The King of Anavrea (Book Two of the Theodoric Saga) (10 page)

Ireic turned to address the council. Smoothly
rotating, he scanned the men for the last speaker. The councilor
had returned to his place, blending in with the crowd of men.

“In the military, where I spent much of my time
before taking the throne, sedition is considered a hanging
offense.” Ireic passed a calm gaze again over the gathering. “And
as a husband, I have the right to bring Councilor Kline personally
before a court of law. He has slandered my wife’s name, claiming
she is a flawed commodity to be traded at will and then discarded.”
Picking out the offender, Ireic announced, “You shall publicly
apologize for your statements about my wife, councilor.”

With great pomp and flare, the man rose. “Your
Majesty, the woman in question is not your wife in the eyes of this
council.” Murmurs erupted in the gathering. The councilor ignored
them and continued. “And as a foreign refugee in our country she
can be put aside, which is my recommendation in light of the
information that has been brought to my attention.”

Anger straightened Ireic’s spine. Fisting his
hands so tight his fingers throbbed, he took a deep breath. Forcing
himself to resist hurdling the partition and throttling the man
took more effort every moment. Doing so would only hurt his image,
not help. Instead, he chose to use words.

“Councilor Kline.” The blaring force of his
voice bounced back at him. “I am a freeborn man and I marry
whomever I choose. The council has no authority to dictate anyone’s
marriage, king or otherwise.”

 “Or the government a slave to the king’s
whims,” High Councilor Lousen replied.

“High Councilor.” Ireic closed his eyes briefly
and tried to quiet the roaring fire in his gut. “Are you accusing
me of asserting my will upon this governing body and the country to
satisfy a whim?” The older man’s prominent forehead came even with
Ireic’s nose. At least a decade older and significantly wider, the
councilor would be laughably easy to subdue in hand to hand
combat.

Physical persuasion has no place in
diplomacy
, Ireic reminded himself.

The man did not meet the king’s eyes as he
counted off on his thick fingers. “You have taken a woman into your
household without the consent of the council. The fact she is
deformed and will contaminate the generations of the royal line has
not stopped you from taking her to your bed. You did not give
thought to your country when you decided to wed her. Now you ask
the council to approve of this union and not protest when the
security of our nation is at stake.” High Councilor Lousen threw up
his hands, feigning exasperation. “Irresponsible, immature, and
foolhardy come to mind.”

Ireic ground his teeth as murmuring rose from
the crowd around them.

“High Councilor and councilors, I am Ireic
Iathan Theodoric, King of Anavrea. You are the King’s Council. Not
a month ago, we signed a treaty with the King of Sardmara. I wrote
my name and title on the parchment and right below the signatures
of the party of councilors that traveled with me. In the treaty, an
agreement of peace and brotherhood, I swore to take the King of
Sardmara’s only daughter as my wife.

“To keep that promise, I traveled to the
northern wildlands, subdued a baron and his forces, returned, and
married the young woman in question before God and man.” Ireic
stressed the word married. “Now, upon returning successful from my
quest, I find my own council conspiring behind my back to remove
the very woman from my side that they strove to place there.”
Taking a deep breath in the uncharacteristic silence, he
continued.

“In the time I have been on this throne, I have
seen more corruption and crime in this body of men than in all my
years on the battle field, side by side with the common citizens.
As king and by the law of the land of Anavrea, I declare this body
dissolved and claim the right of sovereign government as allowed by
our country’s governing articles. High Councilor Lousen…” Ireic
glared at the man next to him. “You are under arrest for inciting
action against the crown. Councilor Kline–”

Turning to where the councilor had been standing
before, Ireic found him gone. Not bothering to scan the room, Ireic
declared even more loudly above the rising clamor of the crowd,
“Councilor Kline is stripped of all titles, lands, and privileges.
He is also to be arrested for slandering my wife, Queen Lirth
Theodoric.”

The room exploded into chaos. Councilors
shouted, arguing amidst the bedlam whether or not the king was in
the right. Many of them shook their fists at him.

