I have returned to writing after a break of some hours. I was relating my encounter with the Queen of Fermanagh, and the magic of seduction that she wielded. In recalling this event, I felt a strange stirring within me as I lost myself in the memory of her power, and for a moment I felt that I was under her spell once more. I wanted to seek her out and to serve her even now, after so much time has passed. I have always believed that I escaped from her magic unscathed, and yet now I fear it is not so. Perhaps there has always been a part of me, buried deep inside, that has remained her willing slave, a tiny piece of my soul that has been corrupted by her forever. This thought so troubled me that I could not continue with my account.
Seeking to clear my head I took a long walk through the royal complex. I felt restless, as though I needed to search for something but could not remember what. At last I entered one of the libraries, a small and comfortable chamber with walls full of books on every subject. I had an idea that perhaps I would look for information on the kind of magics used by the women of Fermanagh, to help ease my mind, but was interrupted by the revelation that the room was already occupied.
There was girl in the room, a servant who had been dusting the bookshelves. She gasped at the sight of me and feel to her knees immediately. She seemed so young and frail, barely more than a child, but I realized with a start that she must surely be near the age that I was when I was exiled from my people. I could not believe that it had been so long, for I felt so very much older. But then perhaps it is only that so much has happened since then. I did not know how best to judge how much I had aged. Is time a constant flow, a river moving always at the same pace? Some days run slow, and others impossibly fast. At times the events I have related in my tale thus far seem like only weeks past, and at other times they feel centuries removed. The fault is surely in the perceiver, I would think. Perhaps time is constant; human beings, as always, are not.
The serving girl was pretty, very pretty indeed. I studied her with an eager eye, seeking deep within myself if any part of my soul resonated with desire for her. I imagined she was Valessa standing before me once again, that she had commanded me to please her, but beyond her beauty she was nothing at all like that dreaded Queen. There was no confidence or power in her movements, no arrogance in her eyes, or cruel mirth in her smile. The shaken girl bore my gaze fearfully, her bottom lip trembling with fear that she might have displeased me. Valessa had never feared anything or anyone. It was, in the final account, what made her so dangerous.
At last I was satisfied that I felt nothing. It was not a perfect test, to be sure, and yet it made me feel somewhat more myself. I thanked the poor girl, and apologized for startling her. I gave her my blessing and sent her away. There were no books on the subject I sought, or at least none that I found in my cursory search, so I continued my walk, glad to take in the fresh air and explore corridors and rooms in the complex that I had never yet seen. While I wandered, I considered how best to continue my story. It is all too tempting to skip past a few events, to leave out a few details, and move on to happier, less complicated parts of my journey. It would certainly be easier. The problem is that there are perhaps no words to fittingly describe my capture by the Queen, for the brief time that I was under her power seems like the memories of another man. It is not a pleasant period to recall, and yet I have resolved to omit nothing important from my story, and for good reason. My predecessor left nothing out of his own account, and in this as in so many things I have sought to follow his example faithfully.
I have returned now, and am prepared to relate what happened next. But I beg you, mysterious reader, to understand that I must cover many events in but a few pages, and that the best I can record is but a pale, meager shadow of what really occurred. Your imagination must do the work that my words cannot. _______________________________________________________________________________
If I write that I was hers, utterly and completely, it is not an exaggeration. What chills my blood even now, in remembering, is how willingly I would have died for her. I would have jumped from the castle towers or impaled myself on my own ancient silver sword, had she commanded it. At her instruction, I, who had no desire for the flesh of women, would have mated with her again and again if only to bring her pleasure. Her face was burned into my vision, so that anywhere I looked I saw her laughing at me, calling for me, commanding me. She had won, and I had surrendered to her completely.
And yet now I think it must not have been so. When a nation conquers another, squashing their defenses and bringing them forcefully under their own rule, they themselves by their own cruel, violent action plant the seeds of resistance in the conquered people. This resistance may be hidden for years, even from the eyes of the people themselves, but in the end it will always rise up as a rebellion to claim its freedom once again. Though it seemed my every thought was for her, the truth is that some part of me must have retained its independence -- the part that had looked on Damon with desire, the part that had thrilled to be held by Valen, the part that had decided to risk exile than to consummate a marriage of lies. This must have been the case, but at that time I did not know it.
I felt a strain at my crotch, and knew that I stood erect with desire merely because she wished it so. She smiled at me, and I felt joy at the sight like I had never known. Her eyes smoldering with an inner fire, she slowly robed herself again and ran her fingers through her hair.
"I'll give you this much credit, Pilo," she said, "You are a stronger man than most. You really thought you could resist me, and for a moment I almost thought you could."
"Never, Your Highness. No one could resist you."
