Seer King - The Seer King Part 43

In spite of the summer heat, I felt a chill.

It was the custom of the rich of Nicias to lounge abed until everything, from bath to breakfast, was prepared for them. Then all that was necessary was to step out of the huge new bed and walk about, accepting robe, bath, scrub brush, clothes, food from servants who, Maran advised me, I was supposed to find invisible.

"At all times?' I complained once when one of them had walked in while I was taking a peaceful s.h.i.+t.

I'd bellowed and chased her out-I hadn't had to suffer my privacy being invaded like this since I was a boy at the lycee or in the field on maneuvers.

"At all times," Maran said firmly. "It's one way we high-cla.s.s sorts separate ourselves from you common swine."

"Even when we're doing something like this?" I growled, then rolled her over and bit her on the b.u.t.tocks. She yelped and matters were about to proceed from there when there was a knock, and her personal maid entered.

She carried a tray, and there was an envelope on it. It was the long-awaited, much-feared letter from Maran's father.

Maran huddled next to me, staring at it. "We'll never know what it says until we open it," I told her.

Reluctantly she ripped the seal off and took out the four pages. Maran began reading, and her eyes widened. I thought it was even worse than we'd prepared ourselves for. She finished and handed it to me. "I do not believe it," she said. I read it, and felt as she did.

I'd expected her father to write a scathing note, d.a.m.ning her for her behavior and rubbing her face in her shame. Instead, the letter was quite reasoned. He was sorry her marriage had come to an end, but was not surprised. In fact, he was quite pleased. He had never found the Count Lavedan to be truly worthy of the n.o.bility. He said the only reason he'd agreed to the matcli-and he apologized for not telling his youngest daughter this before-was because of an old and large debt owed by the Agramontes to the Lavedans.

' knew aboutthat" Maran murmured, rereading the letter over my shoulder. "Hernad boasted of it after we were married. He didn't say what it was ... but I gather it involved something embarra.s.sing."

"That's pretty d.a.m.ned awful," I said. Maran shrugged. "The n.o.bility marries for other reasons than love as often as not. I guess that's why so many of us take lovers. And why are you surprised? Doesn't a peasant marry his daughter to a man who owns a bullock so he's no longer forced to drag the plow himself?"

The letter went on. Maran could do exactly as she wished: stay in Nicias, even (hough her father thought that was far too dangerous, even though the mob seemed to have been put in its place by the army, or return home to Irrigon. He would have the family's bankers contact her immediately, and ensure she had full recourse to any gold she needed to properly maintain the Agramonte image, should she decide to stay in the capital. He said he knew she could well be depressed by events, so she was not to worry about money. She could spend like a wastrel until the day she died, and never cut into the Agramonte fortune.

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The last lines really surprised me, coming from a man I envisioned as the most reactionary of country lords, a man who barely would admit to his own humanity, let alone anyone else's: It's hard, my daughter, for an old man such as myself to say how much he loves you, and has always loved you. You came as a surprise in the autumn of my years, and perhaps I haven't cherished you as I should.

You are the dearest in my heart, and I want you to know now, when times are bad, that I stand completely behind you. Our concern with the Lavedans has come to an end, and we shall have no further dealings with the family. I have already sent letters to our family's representatives in Nicias, with orders your marriage is to be legally annulled as rapidly as possible, with the minimum of notoriety. I don't care how or why things happened as they did, nor whose fault it was, although in my heart I wish to believe it was your former husband's. If any of the Lavedans attempt to make a scandal of that matter, rest a.s.sured I shall deal with them personally. I love you and will support you in everything you wish to do, without censure, without blame.

Your father, DatusI put the letter down.

"So what do we do now?" Maran said, looking as shocked as if the letter had disowned her.

"You can keep on being the rich Countess Agramdnte," I said. "And I could go back to biting you on the b.u.t.t," I offered.

She grinned.

"You could do that... or anything else that comes to mind," and she laid back on the bed most invitingly.

I barely had time to spend every other night with Maran, being busy getting the Lancers ready for the months to come.

I'd not, in fact, even been able to attend Seer Tenedos's great speech in the amphitheater.

Troop Guide Karjan came to me and said he was fed up with being a warrant. He wanted to return to just serving me.

I told him to get the h.e.l.l out of my office, I was busy.

