Chapter Text
I was frankly miles away, hardly paying any attention to the discussion around the breakfast table. Sontos and I stood behind the table as usual. We were rarely called upon except for the occasional errand.
“Pheris! Are you asleep on your feet?” The king was irritated, as well he might be. I felt myself flushing.
I’m sorry, your Majesty.
“Sometimes I think you may become a useful attendant one day. At other times I remember that children need extra sleep. Sontos, kindly fetch the two letters that are on my desk.”
Mortified, I watched as Sontos went off.
The queen passed baby Eugenia to her husband. The king did not wear his hook to breakfast, when there was a chance the nurses might allow him to hold his son or daughter. The little princess had just been fed and was sleepily blowing bubbles. Eugenides kissed her head.
“You’re trying to soothe me,” he accused Attolia.
“I’m trying to suggest that Pheris is not the only one who may be short of sleep,” she said.
He looked at her. “Well that didn’t work,” he said. “I’m fairly certain Pheris was not at the world’s dullest meeting until late last night – ah. Now I think of it, I do seem to recall seeing him sitting in a corner. Whether he was awake or not, of course, is another question. Perhaps we should take his stool away, except that he can evidently sleep on his feet as well.”
He had another thought. “You were there,” he said to me. “You can write out a report for me. I lost interest after Orutus started pontificating. Keep it brief.”
Yes, your Majesty. Actually I had found the meeting quite interesting and would certainly be able to summarize the details. It would, however, take up most of my free time that day, which was entirely my own fault.
Evidently deciding that he had humiliated me sufficiently, the king picked up the two letters Sontos had put beside him.
“I’ve invited your brother for the autumn festival,” he said.
I looked at him in surprise. The king had mentioned this to me some weeks earlier, but in today’s mood I was surprised he referred to the conversation.
“Well, do you want to see him or not?”
Thank you, your Majesty, that is very kind.
“Stop tormenting him, Gen,” said the queen.
“Why? I’m enjoying it. He goes such a delightful shade. And he’s so much more polite to me.”
I didn’t really mind. The king was in a bad mood and I was an easy target, but it was his nature to be impatient and compassionate, ruthless and generous, and his temper could change in a heartbeat.
I bit my lip, trying not to smile. Maybe something showed in my face.
Eugenides, his wooden hand clamping his daughter to his chest, reached round her to seize an orange from the table and threw it, accurately.
To everyone’s surprise, including my own, I caught the orange before it hit my face. I stood clutching the fruit, mildly triumphant, while everybody laughed.
The queen shook her head, murmuring about bad examples to the children.
“He’s already beyond hope,” said the king, looking at me.
“I wrote to your grandmother,” he said. “I have had a reply from her and one from Juridius. His handwriting is very good.”
This was a pointed taunt. My own handwriting was improving, but still only just legible unless I took great care. The report for the king would take a long time.
Will he come, your Majesty? I wanted to ask if I could see the letter, but didn’t dare.
“Oh yes,” said the king. I looked at him narrowly. Clearly he was back to teasing me, but less unkindly.
“Your brother, his tutor, and several of the Suterpe servants, apparently. Where shall we put them all?”
The palace would certainly be crowded for the festival. But the king had invited them, so he must plan to accommodate them.
I declined to play along. Perhaps an inn?
“Oh, I think we can manage to squeeze the servants in somewhere. Perhaps the tutor too. And one small boy can surely fit in with my attendants.”
Thank you, your Majesty. I knew my face showed my emotions. The king was clearly thinking of the discussion he and I had had. That is very generous, I said, meaning it. Juridius had been banished for good reason.
“Juridius wants to make a formal apology. We should talk about it.”
I should do the same, I said immediately.
“A discussion for another time,” said the queen, rising. “We will be late for the ceremony.”
“Oh, gods forbid we should be late for the ceremony,” said the king feelingly. The queen and king were to approve the completion of the new fortifications at Thegmis.
As he went, he handed me the letters.