"I'm certain more than ever that my husband sent you to be a spy," she laughed and turned towards her pillows again, "he should know better by now."
"It is so, Your Highness. He wanted me to find out about your connection to Broxbourne."
She spun to look at me. "So he knows enough to be suspicious. I shouldn't be surprised. Well, let him squirm. There's nothing he can do to stop me now. Tomorrow we shall meet with the Ambassador and settle it all. You, my dear, have delivered the final piece of the bargain into my hands."
That was the sword, certainly, and at the mention of it I felt a spark of hope deep within the fog of her magic. It was gone as quickly as it had come.
"You sought to reclaim the sword, did you not?"
"Yes, Majesty. I loved it and desired it above all things," I said.
"And now?" she asked, her mouth forming a flirtatious pout.
"I only desire you."
"Well said," she said, laughing, "Dress yourself, Pilo. But don't get too comfortable in your clothes. No doubt you will not be wearing them long."
I had scarcely covered my body again when Tolo returned, bowing respectfully to the Queen and glaring at me challengingly. I had bore him no ill will before, but now I saw him only as a competitor to Valessa's favor. I would fight him or any other man who would come between me and my lady.
"The Seeress is ready, Your Highness," he said, "She awaits your pleasure."
Seeing him again, I knew my initial rush of recognition had not been wrong. The shape of the nose, the shade of the eyes, the whole set of the mouth was familiar. Though I hated him immediately as a rival for the Queen's attention, I could not but admit that he was far more handsome than his brother. It was as if those features I had found appealing in Cedrick had been but half-formed, and in Tolo they had found their final completion.
"The second test, Pilo," the Queen said, lowering herself to her pillow again, "The test of potential. Tolo, bring her in."
The people of my village often live to old ages, but I had never seen anyone who seemed so ancient as the woman Tolo showed into the Queen's chambers. She was stooped and withered, her head covered with the faintest wisps of ragged white hair. She leaned heavily upon a walking stick and muttered to herself continually. She turned to face me, and I saw her skin was sagged and withered; she seemed only a few steps removed from the dry, mummified remains I had seen deep within the ancient Anatherian tomb. When she smiled, she revealed only a handful of yellow, crooked teeth.
"What`s this? Who's here?" she muttered. Her eyes were milky white and well past their use. She gestured towards Tolo, "This one we know, the slave who will not always be a slave. And our lady Queen, our daughter of power." She gave a grotesque curtsy. "But who is this other? This other?"
The Queen sat forward, intrigued. "He is our newest servant, Seeress. Read him for us. Tell us his potential."
"She can see the future?" I asked, but the old woman snorted.
"Fool! None can see it. Does not exist. Is a book that has not been written. But one may guess at some of the words, mayhap... yes, we can guess at a few of the words. Yes! Not what you will be, but what you might be! Come, come. Let me read you." She hobbled to me, sniffing me curiously and exploring my body with a withered hand. I was repulsed by her appearance and by the smell of her rancid breath, but I dared not move lest I offend my Queen.
"What's this, eh? What's this? Two souls! Two princes! Impossible... Amazing!" She cackled loudly, a sharp, unpleasing sound. "Two souls! One stolen, and one with a hole in it! How can this be?"
"What are you saying?" the Queen asked, "What do you mean, two souls?"
But the Seeress ignored the question, for she had discovered the amulet that hung about my neck.
"What's this? What's this?"
I looked at the amulet. It was simple a circular medallion at the center of which was a brightly-colored red gem. The whole piece hung from a simple silver-linked chain. I had worn it since Errold had pressed it into my hands outside the tomb, begging me in his madness to take it. It had not since then occurred to me to take it off. For whatever reason, I had grown accustomed to its presence and let it be.
"It was a gift from... from someone I knew. I don't know where he got it." I explained.
The crone sniffed at it. "Remove! Makes things muddy. Get souls mixed up. Remove."
I obediently lifted the chain above my head and slipped it into my pocket.
"Bye bye, Prince," she said to the amulet, and then, looking at me, "Yes. Much clearer now."
The Seeress took a deep breath and rolled her unseeing eyes up towards the ceiling. I felt her presence then. It was similar to the sensation I had felt when Damon had entered my mind, and yet not as pleasant. Where Damon had slipped delicately and touched sensually, the old crone reached in recklessly and without care or discretion.
"Ancient blood. Hmph! Royal! But what's this? What's this? Yes... A black spot. An empty spot. There's a worm in this apple, eh?" She tapped my chest and cackled again.
"Honored Seeress," the Queen said, "Please explain. What are you talking about?"
The woman spat. "No. No. No explain, too much. Read now. Read his potential."
"Yes," the Queen said impatiently, "that was why I brought you here."
