Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [289]
‘There is, therefore, everything to be said for your making the match with Simoda Tal of Oldorando, despite her scanty years – everything but one thing. Queen MyrdemInggala. Our present queen is a good and holy woman, and the condition of love prospers between the two of you. If you sever that love, you will suffer harm as a result.’
‘Perhaps I can come to love Simoda Tal.’
‘Perhaps you can, Your Majesty.’ SartoriIrvrash turned to look out of his small window at the sunsets. ‘But with that love will go the bitter thread of hate. You will never find another woman like the queen; or, if you do, that woman will not bear the name of Simoda Tal.’
‘Love’s not important,’ said JandolAnganol, beginning to pace the floor. ‘Survival’s more important. So says the prince. Perhaps he’s right. In any case, what advice are you giving me? Are you saying yes or no?’
The chancellor tugged at his whiskers, ‘The phagor question is another botheration. Did the prince bring it up this morning?’
‘He said nothing on that subject this morning.’
‘He will. The people for whom he speaks will. Just as soon as a deal is made.’
‘So, your advice, Chancellor? Should I say yes to Pannoval or no?’
The chancellor kept his eye on the litter of papers on his table, and sank down on the bench. His hand fluttered a parchment, causing it to rustle like old leaves.
‘You tax me, sire, on a crucial matter, a matter where the needs of the heart run into confrontation with the demands of the state. It’s not for me to say yes or no … Is this not a religious matter, best taken to your vicar?’
JandolAnganol struck his fist on the table. ‘All matters are religious, but in this particular matter I must turn to my chancellor. That you reverence the present queen is a quality for which I respect you, Rushven. Nevertheless, put that consideration apart and deliver me your judgment. Should I set her aside and make this dynastic marriage, in order to safeguard the future of our country? Answer.’
In the chancellor’s mind lay the knowledge that he must not be responsible for the king’s decision. Otherwise, he would be made a scapegoat later; he knew the king’s volatile disposition, dreaded his rages. He saw many arguments for the coalition between Borlien and Oldorando; to have peace between the two traditionally hostile neighbours would benefit all; in that union, if it was wisely handled – as he could handle it – would be a bulwark against Pannoval as well as against the ever-thrusting continent of the north, Sibornal.
On the other hand, he felt as much loyalty to the person of the queen as he did to the king. In his egocentric way, he loved MyrdemInggala like a daughter, especially since his wife had been killed in such horrible circumstances. Her beauty was before him every day to warm his scholarly old heart. He had but to lift a finger, to say vigorously, ‘You must stand by the woman you love – that is the greatest alliance you can make … ,’ but, peeping up at the stormy face of his king, his courage failed him. There was his great lifelong project, his book, to be defended.
The question was too large for any but the king himself to answer.
‘Your majesty will have a nose bleed if you become overexcited. I pray, drink some wine …’
‘By the beholder, you are all that is worst in men, a very grave of help!’
The old man hunched his shoulders further into his patterned charfrul and shook his head.
‘As your advisor, my duty in such a difficult personal matter is to formulate the problem clearly for you. You it is who must decide what resolution is best, Majesty, for you of all people must live with that decision. There are two ways of looking at the problem you face.’
JandolAnganol made towards the door and then stopped. He confronted the older man down the length of the room.
‘Why should I have to suffer? Why should not kings be exempt from the common lot? If I did this thing demanded of me, should I be a saint or a devil?’
‘That only you will know, sire.’
‘You care nothing, do you – nothing about me or the kingdom,