Kamen got right in Tivanel’s face. “I know that? How do I know that? How am I supposed to know that? Your law may not recognize it, but she’s my legal concubine, and we’re here in my lands. And my laws are older than yours.”
“That may be true.” Tivanel’s green eyes remained cool, his expression calm. “But is concubine enough for her? She’s going to outlive you. She has a lifespan twenty times yours, and you plan to leave her with no more than the memory of having been your concubine?”
Tivanel was right, and the realization struck Kamen like a blow. But the only outward sign of his distress was a slight twitch of his eye. He would not give his foe the satisfaction of seeing his pain. Ajalira would outlive him, and when his bones were nothing but dust, she would still be in the bloom of youth. When he was not even a memory anymore, she would still be beautiful. Kamen’s heart sank into his stomach.
“Why now?” Kamen would not be defeated. He looked at Saerileth, but he could not read her impassivity. She was the perfect Lotus, and he would get no help from her. This was his problem, alone.
Tivanel poured himself a cup of cold water. “Why now what?”
“You despised Ajalira before for being trained as a Lotus. Why the change of heart?”
“I made my judgment in haste, but when I learned how she sold herself into prostitution to save her mother’s life, she showed her Tamari heart. Her honor is above reproach, as is her chastity. But she must be reclaimed and the noble crown of ‘wife’ set upon her brow. It’s time for her to come home.”
Home. Where was her home? Kamen thought it was with him. Ajalira had been driven from her homeland by assassins and raised by the Zenji. And now she was concubine to the Sunjaa Regent. Where was her home if not with Kamen? He loved her more than any other, and he was sure she loved him equally. Her mother was dead, her family slaughtered, so all she had left in the world were her little brother, whom she had just met, and Kamen. But would Kamen be enough for her? He would be dead, and she would live on for centuries. Why keep her from her home and from her people? What did it matter, the few short years they would have together?
For a brief moment, Kamen considered resigning the regency and giving it over to Darien. Then he would be free to take Ajalira away to the Vadal lands and marry her. Saerileth and Darien could handle the kingdom until Jahen was of age.
“Why not ask her?” Tivanel asked, gesturing to the door.
Kamen spun around to see Ajalira and little Kaelmoro coming in through a side door that did not lead to the main audience hall. For security reasons, Kaelmoro would be kept secret until the moment of the coronation. For all anyone knew, Tivanel Seranimesti was going to be crowned the Ausir King.
When Kamen saw the way Ajalira smiled at him, he forgot all his worries. She loved him, and he her. That was enough for any lifetime, no matter how long or short.
“What are you two talking about?” Ajalira sat Kaelmoro—who was dressed in the green and black of the Tamari royal house—down on a divan and came over to Kamen, taking his hand and kissing him on the cheek.
Kamen loved her for her direct speech, a refreshing change from all the court niceties and double dealing. A person always knew where he stood with Ajalira, so he knew that her answer to Tivanel would be the truth.
“Tivanel wants to marry you,” Kamen said, deciding to be as blunt as Ajalira.
Ajalira’s eyes widened, and she switched her grip from Kamen’s hand to his arm. She squeezed his elbow as she addressed the Seranimesti lord. “I cannot marry you. I am my lord’s own.”
Tivanel set down his cup and walked over to the couple. He bowed low to Ajalira. “Your honor does you justice, and your heart, even in this, is pure.”
Kamen narrowed his eyes. There was no way Tivanel was giving up that easily.
“I don’t mean to distress you,” Tivanel continued, “but I will wait for you.” He looked at Kamen and then back to Ajalira. “Once you are … free again, I ask you to consider me. I will restore you to your proper high place among the Ausir, and you will have no equal. Your brother will be King, and you will be the wife of the noblest house of our people.”
Kamen’s heart pounded, and he could hardly look at Ajalira. He did not doubt her love for him or that she would stay with him forever. But his forever was not her forever. What would she do after his death?
“I thank you for your offer, Lord Seranimesti,” Ajalira said with a low Zenji bow, “but I must decline.”
Tivanel’s mouth fell open. “But—”
Ajalira raised her hand. “Please, Lord Seranimesti. It injures your nobility to beg.”