"Sir," he said, "I so'jered like you wanted in th' 'mergency. Now there's no more riotin'. Everybody else is gettin' medals. Why can't I have th' one thing I want?"

I said there was no way in the world a troop guide would be permitted to be servant to a domina. I didn't think even generals could have servants of that high a rank.

He looked thoughtful, saluted, and left.

That night he found one of the bars the Golden Helms drank in, walked in, and announced none of them were fit to drink with a real soldier. Ten men charged him, and he managed to beat up six before they knocked him to the floor. The four survivors made the mistake of turning their backs and ordering a celebratory flagon of wine. Karjan rose up, seized a bench, and put all four of them in the infirmary.

Then he proceeded to destroy the wineshop.

Five army provosts showed up, and he piled them up with the shattered Helms, and two teams of wardens, four in each team after that. He was settling into a definite rhythm when the wineshop keeper's wife came up with a smile, a flask of wine ... and a small club hidden behind her back.

Resignedly I paid Karjan's fine, took him out of prison, and, in front of the a.s.sembled Lancers, tore away his rank slashes and reduced him to horseman.

I don't think I'd seen a happier man in months. Karjan actually smiled, revealing he had taken some damage in the battle royal-there were a couple of gaps where teeth had been.

I sighed, told him to a.s.semble his gear and report to my house. Once more I had a servant.

That night, at the mess, Legate Bikaner told me there'd been a pool set as to how long Karjan would hold his rank slashes. It wasn't the first time he'd been promoted, nor the first time he'd calculatedly done something to make sure he was reduced to the ranks.

"Anything higher than lance," Bikaner said, "and he gets upset."

"Who won the bet?"

"One of the new legates," Bikaner said. "It certainly wasn't me. I had my money on one week after being promoted. Guess he thinks a lot of you, sir."

"There," she said, slipping me out of her mouth. "Now we can go to the next step." She was breathing almost as hard as I was.

"Why can't you just keep doing what you were doing?"

"Because we're going to do something new, and it's always you showing me. Now it's my turn."

"Very well. What do I do? Before I get soft, I mean."

"You could drill holes in the wall with that thing," she said. She straddled me, and guided me into her, gasping as I lifted my hips and plunged farther into her body.

"Don't do that," she managed. "Now, sit up, and cross your legs behind me. Put your arms around me, so I don't fall. If you start laughing I swear I'll slay you."

Maran moved her legs around me until she sat as I was.

"Now what?" I wondered. "What do we do next?"

"We don't do anything, we just sit like this ... no, don't move, dammit... and then we're supposed to come together."

"What is this, more of Amiel's s.e.x-magic?"

"No," she said. "But it is from another book of hers I read once."

"Are you sure you took good notes? I mean, this is nice, but nothing's happening. Have you ever tried this before?"

"Shut up. That's none of your business. Of course I haven't! Who would I have to do it with, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d?

"You're supposed to concentrate. Pretend that all you are is c.o.c.k, is what the book said."

We sat together in silence. I honestly tried to obey her orders, closing everything out of my mind, and feeling everyinch of myself inside her. I honestly thought it was silly, but concentrated, and then I could feel my c.o.c.k's head, just touching her womb opening, her inner lips curling around me, feel each inch of the shaft where it touched wet folds, felt my b.a.l.l.s against her outer lips.

Maran gasped. "Don't move, I said!" 'Tm not! I didn't! Now you're moving." "No I'm not," she said, "not down there." Now she was panting, and her legs pulled tight against my back. "Oh, G.o.ds," she moaned. I vow I was perfectly still, but I could feel blood roaring, and the world narrowed until all I knew was Maran's b.r.e.a.s.t.s mashed against my chest, my tongue in her mouth and her hot warmth pulling me deep into her and even that vanished in this strange, sudden gift of the G.o.ds.

It took me a long while to come back, and I found myself lying beside her. We were both drenched in sweat and I felt as helpless as a newborn kitten.

"You can borrow that book again if you want. That was kind of... interesting," I managed.

"Mmm," she mmmed, and we lay quietly, she pulling gently at the still-spa.r.s.e hairs on my chest. "Will there be war?" she said suddenly. "That's a h.e.l.l of a question at a time like this." "Will there?" I sighed.

"Yes. I'm afraid so."

