Ashes to Ashes

by Carrie F. Shepherd

  “Alright, your Highness.” Aiken’s eyes flashed as they met and held Ishitar’s gaze. “Let us see if we can pass off the very Prince of all peoples as nothing more significant than a eunuch and a slave.”

  -38-

  Though fully dressed in his silks when Pialoron heard the knock on the door, he ordered Aminar into the closet lest he be found immodestly attired and in intimate company. Upon learning that it was his father that had knocked upon his door—and that he was in a perfect rage over the fact that, not only had Pialoron rejected the daughter of Lord Aiken Darklief of the Oakland Grove as his wife, but that Lord Darklief was now here to dress Pialoron down for the insult—he was grateful that Aminar had minded him.

  “Papa,” Pialoron implored, “the fairies of the Oakland Grove worship every one of the pagan Gods! And they walk freely amongst one and another wearing not even their small clothes!”

  “That may be.” Lord Elric snapped as they walked together down the hall toward the throne room. The anger pounding from Lord Elric was palpable. “But his is the most powerful tribe of fairy in all of Anticata. We could have established ourselves with an army that would rid us of the menace of the sea dragons for good. As for the girl, you could beat her into submission if she refused to obey our customs and laws!”

  “I do not wish to marry a woman I must beat into submission.” Pialoron complained, unintentionally.

  “Every woman needs a reminder as to her place from time to time.” Lord Elric replied haughtily to this. They had reached the Audience Room by now.

  “Yet every man in the Oakland Grove has laid his eyes upon her!” Pialoron snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Why couldn’t his father just give him time to grieve Aminas? Why did he insist on marrying him off so soon after her death?

  “She’s probably been had by every one of them!”

  “Lord Aiken has assured me that her maiden wall has not yet been breached.” He turned to his son and gave him a heavy warning. “And I believe him. So if he offers you Princess Triyana’s hand again you will take it. Do you understand me?” Then, under his breath, “There are enough whispers and accusations regarding the reasons that you refuse to marry as it is.”

  “You have no worries.” Pialoron spat. “I’ve told you! And you complain out of the other side of your mouth that I did not save myself for marriage by laying with Animas before she died. So which is it that you want of me, father? To be chaste with the women? Or to behave like a man?”

  Elric ignored that last part because he couldn’t deny the truth in it. Instead, his eyes scoured Pialoron’s face, blazing with accusation.

  “It’s that damned eunuch that concerns me.” He grumbled. “Your kindness toward him is unnatural!”

  “Our time is innocently enough passed.” Pialoron raged, his eyes darting away from his father. “What evil thoughts invade your mind? What must you think of me to voice them aloud?”

  Elric’s eyes narrowed. “I see the manner in which his gaze trails over you.”

  “No more than the adoration of a slave for his master.” Though Pialoron had the better sense to be frightened. “Or a subject for his Prince. Or a brother for the man who was to marry his sister for that matter!”

  “Perhaps.” Lord Elric turned away and reached for the door to the Throne Room. “But, perhaps not. So mind your manners with Lord Aiken. And be gracious toward him regardless of your opinion of his bloodline or lack of small clothes.”

  Sighing, Pialoron forced himself to shove his anger and fear deep into his stomach. Elric was right about one thing: Lord Aiken was the most powerful fairy of any tribe in all of Anticata. The mischief fairies of the Oakland Grove even touted Lord Aiken as the son of one of the pagan Gods that they worshiped.

  Pialoron didn’t believe this to be true. Nor did he believe that Lord Aiken, or his children, believed such nonsense. Yet, he was familiar enough with politics not to disavow this belief to any member of Lord Aiken’s heathen tribe.

  As they stepped inside, Pialoron’s eyes fell on the strong curve of Lord Aiken’s back. The silken tie of the loincloth that was twisted in a bow at the small of his back only served to draw attention to his bare buttocks. Pialoron had the good sense to look swiftly away before his father marked where his eyes had fallen and, incorrectly, assume the worst.

  “Lord Aiken.” Elric made his tone light and airy as he tried to belie the importance to him of a union between the Oakland Grove and the Sea of Vladtomy. “Here he is. Here is my son.”

