Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [411]
When he flung the door open, the Royal First Phagorian Guard stood on duty outside, its ranks of long jaws and horns unmoving. That was something worth seeing anyway, he told himself, trying to dispel his black mood.
He walked in the air before the heat rose. He saw the sea and felt the breeze, and heeded them not. Before dawn, while he still slept heavily from drink, Esomberr had come to him. Beside Esomberr stood his new chancellor, Bardol CaraBansity. They had informed him that the Madi princess he intended to marry was dead, killed by an assassin.
Nothing was left.
Why had he gone to such trouble to divorce his true wife? What had possessed his mind? There were severances the hardiest could not survive.
It was his wish to speak to her.
A delicacy in him restrained him from sending a messenger up to her room. He knew that she was there with the little princess Tatro waiting for him to leave and take his soldiers with him. Probably she had heard the news the men had brought in the night. Probably she feared assassination. Probably she hated him.
He turned in his sharp way, as if to catch himself out. His new chancellor was approaching with his heavy, determined tread, jowls jolting.
JandolAnganol eyed CaraBansity and then turned his back on him. CaraBansity was forced to skirt him and Yuli before making a clumsy bow.
The king stared at him. Neither man spoke. CaraBansity turned his cloudy gaze from the king’s.
‘You find me in an ill mood.’
‘I have not slept either, sire. I deeply regret this fresh misfortune which has visited you.’
‘My ill mood covers not only the All-Powerful but you, who are not so powerful.’
‘What have I done to displease you, sire?’
The Eagle drew his brows together, making his gaze more hawklike.
‘I know you are secretly against me. You have a reputation for craftiness. I saw that gloating look you could not conceal when you came to announce the death of – you know who.’
‘The Madi princess? If you so distrust me, sire, you must not take me on as your chancellor.’
JandolAnganol presented his back again, with the yellow gauze of his tunic patterned red with blood like an ancient banner.
CaraBansity began to shuffle. He stared up abstractedly at the palace and saw how its white paint was peeling. He felt what it was to be a commoner and what it was to be a king.
He enjoyed his life. He knew many people and was useful to the community. He loved his wife. He prospered. Yet the king had come along and snatched him up against his will, as if he were a slave.
He had accepted the role and, being a man of character, made the best of it. Now this sovereign had the gall to tell CaraBansity that he was secretly against his king. There was no limit to royal impertinence – and as yet he could see no way to escape following JandolAnganol all the way to Oldorando.
His sympathy with the king’s predicament left him.
‘I meant to say, Your Majesty,’ he began in a determined voice, and then became alarmed by his own temerity, looking at that bloody back. ‘This is just a trifling matter, of course, but, before we set sail from Ottassol, you took from me that interesting timepiece with three faces. Do you happen to have it still?’
The king did not turn or move.
He said, ‘I have it here in my tunic.’
CaraBansity took a deep breath and then said, much more feebly than he intended, ‘Would you return it to me, please, Your Majesty?’
‘This is no time to approach me for favours, when Borlien’s standing within the Holy Empire is threatened.’ He was the Eagle as he spoke.
They both stood, watching Yuli root in the bushes by the palace. The creature pissed after the retromingent fashion of his species.
The king began to walk with measured pace in the direction of the sea.
I’m no better than a damned slave, said CaraBansity to himself. He followed.
With the runt skipping beside him, the king speeded his step, speaking rapidly