The Madness of Kings

by Gene Doucette

  They used to practice drawing the leaves.

  Battine arrived at twenty-o’clock, alone. The library door was open. She lit a candle from a nearby stand and walked a well-practiced route to the back corner. Waiting there for her was King Ho-Kenson, first of his name, sovereign of the kingdom of Totus.

  He was still in the finery expected of him for the feast night.

  “Hello Batt,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

  He took the candle out of her hand, placed it on the study table in the middle of the aisle, and kissed her gently on the cheek. The kiss turned into a brief embrace.

  “It’s so good to see you,” he said into her ear.

  The hug felt all too familiar. Old rhythms reasserted and her heartbeat quickened. This was the right place for all of that but the wrong time. There was no going back to the right time.

  “And you, Ken,” she said, before pushing him away. “But we’d better not?”

  He gasped. “Oh, oh no, that isn’t…that’s not why I asked for you.” In the moment, he was just a young man again and not the king.

  She walked around to the other side of the table. The library’s rows were narrow. They didn’t seem that way when they were younger, at first because they were child-sized—when nothing seemed particularly narrow—and later because there was no imperative to keep a safe distance from one another.

  There was now, and so she put the long, thin table between them and sat in a creaky wooden chair that no doubt remembered her.

  Kenson seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say next. This never used to be a problem for him.

  “I enjoyed your speech,” she said.

  “Did you? I’m glad. You’ll be hearing it twice more. I’ll have to swap out the bits about it being the opening night, but other than that, it’s a good, durable speech.”

  “Did you write it yourself?”

  “Most of it. Drache helped. Have you met Drache?”

  “I don’t think so, no.”

  “Gifted young man. Commoner, but well-read. Highness Poj has been tutoring him. Nothing official; he has no plans to take the oath. I’ll have to introduce you.”

  “Sure.”

  Kenson paced on the other side of the table. He looked a little like a wolf who couldn’t figure out how to get past a downed log.

  “How is the Delphina working for you?” he asked. “You have everything you need?”

  “Yes, I…Ken, by the Five, what am I doing here? You know what will happen if she finds out we’re even speaking, don’t you? Please tell me I’m not here to talk about Drache the commoner and the lack of hot water in the Delphina.”

  “You don’t have hot water?”

  “Ken!”

  “Don’t worry about Porra. I’m still the king.”

  Battine laughed. “Like that would make a difference. Of course I’m worried about her; she’s terrifying. You should be too. As I recall, you used to hide when she came by.”

  “That was when she was taller than I was.”

  He sat down in the nearest chair, grinning.

  “Do you remember…what was that guard’s name? Ja…Ja…”

  “Jobbos.”

  “Jobbos! That’s it! He was so very, very stupid. Remember when we convinced him that Porra was actually cousin Erina…”

  “He had her halfway to Orch before someone stopped him,” Battine said, smiling in spite of herself. “Yes, I remember. Porra was really pissed.”

  “She didn’t talk to either of us for a year,” he said, with a fondness in his voice that was completely out of place considering he was talking about his wife.

  What he wasn’t saying was that for being so gullible, Jobbos lost his position at the castle, and his family lost its holdings. Battine knew this because Porra didn’t actually stop talking to her; she only stopped doing it in front of Kenson. And Porra knew precisely what happened to Jobbos because she was the one who made it happen. Even at age seven, Porra Alcon was a terrifying force, and yet Kenson couldn’t muster the slightest concern about crossing her.

  Batt wondered if he even knew Jobbos’s fate, or if that was a private torture just for Battine.

  “Yes,” Kenson said. His hand was drumming the table. “That was quite a time.”

  Batt reached across the table and put her hand on his, to cease the drumming and maybe to get him to stop being so flighty.

  “Ken,” she said. “Please.”

  He pulled his hand away, nodding slowly.

  “I’ve…I’ve learned some things, Battine,” he said. “I think you’re owed an apology.”

  “From you?”

  “From all of us.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “For what?”

  “For…how you are,” he said. “How things are. With you. How things ended up.”

  “What things are we talking about, Kenson? Us? You and I?”

  “If it was all different…you know.”

  He was talking to his hands now, rather than to her.

  She sighed, and got up from the table.

  “You couldn’t have,” she said. “We both know it. You were heir to the throne and I’m an unblessed; literally, the only kind of person in the nine kingdoms you positively cannot take as a bride, not unless your goal is to kill your own bloodline. It would never have been sanctioned.”

  “I know.”

  “We had this out years ago, Ken. What in Ho’s name made you think I would want to talk about it again?”

  Her eyes were tearing up, which was just aggravating. If she had her sword, she’d be swinging it through the air right now.

  “It’s not that,” he said. “Or…it is, but it isn’t. I mean that you’re owed an apology for the way you are.”

  “For being unblessed? By the Depths, you’re right: I am. But that’s a conversation I’ll be having with the Five when or if I reach the Haven. Not with one of Their Dibble incarnations. Not even with one I…”

  One I loved, was the rest of the sentence. It wasn’t something she should say out loud.

