Dead God's Due

by Matthew P Gilbert

  Aiul’s eyes flashed green fury as he roared, “This will not stand!” His throat worked, struggling to form words, his face red with fury. “Someone will die screaming for this!”

  Narelki inclined her head imperiously but did not deign to stand. “You are in the Library of Amrath. You will show proper respect for the Great Father.”

  Aiul sneered at the notion. “The Great Father be damned!”

  “I will not tolerate such talk here. If you must have a tantrum, then there are plenty of other rooms in this house.” She raised an arm and pointed toward the doors. “Not here. This is a place of reason.”

  Aiul regarded her with a scathing glare, his hands clenched into fists. “If you define cold-blooded plotting as ‘reason,’ I suppose.”

  “You are testing my patience, child.”

  “And well I shall! Spare me that insipid pose. Amrath was no stranger to rage!”

  “Do not presume to lecture me on the Great Father, whelp!”

  “I dare what I wish! Grandfather said passion was what made the founders truly great!”

  Narelki tensed at this but kept her fingers gently laced together in front of her. “My father was a disgrace to this House, and we will not speak of him.”

  “The truth does not change, even when spoken by enemies.”

  Narelki flashed him a condescending smile. “A ruse, quoting Amrath to me, not an actual argument. You have yet to establish truth, regardless of the speaker.” She unlaced her fingers and leaned back in her chair. “The wisdom of Amrath is no bomb to be lobbed into a debate without support.”

  “Perhaps. But you are twisting things here, as well. I think he would find your whitewashing his humanity to be the gravest of insults!”

  Narelki raised her eyebrows at this. “Now you speak for the dead, eh?”

  “Would the Great Father have stood by in meek acquiescence when his family was threatened?” Aiul stepped forward and leaned in, his wild eyes inches from her own. “What would he have done, Mother?”

  Narelki rose slowly and faced him, ice in her eyes. “He would have mastered his rage, gathered his thoughts, and made a rational plan. Perhaps after smashing a lamp or two, but he would have found focus!” She pushed at his chest, and he allowed it. “Because he understood there is a time and place for all things!”

  Aiul took a deep breath. “That is so.”

  She stared at him, torn. He was so brash, so angry, so willful. Perhaps Father was right. Perhaps we should have trained him, but, he has so little control! Mei, the cost if we were wrong!

  She could almost hear her father’s response in her mind, his smooth, pompous baritone correcting her mistakes with merciless truth. Safety is the creed of sheep and slaves.

  She could feel hot tears welling behind her eyes, and she crushed the weakness down with even hotter anger. She would not cry! “I am your Elder as well as your mother. You are obliged to hear me on both counts.”

  Aiul stared at the floor, his jaw still working in his barely suppressed fury. But he is listening.

  “The truth here,” she continued, “is that no harm is done—”

  “Yet.”

  Narelki felt her anger lunging at its chains, and decided it would be appropriate to release it just a bit. “I am still speaking!” she shouted. She paused a moment for her point to sink in. “Lara is a bit worse for wear, that is all. Do you agree?”

  “I agree,” Aiul muttered. He looked up as he found his argument. “But as it is, she nearly lost the child. If I hadn’t been close by, if I hadn’t driven them away, they might well have killed her.”

  Narelki shrugged. “They didn’t.”

  “This time! They will be back. She was targeted, Mother.”

  Narelki waved the notion aside. “Now you’re being paranoid. What proof do you have of that? She’s a commoner. Random violence is a fact of life for them. It’s one of the many reasons I counseled against this whole affair.”

  Aiul shook his head. “In commoner areas, perhaps that is true, but not in the gardens of the Cradle! Mei!”

  “Do not speak so in the Library of Amrath.”

  Aiul ran a hand over his face, frowning. After a moment, he continued, calmer but still aggressive. “This is what irks me with you, Mother, this retooling of history. Amrath was a Meite! They all were! I’m sure this chamber has heard that name from the Great Father’s own lips on many occasions. It must be written at least a thousand times in his book.” He turned toward the statue of Amrath and clenched his hands into fists several times. “We’re all degenerates by his way of thinking, you know. Weaklings and wretches. He would have despised us as children, that we have words we dare not speak.”

