The King of Anavrea (Book Two of the Theodoric Saga) (22 page)

Except for those few stolen moments in the
healer’s tent, he didn’t see Lirth for more than a few moments at a
time. With the separate rooms and the exhausted state he attained
before falling into bed every night, he barely saw her. The Ipore
had said she needed time to recover, but Ireic longed to simply be
near her. He frequently bemoaned the social conventions of court
life that dictated separate living quarters for couples.

Finally, on the sixth day he reached his limit.
The piles of documents grew faster than they could be processed. If
he didn’t do something soon, he would have no time to do something
later.

“I am taking a break.” Ireic announced to
Dorn.

As Ireic rose from behind his cluttered desk,
his assistant lifted his head. Then, before Dorn could form a
response, Ireic walked out the door.

Isack jumped to attention at his station outside
the study door. Ignoring him, Ireic strode past and turned right in
the direction of the Queen’s apartments. He was dimly aware of
Isack following. He was so used to the bodyguard’s presence that he
easily ignored him.

Pleased to find two guards standing before
Lirth’s door, he saluted them as he approached. They snapped to
attention.

“Is the Queen in her rooms?”

“Yes, sire,” the man on the right replied. “Do
you wish for me to announce you?”

Ireic impatiently shook his head. The guard
saluted and opened the door for him. After signaling for Isack to
stay behind, Ireic stepped into the room.

A welcoming silence greeted him, much like it
had when he had come to seek consolation after disbanding the
council. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him.

He knew Lirth didn’t like having servants and
attending ladies underfoot at all times. However, Ireic was
surprised to encounter no one when he walked through to her inner
rooms. He grew even further amazed to find her in the bedroom,
sitting by the window alone. Larissa was almost her constant
companion these days. Yet, the handmaid was nowhere in sight.

As he came to a stop just inside the room, she
raised her head and tilted it to one side as she listened for his
next step.

“Catching a few moments alone?”

Her face blossomed into a smile as she
recognized his voice. When she rose to her feet, the handiwork on
her lap slid to the floor. She stepped toward him, hands
outstretched. Ireic met her halfway.

Enfolding her welcome form in his arms, Ireic
pressed his face into her hair and breathed deeply of her scent. He
loved the way she fitted against him, as if she were a part of
him.

“I missed you.” She pressed her face against his
chest.

He smiled and squeezed her tighter.

After a few moments of just holding her, he
reluctantly loosened his embrace. He had come here for a reason.
“So, how are you healing?” he asked. Catching her chin with his
free hand, he lifted it so he could see her face. The once black
and blue bruises were now patches of green and brown against her
pale skin. Despite the fact that the culprit was dead, Ireic’s
anger rose at the sight.

“The bruises are fading. Larissa says in few
days they will hardly be noticeable at a distance.”

He smiled down at her. “Just in time for the
coronation.”

A flicker of unease passed across her
features.

“What is it?” He stroked her jaw with his thumb.
“Are you nervous?”

Pulling her chin out of his grip, she turned her
face away. “I know I shouldn’t be afraid. After all the Kurios has
brought us through, facing a ceremony shouldn’t be that hard. I
have practiced it enough.”

“But you are still afraid?”

She nodded and stepped closer to him again,
wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against
his chest.

Ireic’s heartbeat accelerated. He had waited too
long to seek her out. All he wanted to do was hold her close and
kiss her senseless. That wasn’t what she needed right now, at least
not yet.

“Beloved.” He leaned close to her ear. “Kurios
has everything in His hands. He will guide you.”

She leaned back and sightlessly regarded him.
Then she smiled, hope spreading across her face. “You accepted
Him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, during those days as we traveled, the
Kurios laid a heavy hand upon me. ‘My sin was ever before me’ as
that one king said. I could not escape. Your peace haunted me as
well. Finally, I set aside my stubborn will. Oh, Lirth.” He held
her close. “You were right. He gave me a peace like I have never
experienced.”

She returned his embrace. Then a tell-tale
dampness where her face rested against his chest caused him to
withdraw. Seeking her cheek, he found it moist with tears.