  “I’m sorry for bringing it up again,” he said. “It’s been on my mind a great deal lately.”

  “Well get it out of your mind. You should be focusing on things like, I don’t know, a child? I assume you and Porra have worked out the mechanics by now. You certainly used to know your way around.”

  “That’s why it’s on my mind. What I’ve learned…honestly, I don’t even know how to explain it to you, but…What if it wasn’t the gods? What if it was us?”

  She laughed bitterly. “Look, I don’t know what your time as king has led you to believe, Ken, but you can’t snap your fingers and turn me into an Alcon. Nobody can. You may look like Ho, but let’s not pretend. You and I abandoned that way of thinking when we were five.”

  He didn’t have an answer to that; he just sat there and stared at his hands. He had them clasped together on the table, which she realized he was doing because they were shaking.

  “There are things we were never told when we were children, Batt,” he said quietly. “Things that…it’s a secret, but it’s not. I think my father knew. I’m sure my mother did. The other eight know.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He smiled, still at his hands. “You remember that place we found, in the Great Temple?”

  “Which place?”

  “You know. Our second year. We were playing hide-and-find. You tried to confound us by taking the private stairs. It was raining that day; do you remember? The wind was terrible.”

  She was beginning to wonder about her old friend’s mental state. He seemed perfectly himself at the feast, but now he sounded completely undone.

  “I do,” she said. “You found me anyway; I never did figure out how.”

  “Your feet were damp from the rain, and you ran so much. Everywhere, all the time. You practically wore the soles right off of your shoes…there was a hole in the left the size of a dorin. When you went down you left an imprint in
the dust, so I knew it was you. I wouldn’t have gone down there if it had been anyone else.”

  “Alva was ready to throw us into the Gap,” she said. “Come on, Ken, just tell me what this is about.”

  “Another time,” Kenson said. “Hopefully I can speak more freely soon. A lot’s going to happen, and then you’ll understand.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Kenson?” Porra’s voice echoed through the library, arriving at the horticultural section several seconds before its owner.

  It wasn’t enough time for Battine to hide.

  On turning the corner, Queen Porra’s expression went on a journey from apprehension to fury so quickly, it was a wonder the muscles on her face didn’t seize up in protest.

  “Of course,” she said dryly.

  “We were just talking,” Kenson said. “Catching up.” He sounded not-at-all concerned by his wife’s tone, which only meant it was all going to be falling on Battine again.

  How did I allow myself back into this dynamic, she wondered.

  “You have…three days to catch up with Lady Delphina, my love,” Porra said. “Meanwhile, you’ve appointments to keep before retiring. Lord Aginot seeks audience, and you know…”

  “Yes, yes, I know. We must continue to slake the thirst of our northern neighbors.” He stood, looking once again like a king and not a frightened child. “We’ll take this up at a later time, Lady Delphina. My wife is right, of course; we have plenty of time.”

  He walked past Porra and disappeared around the corner of the shelves. Batt made a noble effort to follow him out, but was waylaid by the open hand of her sister.

  “Noooo, no, no, not you,” she said. “Not yet.”

  “Porra, I answered a request…”

  “Shut. Up.”

  “But this wasn’t my idea…”

  “You didn’t have to come.”

  “To Totus?” Batt said. “I agree. Why’d you invite me?”

  “To the library.”

  “My king demanded an audience.”

  Porra laughed. “You came because it was him and you’re you. At no point in your life have you respected the proper way of things; don’t feign a sudden respect for a king’s summons now. Not to me.”

  Battine sighed, and sat back down.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Porra,” she said. “You asked that I come to court…no, that’s not right. You made me swear on the body of our dead mother to come to court, and so I came. And you don’t even want me here; don’t pretend otherwise. I could have arrived as the purest approximation of an actual princess and it still wouldn’t have been enough.”

  “Your absence was an embarrassment. An oath in the sight of mother was the only way to ensure your appropriateness.”

  “Wasn’t that the whole point of giving me the Delphina? There are exiles who live closer to Castle Totus. If you need an excuse for my not appearing in court, why not just skip ahead and throw me in chains already. I understand the view from Loriz tower is quite nice.”

  Batt was kidding, but from the look on Porra’s face it was clear that this scenario had been under consideration at one time.

  “You are impossible,” Porra said.

  “And you’re just lashing out like you always do, Porra. If you two have problems they don’t stem from me because I haven’t been here. And I’m no longer the young girl who used to meet up with Ken in the library. You’re the only one who thinks otherwise.”

  “That isn’t true. When Kenson wasn’t in our quarters, I came here first. Do you know why? Because he’s always here these days. You may think you haven’t been in court, but in so many ways you’ve never left. And you’ll always be that young girl. Meanwhile, in the castle he gave you, you’re embarrassing yourself, your family and your king. Do you mean to have every peasant in your bedroom before you’re done, or have you established a rotation?”

  Battine nearly slapped the queen then. It was probably a good thing she didn’t have her sword.

