Sorrows of Adoration

by Kimberly Chapman

  Murmurs of disbelief overtook the crowd, and several shouts were called out that the Council would never approve such a thing.

  I regained their attention and said, “Don’t worry yourselves about the Council or the funding or the design and materials for now. That shall be my duty. What I require of you first is approval. I won’t march into your lives and tear down your homes if you believe my notions to be flawed. I do not wish to be a source of consternation. Secondly, I need from you all a commitment to work with me. The Council certainly will not approve an enormous budget that includes an external labour force. I will need men to drag stone and build walls and homes. I will need strong women to pack and move belongings. I need you all to help in this.

  “Now, I shall give you a week to discuss and debate this issue amongst yourselves. In seven days, if you wish me to go ahead, send three of your number to represent you and bring ideas of what will be needed. One should be a merchant, one should be a woman, and the third should be someone known as a leader amongst you. I want to have every consideration raised so that you all can live better for it. If you have any questions in the meantime, appoint a single messenger to bring them to me. Do not be afraid to ask what you need to know.”

  The crowd began to chatter excitedly as I stepped down from the crate. I returned it to the merchant who had loaned it to me. Jarik and the guards escorted me out of the east end, and as we went I heard shouts and calls of “Praise to the Queen!” and “May the Gods bless you, Good Queen Aenna!” I could not help feeling a swell of pride. I knew this plan would work. I could feel it in my heart.

  We were no sooner out of sight of them when Jarik put his hands on my shoulders, stopping me, and angrily said, “Are you mad?”

  “What do you mean? Kurit has already heard the plan and he said—”

  “I care not for your plan nor its legitimacy, Aenna. What you did back there was very foolish!” The man was furious. “Standing before those people like that, inviting them to kill you on the spot! What in the name of the Gods were you thinking?”

  “Those people are no threat to me, Jarik!” I retorted. “Those are my people! You will do well to remember that I share a background with them, and they are all aware of it. The attempt on my life came from a woman of nobility, one of your world. Even the threat from Daufrae came not from the poor but a nobleman. I feel safer amongst rabble who call praises to my name than I do in the midst of the quiet hatred and cold stares of those who held Sashken dear.”

  I stormed away from him, but he had had quite enough of my tendency to do so as of late and grabbed my arm to stop me. “I can’t allow you to go off and be hurt by the one in the rabble who disagrees with you.”

  When I glared at him, Jarik sighed, and the angry look on his face faded to one of concern. “Aenna, usually you are very wise. Forgive me for saying it, but in this you are being foolish. Yes, most of those people would not dare to harm you and likely have no desire to do anything of the sort. But you know yourself that there are some poor who are poor because they are not of sound mind. All it takes is one of those slow-headed half-wits to do something rash, and you could be dead. Now, it’s my duty to protect you, and I can’t do that if you’re determined to leave yourself openly exposed.”

  I sighed myself, knowing that he was right. I had been so enthusiastic that I had wanted to push aside any threat or chance that the plan would fail. “I’m sorry, Jarik,” I said. “You’re right. I should not have mocked you as I did. Will you forgive me?”

  “I care not for what you said. I care only for your safety.”

  I put my arm in his as we walked again. “What if I were to wear armour?”

  “Armour? Aenna, really,” he said disapprovingly.

  “Yes, really. What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s unbecoming for a lady. Oh, I know, you’ll tell me you’re not like the other ladies, and I know it well. But I don’t think you realize how difficult it is to wear armour. It’s hot, heavy, and uncomfortable.”

  “You wear it day in and day out, Jarik. I’m sure I could manage a few hours per day.”

  “I’ve been wearing it since I was a boy. And I’m twice your size.”

  “Then you have to wear nearly twice the weight. If I had armour made for myself, it would be much smaller than yours. And it need not be full armour. A vest of hard leather will do.”

  He looked at me in earnest. “Leather armour might protect you against an awkwardly thrown blade, but certainly not against the bolt of a crossbow or someone lunging at you with a knife.”

  “And your chain mail would be insufficient protection against bolts as well.”

  “First of all, that’s not entirely true, and second, you’re missing the point. The purpose of armour is to be a last wall of defence for a warrior, not protection in and of itself. It’s meant to keep you reasonably unhurt from a blow that you’ve already attempted to deflect. The only armour that really gives any protection on its own is heavy plate, and you simply wouldn’t be able to bear wearing that. You’d be unable to stand upright with that much metal about you, and even if you could, you’d surely cook inside it. I am made weary myself by wearing it and have only ever done so as training. It’s meant for men who are storming a fort or castle, not for Queens out on the town.”

  We had arrived back at the gate to the palace. I stopped him and stated, “Jarik, I am not going to stop this plan, and I am not going to manage it from the background where I cannot even behold with my own eyes how it unfolds. Now you’re trying very hard to frighten me away with talk of brutal weapons and unpleasant armour, and I understand that you do so out of concern. But the fact is I am going out there again until a threat makes itself known. So you can either help me and recommend what sort of protection I ought to be wearing, or you can run yourself ragged trying to drag me back to the palace day in and day out.”