"Afraid? Don't lie to me, Damastes. I know you're a soldier, and I know you'll go off to fight. That's what your life is, what it always will be, I guess." "Yes."

"When you do," she said, "I hope I am carrying your baby." I felt very proud, but very unsure as well.

Before Mar&i I'd never considered children, feeling that I'd most likely marry when I retired from the service, if I lived that long, and would father the appropriate number of descendants as my father and grandfather had.

"I would love to have your son," she said.

K.

"What's the matter with daughters?" "Nothing. Later. First a boy."

"And you said I was forward," I complained. An idea came. I started to discard it as if not foolish, certainly sudden and premature. But my mouth was obeying its own laws, and I said, "But I can't see any of my children being b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

"Don't worry aboutthat," Maran said. "No acknowledged child of an Agramonte is a b.a.s.t.a.r.d." "That wasn't what I meant." "You mean ..."

"I mean. Countess Maran Agramonte, would you consent to wed a poor domina of cavalry who would do nothing more than adore you for as long as Msu allows him foot on this earth? I love you, you know."

There was a long silence, and I realized Maran was crying. I felt monstrous, not knowing what I'd done wrong. "I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to offend." "You didn't, oh, Damastes, you didn't. You never can. But... did you know no one ever proposed to me? It just sort of became a given sort of thing I'd marry.

"Isn't it funny? I can't remember anybody, except my mother and maybe a nurse or two, saying they loved me, not ever. Hernad never did. Then you say it to me, and then my father says it..." She began crying again. I held her until the storm pa.s.sed.

"You know," I said, "if it bothers you, I can withdraw the question. I mean, it's probably mad to even think about something like that. You've got all of the stuff to go through getting your marriage annulled, and I've heard that n.o.body is supposed to marry on the rebound, not for a while, at least, and-"

"Shut up, Damastes. The answer is yes. Of course I'll marry you."

As she spoke, I was one with the G.o.ds, almost crying, myself, in joy. She went on: "You know it can't happen at once. No matter how skilled my father's factors are, it'll take time for the annulment," she*said. "Since I'm an Agramonte, the matter will have to go before the Rule of Ten. I'm sorry."

"Don't," I said. "It'll give me a reason to fight hard, so I can come back to you."

"Not too hard," she said. "Because youmust come back."

"Oh, I shall, I shall." I may have been young and full of foolish bravado, but Iknew I'd come through the war unscathed, and I don't know how I knew it.

"So we are engaged," she said. "We should do something to celebrate."

"I know just the thing," I said.

"I know you do," she said throatily, lifting her legs around my waist as I grew within her. "I know you do."

If I could have reached out and stopped time just then, I would have, lying as we were, me still inside her, feeling the moisture of love on our thighs. I wish now it had been possible; pain, sorrow and betrayal would never have happened.

But I couldn't, and they did.

Three days later, the response came from Chardin Sher. The special envoy returned, on a stretcher.

His tongue had been torn out.

Now it was civil war, and the declaration came within hours.

General Rechin Turbery, having experience fighting the Kallians, chose to lead the campaign personally.

The elite units brought to Nicias would be sent against the Kallians, as well as all other regiments who were able to be moved from their area of responsibility.

This war would not be fought by bits and pieces, but as a mighty sledgehammer. It wasn't quite civil war, but close enough so it had to be settled quickly and harshly.

Everyone knew that our supposedly friendly neighbor, King Bairan of Maisir, would be very concerned with the course of events, and any weakness on the part of the Rule of Ten might well spark interest about our vulnerability.

K.

But the best came last. Seer Laish Tenedos was named to a new post: sorcerer of the army. He would have as many staffers as he wished, and was responsible only to General Turbery.

Now, finally, he would have the chance to develop his strategies and tactics.

Now we might see a new kind of war.

It was a gray morning, not yet dawn, with cold mist blowing off the river. Horseman Karjan had both Lucan and Rabbit packed and ready. He politely sat his horse, looking away from the house as Maran and I came out.

I kissed her, and never wanted the kiss to end.

I wondered if this was all history, a man kissing a woman good-bye and going away to fight, and wondered why we so loved to kill each other.

I put the thought aside and kissed her once again.

Again, I saw that look of a hurt animal, and turned away.

I walked to Lucan and stepped up into the saddle.

Margin watched me, her face utter misery, her hands clasped in front of her.