  Lord Aiken—who was taller, even, then Pialoron—turned away from the tapestry that he had been admiring and toward Pialoron and Lord Elric. As he did so, the manservant at his side did the same. Pialoron noted that Lord Aiken had ordered his manservant to obey the custom of Elric’s people by donning himself in silks, covering even his hair and darkening the features of his face with shadows.

  After having walked among Aiken’s people this surprised him.

  “Well. If it isn’t the boy who finds himself higher in station than a woman born of the bloodline of the Gods.” Lord Aiken said. Though Pialoron was quick to note that his smile was light and that his tone was teasing. “Prince Pialoron. I am grieved that I missed your visit to my Oakland Grove. Perhaps I wouldn’t have needed to follow you to the Sea of Vladtomy had I made myself available to offer you the gifts that I will bestow upon the man who seeks my daughter’s hand.”

  “My Lord.” He bowed low to Lord Aiken and forced his eyes to stay averted to his face, despite his distaste and desire to look away. “I merely found myself unworthy of a beauty such as her upon seeing her fair face.”

  “Her reputation does proceed her, my Lord.” Lord Elric remarked in floating tones. “A real beauty so I’m told.”

  Lord Aiken chuckled under his breath. He had crossed one arm over his well-made chest and raised the hand of the other to his mouth to tug upon his lower lip. “Her face is rather blinding.”

  Pialoron found himself looking upon Lord Aiken with wide eyed surprise. Has he just insulted his own daughter?

  Aiken turned languidly and held his hand out to the manservant beside him. “This is my eunuch. I call him Joshua.”

  Pialoron noted that the eunuch raised his face. When he did so, the shadows danced away as the light of the torches touched his strong, well-made features. He gave Pialoron a quiet, almost contemplative smile. Pialoron realized, as he looked upon the man, that the only race that he might possibly be was human.

  Human!

  Pialoron had never in his life seen a human. Most of the human clans kept well away from those not of their own races because they considered themselves to be superior to all. In fact, he had heard of one town which had a sign on all entry roads that warned those of other races that if they entered the village they would be persecuted—not prosecuted—to the full extent of the law.

  How has Lord Aiken actually purchased one to make him his own? Beyond that, how has he convinced the human to obey him enough to adhere to a custom that was not Lord Aiken’s?

  His mind was teaming with curiosity. He bowed his head to the manservant but allowed himself to pass him no words as they were not appropriate given he was another man’s property.

  And, he could admit this to himself, given that he was flustered by the actual presence of the human, lest they be jumbled and incomprehensible.

  “Lord Elric,” Lord Aiken turned to Pialoron’s father. “I wonder if you wouldn’t be so kind as to give me a moment alone with your son. Perhaps a bit of consideration—aside my daughter’s unfortunate face—will give him to change his mind to marry her for the other gifts that she—or I—might bestow.”

  Pialoron lowered his gaze, embarrassed that he had played the girl’s misfortune against her. Truly, he hadn’t found her to be that unattractive. She wasn’t, precisely, unattractive.

  Rather, she was just . . .

  Not Aminas.

  He was suddenly sorry that he might have hurt her feelings by rejecting
her.

  “I would so like to see hoards of grandchildren blessed of your line and mine.” Aiken finished.

  “As would I.” Lord Elric puffed out his chest and turned, his eyes narrowed, in Pialoron’s direction. “I shall draw up the terms of our treaty to aide you against the vampires and the marriage contract once my son has acknowledged the honor that you bestow upon him.” Then in seething tones. “I know that he shan’t disappoint either one of us a second time.”

  “I’m certain that he won’t.” Lord Aiken replied, still holding those teasing, bemused tones. “Given the overly large dowry that her maidenhead carries and the protection that my people can afford you from the menace marching your way.”

  “Father.”

  Pialoron gave Lord Elric the appropriate bow as he made his way out of the room. It was Lord Elric that was interested in the dowry. Not Pialoron. Yet, he was concerned about the rumors that he had heard regarding demons and vampires making their way to the Sea to cross to the Island of Nononia.

  He suspected that Lord Aiken knew both of these things.