*****
The schedules changed after the king’s breakfast. Glad to be off duty, and more than happy to escape the trip to Thegmis, I went to Relius’ chambers, not having paper in my own little cell to write the king’s report. I knocked, but there was no reply, so I tried the door gently. Having been for my lesson earlier that morning, I knew he was awake. The room was empty, so I slipped in quietly and went over to the worktable.
“Pheris?” Relius came in after me. He looked as if he had come from the baths.
Excuse me. Please could I take some paper?
“Certainly. Or you could buy your own.”
Someone else who was not happy with me. I will. I’m sorry. I found some clean sheets of paper and abstracted them.
“You seem a little flustered?”
I have to write a report of last night’s meeting for the king, I said.
“And what did you do to deserve that?” Relius heard nearly everything that went on in the palace, but in this case the source was obvious: Teleus had been present for the long and acrimonious discussion about the fortification of the ports at Roa, which was taking resources from other projects.
I was inattentive at breakfast.
“You are lucky to be alive.”
I know.
“What?” Relius looked at me more closely. “Pheris, sit. Is there a problem with the king?” Relius was devoted to both the king and queen. He set water to heat on the small stove, then settled back in his armchair.
No. The king is well. It was my fault.
“Sit down, preferably in the armchair where you won’t wriggle. If there’s a problem I should know about, tell me. Is it your family?”
No. The king has invited my brother for the autumn festival. I took out the letters. I had intended to read them after writing the report. I pushed them back into my pocket.
I was inattentive. I was thinking it was a waste of time to stand there, when I have an estate to run.
Relius laughed aloud. “Pheris! Finally I have made an impression!”
I knew I had flushed again.
“I know you have accepted your responsibilities,” he said, more seriously. “And isn’t your steward coming to the capital soon?”
Yes. I was thinking of all I have to discuss with him.
“He’s a good man. I was impressed.”
Yes.
“You are very young to take on the estate.”
It will be years before the king will release me, before I can visit the estate.
That stopped Relius. “You’re right, of course. Circumstances have obviously changed, but I can’t see the king letting you go as things are, particularly with Susa.”
I am grateful to the king. I know he took me to secure my loyalty, but he kept me alive, even when I betrayed him. I know why he keeps me close, why he chose you to be my tutor. But there will never be another Erondites like my grandfather. Because of my infirmity, the greater patronoi will never regard me seriously, and I hope the gift of the land may make my loyalties clear and distance me from Susa.
I pushed on, despite my embarrassment. And I am proud to study with you.
“Really? Because sometimes I wonder. That’s a very noble speech, Pheris, for someone who can barely write a legible sentence -”
He paused. “Wait. Isn’t Ion taking a leave of absence?”
Ion’s wife was expecting their first child. Ion had been adamant he could continue to serve as an attendant. The king, wiser after the birth of his own children, had insisted he take leave, and privately did not expect him to return.
“You could ask for, say, a month? The king may be understanding.”
We both thought about this. The king had no land. He hated to deal with problems of roads and bridges, taxes, pensions, and building maintenance. He would probably not understand why I didn’t want to leave everything to my steward, as Orutus and several of the other barons did who stayed at court. Relius likewise had no land of his own, though the queen had offered him a small estate and would surely do so again if he decided to retire from court. But Relius had seen Lateras and met Orlaes and his assistants, and he had been working with me to help me understand how a large estate was run. He knew my enthusiasm.
“Would it be helpful, Pheris? So. Ask him. Marshall your arguments as you’ve been taught. He can only say no.”
I will. Perhaps not today.
*****
I took the paper back to my little room, not wishing to disturb Relius further. I made myself concentrate on the report, making notes on my slate and then copying them carefully onto the clean paper. Finally I finished, and decided I had enough time to look at the letters before my afternoon duty if I didn’t have lunch.
