Dave Duncan – The Living God – A Handful of Men. Book 4

She looked up then, shocked beyond measure, but the coalblack eyes were solemn. If this was some cruel mockery, then it was well hidden.

Shandie had always been thin. He was thinner. He was weatherbeaten and needed his second shave of the day. His plain gray doublet was nothing like the finery he had sported m the Rotunda. His eyes were burning brighter than ever. She could not meet them.

He seemed puzzled by her reaction. “Did you think . . . I honor his memory! If Ylo were here, I would make him a prince of the realm! He died defending my child and the woman I love—how can I not honor him? Had he lived, how could I not reward him? Nothing would be too good for him.”

The lump in her throat was choking her. Why must he speak of Ylo?

“And he saved me, too, Eshiala. Did he tell you of that?” She shook her head, staring at the hearth.

“No, he wouldn’t. Ylo never saw himself as a hero, although he was, many times. He never took himself seriously. And he saved you at Yewdark. Oh, that unspeakable Ionfeu! If I ever set eyes on that man again, I shall have him racked!” Shandie growled furiously. “Hardgraa, too. Idiots! Blundering, witless idiots!”

“They meant well,” she whispered.

“So did I, and I left you in the care of a pair of bungling cretins! Will you ever forgive me?”

“My lord! It is I who must ask forgiveness.”

“No, it isn’t!” Shandie snapped. He was blushing like a boy. “Eshiala, I was not faithful to you!”

But . . .

“I let Ylo talk me into . . . No, I will not blame him! I am responsible for my own sins. Waitresses, bar girls! It was disgraceful, and I am abjectly, thoroughly ashamed! I never did that before, you know, and I swear I never will again. Please, please, will you forgive me?”

She felt her face flame. “You mock me, my lord!”

“No! Never!”

“But Ylo and I—”

“That was nothing! You thought I was dead, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes . . .

“I did not have any such excuse!”

“Ylo said the gobl—”

“He wasn’t lying. He saw me go down and the goblins take me. That’s what he told you, isn’t it? Well, then, Ylo did not lie to you. You believed yourself a widow. I knew I was committing adultery.”

This was all, crazily, backward! A married woman carrying another man’s child and her husband was asking forgiveness? She blinked tears away. “But I knew how Ylo was with women and I let him . . .”

“Ylo?” Shandie was trying to smile, although the red flames still burned on his cheeks. “Ylo was the most incredible womanizer the Impire has ever known. Of course I should have guessed what was going to happen when he said he had seen the most beautiful woman in the world in the magic pool—who else could it have been? But I didn’t. You had no one else to turn to. You made the only possible decision. He didn’t bargain, did he?”

“No. Never. It—”

“I was sure he wouldn’t have. That was not his way. He would never have stooped to blackmail. He enjoyed the sport too much. But then he married you, right? And he gave his life for you! That’s different. That’s not the game he played with the others. Ylo loved you. He must have loved you. And you must have loved him? Must still love him, love his memory?” She nodded, utterly bewildered.

Shandie sighed. “Who can blame you? Not me! I left my wife in the care of a blockhead and went off whoring across Julgistro! I need forgiveness far more than you do. If Ylo had . . . This is easy to say now, Eshiala, but I swear I mean it. If Ylo had survived and the two of you wanted to live together, then I would agree to it. Divorce or something . . . I don’t know how it could have been done, and it doesn’t matter now, because he isn’t. But I swear I would not have stood between you.”

“But why? Why?”

“Because I owed him my life. Because he was my friend and I admired him. Above all because I want you to be happy”

Nothing was coming out the way she had expected. Shandie was not behaving like a wronged husband at all. He was certainly not behaving like Shandie, cold and inscrutable. She had been prepared for that. Even bluster and threats would have been easier to deal with than this.

“I carry Ylo’s child!”

He nodded. “So Inos told me. And Rap told her. And Rap, says it’s a girl, so it—she, I mean—she won’t come between Maya and the throne. And if we—” He stopped and swallowed. “If I later have a son, then he will take precedence, so it will matter even less. Bring forth Ylo’s daughter, darling, and we shall raise her as our own.” He smiled sadly, as if hurt by her astonishment. “Did you think I would abandon a child of Ylo’s? Or of yours? Never! Nobody will know. As far as the world is concerned, you and I have been living together as man and wife all these months, so she will be another princess, Maya’s sister.”

He held out his hands. She took them. Her fingers were icy and his were hot. He stood up, raising her. She braced herself, thinking he would kiss her, but he led her across to one of the two matching, overstuffed chairs, then turned and went to sit on the other. He stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles, and studied her.

“I have much unhappy news,” he muttered.

“My lord?” She saw him wince. “I mean, what news?”

“Well, first, your sister is far from well. Emthoro’s in even worse condition. They have both had an Evilish, terrible time. I got a couple of sorcerers to help, and they did help them a bit, but they’re both in need of a lot of care.” He glanced around the friendly, cozy parlor. “I wonder if Queen Inos would take Ashia in? A quiet little refuge like this may be exactly what she requires.”

Ashia? In a backwater hickdom like Krasnegar? Boggle! Shandie scratched his cheek and studied his boots. “You want to stay here for a while? You and Maya?”

“I haven’t thought about it.” She had expected to be told what to do, as always. Was this Shandie’s own idea, or Inosolan’s?

“It might be a good idea, you know! Eshiala, I had no inkling—The Impire’s in chaos! Not just Julgistro and Pithmot—all of it! The army’s wandering all over the place, there’s famine and riot and . . .” He shook his head. “. . . and chaos! Why open revolution hasn’t broken out already, I have no idea. Thank the Gods we now have sorcery to help us. At least I hope we do! Rap’s working on the wardens and this new council of his right now.” He thumped a fist on the arm of the chair and a cloud of dust rose. “Gods! I hope he can pull it off!”

King Rap? Pull what off?”

Shandie looked up again, and she saw a worry there she had never seen before. ”Don’t you understand? If votarism reappears, then all the sorcerers will vanish again. And if that happens, then everything’s going to fall apart! We need them desperately! Zinixo may not have been the prophesied disaster at all. He’s gone, but the millennium will still happen. And it’s all my fault!”

“Yours? But that’s not fair!”

He shrugged. “Who ever said anything about fair? As far as the people are concerned, I’ve been imperor for half a year and just about destroyed the Impire! They’re burning me in effigy.”

“Shandie, that’s terrible! Awful! Can’t you explain?”

“No.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Who would believe me? It would seem like the most absurd excuse ever invented. `That wasn’t me, it was my cousin, and he couldn’t help what he did, either’? The Senate would chain me up in the violent wing. No, it’s going to take years to put things back together.” He sighed, and she saw how tired he was.

“The Senate?” he muttered “Oh, the Senate! And the consuls!” He cursed bitterly. She had never heard him use such language. Perhaps he was only thinking aloud, but she had never heard him do so before. He had never, ever, mentioned anything to do with politics in her hearing. ”Those consuls have got to go! Oh, by the way—I postponed the coronation. The treasury can’t stand anything like that just now. Even the rich . . .”

He scratched his chin and looked at her quizzically. “Something Ylo said once . . . He told me you don’t enjoy formal balls and parties?”

“Enjoy them? I detest them! You mean you didn’t know that?” How could he possibly not know the terror she felt? Some nights she had been almost ill beforehand.