Ireic hadn’t originally planned on dissolving
the council, but he had anticipated some strong reactions to his
speech and informed the palace guard of the possibility of a
disruption. Now armed men spilled through both entrances, catching
the flapping limbs of councilors and dragging them from the
room.

The High Councilor disappeared from the center
of the room.

Probably to escape arrest,
Ireic mused.
It would be just the man’s style.

“My Lord King!” The cry came from behind him.
Ireic turned just in time to see a man jump the partition
separating the seats from the floor.

The assailant wielded a sharp blade. Ireic
dodged the weapon, but the man struck, shoulder first, into Ireic’s
middle. They fell to the floor. Ireic took most of the brunt of the
fall since the man landed on him, but he managed to throw the
assailant aside.

Ireic gained his feet and pulled out his eating
knife. Still gasping to regain his wind, he turned to face the
attacker, but guards already surrounded the two of them.

“Spread your hands,” a palace guard ordered.
“The fight is over.” Before would-be-assassin had a chance to obey,
one of the guards knocked him to the ground. Within moments he was
trussed up and led away.

Ireic sheathed his knife and slumped into the
nearest seat as the guards emptied the room. Head in hands, he
hunched over his knees and contemplated the floor between his
feet.

What am I going to do now?
The thought
sat there like a bad meal in his stomach.

“Sire?”

Ireic looked up and into the very concerned face
of his personal assistant. Dorn had been his whipping boy growing
up because the queen mother believed royal children should never be
physically punished. When Ireic entered the army, Dorn became the
prince’s armor bearer. Since Ireic became king, he was his
secretary.

“Sire, are you alright?” Dorn’s long face was
even more lengthy than usual. “Should I fetch the healer?”

“No, Dorn.” Ireic looked back down at the floor.
“I dissolved the council. Will you send word to my brother for
me?”

“Of course.” After a quick shuffling of papers,
Dorn asked, “What do you wish the message to say?”

Ireic closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“Just tell him that the council has been dissolved. I do not want
to see him until after Eve has safely delivered the child and can
travel.”

“I will send it right away, sire.”

“Contact Lord Siver and have him in my study in
four hours along with…” He named three other lords and one of the
military officers that he knew before taking the throne. Then,
while Dorn still scribbled on his paper, Ireic rose.

“Where are you going to be, sire?”

Ireic shot his secretary a longsuffering look.
The man swallowed carefully.

“Just in case I need to contact you,” Dorn
explained.