Tivanel’s pale Ausir flesh flushed red, and Kamen laughed inwardly. His dear Ajalira destroyed Tivanel with a word, and the Ausir lord could not hide his shame. Such was not the case with the Sunjaa. Black was the best hue, for it scorned to bear another hue.
“There is no shame in your desire,” Ajalira said, “for Lotuses are highly sought all over the world.”
Another perfect jab.
“Consider this.” Ajalira swayed on her feet, but Kamen caught her.
“Are you all right, my love?” Kamen lifted her off her feet and set her down next to her brother who had been watching the conversation with silent interest.
“I am fine.” Ajalira took the cup of water Tivanel offered her.
Kamen just wanted the overbearing Seranimesti gone.
“As I was saying,” Ajalira said after taking a long, slow drink, “consider this: I will give you my daughter to marry.”
“Daughter?” Kamen and Tivanel said simultaneously.
Saerileth massaged Ajalira’s shoulders, and Kamen detected the slightest smile curve her lips. She already knew.
Kamen knelt before his concubine and look her hands in his. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.” Ajalira leaned forward and kissed his dark brow. “I was going to tell you after the coronation.”
“Chiel and Elendrie watch over you.” Kamen rubbed his hands up her arms and then stopped. Was he touching her too roughly? What did she need? What could he do for her? “I will take you away from here. I will marry you, and you will be my wife, and we will be happy, and our children will be happy forever.”
Ajalira laid a finger on his lips to stop his babbling. “No, Kamen. You are the Itenu lord, and your responsibilities are here.”
“But what about us?”
“Us? Are we not happy together?”
Kamen glanced up at Tivanel. His words still rang in his mind like a death knell, but Kamen was happy that Ajalira was now speaking in Sunjaa. At least the damned horned Ausir devil could not understand them.
Ajalira seemed to be able to read Kamen’s thoughts as easily as little Kaelmoro. “Running away to marry a foreign woman is forbidden by Sunjaa law. I would not have my lord and master turn criminal for me. And I am grateful to prove my love for you. I am your concubine, and you are my lord. I am content.” She looked over her shoulder at Saerileth, and the Lotus nodded back to her.
Darien and Saerileth had made it work, so Kamen and Ajalira would, too. For as long as they had together.
A pounding sound echoed through the room causing everyone to rise. The King approached. There was so much Kamen wanted to say to Ajalira, for his heart was heavy with the thought of their eventual separation, but now was not the time.
King Jahen entered the room attended by a score of slaves. He was decked as a King, with a long, black wig of perfect curls on his head and a shawl-necklace of gold resting on his thin, boyish chest. Everyone bowed.
Jahen, dressed in the long white skirts for Sunjaa males, strode across the room to stand by Kamen. He looked up into his Regent’s eyes before he spoke. “I have been told that you understand our tongue.”
Kaelmoro stepped forward away from his sister. “I do. Thank you, Your Grace, for your hospitality and protection.”
“It is my pleasure,” Jahen said. “I have every confidence that you will restore order and peace to your realm,
and our friendship will lead to the mutual benefit of our nations.”
Kamen could not be more proud of his protégé, speaking every bit like a true King.
“Today begins an alliance that will not break as long as kings like us rule,” Kaelmoro said. “But history repeats itself, and man soon forgets the mistakes of his forebears.”
That caveat disturbed Kamen. Kings were supposed to be politicians who spoke sugar in their peers’ ears, but Kaelmoro’s sad eyes troubled him. There was some deep sorrow in the boy that knew no depths. He had lost his mother to a man whom he had considered a father. And he had killed that man in retribution. But Kamen remembered Kaelmoro’s song. He had been melancholy even before he discovered the truth. Something deeper. Perhaps it was his education, or perhaps it was his ability to read thoughts and detect emotions.
Kamen studied the soon-to-be Ausir King. If Kamen were constantly swimming in other people’s anger, lust, and secrets, he would have become a mental idiot years ago. He admired the boy his fortitude.
****
Jahen’s main audience hall was filled with all the Fihdal, Vadal, and Ausir dignitaries in Arinport. It was the first time Kamen had seen all the factions together in the same room. The Seranimesti faction stood on the right side of the hall, their white banner with its red rose prominent among its allies’ flags. The Kimereth stood on the left, and Ansim stood proudly next to his family’s banner, a flag of blue with a silver fish in the middle.