“Why are you crying?” He wiped away some of the
wetness with his fingers.

She smiled. “I am so happy.” She laughed and
leaned her head against him. “I am so glad you are one of His that
I can’t keep it in.”

Ireic just held his wife and let her cry. He
didn’t understand it, but he didn’t mind. Happy tears were better
than sad.

~~~~~~

The next day, Ireic returned to his duties with
a lighter heart. Lirth sharing his bed and her joy in their
marriage thrilled him.

But when he beheld the work waiting for him,
Ireic sighed. The stacks of documents still overflowed his desk. “I
need a second-in-command,” he declared to Dorn.

His secretary’s lean face appeared over the
paper cliff on the edge of the desk. Exhaustion rimmed his already
sunken eyes, giving him the look of a walking invalid. Ireic knew
the man was working twice as hard as himself trying to keep up with
all the paperwork and responsibilities of the new government. With
the new council convening in two months and Lirth’s coronation in
two days, the pace would not abate.

“I wholeheartedly agree, sire. Why don’t you
give the position to that man who rescued the Queen, the one who is
due here any minute?”

As tempting as it was, Ireic shook his head.
“No. I want to reward the man, not punish him. Liam Tremain is a
man of action, not a man of words and politics. I need someone who
knows how to handle people and politicians.”

“How about Lord Siver, sire?”

That idea had merit. Ireic smiled at his
secretary. “Dorn, you are a genius!”

“Thank you, sire, but I hardly–”

Ireic cut him off with a wave. “Have Lord Siver
report to my office immediately after this meeting with Tremain.
Now that the old council is gone and he doesn’t wish to join the
new council, he should be eager to serve again. And if he isn’t, I
shall try to talk him into it. Start drawing up the documents
immediately.”

Recovering a scrap of parchment, Dorn settled
down in a nearby chair and began scratching away with his pencil.
“What would his duties be exactly, sire?”

Ireic opened his mouth to list them, but a tap
at the outer door stopped him. It opened and Isack stepped
inside.

“Liam Tremain to speak with you, sire.”

Liam’s tall, straight form stepped into the
room. He executed a smart salute. Ireic rose, acknowledging it.
“Thank you, Isack.”

As his bodyguard left, closing the door behind
him, Ireic came around the desk and offered Liam his hand.

“Relax, Liam.”

“Thank you, sire.” Liam returned Ireic’s firm
grip in kind. “May I ask how the Queen is doing, sire?”

“Certainly.” Ireic motioned toward one of the
few clear seats in the room. Liam obediently sat down. “She is well
and healthy. A bit nervous about the coronation ceremony,
though.”

“She will be perfect, sire. It has been too long
since we had a queen. I personally believe she will be the best one
in our history.”

Ireic found himself smiling. “I am glad to hear
that another feels the same as I. Though, I do tend to be biased. I
will be sure to tell her that you agree with me.” Leaning back
against the edge of his desk, he surveyed the man before him.

A third born son of noble parents, Liam chose
the military as a means of supporting himself. Ireic was well aware
that the Tremain family had not been on the crown’s side during the
recent coup attempt. Liam alone chose to support the crown, against
his father’s wishes. That and his exemplary service to Lirth
before, during, and after her kidnapping demanded recognition.

“I am sure you know that I haven’t called you
here to discuss my wife’s well-being.” The look on Liam’s face made
it clear he did not know why he had been summoned. “In view of your
current situation and past service, I have decided to reward
you.”

“But, sire–”

Ireic raised a hand. “Let me finish. I received
notice two days ago that one of the fortresses near the northern
border is suddenly without a master. Lord Alain died without issue.
His holdings and title are open for the crown to assign to whom it
wills. I wish it to be you. With the lands, which are extensive,
comes the care and service of the tenants; the title, Earl of
Ashwyn; and the responsibility of assisting in securing the
borderlands with Rhynan. Do you believe that you are capable of
performing these duties?”

“Sire, I–”

“Yes or no, Liam,” Ireic stated firmly, “Answer
me with a yes or no.”

After a moment of silence in which Liam was
obviously struggling with a rush of thoughts, he finally answered.
“Yes, sire, I believe I am capable.”

“Good,” Ireic smiled. “Dorn write up the
necessary paperwork. Also, include a permanent commission of a
hundred men from the crown to Lord Ashwyn. The crown can only call
for the return of the commission in the event of war or military
coup.”

Dorn bent over his stack of paper and began
scribbling madly.

Offering a hand to Liam, Ireic said, “Welcome to
responsibility, my lord.”

“I am not sure I am ready for this, sire.” Liam
shook Ireic’s hand.

“I am certain. Now go start choosing some men to
assist you.”

Liam bowed and exited while still looking a bit
shocked. Ireic went back to his stacks of paper feeling satisfied.
One more thing to check off his list as finished. However, this one
brought a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment.

