by Monica Hahn
Tarik waited until the door was shut behind him, and then advanced to stand before the desk. “I’m taking the position as the new Minister of Defense. And Arati and I would like to be married at the ball tomorrow night,” he said, without preamble.
Saras nodded. “We’ll plan on that, then. Anything else?”
Tarik was surprised that his news wasn’t met with the usual habitual token dissent that Saras enjoyed deploying, but he didn’t really care why the king was acquiescing so easily. There was something that he wanted to ask Saras, something that Tarik had been wondering about for years. He leaned over the desk and looked the old king right in the eyes.
“Yes, there is. Would you actually have had Arati killed if I hadn’t have left her?”
There was a spark of surprise on Saras’s face, and Tarik could see the exact moment he remembered Tarik from before. “So, you did come back,” Saras said.
“I did,” Tarik said. “Because I never did forget about Arati, even though you said that I would. I wasted years apart from her because of you. I’ll ask you again. Would you have killed your daughter?”
Saras sighed and leaned back in his chair, which put some more space between him and his accuser. “Isn’t it enough now that you believed me then?” he asked. “Circumstances were different at that time. I was trying to build something, and for Tibercon to flourish in the way that I imagined it could, I needed treaties with every island kingdom. And that meant I needed leverage.”
“And your daughter has always been a pawn in your schemes.” Tarik sounded bitter.
“Everyone is,” Saras said, simply. “To be king is to play chess, as my daughter well knows.” He smiled slightly. “It might ease your mind, though, to know that this time when we spoke of marriage in the throne room, I did consider my daughter’s future happiness as a factor. You struck me as the type of man that she could love. Probably because you reminded me a bit of her first love, which is somewhat ironic.”
Tarik didn’t find it particularly amusing, but he did find it oddly comforting to receive any explanation at all, even if it wasn’t completely satisfying. There was still no hint of an apology from Saras, and Tarik knew better than to ever expect one. Saras was convinced that any decisions he had made were in the best interests of Tibercon, and were therefore automatically justified. Tarik wondered if his son would behave the same way as king. It was a sobering thought.
Saras interrupted this brief moment of Tarik’s musing with a laugh. Tarik glanced at him, wondering if the king was experiencing a moment of non-lucidness that he had been warned about, not that he had personally witnessed any since they had become reacquainted. “I was just thinking about Mikel,” Saras said, his mouth twisting a little as it always did when using that name instead of Horatio. “I’ve been worried that you might feel overshadowed by your stepson becoming the king, but he’s not your stepson. He is your son, and blood-ties are naturally strong.”
“For anyone but you, that’s indeed the truth!” Tarik retorted.
The king smiled wryly at this and gestured for Tarik to leave.
*****
Later that afternoon, Mikel was seated in the throne room next to his grandfather, as they were receiving early visitors for the ball. Although the announcement was not going to be official until then, Saras wanted everyone to know that Mikel was back and planning on taking his rightful place. Although he had tried to insist that Mikel resume the name of Horatio, Mikel refused to do this, and Saras had finally capitulated on that point.
The gong sounded again, and an elaborately dressed man came forward to be presented.
The herald announced, “The new ambassador from Gilden, if it please your Royal Majesties.”
“It doesn’t,” Mikel said.
“Excuse me?” the new ambassador from Gilden said in astonishment, halfway through a truly magnificent bow.
“I don’t want a new ambassador,” Mikel said. “I would prefer to keep the old one.”
“But, Your Majesty, the king of Gilden has personally requested that Tuder be replaced as ambassador,” he said.
“I understand that,” Mikel said. “And I am personally requesting that he be retained. And my lovely wife, soon to be the queen of Tibercon, would prefer that he remain the ambassador as well. I trust that you now understand?”
“Absolutely, Your Majesty. I will inform the king of Gilden.”
“I trust it won’t be a problem?”
“Absolutely not, Your Majesty.” With another magnificent bow, the short-lived ambassador took his leave.
Mikel looked over at his grandfather, who only raised an eyebrow as commentary, and the introductions continued.
*****
An hour later, Catarina visited her parent’s house, which had been almost completely packed up before they were given the news that they were being retained. It was in a state of turmoil as they were now unpacking. Catarina, who had requested that her attendants remain outside, was finally noticed in the bedlam. Her mother embraced her and her father scowled at her.
“So, you’ve come crawling back?” her father asked.
“I see you’ve decided to stay,” Catarina said, calmly.
“It wasn’t my decision,” her father said. “Apparently I have an advocate in the soon to be new queen.” He preened himself a little.
“And have you met your admirer?” Catarina asked.
“No,” he said. “We attend the royal ball tomorrow.”
“It does sound lovely,” Catarina said. “I am looking forward to it.”
“You will be attending?” her mother asked.
“Naturally,” Catarina said, “and I only came to make it clear that my debt is now paid. Who knew that a year of freedom would turn into a lifetime?”
Her father looked puzzled. “You influenced the queen?”
“In a manner of speaking,” she said. “Princess Arati is to marry my husband’s captain, after all.”
“It’s a mixed-up world where princesses consort with pirates, I say,” her father said.