"Your hand," the old woman ordered me, "Give me. Give me!"
I presented her my left hand, which she slapped away impatiently and gestured for my right. I gave it to her, and she held it tightly while tracing the lines of my palm with one finger.
"What's this... What's this..." she muttered to herself in a drone.
"Your Highness," I pleaded, nervously.
"Hush now, Pilo. This won't take long," the Queen replied.
The woman seemed to have entered a trance, her head moving in a gentle circle and her muttered incantations picking up in speed and intensity. Abruptly she stopped, her whole body frozen.
"No. No." she said, "NO!"
Her body stiffened as she screamed and she fell to her knees, releasing my hand.
"Awaken, sleeper! Awaken and see the truth of all things!" she shouted in a voice so unlike her own that I did not at first believe it had come from her at all. "The land shall split asunder and may yet be rebound as one! Oh, awaken! Blood of the ancients, throne of antiquity, healer of old wounds! Uniter! Unifier! Awaken and hold us all in your palm!"
The crone had gone mad, pounding her hands against the floor and shouting more words that I could not make out or do not remember well enough to recount here. The Queen summoned guards from the corridor, stoic looking amazarii women, who gathered the Seeress and pulled her, still shouting, from the room. She left behind a heavy silence that in the aftermath of her outburst seemed all the more powerful.
"You amaze me once again, Pilo," said the Queen at last, "Never before have I seen such a reaction from the Seeress. Royal blood? Why, yes... I think you pass this test. Did you hear, Tolo? Royal blood!"
Tolo turned a dark shade of red and squeezed his fists in silent rage. I burned with pleasure to hear my Queen's words of praise, and only gained more satisfaction in seeing my competitor's reaction.
"Now, now, Tolo. Do not fear. I will give you a chance to redeem yourself. The final test is for you both." She summoned more amazarii guards. "I will see you both very soon. Take them to the pit."
We were led from the room. Leaving her presence caused me pain that I cannot describe, but I recognized the same anguish in Tolo's face and knew he felt it too. Our eyes met briefly, and for a second I thought I might have spied compassion in the handsome man. But then they narrowed into a cruel, threatening gaze, and I knew he planned my death by any means necessary. With only a slight surprise, I knew I felt the same. We maintained a tense silence as we traveled the hallways of the Queen's palace.
The pit turned out to be a large circular room with a sunken area in the middle, curved like a deep bowl, with raised seating around the edges. The purpose of the room was clear; indeed, as we entered two amazarii fought without weapons in the sunken center. Tolo and I, along with our escorts, watched the duel. There were slaps and punches, and surprisingly acrobatic kicks -- but for a time neither opponent gained much ground over the other. At last, one of the woman managed to pin the other into a hold about the head and chest, after which the captured woman conceded. They broke off from fighting and embraced, kissing each other on both cheeks.
One of my amazarii guards nudged me. "You see? We do not fall prey to grudges and meaningless violence like you men. We fight not from base animal instinct, like you, but to defend ourselves and our sisters and to become masters of our art. These women fight to hone their skill, and they do honor to each other even as they struggle."
We were silent for a time while I considered this. At last Tolo said, spitefully, "I will do you no honor in what is to come, stranger. I fight to win."
I am slow to anger, but under the Queen's power I was almost another man entirely. I could not stay silent any longer. "Your brother sent me to kill you," I said, a sadistic smile playing on my face, "and now that I've met you I understand why. It will be my pleasure."
He flinched at this, but said nothing.
We were stripped, predictably, and forced to rub a kind of grease on each other's bodies. This, we were told, was to make the wrestling more difficult and therefore more entertaining for the Queen. Tolo stood like a statue as I spread the slick substance across his smooth body, giving no indication that he knew or cared that my hands were brushing past intimate areas. I knew it, however, and as my hands traveled across his back and chest and past his groin (where he showed another sizable advantage over his brother) to his legs, I felt a stirring of desire within me so at odds with the spell that had me bound that for a moment I felt like two different people entirely, sharing one body.
The effect was only further enhanced when it came his turn to grease me. His motions were brusque and rough, and yet my skin tingled with pleasure at his touch. It was then that I knew my first brief moments of freedom from the spell of the Queen. That part of me which had never truly been conquered by her magic showed itself, and gave me hope.
When she entered the room, however, that part vanished back into hiding. She had changed her dress, but looked just as stunning as my imagination could devise, having been focused only on her since the moment she had captured me. She was flanked by scores of amazarii women who filled the room as eager spectators. Their faces were studies in cruel beauty as they grinned and sneered at us, two naked men in the pit before them.
"This is the test of strength," the Queen announced, "The rules are simple: the first of you to pin and subdue the other is the victor, and shall share my bed tonight."