  He watched his father with keen interest until the door shut and then turned his attention back toward Lord Aiken. As he did so, he marked that Lord Aiken was removing the hood of the mantle from his manservant’s head onto his shoulders. His long, delicate fingers began plucking at the human’s light brown hair, fluffing it out and arranging it so that it would please him to look upon.

  “Pretty.” Lord Aiken muttered, grinning at the man he called Joshua, who was looking at Lord Aiken with quiet patience. Aside that, the eunuch’s expression was unreadable. “Don’t you think so, Pialoron?”

  “I wouldn’t know to judge another man by his beauty.” He muttered, looking away. “Especially not a human man.”

  Lord Aiken chuckled at that and turned to give him a narrow smile. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

  “I did not mean to insult you, my Lord.” Pialoron decided to get right to the point. “Or Princess Triyana. It is merely that I found your daughter—”

  “Unpleasing.” Lord Aiken shrugged. “She isn’t the prettiest of my daughters, to be certain.” Pialoron blushed again at the lie of his rejection. He lowered his eyes to his feet. As he did so, Lord Aiken turned to give him his full attention. “But really, Pialoron, you only need bed her when the time comes for propagating the line. And you can mount her from behind so as not to see her offensive face.” He chuckled. “The rest of the time—should you live in the Oakland Grove with me—you are free to rut with my women as you please.”

  “My Lord,” Pialoron frowned at him. He was offended on the Lady’s behalf. “That is not how we do things at the Sea of Vladtomy. We mate with whom we pair and pair only with those whom we have chosen.”

  “Is that so?” Lord Aiken asked. His tone had that amused quality to it again and his violet eyes were burning with warm understanding. “But, then, how are you to make little princes when the woman that you’ve chosen to marry has died? And when you, now, do not wish to marry a woman at all?”

  “I don’t . . .” He shook his head. “It isn’t that I do not wish to marry. I merely found your daughter not to my taste.”

  “Given her lack of a scroll?” Lord Aiken dared to ask.

  Pialoron, hating himself for the lie that he would care who the girl’s mother was, nodded.

  Lord Aiken chuckled under his breath again. The human was watching him with vague curiosity and amusement. “From what I hear, you shall never, again, find any woman enough to your taste to marry. Scroll or no scroll. From what I understand, your taste now runs to eunuchs.”

  “My Lord!” Pialoron, blushing profusely, cried out, “That is simply untrue! Lies meant to—!”

  “Aiken,” Joshua said, his tone soft and, to Pialoron’s great curiosity, affronted, “this is unproductive and your accusations border on rude.”

  “Is it?” Lord Aiken grinned. His manservant cocked his head and gave him a strange, commanding gaze. Aiken flapped his hand, almost irritably, at the human. “Oh, very well.”

  Pialoron would have found this exchange queer, but he had little and less time to focus on the strange relationship between Lord Aiken and his eunuch. Lord Aiken walked to Lord Elric’s throne and threw himself within it.

  The gesture was so rude as to be offensive! No man ever sat upon the throne of another without the invitation of it! No matter if that man was, by his right, a more powerful tribe’s King!

  “Triyana doesn’t please you because she is a bastard. As are all of my sons and daughters, given I’ve never married any one of their mothers. And Triyana,” this he said regretfully, sadly, “was the only one of my children thus far born with my face and, so, no scroll.”

  He trailed his finger through the air over his own face as he said this. Pialoron almost believed, by this gesture, that his daughter’s plight actually pained him.

  Does it? Is he more than a pagan heathen who rapes his women, men and children in equal measure as the rumors suggest he is wont to do?

  “I shall not press the point as to the true reasons why you refuse to bind another woman to your side.”

  “I care not who you are.” Pialoron said, ready to spin away because he loathed his own judgments and the fact that this fairy—this King—had heard the rumors regarding his odd relationship with Aminar. “I will not bear your insults.”

  “I do not mean to insult you, boy.” Aiken’s tone was soft and—damn it—fatherly. “Please. Sit. Palaver with me.” Pialoron watched as his eyes flicked to the manservant. Joshua’s expression was still soft; still contemplative. “Because you know a fundamental truth in your heart that you cannot deny to me.”