She laughed. “Former pirates,” she said. “I look forward to seeing you at the ball.” She kissed her mother and dropped an impudent curtsy toward her father.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tarik lost no time after being declared the new Minister of Defense at the banquet that night to begin his campaign. He had all the officers, and any other members of the Guard that could be spared from their duties, gather in the ballroom after the feasting officially ended, and before the drinking began. The repurposed ballroom was in a state of disarray as preparations for the ball the next night were well underway and Tarik intercepted quite a few curious glances from the harried staff that he directed on their way out. He knew that it wasn’t fair to make their late night even later, but he needed a space large enough to accommodate a crowd, and didn’t think that the king would appreciate him appropriating the throne room. Both Saras and Mikel had offered to accompany him to this meeting to lend him extra legitimacy, but he declined their well-intentioned offers, as he felt he had sufficient presence. In this he was proved correct.
The ballroom filled quickly with blue uniformed men that were, for the most part, unnaturally quiet. Tarik stood before them, directly in front of where the temporary thrones would be placed during the ball and spoke. Once he began, even the small murmurings and rustling ceased, and it was completely quiet other than his confident voice.
“Men!” he began. “Men of Tibercon, you that have been entrusted with the sacred duty of protecting this kingdom, I stand before you as someone newly appointed to bear the same responsibility. It is my hope and expectation that we will serve together as brothers in arms, and to that end, I would like to make my position clear. You may know some of my history. I doubt any of you know all of it, nor do you need to. Suffice it to say, I have been a successful pirate.”
There was some laughter at this.
“And before that I was a less successful navy officer.”
; There was a small murmur of surprise.
“Less successful, not because of my own performance, but because of incompetent leadership. I think we’ve all experienced that, to some degree or another, although of course, not any of you with your current commanding officers.”
There was full out laughter at this.
“Leadership is a solemn responsibility. It is the opportunity to extend guidance to those that you command, the opportunity to expose their true potential to themselves, the opportunity to engage them in action that they might have lacked the courage for without your support. Sometimes that support may come in the form of a carefully worded suggestion, and sometimes in the prick of a cutlass against their back, but one of the requirements of leadership is that although the methods may vary, the intent does not. As I said, leadership is a solemn responsibility, and never more so than in this occupation, where you are in charge of the very lives of the men you command, and you must ever be cognizant of that. The men you lead must be able to trust you with their lives. And you must be able to trust yours to them. That’s why I speak of brothers in arms, and that’s what I’m asking for here. There have been divisions recently, and those must not exist if we are to operate as an effectual unit.”
Tarik’s voice grew louder. “If any of you feel that you cannot completely and unequivocally renew your commitment to this brotherhood, you are free to leave, at this very moment, with no recriminations.”
Tarik waited expectantly, and looked out at his officers, who were now standing as still as statues. He smiled approvingly. “Then we are ready to begin,” he said. “Without action, all is lost. Tomorrow, we cleanse Tibercon of any who do not deal justly. Are you with me?”
The rousing cheer could be heard throughout the whole castle and went on for minutes.
Tarik started making his way through the crowd, talking with each guard he encountered.
*****
Up in the balcony normally reserved for use by the orchestra during balls, Arati was dabbing at her wet eyes with her son’s handkerchief, as Mikel had handed it to her before Tarik had begun. Arati had looked at him scornfully, but now she understood the necessity. Mikel was grinning, not unmoved by the speech, but affected differently.
“He’s wonderful,” Arati said, sniffing a little.
“Usually he inspires loyalty through his actions,” Mikel said. “But, on the occasions words were required, I’ve never heard his equal. If he ever decides he would prefer to be king over his current title, I would be concerned.”
Arati laughed at the absurdity of her soon to be husband staging a coup against their son. “I don’t know as I would lose much sleep over it, if I were you,” she said.
“I won’t,” he said. “These days it’s usually Catarina causing me to lose sleep.”
Arati stared at him, her lips twitching. “That isn’t appropriate to tell your mother,” she said.
Mikel burst into laughter, then quieted down before the crowd below spied them. They hadn’t exactly been invited to Tarik’s gathering, and Mikel would rather not be found there. “I didn’t mean that!” he said. “You may have noticed that Catarina enjoys conversing, and never more so than when someone else is attempting to sleep.”
“Oh,” Arati said. “Then I suppose it’s useless to inquire about grandchildren.”
It was Mikel’s turn to look askance.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next day was a busy one in the kingdom of Tibercon. All day long, not only were there visitors pouring into the castle all day, being carefully vetted by a special contingent of the Guard that Tarik had assigned to this duty, but Port Sinbad was being ruthlessly cleaned out. The Guard was expelling any riffraff they could find, and it was an effective and thorough sweep. Ships were filling up with refugees from areas that the Guard hadn’t even progressed to yet, as word of the crackdown moved more quickly than the guards did. Another contingent of guards were assigned to reestablish the perimeter around the island, and new cannons were being mounted at vantage points. Supervised work crews were also starting to rebuild the walls.
