Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (22 page)
“So?” asked the knight. “Why aren’t the happy couple dancing, eh?”
“The queen is tired,” Akeela explained. “The excitement of the day.”
“Tired?” Lukien looked at Cassandra. “Is that all, my lady?”
Cassandra grimaced. “Yes,” she said. Yet her eyes seemed to say more.
“Well, then,” said Lukien awkwardly. “You should rest.”
“She is resting, Lukien.”
Akeela and Lukien looked at each other. Lukien’s smile sagged. He nodded and returned his attention to the pitcher of beer, filling Akeela’s goblet again.
“Good beer,” he said. “Let’s drink a toast to the two of you.”
“Yes,” agreed a new voice. “Let’s drink to the young lovers!”
Akeela looked up and saw Baron Glass approaching the table. He had a goblet in his only hand and a smarmy smile on his bearded face. He had left behind his pretty young wife and undisciplined children, and he bowed slightly to Cassandra as he came forward. Cassandra forced a pleasant countenance.
“Baron Glass,” she said, “you are welcome to drink with us. Come, sit yourself down.”
“The queen is gracious,” said the baron. He looked around for a chair, then found the one that Figgis had vacated. Coming around the table, he pulled the chair close to Akeela, but before he sat he lifted his glass. “To you both,” he said. “May Fate grant you a long and happy marriage.”
“Here, here,” toasted Lukien, still drinking from the pitcher.
“Thank you, Baron,” said Akeela. He took a sip of beer, watching Glass as he did so. If the baron hadn’t been so near, he would have reminded Cassandra of what he’d said earlier—before the day was over, Glass would ruin it with politics.
“So,” said Akeela cordially, “how did you like the tournament this year, Baron?”
“Well played, as always,” replied Glass. This time he raised his goblet to Lukien. “Good jousting, Sir Lukien. You are as skilled as I ever was, maybe more so.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Lukien. “You honor me.”
“And the banquet . . . so lavish!” Glass looked around the chamber. “To be honest, I had expected a smaller affair.”
“Oh?” asked Cassandra. “Why is that?”
Akeela braced himself.
Here it comes
. . .
Here it comes
. . .
“The expense, my lady,” replied Glass. “With all the projects your husband has been championing, I didn’t think the treasury had enough in its coffers for such luxury.”
Akeela stiffened. “Baron Glass . . .”
“It’s a special day,” interrupted Lukien. “And I think it’s worth the expense, don’t you, Baron?”
“Of course.” Glass grinned. “Tell me, Queen Cassandra, have you seen your husband’s library yet? It’s quite impressive.”
Cassandra began to answer, but Akeela said quickly, “I’ve taken her there, yes.”
“Did you think it was very grand?” asked Glass.
“I think it will be marvelous when it’s done,” said Cassandra. To Akeela’s surprise, she took his hand. “And I think it’s worth any expense to bring light to the world, Baron.”
“Hmm, Chancellor Sark may not agree with you, my lady. He doesn’t like watching the coffers of his treasury bled dry.”
“It’s not his treasury,” snapped Akeela. “And it’s not yours or mine, either, Baron. It belongs to the people of Liiria. They want the library. They know it will bring them knowledge.”
Baron Glass looked down into his goblet, considering his words carefully. “Knowledge,” he sighed. “Knowledge is for men like you and I, King Akeela. Knowledge is for people who can handle it.” He gestured around the chamber. “Look about this room. What do you see here but nobles? These are the elite of Liiria, my lord. They already know how to read and write. They don’t need your library.”
“Precisely,” argued Akeela. “The library is for all those people who aren’t here; the people left out to celebrate my wedding in the streets.” He smiled slyly at the Baron. “I’m building the library for your servants, Baron Glass, so that maybe they can do something better than swill your pigs and shear your sheep.”
Glass’ face reddened. “King Akeela, not everyone can be noble. Fate chose my birthright.”
“Nonsense,” said Akeela.
“It’s not nonsense,” said Glass. “And the same power that made me noble put you on the throne. Do you think my servants tend my herds because I keep them from something better? No. They tend my herds because they can do no better. It is Fate’s will.”
