by Samuel Fort
Chapter 38: Lilian’s Slide
“You are late,” said Lilian unhappily when Persipia stepped into the suite. Though it was evening, the queen still wore her clothes from earlier in the day - a white blouse and black skirt. Her hair was still coifed above her head with a gold pin.
The other woman, wearing only a thin silk robe, was surprised at the remark. It had been only minutes since she had been summoned. “I came as soon as Miss Fetch told me-”
“Then how is it that Miss Fetch has already returned to tell me that you had acknowledged my command and has since left to attend to her other duties?”
Persipia didn’t understand the question. “I was only…only…” She could not find the words. She could not even remember the question. The knot in her stomach grew as she lowered her eyes to the floor.
“Persipia,” said Lilian harshly, “If a fetch appears and tells you that I have summoned you, you should be racing her up the stairs.”
Persipia spied the bamboo rod with the ivory handle that had been placed on the bed. Cold pinpricks crawled up her arms. “I’m sorry, Annasa,” she said, “I did not think-”
“Did not think?” interrupted Lilian. “Do not burden yourself. I have horses in the stables smarter than you.”
The woman’s words were slurred, and Persipia smelled the bourbon before she saw the half-emptied glass in the queen’s hand. Persipia clamped her hands together in front of her to conceal their trembling. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Lilian crossed her arms without releasing the glass. In an absurdly loud and mocking tone induced by her inebriation, she said, “Yet I am still waiting.”
Persipia moved quickly to the center of the large room and dropped her robe, which she hastily kicked away. She stood as motionless as a statue.
“Persipia,” said the queen from somewhere behind her, “who was your mother?”
“Lady Del, Annasa,” recited the other woman. She knew what was expected of her. The lines had been burned into her mind.
“Lady Del, the traitor,” Lilian said loudly. “Lady Del, who kneeled before Lord Moros when I had offered her refuge in my kingdom. The kingdom stolen from my father. Lady Del who surrendered herself to a man whose soldiers nearly killed my sister and who openly mocked my father. You are her issue.”
“Yes,” said Persipia, not really listening. She knew the charges in all their variations by heart.
There was more movement. “She was a wretch, was she not?”
“Yes, Annasa.”
“And you are your wretched mother’s daughter.”
Sniffling, the woman said, “Yes, Annasa.”
The woman behind her slammed an empty glass onto the dresser’s surface. “Say it!”
Persipia took in a deep breath. You will not cry, she told herself. You will not cry. You will not beg for mercy. She said, “I am my wretched mother’s daughter.”
A second later she felt the burn. She yelled, then whimpered.
“Very good,” said the queen. “It feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Annasa.”
“Go ahead then.”
Her upper lip quivering, Persipia said, “I am my wretched mother’s daughter.”
Again the high-pitched whooshing sound, again the burn. Persipia clenched her fists in an effort to keep her hands at her sides.
Strong? I’m trying to convince myself that I’m strong? When confronted with Lilitu? Drunk?
The queen came into view and lifted the terrified woman’s chin. “Someday,” she said, exhaling the bourbon’s fumes into the woman’s face, “you may have children of your own, if I allow it. Remember these punishments, Persipia. Remember what it is like to be the child of such a worthless hag as Lady Del. To know that for her sins and your own you could spend practically every night of your life naked and crying before me, cursing her name. You will not allow this to happen to your child, will you?”
“No, Annasa,” gasped the other woman, shaking her head violently.
Lilian smiled sourly. “Good.”
Twenty minutes later Persipia finally fell to her knees, and then to her side, and it was done. Lilian, satisfied that the capitulation was true, dropped the rod to the floor and half-stumbled toward the bed. Collapsing backward onto the mattress, the queen said in an oddly quiet voice, “The newcomer, Porazo, is trying my patience.”
Persipia, struggling to regain her composure, rose to her knees. “I am sorry to hear that, Annasa.”
Long minutes passed.
“I miss my family,” Lilian said at last. “I do not like it here without my husband or sister. It is very lonely, don’t you think?”
“I am here,” Persipia said, feeling foolish.
“Oh yes,” replied Lilian, waving a hand in the air. She sounded truly apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way. You are a fine companion, Persy. I speak only of family.”
“Yes, Annasa.”
Lilian rose groggily to her elbows. “I’m sorry. I’m a little drunk. Were my blows true? I do not want to damage you.”
Persipia shivered. “They were true,” she replied.
“Good. Come here and comfort me.”
Lilian’s mood darkened the following afternoon. The snow storm had caused Steepleguard’s radios to go silent days ago. Even then, the reports from what had once been Nebraska were not promising. The weather had turned against the Peth trying to rescue the king and Vedeus, dumping a foot of heavy, wet snow on the ground. Not only did this make the soldiers and horses miserable, it made it difficult for them to gain traction as they tried to move vehicles and large rocks from where the Peth believed the cave entrance to be. Two feet of new snow had obfuscated the location of the cave-in.
The only promising update had been that an old, functional tractor had been found, but even that good news was mitigated by the report that an engine belt had broken and a new one was being sought.
Had the Red Guard been trapped by the snow storm? Or were they even now helping to rescue the king? Lilian had no way of knowing until the storm allowed radio communications. Of course, things would only get worse once Fiela arrived and found Ben buried alive. She would be beyond livid. She would radio Lilian full of hate, hurling angry accusations at her.