It didn’t take long for a feeling of hope to pervade the beleaguered area, and villagers were soon out in droves, cheering on the guards and shouting insults at the miscreants that they were collecting. Members of the Guard, still inspired by Tarik’s words and emboldened by his example, performed beautifully, with professionalism and panache. It was a glorious day, and Tarik basked in it.
He still had his wedding to look forward to, as well as the coronation of his son. And he was excited about this next adventure—restoring a new and better life to Tibercon and being a husband and father. He was glad he had his duties with the Guard to help him burn off the excess energy he was feeling.
*****
There was a throng entering the castle that evening. The coronation was not only the most important event to happen in Tibercon in what seemed like forever, but it was to be preceded by a wedding that had also been long anticipated. The groom was unexpected, but everyone in Tibercon had almost given up hope of their princess marrying.
The ballroom was magnificent as befit the special occasion, and glittered with light. Strains from the orchestra could be heard underneath the babble of the well-dressed crowd. The room quieted down as the last guest was announced, and then the trumpet blared, and all eyes turned to the front of the room, where the princess stood with her soon to be husband. He didn’t look much like a pirate, as he was impeccably groomed and wore the ceremonial uniform of the Tibercon Defensive Guard. Arati seemed to glow in her soft white dress, and they were a beautiful couple. As the wedding ceremony progressed, many a tear was shed at the beauty and simplicity of the vows exchanged. When the newlyweds kissed at the ceremony’s conclusion, the crowd rejoiced.
The old king gave them his blessing afterward, and Catarina appreciated that he gave his daughter such a gracious speech. He seemed to be feeling oddly sentimental with the day’s events. He then motioned for Mikel to join him on the dais that the wedding couple had just exited. Catarina remained where she was, gratified by how handsome and regal her husband looked.
The king quieted the crowd, and then announced, “My grandson, recently returned to us by the grace of Neptune, is to be crowned tonight as the next king of Tibercon!”
Catarina took a moment to sweep her gaze over the crowd to enjoy their happiness. She smiled, and then noticed her parents, maneuvering through the crowd to get closer to the front. Her mother saw her, and gave her a little wave, but her father was oblivious as he was completely focused on the coronation proceedings.
The king continued with a short speech and ended with placing a crown upon his grandson’s head. He then bowed, slightly, to the new king, and went to the edge of the dais, where Tarik was waiting to give him a hand down.
King Mikel had walked to the side where Catarina waited, and he held out his hand and announced that he would like everyone to meet their new queen, his wife. The cheering practically drowned out the rest of his introduction, and Catarina took Mikel’s hand and stepped onto the dais beside him.
Catarina lowered her head slightly to receive the weight of a truly impressive tiara. As she raised her head, Catarina looked straight into her father’s eyes and saw the shock as he registered what was happening. She quickly broke eye contact as she concentrated on acknowledging the enthusiastic audience.
The newly crowned king and queen were then swept up into a whirlwind of activity, as they made the rounds to meet and greet their guests. They also danced with each other at every opportunity, and exchanged congratulations with Tarik and Arati, who were also unfashionably dancing mainly as a couple.
“Were you planning on speaking with your parents?” Mikel gently prompted Catarina, as the night wore on.
She sighed. She had been delaying it, partly because she didn’t want to interact with her father, and partly because she was enjoying herself so much. “I will soon,” she said. Then she turned at the sound of the first firewor
k, and guided Mikel over to a window so that they had a good view of the spectacle.
After the impressive display of fireworks that signaled the end of the ball, Catarina and Mikel found her parents raiding the refreshment tables. Catarina’s mother turned around from getting another plate of shrimp, and smiled at them. She nudged her husband, who turned around with a piece of crab cake in his mouth, which he quickly swallowed when he saw who was there. Then he choked.
Mikel obligingly whacked him on the back, with perhaps unnecessary force, and the food dislodged Tuder’s airway. He forced himself to thank Mikel, with a hoarse voice and watery eyes.
Catarina watched this exchange with unholy amusement in her eyes, an expression that seemed to match her mother’s. Then she held out her hand, and her father kissed it sourly.
“It’s a mixed-up world when former pirates become king,” she said, mocking him gently.
“My daughter a queen,” he said, a little bitterly. After all, where was the justice in the world when his disobedient daughter was rewarded for her sins?
“Catarina’s debt of honor is now paid in full,” Mikel said. “Her marriage for an ambassadorship, that was the agreement.”
Catarina’s father nodded. “And no hard feelings, Your Royal Highness?”
“I wanted to see you walk the plank,” Mikel said, “and I still do. But, your daughter possesses a far more forgiving nature that I do. She’s convinced that it’s a much better fate for you to spend the rest of your life seeing her in love with a pirate.”
Catarina snuggled against Mikel’s side at this and sighed happily. Mikel laughed as he saw the expression of repulsion flash across her father’s face before Tuder forced a smile.
“I think you’re right, love,” Mikel said. “This is more satisfying.”
Catarina kissed Mikel, in front of everyone, and he kissed her back. “I know you’ve spent more time at court recently than I have,” he said, as they drew back and smiled into each other’s eyes, “but unless it’s changed so much, it’s really not considered polite to do that.”
