Alisiyad Chapter 22 ~ Take Me to the King (Part 3)

Suddenly the door opened, and in burst three guards, two carrying an inert form.  The third bowed hastily and said, “My lord, this body was found floating in the River, caught up in the pilings by the South Bridge.”

“Why have you brought him to me?” Leeton stared.

“He was murdered.”  The guards lay the dripping corpse on the floor next to the rug, and the speaker pointed.  “See the mark.”

Russ and Leeton both bent to look.  At first Russ didn’t recognize the face of the dead man, because it was marred by blood.  Words had been carved into his forehead: Take me to the King.

Leeton seemed to forget about Russ in an instant, crying out and dropping his arm.  He fell to his knees on the floor, and Russ blinked, then realized that the body was Currun’s.  Leeton knew the face too.

“Currun,” he said, as if the man was still alive and could hear him.  “What are you doing here?”  Russ felt a buzz of shock run through him, because the King’s tone was one of utter dismay and sadness.

Russ shifted, his chains clinked, and Leeton remembered him.  “He came with you, didn’t he?” he asked, looking up.  “How many of you were there?”

“Only the two of us,” Russ admitted.  But the King didn’t respond, looking distractedly back at Currun.

“Are you certain he’s dead?” he asked, feeling his throat for a pulse.  Then he shook his head, removing his fingers from the cold flesh.  “No.  Never mind.  I see.”  He kept shaking his head, sadly, then sighed, “Currun . . . you foolish, foolish boy . . . .”

He lifted Currun’s head, looking into his disfigured face, then held the head against his chest.  He was silent for a long moment, his own dark head bent over his brother-in-law’s.  Then he spoke quietly, “Did he come to kill me?”

Russ, caught up in staring and trying to understand this unexpected behavior, didn’t realize at first that the question was for him.  “Did he come to kill me?” Leeton repeated in a sudden yell.

“No!”  Russ jumped.  “Just to help free Alisiya.”

Leeton lowered the head.  “‘Take me to the King,’” he read, then dropped the body and scrambled to his feet.  “You freed her, didn’t you?” he asked, cold horror in his voice as the color drained from his eyes and face.

Russ’s voice stuck in his throat and he couldn’t answer.  None of this was as it should be.  Nothing made sense at all.  “I . . . .”

“The tombs,” Leeton said, grabbing Russ and propelling him toward the door.  “If she isn’t there you are in a world of trouble.”

I have to get away, Russ thought as Leeton half pushed, half dragged him along down the halls.  When he sees she’s gone I’m dead.  He looked around with eyes wide, thinking scattered thoughts about wrestling free, running away . . . no he couldn’t run, not in these chains, he could hardly keep up with Leeton as it was.  If only he could get out of the chains.  But the instant he thought it the heavier and tighter they felt, and his muscles tensed as he tripped and lurched forward.  Leeton barely paused to catch him and keep him upright.

They went past the dog kennels, and were hailed by a man in worn leather running toward them.  “King Leeton!” he called, “Another one of your dogs has gone missing, my lord!”  He stopped in from of them, breathing hard from panic and exertion.  “I found Jycobi’s cage empty, and there’s no trace of him anywhere!”

“Jycobi,” Leeton echoed in dismay.  “He was a favorite of hers.  Damn you, Markson,” he turned on Russ with eyes blazing blue fire.  But he only snapped, “Come,” and resumed their trek to the tombs.  “Search everywhere, I want every dog in this palace accounted for,” he barked to the leather clad man.

They entered the garden and then the mausoleum, Leeton demanding the keys from an intimidated guard.  He pulled Russ past the rows of open graves, not seeming to see them, or anything else.  They descended the stairs flight after flight, Russ stumbling in his chains, until Leeton stopped in front of the empty bier.

“Aysha,” he exclaimed, then fell silent with shock.  “Her body is gone.  What have you done with her body?”  He dug his fingers into Russ’s arm, making him cry out.

“Nothing!” he gasped.  “Alisiya was lying there last night.”

Leeton shook his head, touching the empty slab of stone.  “This is my wife’s bier.”

“She said her mother was buried,” Russ ventured.

“No.  I . . . it doesn’t matter,” Leeton’s voice hardened and he jerked Russ away.  He headed to the back of the room, and as they neared the wall Russ noticed a door there for the first time.  It was thick and wooden, obscured by shadows at the very end of the long, corridor like area.  Leeton opened it without using the keys, and pulled Russ inside.

The room was incredibly bright after the dim tombs.  Morning sunlight streamed in from above, falling on rugs and tapestries on the floor and walls.  Russ squinted in confusion but peered up at the skylights in the ceiling. Blinded, he looked back down and rubbed an arm against his eyes.  Leeton let go of him and strode across the room, heading for another door, this one polished and carved into a pattern of diamonds.  As Russ’s eyes adjusted he blinked in wonder at his surroundings; a bright, well-furnished room.  A shelf full of books lined the back wall, and a low comfortable-looking sofa stood covered in throw pillows nearby, under a skylight.  It was a vast room; an easel, a desk and a loom shared spaced to the left of him, where Leeton turned, but to the right Russ saw a dining table with two chairs, and a floral centerpiece.

He felt overwhelmed by the sudden change, from dusty tomb to rich living area.  But he gathered his wits enough to shuffle after Leeton, who flung open the diamond-carved door and went into another room.