You did this! You killed him! You sent him away! You hid the truth from me! I despise you!
It was a confrontation Lilian dreaded every minute of every day. Fiela would never forgive her. Then there were the rumors about Ben and Thal and what they did behind the closed doors of the king’s study. There were rumors that she, Lilian, had lost her talents at seduction, and that her beauty was failing her, and that the king was seeking comfort elsewhere. There were rumors that Fiela had fallen under Thal’s spell. There were rumors that Ben, Thal, and even Fiela were together in a secret hideaway, making love and plotting how best to rid themselves of the unwanted daughter of Sargon.
A tear formed at the corner of one of the queen’s emerald eyes. She wiped it way. The nobles grumbled a bit less now that their full rations of wine and food had been restored to them, but Porazo had yet to fulfill his end of the bargain. He had not publicly endorsed Lilian’s plan to reintroduce rationing. He said that he would “when the time was right.” She now doubted if that time would ever come.
As she entered the dining room, seeking solace in a fourth – or fifth? – glass of wine, she was approached by the Duke of the Ordunas and two members of his faction.
“Good evening, Annasa.”
“Good evening, your Grace,” she replied without enthusiasm, waiting for a fetch to pour the wine.
“Might I have a word with you?”
The woman sighed. “Be quick about it.”
The man ran a bony hand through his slick, thinning hair and said, “Is there any word from the Red Guard?”
“No. There is no world from Lord Disparthian’s force, either. We cannot even communicate with our outposts. This storm is blocking all attempts.”
“Ah. Let us hope that it clears up soon.”
Once her glass was full, Lilian consumed half its contents without coming up for air. When she did, she said, “Duke, it is hardly a secret that you want my sister on the throne instead of me, just as it is no secret she does not want it. I promise you, if I drink myself to death before she returns, the throne will be hers.”
“Pardon me, Annasa, but I question whether that is possible.”
Lilian took a step back, found a chair, and sat. “Really? Why is that?”
The man looked at her and saw the weariness and intoxication. For the first time since he had known the woman, she had bags under her eyes.
She is growing weak.
He said, “It has not gone unnoticed that Annasa Fiela was dispatched with great urgency the night our king was allegedly trapped in a mine.”
“A cave, Duke, not a mine.” The woman finished off the wine and squinted at the man “What do you mean, ‘allegedly?’”
“I mean ‘allegedly trapped.’ Not killed. Trapped.”
“Your point?”
Clearing his throat and exchanging glances with his younger comrades, the duke said, “If the king were merely trapped, it would be, for the moment, inconsequential. But if he were killed, Annasa Fiela would immediately take your place as the senior queen. You, of course, would be executed because of your father’s mark.”
Lilian placed an elbow on the table and rested her chin in one palm, looking bored. “My husband is not dead.”
“You have said so. Yet, an hour after you learned the king was trapped, Annasa Fiela was seen leaving Steepleguard in high spirits. That strikes me as very odd. Why should she be so happy at hearing her husband was trapped in a cave?”
Lilian did not feel she was obligated to explain. “What of it?”
After exchanging more glances with the men around him, the bony noble said, “She did not know of that night’s radio transmission, did she? You dispatched her without telling her anything about it. You sent her away.”
“So?”
“Annasa, that is exactly what might be expected if you were, in fact, told the king was dead. You would send her away before she could learn the truth and assert her rights. You might even send her to her death.”
“That is a bold claim, your Grace.”
The man gave the queen a disproving look. “It is remarkably convenient for you that the king is trapped and not dead, is it not? As long as he is believed to be alive, the mark against you cannot be executed. Thus, your actions the night Annasa Fiela and my daughter departed are quite suspect, as is your insistence the king is trapped and not dead. That is why I wonder if the girl queen, or my daughter, will ever return. It would be better for you if they did not, just as it would be better for you if the king was trapped but not dead.”
Lilian stood up and snarled, “You accuse me of harming my sister?”
“Not at all. I say only that your actions are suspect and that the gods have been oddly cooperative with you as of late.”
Her anger sobering her, Lilian seethed, “The gods have pissed on me as of late! I can have you strung up and gutted for such talk!”
“I think not,” said the man, unconcerned. “My opinion is shared with many others. We long suspected something like this might happen and now it has. If you moved against me, it would only add credence to our position and gain us more supporters. Besides - you can’t. You cannot execute or even imprison a noble, not while the king is ‘alive.’ You must await his judgment. As I am quite certain the king is dead, killing me is a privilege you will never enjoy.”
Looking almost apologetic, the man said, “I hold no particular grudge against you, Lilitu. I was content to serve you as long as you were kept in check by the Ardoon king and the girl queen ruled at your side. But if you have sent Annasa Fiela and my daughter to their death, you must be my enemy.”
“Ogre!” screamed Lilian, stumbling as she moved to slap the man. He deflected the blow easily, even making a point to steady the woman to prevent her from falling.
As he helped her upright, the duke whispered urgently in her ear, “A coup is underway. Swear that my daughter is alive.”
Lilian swayed, squinting at her old enemy. He stared back at her intently.
She nodded. “Alive,” she said weakly.
Hobuk searched her eyes before giving an almost imperceptible nod.
Then he released her and left the room, his cronies following him.