Kamen stood near Jahen’s throne and watched everyone file in and present themselves to King Jahen. Ajalira stood on the King’s other side and interpreted. Everyone was posturing; all of them were suspicious under their false smiles. Kamen was back in his element, and his mind raced, expecting anything.
“We’re ready, Your Grace,” Kamen said, bowing to his King.
Jahen nodded. “Welcome, one and all, to Arinport,” he said to his assembled guests, and all conversation in the hall ceased. “We have gathered here to embrace peace and harmony with the hope that what we build here today our children’s children will enjoy and continue.”
Ansim Kimereth whispered something behind his hand to his kinsman, and they both chuckled. Something about how long Ausir live, no doubt. Jahen stumbled in his speech, and he looked at Kamen. Kamen wanted to kill that Kimereth bastard on the spot. Not only had he committed regicide and tried to have Kamen killed, but now he disrespected the Sunjaa King?
“Go on, Your Grace,” Kamen whispered to Jahen.
“Therefore,” Jahen said, “the Sunjaa Crown will lend its strength to the Ausir one and place upon the Norivean throne a King worthy of the office.”
Tall, muscular, bare-chested slaves tugged at the large double doors at the end of the hall and pulled them open. An honor guard of Seranimesti warriors entered the room two abreast, the lead ones bearing the Seranimesti colors. Then came Tivanel in a white tabard. He held his chin up and looked straight ahead, walking in measured steps toward the throne. As far as everyone knew, he was to be King.
Kimereth whispered behind his hand again to his kinsman, and they both stared at Tivanel in open contempt. They might accept a Seranimesti King now, but they had disposed of the Tamari. They would do it again.
Kamen shook his head. It would be so much easier if he could just order Ansim dragged off and executed.
Tivanel walked to the center of the hall with his honor guard and stopped. He swiveled on one foot and stood facing Kimereth. Then, with his hand on his belt near his sword pommel, he said in a loud voice, “Make way for the King, Ellon Tamar’s heir, scion of House Tamar, the last of the Khajira blood and rightful lord of all Ausir, both Tamari and Larenai alike.” With that last part, he looked directly at Ansim.
Confused, whispered conversations broke out all over the room, and Kamen watched Kimereth carefully. Ansim followed Tivanel’s gaze to the open doors.
Kaelmoro looked so small when he walked into the throne room, but he wore the Tamar colors well. On his tabard was blazoned a long, black spear with a gold tip on a green field. Gasps accompanied his appearance, and though the men of the Vadal and Fihdal kingdoms were nothing more than confused, the Ausir were enraged. Even the Seranimesti rushed forward, but Tivanel held them back with an upraised hand. He had not even told his own kinsmen.
“Who is this impostor?” Ansim Kimereth cried out above the din.
“Ellon Tamar’s heir,” Tivanel said, “and last of the Khajira blood, as I just said.”
“Impossible!” Ansim’s face was mottled with rage. “They were all killed.”
“Yes, by you,” Kaelmoro said, and the calm of his serious voice silenced the chamber.
“What did you say?” Ansim took a threatening step forward, and his kinsmen surrounded him.
At that moment, Kamen wished he had made the Ausir disarm before the ceremony, but they had all thrown such a fit about being in proper military attire. Such were the ways of the Ausir, apparently. Kamen stepped in front of Jahen, took the King’s hand, and helped him to his feet. He was ready to move if need be.
Kaelmoro turned to face Ansim. “You killed my uncle and my father and all those loyal to the Crown. You dealt in poison, and you used your assassins to clean up anyone who escaped your murders.” He glanced upward, his blue-green eyes, so like Ajalira's, full of melancholy. “And the pearls return to the sea.”
Ansim leaped forward in a rage, drew his sword, and struck at Kaelmoro before anyone could respond. After all, who would have thought that the Kimereth lord would actually strike the King in front of a thousand witnesses?
Kamen immediately ordered the evacuation of the Sunjaa King, and once Saerileth had Jahen safely away, he leaped down the steps and into the fray. This was going to turn into a full-fledged melee if he did not do something.