Juridius’ letter first. It was very formal, and I thought his tutor had probably helped him with it, but the expression of regret was clear, and surely it was something he would have thought of himself. I couldn’t imagine my mother or even my grandmother thinking that a formal admission of guilt was necessary or appropriate. It was true that his handwriting was excellent.
Elata’s letter, naturally, was mainly about practicalities. Juridius and his escort would arrive just before the start of the autumn festival, which was three days away now. His tutor would be well provided with funds and would oversee his visit, though she assured the king that Juridius was a well-behaved child. A brief expression of thanks for the invitation concluded the letter: my grandmother was not a keen supporter of the annux.
I sat at the little table, thinking about seeing my brother again. The old baron had sent Juridius to me, wanting to make me his informant among the king’s attendants. My brother had threatened and bullied me. And I had been weak, and given in to him. People had died because of my betrayal. The king had almost killed me because of it. Juridius had been banished.
Juridius had been horribly cruel, and utterly convincing. I had never doubted for a moment that he meant what he said. His apology to me had been sincere and I hoped I had managed to forgive him, but I still wanted to find out what really happened.
I took the letters and my report for the king and went to sit in the waiting room.
*****
I wasn’t really surprised when the king came to my room that night. It was the dog watch, just before dawn, but I was awake already, thinking. In any case I had to get up soon for my lesson. It was no hardship for me, because I liked the early morning calm in the usually bustling palace, and Relius himself had set the time, so I assumed it suited him too. Teleus was usually leaving for his duties as I arrived.
Eugenides sat on the end of the bed. “Your chair isn’t very comfortable,” he complained.
Shall I light the lantern? I sat up.
“I can see well enough, I think. You were already awake?”
I have my lesson soon.
“Is it so late already?” He yawned.
I wondered where he had been. Everyone knew the king sometimes roamed the palace at night, and that he occasionally visited people privately if he wanted to convey something best left unsaid in public. There were also a few people he called on; usually, it seemed, to vent some frustration or other. I was one; I was almost certain Relius was another, and I thought perhaps Kamet was a third, though I was the only one he could rely on to be alone. All of us safe to talk to, I suppose, in our different ways.
“Good catch, today,” he said.
I was pleased to entertain you. Thank you for asking my brother.
“Thank your queen. She pointed out it would be difficult for you to invite anyone, having nowhere to accommodate them.”
My steward is coming to the capital next month. I have arranged for him to stay at an inn. I knew the idea was the king’s, though no doubt the queen had been practical.
“Next time I will bring fruit,” said the king, menacingly.
“I hate this formal apology business,” he went on abruptly. “The last person who tried to do that was my idiot cousin Cleon. I particularly don’t like the idea of an apology from a child. If it had been you, that might be different. No, Pheris! I meant that in some ways, not all, you are older than your years. Perhaps your brother may be the same.”
I thought about it. Perhaps.
“You don’t think so. So. We will meet him, and we will give him a chance to explain privately. Yes, you as well.”
I wish I could apologise.
“No. If we start down that road, you and I, we might never reach the end.”
I hesitated. Your Majesty -”
“Pheris, are we doing this again?”
I have another favour to ask. Perhaps another time.
“Just tell me. I can say no.”
I didn’t want to mention Relius’ name in case the king was angry or offended. I gathered my courage and asked, bluntly and with no explanations, forgetting all about what Relius had said about marshalling my arguments.
I wanted to ask for a leave of absence to visit my estates, perhaps for a month. Perhaps for a month every year.
The king looked at me. “You want to become a proper little baron. You certainly are old for your age.”
I didn’t think I could mind what he said, but that hurt. And the king was both angry and offended.
I will never be a proper baron. I will never be like the others. It was just that there is so much to do. I’m sorry. I will talk to my steward. He will manage. I blinked away tears, hoping it was too dark for him to see.
“As you said, we can discuss this another time.”
He was gone. And now I had to face Relius and not let him see I was upset. I buried my head in the blankets for a few moments so no-one would hear me cry like a baby, then went to wash my face.