  He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. As he considered my words, I watched his ever-attentive eyes dart about as people passed us on all sides. I had no doubt that he was acutely aware of every movement around me, always ready to leap between me and danger.

  Eventually he said, “I suppose we could have a breastplate made for you. That ought to deflect any direct blow and give you some protection against being crushed or otherwise injured from an impact. But that won’t help if someone aims for your head. I still do not like the idea, and you do of course realize this will give Kasha and those who disdain you more fodder for their bitterness.”

  I nodded. “I know, and I care not for their opinions. I shall take your advice and wear what you suggest. And, as compromise, I shall ensure I am at all times surrounded by several guards, all of whom will be specifically trained and instructed to watch for any suspicious movements. You shall be at my side at all times as well. Furthermore, I promise to be responsible and not to go running off into a crowd alone or any such thing. That provides me with several layers of defence and still allows me to do what I must. And I’ll even promise you now that if someone should try to harm me, I will cease to make a personal appearance out there and instead manage everything from behind these walls,” I said, pointing to the palace.

  He nodded slowly. “Agreed,” he said. “But only if you promise to let us protect you. Aenna, it drives me mad to chase after you as I did today. I can’t concentrate on watching those around you if I’m too busy trying to ascertain where you are yourself.”

  “I promise,” I said, smiling at him. I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek just before we entered the gate.

  “And don’t do that out here, either,” he said. “It starts rumours and …”

  “And what?”

  A look of concern was on his face as we went up the steps to the main doors. When we reached the top, he leaned close to me and quietly said, “And I cannot properly concentrate after you … after you do that.”

  I stopped in my tracks, feeling a slight blush rise. He took my arm and said, “Come inside. In these walls we are close frien
ds. Outside we are Queen and Champion.”

  I let him escort me to my workroom. When he left me alone there, I sat for some time with a fast-beating heart and a thousand thoughts of what to do about him. It was clear to me that I could not condemn his obvious affection, for I needed and cared for him too much. He had not done anything untoward, nor had he ever behaved with anything but nobility and honour. Yet clearly he had feelings beyond those of a friend and had to feel some degree of the sadness of unrequited love.

  Although, to be truthful, it was not entirely unrequited. He was, after all, my dearest friend, and I loved him as such. I knew very well that any attempt to discuss this with him would embarrass him and no doubt cause him to become distant. I couldn’t bear that thought. So, I selfishly decided to push the issue from my mind and go on as his friend, hoping that he would have the sense to rid himself of whatever affections burned in his mind.

  * * *

  A young boy, surely no older than ten, was sent to me several times over the next week bearing questions from the people of the east end. He had difficulty remembering all of the questions the first time, so I assigned an apprentice scribe to meet with the peasants and write their questions down for them.

  Many of the questions were born of worry, and I answered them kindly with reassurance. It bothered me that these people thought the nobility were so eager to take advantage of them, but I understood their hesitations well. There were other questions, some particularly insightful ones that I had not considered. These, too, I answered, and as I wrote I had another scribe copy for my own records every document that went back and forth.

  When seven days had passed, I was informed that a company of three ragged folk, claiming to have been invited, had asked to see me. I had the guards usher them into the Great Hall, where I sat on my throne to hear them. I had wanted to appear less imperial and meet with them in my workroom, but Jarik would not allow it. He feared that one of them could use the opportunity to harm me and insisted that, until I had worked with them long enough to know them well, I was to meet only in public, surrounded by guards. Of course, he stood right at my side, eyeing the three carefully.

  There were two men and one woman. The woman’s name was Oana. She was a mother of two small children, and her husband had died two winters previously of a fever that I learned had killed many in the east end. She worked one day a week as a maid in a nobleman’s home, only on the night that his usual maid was not working. Oana had about her that roughened, tired look typical of peasants, but her eyes burned with sufficient wisdom to understand her lot in life was brutally unfair. I liked her in an instant.

  One of the men was named Nikal. He was a merchant of clothing, but said he could not earn a decent living trying to sell quality garments in the east end and thus had been reduced to selling recycled rags that his wife tailored to the best of her ability. He was tall and thin, with oddly long fingers that he tapped together whilst in thought. I could tell he doubted that an improved marketplace would help him, but he was polite and interested in giving the plan a try.

  The other man, Druin, was an absolute delight. He had the natural charisma of a leader, and had he not been born into a poor family and subsequently orphaned at the tender age of eight, he surely would have been a well-respected nobleman. He was uneducated, as were most of these poor folk, but what he lacked in schooling he made up many times in a knack for logic. He was tall and thin like Nikal but much more handsome. Druin was one of those men who never fails to make those around him laugh with odd little jests and a winning smile. He reminded me a great deal of what Kurit had once been like, and the thought saddened me. But the good fellow made it difficult to stay melancholy, so I set aside my heartache and set about planning the expansion project.

  As the season passed from fall into early winter, I met frequently with Oana, Nikal, and Druin, and it was not long before Jarik could be persuaded to allow us to do so in my workroom. I also went on several day-long trips outside Endren, with Jarik always at my side, to inquire about various materials. I met with two different quarry owners, both of whom were willing to bargain for a good price on the white stone. My prediction was correct in that there had been little call for it in recent years.

