Chapter XXVIII

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound kept Grigori up all night. Not that it was easy to sleep anyway on a cold, hard floor with a moth-eaten blanket, but that incessant dripping didn't make it any easier. He couldn't even tell where it was coming from. He'd looked all over, tried to follow the sounds, but it seemed it was coming from somewhere outside his cell, somewhere he couldn't plug up. He was starting to understand why so many prisoners he interrogated cracked so quickly. He'd been fed and treated fairly, other than being locked up. He'd not been starved like his prisoners typically were. After just a few days in the cell he already wished there was something Sahar wanted to know, something he could tell him just so that he could be taken out of that cell and given a good night's sleep. Being out of the Inquisition for sixteen years had changed him. There was a time that he hated the very idea of comfort, and was accustomed to pain and suffering. Now he was much weaker.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Driiiiiip. Drip. Dripdrip. If the rhythm was perfect, static at all times it wouldn't be so bad, but the tiny variations were making it unbearable. The dungeons were the quietest part of the entire castle. Jachai usually just executed his prisoners, except in the rare case that he needed information from them. All this silence made that damnable dripping impossible to ignore. It sounded loud in his ears, like they were horseshoes, not drops of water, hitting the ground over and over.

His unintentional focus on the constant dripping was broken when the door to the dungeon creaked open and he could hear the sound of multiple pairs of boots on the hard floor. Finally! Something to take his mind off the dripping.

Sahar stood over Grigori, with three castle guards behind him. “How are you doing?” Sahar asked.

“I could use an extra blanket,” Grigori said with a smirk. “And if someone could do something about that damned dripping I would do anything for him!”

“What dripping?”

“Listen!” said Grigori.

The five of them were silent for a few moments. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. “I don't hear anything,” Sahar said. Grigori was convinced that this meant Sahar was completely insane. “Anyway,” Sahar continued, “You won't have to stay here any more, so it's a moot point.”

“What? Why?”

“His Excellency wants to use you in a prisoner exchange, you'll be given to Queen Aryn in exchange for Marquis Husam.”

“Trade a commoner with no power or money for a nobleman with both power and money. Aye, sounds like a fair trade.”

“Grand Duke Jachai seems to think so, given the Queen's history with you.”

“Is Husam the one I heard about who was killing kids?”

“No, that was Countess Yael, of Laherig. Marquis Husam was accused of enslaving children from Sabura.”

“What is it with you lords and children?” Grigori said. “Well, if Queen Aryn's smart she'll demand a lot more than just me for Husam's freedom. Or just not give him up at all. Ever.”

Sahar shrugged. “I'm just following orders here. His Excellency wants you for a possible trade, it's my job to send you to him.”

“Well, thank you. I was getting tired of this cell anyway.”

One of the three guards with Sahar unlocked the cell, and the other two walked in and placed both of Grigori's hands in manacles and dragged him out of the cell. Grigori did not struggle, last thing he wanted was for them to decide to throw him back in the cell.

“I'm really sorry about all of this,” Sahar said.

“Sorry? You're moving me out of this cell! Don't be sorry!”

“I mean that you were locked up in the first place.”

Grigori shook his head. “If you hadn't kept me locked up Jachai might have had me killed. You've done well by me.” Sahar shrugged again and gave a guilty grin. “Take care, Duke Sahar, and be a better man and ruler than your mentor proved to be.”

“I will.”

“Grand Duke Jachai,

“While I understand your arguments as to the reasons why Mahla should be Queen and not Aryn I am afraid that it is the Church's official position that we disagree with you. We know what the scriptures say about Melech's line, but we also understand that ruling Arx is about more than blood, it is about virtue. Queen Aryn had to know that some of the decisions she was making were dangerous, and yet she chose to make them anyway because she believed they were the right thing to do. A true king or queen does the right thing, regardless of how it looks. Your assumption that she is falsely accusing noble lords and ladies of crimes so that she can take their land is baseless and foolish. I oversaw the Countess' trial myself and her guilt was beyond obvious. As such I must officially say no, I will not vote to remove Queen Aryn from power. The Church is satisfied with her rule. Hopefully you will see the light and realize that she is the correct heir to the throne.

“With Blessings,

“Arch-Bishop Livana”

Jachai could not have been more disgusted as he read the letter. He knew the history of the realm, the history written in the Sacred Scriptures. According to everything he'd ever read the bloodline of Melech was sacred, no one but his descendants were allowed to sit on the throne. How was it that the Arch-Bishop was allowed to deny this? To treat it like it didn't matter? What was happening to Arx? Where had all the traditional values gone? It was as if when the Obelisk of the Law was destroyed sixteen years ago the Law itself had died with it. To think that such a letter ended with the phrase “With Blessings.” The very thought made Jachai sick, and for a moment he considered crumpling the letter and throwing it in the fire.

He needed it, though, to show the other lords at Migdal keep.

