Ariano, Maranath, and Narelki all
gathered around the fireplace. Aiul did a double take and looked
behind the door in shock, but there was no one there.

“What…” he
began, but the words died in his throat. He had imagined it, of
course. Too much stress was causing his mind to play tricks on him.
The door must never have been locked at all.
Yes,
it’s safer to believe that, because the only other rational
explanation is unthinkable
.

“Maranath stomped the
coals out like roaches,” Ariano said, beaming once again.

“I’ll have it
cleaned at once, Mistress,” Slat promised, but Narelki held up
a hand.

“Later. I must speak with
my son now. You are dismissed.”

Slat nodded and left the room,
closing the doors behind him. Aiul stared at the handle briefly,
then pushed his thoughts aside. It was just a moment of confusion,
he assured himself.

Narelki rose and cleared her
throat. “Well, that was exciting.” She looked at the
statue of Amrath and smiled. “Perhaps it was Great Father’s
way of forcing a break and letting us cool our heads, hmm?”

“I suppose,” Aiul
said with a nod. “But cooler head or no, I am still resolved
on my choice of wife.”

Narelki nodded and pursed her
lips. “I suspected such. But I have reconsidered. I will not
forbid you, and I will not make my disapproval known.” She
held up a finger of caution. “But, I will not assist you in
this madness, either. If you will go against my counsel, then you
will do it on your own. You have money and property a plenty. You
can afford a splendid home. But I will not speak for you on the
Cradle. That is asking too much of me.”

Aiul clenched his teeth, biting
back his anger, and nodded. It was better than the alternative, to
be certain. “Very well, Mother.”

“Oh, my,” Ariano
said. “This was too much excitement for one my age! I am
suddenly very tired.”

“Of course you are,”
Narelki said, her tone sullen and almost insulting, but Ariano
seemed not to notice.

“Aiul, would you be so
kind as to walk me home?” Ariano asked. “Maranath lives
in the opposite direction, and his legs pain him so. I couldn’t
ask him to walk so far just for my sake.”

Maranath chuckled. “Aye.
I’ll be lucky to make my own trip without falling.”

Aiul smiled at Maranath's
wordplay a moment, then turned to Narelki. “Mother, would you
have any other words with me before I go?”

Narelki shook her head, seeming
very tired herself. “We’ve had enough words today, I
think.”

“Then I bid you good
night, and you as well, Maranath. Thank you for coming, and forgive
us for airing our private matters in front of you.”

“Think nothing of it,”
Maranath said with a smile. “I have seen far worse. Life is
full of such things. You learn to embrace even the rough spots as
time passes.”

Aiul offered his arm to Ariano.
She reached for him gingerly and slowly pulled herself to her feet.
“Oh, it’s been quite some time since I walked arm in arm
with such a handsome young man!”

It was a fairly short walk to
Ariano’s home, and Aiul’s escorting her was merely
courtesy; there were no thugs or robbers in the hills of Nihlos
where House Elders held their estates, though there were plenty
amongst the commoners. Aiul shuddered at the thought.
Better to
be a slave
.
He immediately thought of Lara and felt ashamed.

Ariano
seemed to sense his discomfort and patted his arm as they walked.
“It was kind of you to accompany me. And it was
good to see you again. We were so close when you were young, but
since Lothrian died….” She trailed off and looked at
the ground.

Aiul felt uncomfortable
discussing his grandfather. The man was a wicked criminal, a shame
on House Amrath, but Ariano clearly still loved him. Aiul would not
disrespect that. “Grandfather loved you very much,” he
said with a sad smile.

Ariano looked up at him again,
her green eyes full of unidentifiable emotion. “Even after all
these years, I still dream of him, of our time together.” She
sighed wistfully. “He was a great man, Aiul. I know you think
otherwise, but you’re wrong. And he loved you dearly, too.”

Aiul nodded, and resolved to
change the subject before he said something hurtful. “And
I
remember those games we played in the parlor, even if Mother
doesn’t.” He grinned, thinking back. “What did you
call that one, where you would say something silly, and I was
supposed to argue why you were wrong?”

“’Iconoclast.’
Too big of a word for one so young to remember, I think. It’s
an old game. Some say Amrath invented it.”

Aiul chuckled. “It would
certainly fit him, wouldn’t it?”

They walked on in silence for a
while, Aiul still brooding on his mother’s cruelty. Below
them, in the bowl of the hills that surrounded the city, lay the
heart of Nihlos, a brilliant, shining jewel sparkling beneath orange
clouds. Not for the first time, Aiul considered how isolated the
Houses had become, sitting in their manses here upon the hill, apart
from Nihlos proper.