“I charge you, in the King’s name, put up your swords! Any who draws blood in the King’s presence, his life is forfeit, Ausir and man, alike. Put up your swords.” Kamen shouldered his way past people to get to Ansim Kimereth, but he was already disarmed and in the custody of the Seranimesti.
The Kimereth all drew their longswords and made ready to attack. It would be a bloodbath. But Ansim raised his hand.
“No,” he said. “Stand down.”
Kamen glanced over at Kaelmoro. He lay dead in Tivanel’s arms, blood pouring from the wound in his chest. Tivanel looked up at Kamen with such bewilderment swimming in his green eyes that the Regent could not predict the Seranimesti’s next action.
Kamen stood on the balls of his feet, his limbs as light as a cat’s. Ansim was being held down. Tivanel wept. Kaelmoro lay dead. All the Ausir from the opposing factions rushed forward. The Ausir civil war had infected Jahen’s own court.
“Hear me speak.” Ansim struggled against his captors. “I admit my guilt in everything.”
This gave the Seranimesti and their allies pause. For a moment, this admission held eager, bright swords at bay.
“Speak on, dog.” Tivanel gently laid Kaelmoro’s body in his kinsman’s arms. “Tell us how you and your ilk killed King Javin, this sweet boy’s uncle.” His veins stood out on his neck as he spat the words through clenched teeth.
Ansim relaxed in his captors’ grasps. “Not true. I worked alone.”
“Liar.”
“I tell you I did. Who will gainsay me? Present your evidence.”
But no one had any, and Ansim knew that. He had played this one perfectly. He had murdered the only one able to discover the truth and extent of the treachery, and he took all the blame on himself. Certainly Ansim had not worked alone. He had assassins do his work for him, probably men from his own house as well as from other, lesser houses. Kaelmoro could have ruined everything with nothing more than a caress of his mind. Ansim ended that, and thereby ended his own life. But as Kamen looked in Ansim’s placid eyes, he saw how the murdering Ausir had resigned himself to death. He would die for his crimes, but his family would live. His house would retain its reputation, and there would be no retaliatio
n beyond the execution of Ansim. He took all the blame upon himself.
If Kamen were not so disgusted by the slaughter of a child, he could have applauded Kimereth for his cunning.
“You are a murderer, and you will hang for it.” Tivanel marched toward Ansim.
“A patriot, not a murderer.” Ansim thrust himself forward, but strong hands restrained him. “And I would do it again. I shit on the Tamari. I piss on that boy's corpse!” And he spat on the floor.
Tivanel screamed and drew his longsword.
“No!” Kamen cried, but it was too late.
Seranimesti's kinsmen held Kimereth up while Tivanel ran him through. The Ausir's lifeblood flowed out over the crosspiece and down Tivanel's forearm.
Kamen's gaze swept the room. How would he contain the chaos? He snapped his fingers, and a slave brought him his shortblade. If he had to cut his way out, he would. Ajalira was at his elbow. Of course. Tamari women fought beside their men. She pulled the dagger from its hiding place in her dress and nodded at him. They were ready.
But nothing happened. Everyone silently stared at the two corpses lying on the throne room floor. Just then a commotion outside caused everyone to turn. Through a side door burst Darien and a squad of soldiers.
Kamen held up his hand. “Hold!”
In that moment of calm death, he understood Ansim's stratagem. Not only did he take sole responsibility for the slaying of both kings, but by avoiding a trial and public execution, he prevented anyone bringing evidence forward or his kinsmen saying something under examination that would incriminate him. By slaying Kaelmoro and bringing about a quick death for himself, Ansim secured his family's position and ensured the continued thriving of his house. A brother or cousin would inherit, and things would go on as they always had. And the Ausir would have no King whom they could not hope to deceive.
Tivanel let his sword clatter to the floor, whirled on the stunned crowd, and thrust out his bloodied hands. “So much for regicides! Let this be my first official act as your King. And let the world hearken now to my words: we shall have peace, and any who bar the road shall follow this wretch into the grave. No funeral, no rites. Your body will be tossed to the birds and beasts. Your wives and daughters will be forbidden to mourn you. Test us, and you will see what strength lies in Seranimesti mettle.”
A Lotus for the Regent Page 22