  “How dare you?” she said, quietly.

  “How dare I?” Porra asked.

  “I can’t bear children, and because of that, I’ll probably never marry. My only course would have been to prefer women—and I’ve tried, I promise—or to raise cats and die alone. You have everything, Porra. Literally, everything. How dare you adjudicate my life’s choices, when so little of what’s been decided about my life was even decided by me?”

  “I don’t have everything!” Porra hissed. “I don’t have Kenson. You do. My unblessed, barren younger sister, an Alconnot deserving of nothing but pity, and you’re still who he wants. He refuses to put a child in me, Battine, did you know that? Did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “It’s true. It’s the one duty he continues to shirk, and yet it’s his most important.”

  “Maybe if you stopped calling it a duty?”

  “You hole up in the private castle he gave you, act the whore, and it makes no difference. Even when you’re here, right in front of Kenson, flirting with that outsider Fergo brought in. It still doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m done with this,” Battine said.

  She stood and tried to walk past Porra. The queen grabbed her by the arm.

  “I haven’t excused you yet,” Porra said.

  “Then I’ll be taking my leave without your permission,” Batt said, shaking free of her sister’s clutch. “But listen to me carefully: What goes on in your bedchamber is not my fault. He knows where to stick it. If you can’t make the prospect appealing for him, that’s entirely on you. This is what you wanted all these years, sister; make it work and leave me out of it. Now, evidently I’ve the role of whore to play, on orders of the queen. Expect me to be gone by morrow’s nightfall.”

  Battine stormed out of the library, down the corridor to the staircase and outside. By the time she made it through the glass-enclosed entrance, she was practically running, her only restraint on a full sprint being the dress Porra demanded she wear.

  At half past twenty, the festivities had petered out significantly. What dancing still remained was of the more staid, courtly type, rather than the boisterous group participation species of earlier. Staff was cleaning up along the perimeter and the musicians appeared to be on their final strings.

  Battine stumbled into the middle of the dance floor, out of breath, her face moist from tears and sweat. She spun in a slow circle until she spotted him.

  There you are, she thought.

  Damid Magly was in the far corner of the tent, near the stage, talking animatedly to Niea and Ouliman Zane.

  Batt pushed her way through the dance floor and dropped right into the middle of their conversation.

  “Excuse me, cousin,” she said to Niea, as she grabbed Magly by his collar and dragged him away.

  “Ah, hello,” he said.

  “Hello,” Battine said. “Come with me.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  She stopped.

  “You do,” she said. Then she kissed him for precisely long enough to ensure that everyone there saw it happen, and then long enough after that for everyone to feel awkward about continuing to bear witness.

  Although it wasn’t a requirement, Damid Magly was a good kisser, which was excellent news.

  “Your choice is to retire to your chambers alone and think about that kiss,” she said, “or help a princess out of her gods-damned dress. Which way do you lean?”

  He stepped back and looked her up and down.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “The dress looks like quite a challenge.”

  “I’ll walk you through it.”

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the castle.

  Chapter Five

  As a young woman, Battine used to work out all the possible means by which she might get a man with illicit intent into her bedchambers. The possibilities, while vast, all required some form of skullduggery, so as not to alert her mother or sister or any cousins, uncles, aunts o
r grandparents. Also, the palace guard couldn’t know because they answered to the king, who would tell her parents, and so on.

  Nobody, really, could be trusted with the knowledge of Battine’s purely hypothetical paramour. Hence the skullduggery.

  She focused for some time on the only entrance she really knew well, i.e., the bedroom door. The windows were out of the question, as her bedchambers had been on the third floor of the castle. The only thing tall enough to reach the window was the castle wall, which was five hundred maders away, and taking a rope down from the roof wouldn’t go unnoticed, as the roof had lights on it. A ladder off the side of an airship might reach the window, except that an incursion via airship was the precise reason the roof had lights.

  So, the bedroom door had to be it. It was not independently guarded; the palace guard patrolled the living quarters, certainly, but didn’t put one guard on each door. It was a system designed to be foiled.

  Although never executed, her plans involved everything from taking advantage of various palace guard’s tendencies—which ones lingered, when and where—to creating a distraction like a fire or a small riot.

  She didn’t consider other entrances—didn’t even imagine they existed—until the day she realized the chambermaids didn’t use the front door or the window to get in. They just…appeared.

  Or so it seemed. Servant doors leading to passageways in the walls, it turned out, were hidden all over the castle. This was how Battine would sneak her hypothetical ardor-stricken gentleman caller into her bedchamber.

  She never did use the servant passageways for such a purpose, but just knowing they existed opened up a whole new world of mischief, both for her and the boy who definitely would have stolen into her bedroom had she asked. By the time she and Kenson were of an age to get to know one another that way, they’d also discovered entire sections of the castle that were perpetually unoccupied, rendering the secret passages moot.

  Many years later, Battine realized all that planning was completely unnecessary if she didn’t care who saw her bringing a man into her bedchamber.