The Last Whisper of the Gods

by Berardinelli, James

  Myselene was not Amenia. They were, in fact, little alike. Amenia had been a vain woman; Azarak had learned of that defining character flaw soon after their courtship began. She had loved being queen because of the adulation that accompanied the position. She had enjoyed being seen with her handsome king, adorning his arm like the brightest jewel in the room. For balls and functions, she would spend days readying herself. Matters of state had been of little interest to her. Myselene, on the other hand, wanted to be a co-ruler. She cared about looking attractive only to the extent that it validated her position as Azarak’s consort. Had Amenia been more interested in matters of government, Azarak doubted the betrayal would have occurred. She had turned to others in part out of boredom. For a queen who devoted herself to the ruling of Vantok, there wouldn’t be time to entertain a lover.

  “What’s wrong?” Myselene’s gentle voice shook him from his reverie.

  “Evil thoughts,” murmured Azarak, speaking as much to himself as to her. “The ghosts of my past won’t let me slip peacefully into the future.” He reached out and absentmindedly tweaked a nipple between thumb and forefinger. She shivered, then sighed and turned onto her back to provide him with easier access. The motion was catlike in its languor.

  “Our future?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Chancellor Toranim showed me the final betrothal agreement. Your father, or should I say his vice chancellor, has been extremely generous. Non-perishable food stocks, a small amount of gold, and enough men to bring discipline to my inexperienced army.”

  “So it’s done?”

  “Pending your acceptance.”

  “You don’t need it,” she teased. “Princesses are property to be bartered for alliances and connections. You have my father’s agreement.”

  “You know I wouldn’t wed you without your approval, regardless of what your father or my advisors - all of whom are thrilled at the prospect - have to say.”

  “You had my agreement the first night I came to your bed. I knew what I was doing and what it signified, and nothing since has given me cause to regret that night or the ones that came after.”

  “There are things I have to confess before anything is finalized. If, after you hear all there is to hear, you choose to return unwed to Obis, I’ll release you from any perceived obligation. These are actions in my past of which I’m not proud. Those few who are cognizant of them would council me to keep these secrets close and not speak of them. ‘Let the past belong to the past’ - I believe that’s the popular phrase. But it’s your right to know.

  “If you were a pretty ornament, attractive of form but vapid, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If your sole functions as my queen were to enhance my public image by your youth and beauty and provide heirs to the throne, you could enter our union in ignorance. But you have a quick mind and I recognize in you someone who wishes more than to be a royal broodmare. You seek to share power, not bask in its reflection. Am I right?”

  “You are, Your Majesty. I will strive to lift some of the burden of rulership from your shoulders. I’ll do my duty as your consort to provide you with children and accompany you at official functions, but I want ‘queen’ to represent more than a title. And, while I don’t seek to rule alone, should anything befall you before your eldest child is eligible to ascend to the throne, I'll provide a respected and effective regency.”

  “Well said.” Azarak smiled approvingly. “If you’ll have me, I’ll have you. But first you must understand.”

  Myselene remained quiet and attentive. His next question surprised her. “How much do you know about my first wife?”

  “Queen Amenia? Not much. I know she died many years ago when I was but a girl.” As best she could recall, that had been about five years ago. At the time, it had excited great interest in the court of Obis. “The servants speak well of her when they speak of her at all. I asked one of the cooks about her and she said the ‘old queen’ was beautiful and kind and... flighty.”

  And faithless. “We married when I was nineteen and she had just reached her Maturity. I rejected many more suitable brides to have her. It was always the case in our marriage, as in our courtship, that I loved her more than she loved me. I accepted it, knowing that my position as king made me desirable enough that I needed fan no more than a spark of interest to win her affection and garner her permission to wed. Still, after the time we spent together waiting for her to be of age, I’m sure she developed a passing affection for me. She wasn’t besotted, but there was something there - something I thought we could use as the foundation for a long, happy marriage.

  “At the time, few in my inner circle supported my choice. Her blood was noble - her parents, dead by the time of our courtship, were longtime favorites of my father and she had more than one title to her name. But many of my advisors, including Toranim, saw her as an opportunist and disliked the lack of political ‘capital’ she brought with her. They favored a union with a foreign princess or the daughter of a powerful household traditionally antagonistic to the Crown.

  “During the first year of our marriage, we seemed to spend as much time in bed as out of it, yet she never conceived a child. My memory argues that we were happy but I’ve found that, after a few years, memory can lie. Eventually, sex became mechanical and obligatory. Our goal was no longer pleasing each other but impregnating her. We slept in the same bed but no longer shared much in the way of intimacy. The pregnancy didn’t happen. The bond of closeness that grew during our early years together dissolved. We found reasons to be apart except when duty required that we appear together.