  “What truth?” He asked, though he did turn to face Lord Aiken.

  “Your love for Aminar is innocent and stems only from your love of Aminas.” He sighed. “You never would have looked at Aminar twice had he not the feminine qualities of a eunuch who had been made so as a child rather than as a man.” He shook his head. “He is pretty and he is childlike. Like a woman. And he reminds you, in his softness, of his sister.”

  Pialoron lowered his gaze.

  “That may be how it started.” Lord Aiken’s voice was gentle. “But that is not how it is today. You do love your eunuch, if only as a brother or a friend.” Pialoron raised his gaze, though he couldn’t meet Lord Aiken’s own. “And you love him now because you love him. Not because you love his twin sister.”

  “I still love Aminas.”

  “You always shall.” Lord Aiken sighed. His tone was heavy. “She was your Shitva. She will always be your Shitva. I have mine own that I have lost. And that one, too, cannot be replaced.”

  “Is that why you never married?” Pialoron asked, his eyes wide with understanding.

  Lord Aiken nodded.

  “But never mind about my Shitva. And never mind about yours. You have Aminar today. In the here and now. And Aminar makes you happy. It also helps that Aminar loves you.”

  “He has to.”

  Lord Aiken’s lips narrowed.

  “No he doesn’t.” He looked away. “Your father bought and paid for him as a babe by selling the flesh between his legs to the dark magi. So, yes, he is bound to serve you. That does not mean he is required to love you.”

  Pialoron shook his head.

  “What is important here, boy, is that if you remain here—unwed—your pretty little eunuch will find himself staked and bound at low tide.” Pialoron flinched. “Whereas,” he continued, “should you marry my daughter, you are free to live in the Oakland Grove with me and my kindred. Remember that it is Aminar that will be the one to pay for the supposed sins that others believe rest in your heart.”

  “Aminar is an innocent.” Pialoron insisted, not missing at all that Lord Aiken understood everything. “Untouched by anyone. Including me.”

  “I care not if he is an innocent or if he is not.” Lord Aiken smiled kindly upon him. “No more than I care about your innocence where Aminar is concerned.” He
shrugged. “Pagan Gods that may or may not exist my people do worship. Yet, we love our kindred regardless of the internal struggles that they face with their own, very real, demons.”

  Pialoron raised his gaze to meet Lord Aiken’s own.

  “If you are to become my kindred—my handsome and much beloved son by marriage—then you will find the ability that you need under my care to protect Aminar in whatever manner that you believe you must.” Then with another of his strange laughs. “And all that I ask of you is that you marry my scroll lacking bastardess of a daughter just long enough to make her feel beautiful. To give her the courtesy of your seed but enough times so that she might grant you many sons and daughters. Children who will be very powerful and much loved,” he chuckled again, “at least by their pagan God of a grandfather.”

  “My Lord.” Pialoron swallowed, his voice now a whisper. As he did so, his gaze turned to Joshua, who was still watching Aiken with guarded curiosity and quiet surprise. “What you offer me for the price of my seed is all well and good. I fail to see how that protects Aminar.”

  “Aminar will live as a freeman in my Grove once you marry into my tribe.” Aiken shrugged. Then his nose curled in disgust. “I have little and less taste for slavery.” He flicked his eyes to Pialoron. “You and Triyana are free to return here with not the first rumor to follow you. Aminar, however, must, by necessity, stay with me. If he does, then I promise to take him under my protection.”

  Pialoron was about to question why Aminar must stay and why Lord Aiken would take over the care of him when Lord Aiken whispered, to Pialoron’s terror, “You haven’t violated him. Nor will you. But the rumors that surround you will damn him.” Aiken’s violet eyes met Pialoron’s silver gaze. “No one, here, is going to forgive him for allowing you to crawl behind him and into his bed. Or for hiding in your closet, waiting for you to return from this conversation to advise him that it is safe for him to return to his own chamber.”

  Which was only half of it, Pialoron knew. Only what this strange, Oracle King, understood.

  “I haven’t touched him.” He whispered. “I am not . . . Aside with my trespasses with Aminas, I am worthy to marry your daughter.”