There was a gigantic, canopied bed in the room.  Someone lay on in the bed, on top the covers, black hair nestled in the thick pillows.  For a moment Russ thought with shock that Alisiya had come back, but as soon as Leeton saw the woman he said tightly, “It’s Aysha.  My wife.  Her body.”

Russ stepped closer, seeing what seemed like a wax replica of Alisiya with her eyes closed.  Leeton didn’t pause to stare, but turned around, searching over the room with his eyes.  Russ found himself inching closer to the bed, fascinated by the similarity between dead mother and living daughter.  He wondered how the body had been preserved so well for all these years.  Maybe it was wax.

“There’s something in the . . . in her hands,” he said, lifting his right hand slightly to point.  The other hand had to go with it, hanging loosely in the manacle.  He was starting to feel as if the circulation was cut off.

“What?” Leeton returned his attention to the bed, though he could barely seem to stand looking at Aysha.  She was clothed in an emerald velvet dress, with her ice white hands folded over her chest.  A piece of folded paper was pinned beneath them.

Leeton reached out very gently and slipped the paper free, hands shaking but striving to remain under control.  The paper crinkled dryly as he unfolded it, and with hushed curiosity Russ watched him read.

Leeton swallowed, eyes appearing black.  But he did not volunteer to read from the letter.  “She hasn’t tried to run away in eighty years,” he said slowly, folding it back up.  He looked at Russ but didn’t seem to see him.  “Your coming made her flee again.  You and the girl.  Where is the girl?” he asked darkly.

“Arlic’s house,” Russ answered before he could think about it.  “Sleeping . . . .”

“What is special about this Liseli?” Leeton slapped the paper against his hand.  “Would Alisiya really go there to wake her, or is this just a ruse and she has gone somewhere completely different?”

Russ was at a loss.  There were lots of things special about Liseli.  Her flashing green eyes, which could look right through him and then away, leaving him speared like a vegetable on a shish kebob.  The way those same eyes could soften like green moss, in rare and lucky times, and look at him as if he were the tree she grew on . . . even if only he imagined it.  Then there was the light dusting of freckles that bunched together when she wrinkled her nose, or danced on her face when she laughed.  Her laugh was special to him, whether it was mocking or affectionate or something he couldn’t interpret.  He liked it best when he could make her laugh, on purpose.  He loved it when she touched him, even if she was slapping him there was something special about that touch.  And the way she snapped off the ends of her words, or would nod and reason about something that made no sense to him fascinated him all the more.  He felt as if he could watch her forever and still find something to wonder at.  But that was only the surface, what he could almost understand, a very start.

But that wasn’t what Leeton meant, and he wouldn’t have told him even if it was.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “Maybe it is a ruse.”

“It’s the only lead I have,” said Leeton, tightening his grip on the paper.  “I’m going to Elharan.”  He headed back out toward the tombs.  “Follow me.”

Russ clanked after him, frowning.  “Arlic will as soon kill you as look at you,” he said, though he didn’t know if it mattered. “You killed his son.”

“Yes,” Leeton didn’t turn toward him.  “He and his bastard were planning to make a war in my world, sacrifice the lives of their men and mine just to settle a grudge.  That was cause enough to kill him swiftly.”

“But Ilia,” Russ argued, feeling reckless as Leeton’s back was to him.  “She—”

“Was the one who started it all with her delusions of seeing the Child.”  Leeton stopped and wheeled around.  “Do you think I took pleasure in sending my dogs to their deaths to kill the son of man I used to admire?  I did what I had to do.  In the end I saved lives, and preserved peace.”

“But—”

Leeton snorted.  “For all your self righteousness, what about the guard last — ah,” he broke off.  “Currun killed him.  I should have known.”

Russ felt a sense of release.  “I didn’t know what was happening,” he said quietly, breathing out the silent guilt.  “It was so fast and confusing.  I didn’t want anyone to die.”

“Neither did I.  I’ve never wanted anyone to die.  But it always keeps happening, over and over and over again.”  Leeton’s eyes were pale ice and bitter.  “I wanted a world without death, and this is what I have instead.”

Russ didn’t know what to say, and remained silent.

“What would you do if I took your chains off?” Leeton asked, stepping toward him.  “Are you still bent against me despite everything you see, despite the truth, as Arlic and Pillari and Currun all are?  Were.”

Russ shook his head.  “I don’t know what the hell the truth is right now.”  He looked past Leeton at the opulent prison.  “But if I was free all I’d want is to get back to Elharan, where Liseli is.”

A moment later he heard a click from each manacle, and they parted.  He shook them off and they clanked to the ground.  He looked in awe as his wrists, rubbed red and blistering, then up at Leeton.

“Come with me, then, and we’ll see what your ‘freeing’ of my daughter has done,” the King said, smiling thinly.  “But—” he held up his hand “—walk in front.  I don’t like you at my back.”

Russ walked past him, and asked, “What’s Arlic going to do when you show up there?  He’ll—”

“My dogs will accompany us.”  Leeton brushed aside the concern.  “I will take all of them.  My entire pack.  They will protect me against Arlic and his men.”  He paused.  “However, you should beware.  They will do anything Alisiya tells them to, save attack me.  You should know that I cannot stop them from attacking you again, if she wishes it.”

Russ swallowed, feeling his legs weaken.  “I thought you were their master.”

“I was,” said Leeton dryly.  “Then I let her play with them as puppies and she fell in love with them, and stole their hearts from me.  It’s in their blood to love her, now.”

Russ shook his head.  But there was nothing to do besides keep on walking.