  Narelki tightened her grip behind her back, struggling to maintain her composure. This was not the sort of conversation she could ever have with anyone, much less Aiul. He couldn’t possibly understand. Better he think her a silly prude than know the truth about her. “Be that as it may, it is offensive to modern ears, and I will not have it here. If you want to discuss philosophy, I’ll have Slat fetch us drinks, but I believe you have more pressing issues on your mind.”

  Aiul seemed to relax a bit, his scowl softening into worry. “Aye. But I am certain of it, Mother. Someone specifically targeted Lara.”

  Narelki pursed her lips. He was a bit too close to the truth for her liking. “I do not like indulging paranoia, but for sake of argument, we’ll follow that line of reasoning. Who would do such a thing?”

  Aiul eyed her gravely. ”There are several people who would prefer my marriage to Lara remain without issue.” He held her gaze for a moment, then turned aside, as if something had caught his eye. He walked quickly toward the trash and bent over to examine it.

  Narelki bristled with outrage. “Are you accusing me?”

  Aiul reached into the bin and pulled at a scrap of cloth. He raised it slowly, a look of horror on his face, then leaped toward her, fury in his eyes. He seized a handful of her blouse and pulled her close, then shoved the stained piece of cloth into her face.

  “No, Mother,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I hadn’t suspected you until just this very moment!”

  Narelki felt her hands trembling. This was a dangerous situation. Aiul had always had a temper, but this was no tantrum. He was, at least for the moment, quite capable of murder. She cursed herself for making such a foolish mistake. How in Mei’s name had she let that stupid whore leave incriminating evidence? And how did Aiul even know what it was? She dismissed the question. It was irrelevant. He knew, and it would have to be dealt with.

  It galled her that she should actually be afraid of him. There had been a time not so long ago when she feared no one. No! You will not go down that road! That is the way to madness!

  She laughed lightly, determined not to let her fear show, then told him in an icy tone, “If Matricide is your intent, child, then get on with it, or release me.” Mei! Even now, when I should beg for mercy or forgiveness, I can’t let go of the arrogance!

  Aiul glared at her for several moments, then shoved her away, sending her sprawling on the floor. “That would be just like you, wouldn’t it? ‘Go ahead! Kill your mother and rule House Amrath! Forget those silly feelings and seize the opportunity!’” He spat on the floor. “If I were that sort of man, I’d have married Kariana, and we’d not be having this discussion, would we?”

  Narelki rose slowly to her feet, her years weighing upon her like stones. “It’s not what you think.”

  “No? Then tell me, Mother, what is it? That wretched bitch promised me last night she would kill Lara, just after she tore this from my shirt.” He waved the filthy scrap of cloth like a flag. “So she came here, and the two of you cooked up some scheme, one that I foiled. How is it not ‘that’?”

  “She was here,” Narelki conceded. “She was a wreck, blubbering like a child. I took her in because I thought she had been raped, and for a bit, I thought you might have been the one responsible for it.”

  “Ah,
now I’m a rapist in your eyes?”

  Narelki folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin. “You may have others fooled, but I know you well, Aiul. I know just what you are capable of when your blood is up. Even I am not safe from it.”

  Aiul snorted. “Go on, then. You’re spinning quite a tale. Let’s hear the end of it.”

  Narelki slapped him with all her might. Aiul staggered back, a look of shock on his face along with the bright red imprint of her palm. “There, now we are even. And I will not tolerate that tone from you anymore this night! If you will not respect me as your mother, I command that you respect me as Elder of House Amrath!”

  Aiul stiffened and rubbed at his face. “You have that right.”

  “And I have responsibilities, as you well know. Advising House Tasinal has always been one of the highest duties of House Amrath. It was my duty to hear her and give her counsel as best I could.” She glared at him a moment, then retook her seat, muttering, “And for this, I am manhandled and accused of treachery by my own son.”