  “She took lovers. I was oblivious at the time, cocooned in a false sense of security that unfaithfulness wasn’t possible from my queen but, after her death, I learned the names of several men who shared her favors. For the most part, they were casual flings and I freely admit that I bore a share of the responsibility for her looking elsewhere. As attentive as I was in the early days of our marriage, I became cold and distant as matters of state weighed me down and the expected child didn’t come. Amenia was the kind of woman who craved adoration and, when she no longer received it from me, she sought it elsewhere. Most of the affairs were forgivable and she was discreet enough to keep them secret from all but a few close confidantes and her maid. But then she went too far. There was one liaison - her last one - that could have proved worse than scandalous had it become public knowledge. In fact, had word of it gotten out, I might no longer be sitting upon Vantok's throne.

  “At the time, Vantok’s relations with Basingham had deteriorated near to a state of undeclared war. We blamed them for inciting bandits to rob our merchants’ caravans and retaliated by paying mercenaries to harry and burn their outlying farms. Their ambassador to Vantok, a suave sycophant named Ravensforth, seduced Amenia and they began an affair that lasted the better part of a season. Not only did she share his bed but she revealed details about the militia’s campaigns. She became pregnant with his child while I was routing bandits in Basingham’s employ.

  “At first, when I learned of Amenia’s pregnancy, I was overjoyed. But it soon became apparent there were problems with the dates. When she claimed to be a season with child, her healers argued she was approaching half-term. This aroused my suspicion and I commanded Toranim to conduct an investigation. He uncovered the sordid truth and brought me evidence to damn Amenia beyond all doubt. I wouldn’t have acted as I did had there been any hope for her innocence. But she had been careless on this occasion, too careless...”

  He bowed his head for a moment, remembering the bitter day when he had decided Amenia’s life would be forfeit. This wasn't a memory he wanted to dredge up but, for Myselene's sake and the sake of their marriage, she deserved to know the truth. This wasn’t about Amenia. It was about him and the kind of sacrifice he was willing to make for his city.

  “Toranim and I decided Vantok would be best served if news of Amenia’s treason didn’t become public. So we acted. I obtained a rare and undetectable poison. On the
appointed day, I administered it to her before we retired for the evening. That same night, a highly skilled group of ‘patriots’ broke into Ambassador Ravensforth's house. By the next morning, both were dead - Ravensforth as the supposed victim of robbers and Amenia of ‘an unexpected illness caused by complications from her pregnancy.’ In death, she was as beloved by the populace as in life. No one knew, or even suspected, except Toranim and I. And now you.”

  His narrative completed, Azarak looked at Myselene expectantly, trying to read what she was feeling beneath her composed features.

  Her words were carefully chosen. She didn’t wish to seem callous but, at the same time, she wanted the king to understand that she was neither shocked nor dismayed by his revelation. Her father had done far worse things, some for less noble reasons. “Azarak, what you did, had to be done. Any other action, be it exiling her or subjecting her to a public trial, would have made you less of a man and less of a king. I respect what you did. It certainly hasn’t changed my mind. If anything, it’s convinced me that, in choosing to marry you, I’ve made the right decision. Now, can I ask something...?”

  Azarak nodded his assent.

  “Do you love me?” she asked. Although seemingly a simple question, it was unexpected. To this point, they avoided speaking about their feelings for one another. Endearments and expressions of attachment, commonplace among betrothed couples, hadn’t been exchanged. Yet now Myselene wanted to understand where she stood in the king’s affections.

  Azarak didn’t answer immediately, in part because he didn’t know what to say. With Amenia, he had been in her thrall from the moment he had first laid eyes upon her. Everything was different with Myselene. He had allowed her to seduce him but their first sexual encounter hadn’t happened until after he had decided she would be his wife. She was adept but inexperienced in a way that made the game more exciting.

  He wondered how she would respond to that question if he asked it of her. Would she choose the safe route and say that she had, during their time together, come to adore him? Or would she be honest and admit that she was attracted to him more for his position than for his person? With Amenia, love had made him vulnerable to manipulation and deceit. The subsequent ache had taught him an invaluable lesson. Myselene’s deepest feelings for him were irrelevant. All that mattered was that she was willing to work with him, live with him, and be his queen, companion, and the mother of his children. Love wasn’t necessary. Indeed, an argument could be made that it wasn't desirable.

  But she had asked him, not the other way around. The words hung in the air between them. He had been honest with her thus far; there was no sense in resorting to half-truths and platitudes at this stage. He was uncertain why she had asked, but he doubted it would have an impact on her matrimonial decision.

  “I respect you, like you as a person, and look forward to spending the rest of my days with you. When I awaken next to you, I feel gratitude that I’m not alone in a cold bed. And I crave your body in a way I haven’t desired anyone since the first days with Amenia. That’s how I feel.”

  “It’s enough,” said Myselene. “Honest and straightforward. Had you told me you loved me, I’m not sure I would have believed you. It would have seemed patronizing. My father once told me that love is pointless but trust is paramount. Those are words I live by. We’ll promise much during the official ceremony, but let our true vow be one of honesty.”

  His response was to kiss her full on the lips. She answered with equal gusto, pushing aside the sheets and quickly mounting him. Thus did they confirm their betrothal.

  * * *

  “You told her?” Toranim’s tone was a mixture of apprehension and disbelief.

  “Lies and secrets were at the heart of the failure of my first marriage and the reason I had to kill Amenia. How could I begin a second marriage like that?”

