Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [440]
As he descended the staircase, his armourer came at the run after him, and spoke.
‘Sire, I had no response to my knock at your door earlier. Forgive me. I have the prisoner you named in my room, tied in the garderobe. I will watch him till the ship is ready. Tell me only what time I can smuggle him aboard.’
‘Plans may be changed, Fard Fantil.’
The king’s manner as much as his words alarmed the armourer.
‘Are you ill, sire?’ Said with an ill-favoured glance upwards from under his brows.
‘Go back to your room.’ Without a backward look, the king continued to descend, down to the ground floor and down again to the Royal Chapel. He was the last to enter. The introit was playing on vrach and drums. All eyes turned upon him as he walked stiffly, like a boy on stilts, to mount into the box beside Sayren Stund. Only Stund remained gazing towards the altar, eyes blinking rapidly, as if unaware of anything amiss.
The royal box was set apart, in front of the congregation. It was an ornate affair, its carved sides decorated with silver. Six curving steps led up to it. Ranking just below it was a plainer box, reached by only one step, where Queen Bathkaarnet-she sat with her daughter.
JandolAnganol took his place beside the other king, staring ahead, and the service proceeded. Only after the long hymn of praise to Akhanaba did Sayren Stund turn and gesture to JandolAnganol, just as he had done on previous days, to read a part of the Testament.
With slow pace, JandolAnganol descended the six steps, walked across the black and red tiles to the lectern, turned, and faced the congregation. Absolute silence fell. His face was as white as parchment.
He confronted their massed stoney regard. He read curiosity, covert smiles, hatred. Nowhere did he detect sympathy, except on the face of the nine-year-old girl, who shrank down beside her mother. She, he observed, as he directed his full regard at her, mustered the old Madi Look of Acceptance, as she had when first they met.
He spoke. His voice sounded surprisingly feeble but, after a faltering start, gathered strength.
‘I wish to say – that is. Your Royal Highnesses, Nobles, All, I would say – you must excuse me if I do not read, but instead take this opportunity to address you direct in this holy place, where the All-Powerful hears every word, and looks into every heart.
‘I know he must look into your hearts and see how much you wish me well. Just as much as I wish you well. My kingdom is a great and rich one. Yet I have left it to come here almost alone – almost alone. We all are in quest of peace for our peoples. That quest has long been mine, and my father’s before me. My life’s quest is for the prosperity of Borlien. So I have sworn.
‘And there is a more personal quest. I am without that thing which a man most desires, even above his service to his country. I lack a queen.
‘The stone I set rolling half a year ago still rolls. My resolve was then to marry the House of Stund’s daughter; that intention I shall now carry out.’
He paused as if himself alarmed by what he was about to say. Every eye in the chapel lit on his face to search out the story of his life inscribed there.
‘It is therefore not only in response to what His Royal Highness, King Sayren Stund, has done that I announce here, before the throne of one who is above all earthly power, that I – King JandolAnganol of the House of Anganol – intend to unite the nations of Borlien and Oldorando in a blood bond. I mean to take in marriage as soon as is possible the prized and beloved daughter of His Majesty, Princess Milua Tal Stund. The solemnisation of our nuptials will take place, Akhanaba willing, in my capital city of Matrassyl, since I am desired to leave for there today.’
Many in the congregation jumped up, in order to see how Sayren Stund responded to this astonishing news. When