  Aiul lowered his eyes to the floor, abashed. “Please, go on.”

  As a lawyer, Narelki was quite experienced at ‘shaping’ the truth, but she was not fond of outright lies. They left a foul taste in her mouth for any number of reasons, but it was simply necessary this time. “She begged me to help her, to use my influence to change your mind. I told her I had already tried and could do nothing. She blubbered a bit more, cursed, and said something about having her own means of changing things. Then she left.”

  Aiul’s face lit with anger once again. “And you told me nothing?”

  Narelki threw up her hands in exasperation. “I had no idea what she intended.”

  “Oh, please, Mother, you must have suspected. If nothing else, you could put two and two together. Instead, you’ve tried to convince me I am paranoid!”

  “Of course. I knew the moment you mentioned it. That doesn’t mean I thought you should know.” She waved a hand toward him. “Look at you. You’re half mad with rage. She’s the empress, damn you! If you move against her, she will kill you, and I won’t be part of you throwing your life away. Now calm down and use your head!”

  She could see the walls going up in his mind, the darkness of black hate in his eyes. She wasn’t getting through to him. “Aiul!”

  “There is no calming down, Mother,” he said in a dull voice. “Kariana tried to kill my wife. I can’t just let that pass.” He turned toward the door.

  Narelki rose and grabbed at his arm as he passed. “Think about what you’re doing! Don’t throw your life away over this!” But Aiul paid her no heed. He shrugged off her grip and walked away. He was strong, and she was weak. If only she were still strong. If only….

  “Aiul!” But he was gone.

  For long moments, she stood alone, paralyzed with fear. She’d made a terrible miscalculation. Aiul would be killed!

  Calm yourself, girl, her father’s voice seemed to say. Think.

  “Damn you! Damn all Meites!” Yet, now, that way was all she had to fall back on, even if it were no longer hers. Her father’s voice softened, became her own, hard, cold, clear. Stop this pathetic weakness.

  She answered in her own voice, a warbling whisper no one outside the order had ever heard, and even then only at the end. I can’t! It’s why I fell from grace! Mei, it’s a thread unraveling! It’s a slow, bleeding death!

  And again, what was left of her old self, her powerful, Meite self, answered, Then admit you’re pathetic nature. Call Maranath. He will know what to do.

  Narelki tore at her hair, furious at the very thought. Fire seemed to ignite within her once again, a cold flame she had not felt in many years. It would not last, she knew, but it was enough for now.

  Aiul will calm. He is furious, not insane. And if, worst case, he does the unthinkable and chokes the life out of an unsuspecting Kariana? The pathetic wretch driving Nihlos into ruin? I have the political clout to smooth it over. There are many who would be glad to see her dead.

  Narelki felt a cruel smile spread across her face. Things had a way of working out, in the end, if one had the will to let events run their course.

  For the moment, she had will aplenty.

  The palace of Nihlos served both as a living space for House Tasinal and the seat of the government. As such, it was located not in the hills of the city, but in the very center, a huge spire towering over the others. Bridges and spans along its height connected it to the rest of the city like a spider in the center of its web, sunlight glittering from metal and glass like sunlight on dewdrops.

  Aiul charged up the marble steps of the main entrance two at a time. The palace gates, two huge, rune-graven iron doors, stood open to reveal a well-tended courtyard where several palace workers were having lunch. Beyond lay the main reception hall of the palace proper, glutted with commoners and slaves handling government business.

  There were guards at the gates and throughout the public areas, but anyone could come and go freely. It was only as he was nearing the entrance to the private sections that he found himself chest to chest with Caelwen Luvox. The burly soldier interposed himself bodily, hand on his sheathed blade, his cold, steel-gray eyes boring into Aiul. “Stop.” He said the word the like he might swing an ax.

  Had Aiul not been so angry, he might have had second thoughts, but after confronting Narelki, even Caelwen was less intimidating. “Out of my way. I have no quarrel with you.”