“The Church has become corrupt!” Count Tovi announced.

“That borders on blasphemy,” Mahla said.

“It would be blasphemy if he said God was corrupt,” Osias said. “No, the Church is no longer following God's will, no longer fulfilling his wishes. That's what makes them corrupt. It's not the first time it's happened either. The prophetess Umai exposed corruption in the Church centuries ago and hundreds of priests were swallowed up by the ground as a result.”

“Fair enough,” said Mahla. “So what's our next step?”

“We start gathering the armies,” Jachai said. “And we stick to our plan of trading Grigori for Marquis Husam. In the mean time, I'll write a letter to Queen Aryn, asking her to step down in order to avoid this war.”

“Really?” Shiloh raised a skeptical eyebrow to this. “You're going to ask that greedy witch to surrender?”

“If there's even the slightest chance that she might and that we can avoid war then we have to take that chance!” Jachai said. “There's little chance of her winning the war, by now she must know this is so. If we can use that to avoid war altogether then we'll save thousands of lives.”

“It's probably folly, but if you want to try then by all means.”

. . .

“Mother!” Aryn called out, storming down the halls of the castle as she unintentionally crinkled a rolled up letter in her fist. Servants darted out of the Queen's way, and Shamira and Tamas followed Aryn as best as they could. They apologized on Aryn's behalf to the castle staff who had been pushed aside. “Mother! We need to talk! Now!”

Aryn dashed all over the castle, trying to find Sarahi. Finally, the door to Sarahi's room opened, and Sarahi stepped out, Milo close behind her, “Yes, Aryn, what is it?”

“There you are! Ah, both of you! Inside, now!” Aryn pointed inside Sarahi's room. Milo and Sarahi stepped back inside, with Aryn following. When Aryn saw that Shamira and Tamas were about to follow her into the room she said to them. “Not you two, you stay out here!”

“Yes, your majesty!” both of them said in unison.

Aryn slammed the door once she, Sarahi, and Milo were all in the room together.

“Are we to be put in time out?” Milo asked.

“This is serious!” Aryn said. “Read this!” She pushed the letter into Sarahi's hands.

Sarahi unrolled the letter and read what it said, with Milo reading over her shoulder.

“Your Royal Majesty,

“I don't know if you know this or not but if you do not I will explain it for your sake. You are not the rightful heir to the throne. Hadar the Martyr King is not your father. Your mother confirmed to my father that in fact Milo is your true father.

“That being said understand that I and the noble houses of Arx are now backing the only clear heir to the throne. Mahla, as the late King Amasi's daughter, is the one who should be sitting on the throne not you. You have no right to the crown you wear or the power you wield.

“Many of the noble houses would see you dead for what you have done to Countess Yael and Marquis Husam, but I would rather we resolved this peacefully. I offer you this option: step down. Remove yourself from power and yield the crown to Mahla. You will be allowed to live a peaceful life but as the daughter of a peasant and a noblewoman not as a queen.

“If you do not step down and refuse to surrender then not only will I be unable to protect you but you will be the subject of my ire. You will have started a war by selfishly holding onto what you have no right to have. For that I will see you executed when this war is done. You, your peasant father, and your mother too.

“I hope you will see reason.

“-Grand Duke Jachai.”

Sarahi went white reading the words in the letter. Milo shook his head, “I've been afraid of this. It was only a matter of time before it came out.”

“So it's true?” Aryn asked. “Mother...you betrayed my father?”

“No, Aryn, listen-”

“Or, you betrayed your husband, anyway. How could you do that?”

“There was no betrayal, Aryn!” Sarahi said. “Hadar was a great man, and a great king, but he was also a lover of men!”

“What?” Aryn stared in silence at her mother, dumbfounded.

“Yes, you heard that right. King Hadar had no desire for women, he was a lover of men. He married me to keep the kingdom together. He knew full well Milo and I were in love, he even-

“Encouraged us!” Milo interjected.

“Since he could not produce an heir himself he pushed us together so that he could-”

“Claim whatever child we conceived was his,” Milo interrupted again. Sarahi, rather than getting offended that she was being interrupted, merely nodded to Aryn.

Aryn was at a loss for words. A moment ago she'd intended to confront her mother about a horrible affair, her betrayal of King Hadar's trust. She'd been disgusted to think that she was someone born from betrayal. Now everything was different. She felt that she saw her mother, and her father, for that matter, for the first time. How long had her mother and Milo been hiding that they were in love, that Aryn was their daughter? How much was it torturing these two that they could not show affection for each other in public for fear of arousing suspicion? How much had these two sacrificed for the realm? Their very hearts?

“Then...the other part of what Jachai says is true...” Aryn said. “I have no legal claim to the throne.”

“The Council named you Queen,” Sarahi said.

“That means you have the right to rule,” said Milo.

“Not if the Council made me Queen under false pretenses!” Aryn said.