  “Not telling her something she had no expectation of knowing is different from hiding something from her. You’ve provided her with ammunition. If your marriage should sour...”

  “...it would be her word against mine. Anything she claimed would be no more than unsubstantiated allegations. Not that I believe she would ever go so far.”

  Toranim sighed. “At times, my friend, you show a surprising lack of judgment when evaluating people. I like and approve of Myselene, but there’s an element of ruthlessness in her character that you’re blind to. In the right circumstances, she could and would use that information against you. You’re correct in saying there’s no proof but rumors could damage your reputation as effectively as unclouded facts.”

  “Rumors about an act that was within the purview of my responsibilities as a king. Regardless, it’s done and can’t be undone, and I stand by my decision to inform her. She has a right to know, Toranim. A right to understand the darkest thing about the man to whom she has chosen to be bound.”

  The chancellor lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s your decision, Your Majesty, but we don’t agree. As you say, it’s done. I assume she’s given her formal acceptance.”

  “All that remains is for it to be made public. Is the Vice Chancellor of Obis on his way home?”

  “He took the liberty of assuming Her Highness’ consent and departed at first light. I believe he was most anxious to return to cooler climes. The heat didn’t agree with him although I suspect he’ll have to get used to it. The terms of the wedding agreement stipulate that ‘the Vice Chancellor of Obis shall transfer his allegiance to Vantok, where he will occupy a similar position of authority to the one he currently holds.’”

  “Will he submit to my authority?”

  “Without question. Gorton knew when we haggled over the terms that Myselene wanted him here on a permanent basis. He made it clear that he, like every soldier and officer who comes as part of Her Highness’ dowry, will sever his allegiance to Obis and swear fealty not only to Vantok but to you personally. He’s a smart and capable man and will make an excellent advisor. I could use a capable assistant - something you’ve long denied me,” said Toranim with a smile. “The next step is to make it official. Any excuse for a celebration. With the seasonal cooling and the announcement of a new future queen, spirits should be high, at least for a short while. Good news doesn’t last as long as it once did.”

  “How are our coffers?”

  Toranim shrugged. “Less than half full, but considering that tax revenue is down and we’ve been paying exorbitant amounts to fund the conscription and ship in grain, the treasury is in surprisingly good shape.”

  “Can we afford to pick up all tavern tabs for a day?”

  “No,” said the chancellor. “But we can afford first rounds.”

  “Let’s do that, then. There’s no better way to get a populace to love their future queen than by free drinks.”

  * * *

  With the rush of her triumph fading, Myselene was experiencing something she had never expected: regrets. It wasn’t that she doubted she was doing the best thing for her future by marrying Azarak, nor did she think he would make anything other than a good husband but, for the first time, she recognized what she would lose - had already lost, in fact. The familiar comfort of her father’s court, as cold and formal as it could be, had always been the most solid reality in her life and she would likely never see it again. Her former companions would no longer join her for gossip sessions about palace life. All that had been familiar was gone. She had succeeded at her goal but, in doing so, had surrounded herself with strange people in a strange land.

  She knew it was childish to yearn for things she could no longer have. Even if she had bypassed the opportunity to court Azarak, her father would have married her off to a nobleman, general, or guildmaster. She would have swapped a palace for a mansion and most of her status-conscious friends would have drifted away. She never thought to rue the day of her Maturity, yet a small piece of her was doing so today.

  Azarak respected her. There was comfort in that. She reciprocated the sentiment, esteeming him
and believing in him and what he stood for. When she had asked the king if he loved her, he had answered truthfully. For that, she was grateful.

  Next would come the celebrations and, for them, she would have to be more radiant than she had ever been. Her first impression upon her future subjects had to be awe-inspiring. They must fall in love with her at first sight. They mustn’t see her as a foreigner come to steal away their king or usurp his power. Her role in public was to be submissive.

  “Congratulations, M’lady,” came a timorous voice from behind Myselene. Her maid. Her new maid. Her Vantok maid. Nothing against this woman - Myselene didn’t even know her name - but she intended to send for Nymia, her longtime personal servant in Obis. She hoped Azarak wouldn’t take offense, but she needed someone she could confide in. The maid assigned to her here was good at her job but her bearing made Myselene uncomfortable.

  The woman’s words were evidence of how quickly a rumor could catch fire. She knew from experience that nothing spread faster through the service ranks than gossip. By now, everyone in the palace knew of her betrothal. By tomorrow, it would be the talk of the city. The official announcement would be a formality.

  She shook her head almost imperceptibly with a strong internal admonition to compose herself. She wasn’t a child anymore, and wishing so wouldn’t make a difference. She lived in a world of hard realities, not magic and fairy tales. Self-pity was as unbecoming as it was unproductive.

  Power came through knowledge. Life at court had taught her that no one had more knowledge than servants. In the early days of her marriage, she could bask in the reflected glow of her husband. Eventually, however, she would need to develop a unique personal base of influence. In addition to establishing her as more than a figurehead, it would enable her to rule alongside Azarak and not in his shadow. This woman was as good a person as any to start making new connections.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.