  Caelwen glared back, his usual calm, cool manner missing for some reason. “Aye, is that so? I think you might, after all, House Amrath. I think you fucking well might.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  By now, several onlookers had gathered to witness their argument. Caelwen glanced at them, hatred and disgust on his face, and gestured for Aiul to follow him into a side room.

  “Oh, we don’t need privacy,” Aiul shouted. “I’m happy for the whole world to hear what I have to say!”

  “I am not.” Caelwen’s hard eyes were adamant and commanding. After a moment of glaring back at him, Aiul nodded and entered.

  Caelwen closed the door behind them gently, then, without warning, grabbed two hands full of Aiul’s shirt and slammed him against the wall. The impact was enough to knock the breath from Aiul. Caelwen leaned closer, his eyes brimming with cold fire. “Did you know?” he asked, his voice soft and menacing.

  Aiul stammered unintelligibly, still struggling to breathe. Caelwen slammed him against the wall again, then clamped one gauntleted hand around Aiul’s jaw, and the other about his throat like a vise. “Did you know she was going to kill my men?”

  Aiul strained against Caelwen’s grasp, but it was useless. The man was strong, a trained killer. Struggling against light-headedness and black spots swarming in his vision, Aiul tried to convey that only Mei knew what Caelwen was talking about and that in short order, Aiul would be too dead to be of any use.

  The message seemed, at last, to get through to Caelwen. He relaxed his death grip on Aiul’s throat slightly. “You don’t know a fucking thing, do you?”

  Aiul shook his head as he struggled for breath. Caelwen released him in disgust, then turned and slammed a mailed fist into one of the walls with enough force to crack the stone tiling. Aiul slid slowly to a sitting position, still wheezing.

  “Why are you here, House Amrath?”

  “Fuck you, House Luvox.”

  Caelwen laughed to himself without humor. “Just wondered if you would say. I already know. I just couldn’t put it together. I thought maybe you had been the target instead of Lara.”

  Aiul rubbed at his aching neck. “Stop being cryptic. You’ve had your fun choking me, so I don’t see the point of this guessing game. Get to the point or Elgar take you!”

  Caelwen stared at Aiul a moment as if carefully choosing his words. “She killed them. All of them that knew about the Southlanders.” He looked up at the ceiling and rapped his fist against his leg. “You and I are the only ones left who know
her secret.”

  Aiul felt suddenly and deeply ill. He stammered again, unable to find words. Somehow, the news of the guards’ deaths seemed even more horrible due to his heroic efforts to save several of them. I put them back together, and Kariana tore them to pieces again, as if they were nothing more than paper dolls. “Mei!”

  “Mei, indeed,” Caelwen said. He looked back at Aiul, his eyes now watery and tired. “Are you sure she tried to kill your wife and not you?”

  Aiul coughed and nodded, still rubbing at his throat. “She said she was going to last night. Promised it, actually.”

  “It could have been a mistake.”

  “They went directly for her. I heard her cries and came running with my mace. They didn’t go easy, either. I damned near killed one of them before they broke and ran.”

  Caelwen seemed unconvinced but offered no better theory. “Still, we two are loose threads that should be burned off. No doubt, she’ll slay the Southlanders too, and then we are all doomed.”

  Aiul boggled at this. “What are you saying?”

  “You’ve seen the wounds they gave my men at five-to-one odds, and these are just scouts. How do you think we will fare when they send armies to have their revenge on us for this villainy?” He pounded a fist into a palm. “They will crush Nihlos under their boots, and they will have the right of things. This is how it all ends, and it is out of our hands.” Caelwen offered Aiul a hand up. “So now we talk about you, and what you came here to do.”

  Aiul accepted his help and rose to his feet. His throat still hurt, but this was no time to cry like a child about it. “And?”

  “Go home, Aiul. I can’t let you do this.”

  “What? Are you mad? Now more than ever—!”

  Caelwen hammered a fist against his breastplate. “I have my duty! I cannot simply let you walk in and stick a knife in her!”

  “Elgar take your duty!”

  “It serves Nihlos well, wretch. I might dance a jig to see you had stabbed her in her black heart, but I will kill you to prevent it.”