Sarahi patted Aryn's shoulders. “See here, I doubt you're the only one the Grand Duke has told that he knows your true heritage. That being said, the other members of the Council know now.”

“If they didn't already,” Milo interjected. “Hard as we tried to hide it I think a lot of people knew Hadar loved men. A certain man in particular.”

“And if the Council decides you were made Queen based on false pretenses then a two-thirds vote from them would depose you.”

“If Jachai's writing to you, asking you to 'step down,' he obviously already tried to get the rest of the Council to depose you and failed.”

“Think about it, Aryn, he's not threatening to go to the Arch-Bishop and the Chancellor to convince them you need to be removed from power, he's threatening outright war!”

“Only a man who has no legitimate leg to stand on threatens force to get his way.”

With how well these two finished each other's sentences, spoke as if they were one person, and otherwise worked well together Aryn began to wonder how these two managed to keep their love mostly a secret all of these years. She'd never seen them talk together like this before, but she still had to wonder how even she hadn't known all this time these two were in love. And now that she looked at Milo's features more carefully she could see her own features in his face. The same hooked nose, the same wry smile, and her hair had always been darker than her mother's. That had always made her wonder, since King Hadar was always described as having blonde hair. Indeed, all his portraits portrayed him with soft, beautiful golden locks.

More important, though, was what they were saying. “That's fair, I have a legal claim to the throne. Being Queen is about more than blood. But then, aside from what I can do, what about what I should do? If I can avoid war by allowing them to make Mahla Queen...”

“Listen to yourself!” Milo said. “You can avoid war by letting them make Mahla Queen? The woman who hired an assassin to murder your husband on your wedding night? Not only is that a horrible injustice, but you can bet it won't prevent war!”

“The King of Uvino wants justice for his son's murder,” Sarahi said. “He already said the kings of many other Western cities owe him and will come to his aid. Either he'll be backing you fighting to keep Mahla off the throne, or he and his allies will be attempting to invade Arx!”

“Besides,” Milo said. “Can you be sure that Mahla would be a fair and just queen? We're talking about a former mercenary here, someone whose previous profession was to kill for a living. Sure, knights and soldiers kill too, but they are officially part of the army, they swear oaths of loyalty to the kingdom, or to their lords; they do what they do because someone needs to do it. Mercenaries' loyalties are always with whomever pays them the most!”

“That's all true,” Aryn said, “But she's the late King Amasi's daughter!”

“Is she?” Sarahi asked. “What proof does she have of that? Some letter she showed you?”

“Letters can be forged, Aryn!”

“Or stolen. For all we know Mahla killed Amasi's real daughter and took the letter from her.”

Milo looked at Sarahi, “That's a good point! I never thought about that!”

“What it comes down to is this,” Sarahi said. “Do you feel right about leaving the kingdom in Mahla's hands? Do you think you could live with that decision? Giving power to a mercenary, a murderer, and possibly a con artist? Letting someone not supported by the Council, which is a vital part of our kingdom's laws and traditions, take control of Arx?”

“No...no, I don't believe I could,” Aryn said.

. . .

“She's responded!” Jachai said as he excitedly took the letter to his guest chambers in Count Osias' castle. The letter was accompanied by a small black, leather-bound book, which Jachai was sure would make more sense once he'd read the letter. He broke the seal he opened the letter, only to find that it was the same letter he'd sent to Aryn, but with markings in red pen throughout.

“Your Royal Majesty,

“I don't know if you know this or not[,] but if you do not I will explain it for your sake. You are not the rightful heir to the throne. Hadar[,] the Martyr King[,] is not your father. Your mother confirmed to my father that[,] in fact[,] Milo is your true father.

“That being said[,] understand that I and the noble houses of Arx [the noble houses of Arx and I] are now backing the only clear heir to the throne. Mahla, as the late King Amasi's daughter, is the one who should be sitting on the throne[,] not you. You have no right to the crown you wear or the power you wield.

“Many of the noble houses would see you dead for what you have done to Countess Yael and Marquis Husam, but I would rather we resolved this peacefully. I offer you this option: step down. Remove yourself from power and yield the crown to Mahla. You will be allowed to live a peaceful life[,] but as the daughter of a peasant and a noblewoman[,] not as a queen [Queen].

“If you do not step down and refuse to surrender [poor and confusing wording] then not only will I be unable to protect you but you will be the subject of my ire. You will have started a war by selfishly holding onto what you have no right to have [very poor wording]. For that I will see you executed when this war is done. You, your peasant father, and your mother too [Sentence fragment].

“I hope you will see reason.

“-Grand Duke Jachai

“[This letter is riddled with mistakes. Please consult the enclosed book when drafting future correspondences. -Queen Aryn]”

The enclosed book, when Jachai opened it up, was entitled, “Grammar and Mechanics for Novices.” In a violent rage Jachai threw the book against the wall and tore up the letter.