Shimmering
spires rose from the bottom of the valley, reaching for the sky with
all the arrogance and power of the Founders, twinkling with a
million points of light. Arches and spans ran between them like
spider webs, stark and limned against the luminous sky. The river
Sanguinus, which surfaced only briefly near the center of the city,
seemed more like a lake from afar, though it’s flow was the
life’s blood of the city. It was hard to look upon Nihlos
proper and not be moved, if not for the mighty works of the
ancients, then for the tragic loss of such skill and artistry over
the years.
We are but frail shadows of what they were.

When they arrived at Ariano’s
home, she took her arm back with a slight bow. The place was even
larger and more ornate than House Amrath’s ancestral estate, a
work of art, like everything House Talus touched. Topiary beasts
frolicked on the huge lawn, so true to form one could almost expect
them to move. In their center was an enormous gazebo where the
musicians of the house performed shows. Flameless lights, carefully
arranged to cast accenting shadows, lit the landscaping. The house
itself was made of white marble, fully four stories tall, each level
slightly smaller than the previous. From the roof rose a great tower
that was House Talus’s own wonder, the highest point in
Nihlos, offering spectacular views of the city.

When they arrived, she released
Aiul’s arm and bowed slightly. “You have grown to be
quite the handsome and courteous gentleman, Aiul.” Her face
took on a wistful look. “Sometimes I miss the unruly boy you
were.”

Aiul smiled sheepishly,
chuckling. “My mother would argue he is still here.”

“I suspect she would!”
Ariano giggled. After a moment of sharing his humor, Ariano grew
serious. “You mustn’t hate your mother for her decision
tonight, Aiul. She’s had a very hard life.”

“I know. But why must she
make mine so difficult? It is as Maranath said. I am no young fool,
I am a respectable man. She should support my decisions. I will be
in her place someday.”

“Sometimes, a mother must
do what she thinks best for her child. She is wrong, but her heart
is in the right place.”

Aiul snorted. “She has no
heart.”

“It was torn from her,
Aiul. She has lost more than you know, more than you can imagine.
Find it in your heart to forgive her and speak of it no more. I can
just as easily give you what you asked of her. It will be our
secret.”

“The Cradle?” Aiul
gasped, incredulous. “Truly?”

Ariano nodded. “House
Talus will be honored to speak for you.”

Aiul shook his head in wonder.
“What have I done to deserve such honor from you? You treat me
better than my own mother. You always have.”

“You are wrong, Aiul.
Your mother has always taken care of you. But there are things you
don’t understand. Someday, perhaps you will.”

Aiul shook his head and sighed.
“Is it part of the process, I wonder, of becoming a House
Elder, that one masters the art of speaking in riddles?”

Ariano patted him on the cheek.
“There is a test you have to pass on just that very subject.
I’ll see to the recommendation first thing in the morning. But
now, I need my rest. And as for you, I think you have other things
to do, things that involve a considerably younger woman, eh?”
She gave him a slight wink.

Aiul blushed and nodded. “Good
night, Ariano. And thank you again.”

Does he love
me?
Lara suppressed a frown as she studied Aiul’s face, searching,
probing.
There must be a way to
see.
The
intention of forever ought to be clear in his eyes, if
only she knew how and what to look for. The lust there was plain,
and that pleased her well enough.
Green, like his eyes.
She ran a hand across his clean shaven, square jaw, now grown a bit
prickly in the evening, and sighed with pleasure.
But does
he love me?

She had had her share of men,
of course. It would be shameful to come to a marriage bed without
being skilled in lovemaking, but of love itself, she knew little.
The sum of her experience was the bitter sting of not having her own
returned.
It may be too much to hope for.
She
tried to feel subtle differences in his touch, to hear some
distinction in the sounds he made as they ground against one
another, but if they existed, they were beyond her.
This
is well enough, though.

“I’m sorry,”
she whispered as they lay together, sweat still trickling from their
bodies. “I’m not worth such trouble. Make peace with
your mother, Aiul.”

Aiul lifted his head from her
breast and looked at her, aghast, his high cheekbones and furrowed
brow making him look both fierce and noble. “Do not speak
such!”

“It’s true.”

Aiul looked at her with a
mixture of humor and disbelief. “You would have peace between
me and my mother by driving a wedge between me and my child, between
me and my wife to be? That sounds like sense to you?”

“I suppose not.”
She sighed and turned her head away. “But I’ll embarrass
you. I don’t know the rules. I don’t even know how to
dance!”

“Then we shall forbid
dancing in our presence!” Aiul declared, striking a lordly
pose. “You think I jest? I am heir to House Amrath!” He
flexed his arm to bulge the muscles and grinned. “I have that
kind of power here.”

Lara giggled but gave no
answer, and Aiul threw the bed covers aside and rose, naked.
“Garas!” he called.