Ireic nodded and sighed. “I am going to check on
my wife. If anything needs my attention, you will find me in her
apartments.” Turning, Ireic circled the room and exited the hall in
the opposite direction he entered it.

~~~~~~

Lirth heard the door to the hall open and
close.

“Larissa?”

Ireic’s deep voice answered. “I sent her
away.”

Lirth raised her head to greet her husband.
“What is wrong?”

She set aside her stitching. The bundle missed
the table. The thimble bounced across the carpet and rolled across
the wood floor near the wall. She ignored it.

“Why do you think something is wrong?” Ireic
asked. He crossed the room with heavy steps and fell into the far
armchair with a soft thump. Settling deeper into the seat with a
sigh of fabric and upholstery, he groaned.

Thinking as she stood, Lirth crossed to him,
avoiding the small table between. She had bumped into that thing
enough times to never again forget it was there.

“It does not matter,” she replied, catching one
of his hands and kneeling at his feet. The muscles of his forearm
were knotted beneath her touch. His long fingers immediately closed
on hers.

“Just tell me. I might be able to help.”

He sighed and leaned back farther in the chair,
seeking comfort. “I abolished the council.” Lirth rubbed her thumb,
the only part of her hand free of his clasp, across the back of his
fingers. Silence reigned briefly.

Tilting her head so she addressed her hands, she
nodded.

“Why do you nod?” Ireic was so full of tension
it washed over her in waves.

 “Your brother warned me you might.”

Ireic shifted again, but did not speak.

“He did not seem to be clear on when it was
going to happen, but he hinted that you might eventually do
something drastic. What is the next step?”

“I do not know, and it scares me.” The
exhaustion in his voice tugged at her conscience. “I have called a
meeting of the few men I trust in four hours. I wish Trahern was
here. He would know what to do.”

“Then you were not planning to do this?”
Gradually, Lirth eased her hands free. As she rose, she traced her
fingers up his arm and shoulder until she found his head. Her
fingers gently massaged his temples.

“No.” He relaxed slightly. “I was planning on
just being firmer, making sure they understood that I would not be
pushed around anymore. The plan changed when they committed
treason.” Slowly, he rotated his head to ease the tension in his
neck. She dropped her hands to his shoulders. “Even then, I didn’t
see dissolution as the answer until…” His voice trailed off and he
stopped moving altogether. She waited but soon realized he had
lapsed into his own thoughts, leaving her alone.

“Until when?” She prompted.

Ireic started slightly. “They started discussing
exiling you without my approval.” He turned in his chair and
captured her hands. “The fact we are married carried no weight in
the council’s deliberations. They would have turned you out based
on the malicious tale of a councilor. I didn’t realize the extent
they were willing to go to enforce their agenda.”

“Do they know the truth?” Lirth asked.

“Enough to cause trouble. I informed them of the
crucial points.” Rising, he turned to face her. “I came to ask you
to come to the meeting with me. I want you to meet these men and
them to meet you.”

Her mind raced. “You mean you are going to
present these men to me?”

Ireic fell silent. It took her a moment to
realize he had nodded. “I want to make it all clear. I have married
a wise and beautiful woman endowed with all the qualities of a good
queen. Please come.”

Lirth’s stomach tightened at the thought of
facing such powerful strangers. If Ireic trusted and respected
them, they would be perceptive and wise men. She doubted she would
match up to their standards for a queen.

“If you want me there, I will come.”

“I do.” He engulfed her in a warm hug. She had
just begun relaxing into his closeness when he muttered something
about having a great deal to do. Easing her from him, he kissed her
cheek and was gone as abruptly as he had come.

Lirth remained where she was. Her emotions were
too coiled to allow her to sit once again, but she didn’t know the
room well enough to pace. She resigned herself to clasping her
hands and praying.

“My queen?” Larissa’s voice asked hesitantly.
“His majesty said you needed me.”

“Yes.” Lirth dropped her hands to the rough
fabric of her skirt. She needed to dress.

__________

“Larissa, please fetch Isack,” Lirth instructed
as soon as the girl settled the light shawl over Lirth’s
shoulders.

“Yes, your majesty.” The girl exited the sitting
room in a rustle of petticoats. Lirth heard the door to the hall
open and a muffled conversation. She smoothed her skirt nervously
as she rose and then adjusted the soft shawl so it lay without a
wrinkle across her shoulders. Isack was announced by a heavy
footfall just inside the door. “Your majesty?”

“Larissa informs me an hour remains before the
king’s meeting.” Lirth stilled her hands by folding them across her
middle. “Do you know where the king might be?”

“In his book room, your majesty.” The man
replied without hesitation.

“Are you certain, Isack?”

“Yes, my queen.” His voice lightened with
amusement. “As the chief of his bodyguard, I make it my duty to
know his every movement.”

“That is good,” Lirth smiled in the man’s
direction, grateful he hadn’t taken offense at her questions. “I
wish you to escort me there. I need to speak with him.”

“If that is what you wish, your majesty. If you
would follow–” He hesitated. “Majesty, how would you like me to
guide you?”

Lirth smiled up at where she guessed Isack’s
face would be. “If you would lend me your arm, I will gladly
follow.” She offered her right hand in the direction of the man’s
voice. His hand guided it to his forearm.

“Is there anything else I can do?” he asked.
Based on his voice, she would guess he was about the same height as
Ireic.

“Yes, Isack.” She carefully gathered her skirts
in her left hand. “Warn me if we come to any steps.”

“Yes, your majesty,” he agreed with a smile in
his voice. “This way.”