The notion incensed Akeela. Like many in Liiria, Glass was Fateist, part of a cult that believed the world controlled by an unseen force, neither god nor devil. It was just one of many faiths accommodated by Liiria, but it was influential in the country, and Glass believed its myths devoutly.
“Baron,” said Akeela carefully, “this is my wedding day. I don’t want it spoiled by politics and religion, and I don’t want to argue with you.”
“You should listen to me,” Glass warned. “I am not alone in these thoughts. There are others who are concerned with your ideas, my lord. They think they are dangerous, and so do I.”
“The people support me,” said Akeela.
“The people do not run the chancelleries,” Glass countered. “You and I are of noble birth; we know how to govern. At least that’s what your father believed.”
“I am not my father!”
The music suddenly stopped. Akeela shrank back in his chair as the eyes of the celebrants fell upon him. Baron Glass smiled, amused, and rose from his seat.
“No,” he said, “you’re not.”
Before he could go, Akeela got to his feet. “Wait.”
Glass stopped and turned around, looking at him questioningly. Angry, Akeela decided the time had come to make his statement.
“Everybody, please listen to me.” He already had the crowd’s attention. “I want to make an announcement.”
“Announcement?” asked Lukien.
“Akeela?” probed Cassandra.
“I’m going away for a while,” Akeela told them. “I’m going on a journey, a goodwill tour, you might say. I want to introduce myself to our neighboring nations. I want them to see me, and know that they have an ally in Liiria.”
“What?” erupted Glass. “My lord, you’ve only just returned. The ink on the Reecian treaty hasn’t dried yet!”
“Even so,” Akeela continued, “I’m going. Countries like Marn and Norvor need to know they still have an ally in Liiria. This is going to be the start of a new relationship between our nation and the rest of the continent.”
The crowd began to murmur. As Akeela expected, the chancellors in the audience shook their heads.
“My lord,” said Glass, “don’t you think you’re going too quickly? Don’t be reckless. Let us send emissaries first.”
“Reckless?” asked Akeela. “Like I was in Reec, you mean? Or do you think I was merely lucky on that mission, Baron? More of your Fate nonsense?”
Glass sighed miserably. “I’m only thinking of your safety, my lord. And the good of Liiria.”
“Fine. Then we’re agreed that the good of Liiria matters. Therefore, I am going on this tour. It’s important.”
“King Akeela—”
“It’s important,” Akeela repeated. He glared at Glass. “Now, make your fellow lords understand that, Baron.”
Baron Glass was flabbergasted by Akeela’s tone. They stared at one another in challenge, Akeela determined not to blink. Then, the baron smiled.
“Well,” he said, “perhaps there is more of your father in you than I thought, King Akeela. Excuse me, please.”
Akeela watched him turn and go, then sat back down. He realized suddenly he was shaking. Lukien hurried a goblet into his hands.
“How’d I do?” he asked.
“Drink,” advised Lukien.
“Akeela?” Cassandra asked. “Are you really going away on this . . . tour?”
“I’m sorry, Cassandra, I should have told you,” said Akeela. He took a few gulps of beer, steadying himself. Blessedly, the minstrels had started playing again. “But Glass got me so angry I forgot myself. I had to say something to change the subject.”
“Well, that certainly did it!” joked Lukien.
“So you’re going?” asked Cassandra crossly. “Just like that?”
“I must. I’m king.” Akeela took her hand. “Please try to understand. It’s as I told you in Hes—I’m trying to accomplish something. And it won’t be so bad; I won’t be gone that long. You can get things ready for us here in Lionkeep. And Lukien will look after you.”
Cassandra’s face clenched. Lukien put down his beer.
“Me?” he blurted. “But . . . shouldn’t I go with you, Akeela? I mean, who’ll protect
you?
”
you?
”
“Come now, Lukien, you’re not the only Royal Charger in Liiria. And you’re Cassandra’s champion now. Your first duty is to the queen.”