~~~~~~

The hall echoed with Ireic’s speaking voice,
strong, firm and even. He recited his oath to the people, to the
crown, and to the throne of Anavrea. It was customary for the king
to renew his vows before the people during the preliminaries to
crowning the queen. Lirth’s turn came in the next few moments. But,
she had to walk the aisle first.

She nervously smoothed the front of her dress.
The heavily embroidered silk rustled beneath her fingers as she
traced the vine pattern stitched into the skirt. Desperately she
tried to recall her instructions. Despite the warm reassurances of
Ireic, Aarint, Trahern, and Dorn, she still was not certain that
she would remember everything.

Father, Kurios, You have led us this far. With
each step, You have provided us–me with the strength to face the
next. Thank You for Your provision and deliverance. I ask that I
may glorify You in what I am to do today. Give me the grace and
wisdom to be a good queen for these people. I want to support Ireic
and make him proud. I feel so inadequate for this role. Please help
me be a good helpmate for a king.

The words from Ireic’s morning reading flooded
through her thoughts. “When you pass through the waters, I will be
with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When
you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the
flame burn you.”

I understand, Kurios, she prayed. You will
provide what I need and will be with me. Thank you, Kurios.

The great doors opened with a feathering breeze
against her face. The loud voice of Mather Siver announced,
“Princess Lirth Yra Parnan of Sardmara, wife of Ireic Iathan
Theodoric of Anavrea, approach the throne.”

Folding her hands at her waist and straightening
her shoulders, Lirth stepped forward, her head raised and eyes
forward. She felt for the ridge in the carpeting that Dorn prepared
down the center of the aisle to keep her on course. She counted the
steps in her mind while trying to remember to smile, keep her
movement fluid, and breathe. It seemed an eternity before her toes
found the first of the four steps up onto the platform.

She waited with head slightly bowed and listened
for Ireic’s foot falls. He approached, his even tread reassuring
among the shuffling and quiet stirring of the audience around her.
Somewhere among them Aarint stood in his ambassadorial robes.
Trahern, by requirement of his position as brother of the king,
stood somewhere on the left end of the platform. His voice always
came from that direction during the rehearsals.

Then something brushed her cheek. Ireic’s warm
fingers trailed to her chin, and he raised her face so that her
eyes were looking up toward his face. She couldn’t see him, but she
could feel the solid calm that emanated from him. His hand dropped
to take one of the hands she had folded tightly against her waist.
With it, he led her up the four steps and across the platform.

“Kneel,” he whispered in her ear.

Obediently she knelt on the waiting cushion.
After a gentle squeeze, Ireic released her hand.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. She
was too occupied with keeping her shoulders straight and her head
at the right angle to pay attention to any of the speeches. When
the Lisbrith, smelling of incense, leaned near and asked her to
recite the oath, she did it without stumbling. Finally, Ireic took
his place before her. Then taking a deep breath, he spoke so the
whole assembly could hear.

“I have chosen you, Lirth Yra Parnan Theodoric,
as my queen. Hence, I now place this symbol of my choice upon your
head. May you wear it in wisdom and honor, always seeking the best
for Anavrea, her people, and her king.”