  I buried myself in my work as eagerly as Kurit drowned himself in drink—a habit that had not waned after all, and one he no longer bothered to hide from me. During this time, I became aware that his mother often badgered him where I was concerned. I overheard snippets of conversation in which she would lecture him on how he should better control my wild ways and my “ridiculous predilection for throwing money away to the wretches of Endren”.

  Occasionally, he would tell her to be quiet, but more often than not, he said nothing. Meanwhile, his increased frustration with her led him to become cold and distant towards me. I made the choice to not brood over what seemed to be a dying marriage and instead applied all my energy to being with my son and working on my project.

  By the time of the mid-winter semi-annual Council meeting, I had a full plan ready to present. I had budgeted for materials, skilled labour, and every other cost I could imagine. I had a specific timetable that provided allowances for minor delays such as inclement weather. I thought I was prepared for every possible question or doubt that the Council would have. I was sadly mistaken.

  I sat quietly through most of the meeting, not wanting to raise trouble on any other issue, lest I anger one of the lords and lead him to vote against me later. When Kurit finally indicated that I might go ahead with my presentation to them, I had barely begun when the immediate prejudice against the poor made itself painfully clear.

  “Most charitable Majesty,” said Lord Bresh of Odlok, “while we respect your noble intent to help these pathetic people, surely you cannot expect us to approve any extensive building that benefits them alone?”

  “Indeed,” said Lord Kalren of Estebek, nodding. “We all pity their situation, but to waste money on such people is not in the best interest of Endren, let alone the entire nation.”

  “Is it better, then, to do nothing while people in our very capital struggle needlessly?” I asked.

  “No one disputes that it is a tragedy that some are born into poverty, Your Majesty,” said Lord Kiene of Asune. “But if you give a dog too many thick steaks that he has not earned, he will become disobedient and no longer be satisfied with just a bone.”

  I looked at him incredulously. “Lord Kiene, these are human beings, not dogs.”

  “Majesty, that line is a blurred one at best,” said Bresh.

  It took all that I had not to burst out in anger. How could such otherwise intelligent men be so absurd? I forced my voice to be low and unwavering as I said, “I am aghast that you would dare to say such a thing, Lord Bresh. Tell me, do you have your maids tied up at night to prevent them from running away?”

  Bresh rolled his eyes at me, infuriating me anew, but again I forced myself to remain calm. I knew I’d have no chance of winning them over if I became hysterical. He said, “Majesty, of course not. But copious amounts of money will not inspire these people to better themselves.”

  “She’s not talking about simply throwing money at the problem, Bresh,” said Lord Cael. “Perhaps if you would do Her Majesty the courtesy of allowing her to at least present her full proposal to us, you would better be able to discuss the matter.”

  “Well, at least we know you’re not biased, Cael,” said Kalren acidly. “You northerners have the oddest notions about how to run a nation. I hear you pay for physicians for the poor in Staelorn and the training of orphans in Academies instead of workhouses.”

  “Don’t include me with their plans,” Kiene quickly said.

  The Council quickly broke down after that into petty territorial bickering until Kurit shouted over them to be quiet. “Enough! Let Aenna have her say; then we shall discuss the feasibility of her plans.”

  After that rough start, I found I had to work diligently at sounding confident. I made eye contact most often
with Cael, who favoured me frequently with subtle smiles and nods. Lady Aelwin also listened politely, though most of the others seemed ready to scoff.

  As I concluded, I steadied myself for the inevitable onslaught of disapproval. To my great delight, Chancellor Kren spoke up with admiration and interest. “It’s high time someone did something about the east end,” he said. “Even if your notions of a better market fail to come to fruition, at least the greater space will make it easier for the guards to keep an eye on things. Crime in that area has become unmanageable. And I am glad to hear that you have planned to build the new wall before tearing down the old. That is a wise course.”

  “Chancellor, I respect that you wish to improve your own city, but I cannot understand how you expect us to pay for it,” said Bresh. “Kordolos needs improvements as well. We have a poor area, and I don’t see anyone rushing to fix it

  “When my plan is proven successful, Lord Bresh, I would be delighted to help you all apply it to other cities as you see fit,” I said eagerly. “It would please me greatly to do so. This is not solely for the benefit of the poor of Endren. This is a proposal to bring opportunity for prosperity to everyone in Keshaerlan. As one city is improved and the local economy with it, we will be better able to afford improvements to the next city, and so on to the next. I’m not requesting charity. I’m requesting the chance to help these people help themselves.”

  “What makes you think they’ll take the opportunity?” asked Bresh. “We all know very well that the poor are poor because they lack the wit and desire to work for a proper living.”

  My blood boiled, but I bit my tongue.

  “Think carefully about what you say, Bresh,” Cael growled. “Your words border on treason.”

  “Treason?” asked the Odlok Lord. “To speak the truth that the poor make their own lot in life? Pah! You’re only defending this nonsense because you’re partial to a fellow Aleshan.”

  Cael thumped his fist down on the table. “A fellow Aleshan that you would have formerly dismissed as witless and lazy, by your prejudice.”