Cassandra pulled back her hand. The expression on her face was dreadful. “I’m not feeling well, Akeela,” she said. Yet as she spoke, she looked at Lukien. “I think I need to be alone.”
The celebration went on for hours more, though Cassandra had retired early to her private chamber, feigning a headache that had become remarkably real. Her private chamber was a very grand room, with silk window dressings and velvet chairs and her own bed for those nights when Akeela didn’t require her. She stared at the bed from one of the plush chairs, listening to the ebbing revelry in the banquet room far below and wondering what it would be like to share her sheets with Akeela. Despite her illnesses—real and imagined—she had promised him his wedding night, and as king he had a right to expect her compliance. She hadn’t thought she would dread the experience, but as the night wore on and the celebration ended, she began to fear the inevitable knock at her door. If she had gone to her window, she would have seen the exhausted nobles streaming out of Lionkeep, their enormous appetites slaked by Akeela’s kitchens and wine cellars. She could hear them faintly though the glass, bidding farewell to friends and enemies they wouldn’t see again for ages, and she knew that her virginity would soon be at an end.
He’s a good man,
she reminded herself.
I should be proud to give myself to him.
she reminded herself.
I should be proud to give myself to him.
But she wasn’t proud at all. Cassandra’s feelings bounced between dread and guilt, because she feared Akeela’s clumsy touch and longed for Lukien’s experienced hands instead. She had hardly been able to look away from the Bronze Knight all day. He was compelling, like the sun, and watching him warmed her soul.
And she was cross with Akeela, because she thought his plans were stupid and she resented him for leaving so soon. He was a man but he acted like a boy sometimes, and despite the hours she had spent brooding alone in her chamber, she could not understand his desire to tour the nearby nations.
Or did she simply fear being alone with Lukien?
Yes.
The answer cut through her mind, crystal clear. Without her husband close, Cassandra knew Lukien would tempt her. Akeela wasn’t the only child in Lionkeep. She too was like a youngster, accustomed to getting what she desired.
On the table beside her chair stood a flagon of blood red wine. Cassandra picked it up and poured herself another glass. She had been careful with the wine throughout the night, sipping just enough to ease the pain in her stomach while still keeping her senses clear. There was a point of drunkenness she hoped to reach, though, a point where it would be easy to go naked into Akeela’s arms and feel his hard body atop her. She knew what it would be like; her maids in Hes had warned her all about it.
Then, at last, the knock came. With it came the voice of one of Akeela’s many stewards.
“My lady? Are you awake?”
Cassandra put down her wine glass slowly. “I am.”
“How does my lady tonight?” came the question through the door.
Well enough to bed the king. That was the answer the steward sought.
“I am well,” replied Cassandra dully. “Where is the king?”
“King Akeela requests your presence, my lady. I am to bring you to him if you are well and willing.”
Cassandra couldn’t help but smile. Too many men wouldn’t have given her the choice. “Come in, then,” she said and stood up to greet the steward. He was a little man with perfect clothes and a gentle twinkle in his eyes. He smiled at Cassandra, as if to soothe her fears. Cassandra felt at ease with him and returned the smile. She looked down at her dress, which she hadn’t changed, and suddenly hoped she looked all right. But she could tell by the steward’s approving nod that she still was beautiful. Without a word the steward stepped aside, revealing the torchlit hallway beyond her chamber. There was no one in the hall at all, just the soft glow of light bidding her forward.
There was nothing to be done, Cassandra told herself. And she had so wanted this marriage, and to be away from Hes. It would be well to be Akeela’s lover. He would not hurt her, at least. So she let the steward guide her from the chamber, and not a single word passed between them as they walked the glowing hall. At the opposite end was another chamber, also very grand, with two ornate, rounded-top doors and a pair of brass braziers standing beside them like sentries. Cassandra felt herself flush from the heat of their fires and her growing apprehension. The wine worked on her brain, making it swim. Akeela was beyond those fabulous doors, waiting for her. And she knew that she would not emerge intact, and that a piece of her would be left behind, never to be reclaimed. When the steward paused outside the doors, he noticed Cassandra’s troubled expression and offered her a little nod, the way her father might have done.
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