We were on each other almost before she gave the signal, our hands and arms straining to gain a hold. The grease worked as intended, for it was nearly impossible to keep any kind of grip on Tolo without him slipping out of my arms. He was perhaps a bit taller than me, but we were evenly matched in terms of muscle and strength. I would not be able to win by sheer force alone.
After a few unsuccessful attempts at grappling, we spun apart and circled each other warily. The amazarii surrounding the Queen cheered and laughed, taking bets as to the winner. I heard laughter and taunts from the women regarding my hairless body. My face burned at their jests, and for a moment I felt a stirring of my old self again. But in this distraction, Tolo had launched at me, and I had no chance to further summon willpower against the Queen's magic.
We began to grapple in earnest, the grease beginning to give way enough to allow us to lock up for long periods of time. We sought to outlast each other in pure stamina, pausing on occasion to catch our breath, still holding on to each other tightly. In one of these moments, as I gasped for air and rested my body against his, I noticed how closely our posture resembled an embrace. My body pressed against his intimately, my face near his neck, my hands clasped to his arms. My sacred organs even rested gently on his leg, like lovers after union. How closely violent hatred can resemble love! Both rooted in passion, they are more related to each other than we usually bring ourselves to believe. I had no sooner begun to enjoy the intimacy of the brief reprieve than Tolo began his assault again.
I felt myself weakening, and I could not breathe fast enough. The muscles of my legs and arms burned with the strain, and I knew they would give out all too soon. Tolo had obtained a superior position, standing above me and using his whole weight to entrap me. The grease and sweat had been rubbed off sufficiently that I could not pull myself from his grasp. I looked into his eyes and saw them tighten with what I then assumed to be determination to win, but suddenly his legs collapsed slightly beneath him and, his position thus weakened, I was able to twist my body in such a way that he lost his balance and fell to the ground. At that point it was easy, and I had him pinned within moments. After struggling uselessly against me for some time, he relented and I was named the victor. As the amazarii began to cheer, I eyed Tolo suspiciously, hardly believing I had won.
"Well done," the Queen said, and her women fell silent, "Well done, Pilo. You have earned a great honor this day. You shall be my new consort."
Part of me thrilled at this announcement, yet another part, weak but gaining strength, felt ill at the thought. I looked at Tolo, whose face was mixture of confusion and despair as he turned from me and walked away. ____________________________________________________________________________________
Bathed, dressed in robes much like Tolo's, and awaiting the Queen in her personal bedchamber, I paced back and forth restlessly, at war with myself. Valessa had told me she would join me shortly, and yet now some time had passed and she had not come. I felt like I was being torn into pieces, and pounded the walls and cried out in confusion and frustration. I raged that I should be trapped so beyond my will, raged that she had not come as I longed for her, raged that I could not escape and angry with myself for wanting to. I was many things at once.
"The Queen commands your presence," came a voice that startled me, and turning I saw that an amazarii had entered the room while I had been distracted by my torment.
"I thought she was meeting me here," I said.
The amazarii tossed her hair impatiently. "It is not for you to question. The Ambassador has demanded an audience this evening. Surely you realize such affairs of state take precedence over... recreation." She gestured dismissively at me.
I noticed she carried the clothes I had been given by Valen's servants that very morning, the ones that had been taken from me before the bout with Tolo.
"The Queen commands you to wear these."
I took them from her. "Give me a few moments and I'll change."
She stood waiting, and only after I gave her a signal did she realize that I would not change my clothing in front of her. She rolled her eyes and left the room. As I took off the flowing robes, I pondered this turn of events. An insect of some kind crawled across the floor nearby, but I, foolishly, was lost in my thoughts and ignored it. The Ambassador had to be a representative from Broxbourne, that was certain... but why the change of apparel? Could it be the Queen did not wish for the Ambassador to see me wearing her livery?
My thoughts were interrupted suddenly as Damon, appearing miraculously like the angel I had named him for, spoke to me, saying, "Master! I'm here!"
For the second time I collapsed into tears before him, but this time the tears were of untainted joy and relief. He looked at me, bewildered, but I could only smile and weep. Damon had implied, when I first had encountered him, that the beauty of his form was but a reflection of the beauty of my soul. I had not understood what he meant until that moment, for in looking upon him I suddenly saw myself through a stranger's eyes - the eyes of a man under the power of the Queen. Seeing him, I knew my true self and loved it, knew that I was not the Queen's slave but Markis -- Markis the former Priest, Markis of long dead Anatheria, Markis the exile. Damon, thinking no doubt that he had upset me, crossed to comfort me and I eagerly took him in my arms and kissed him.
In that kiss all my confusion and doubt vanished.
"Listen," I said, breaking away, "I need you to take a message to the King. I don't care how he gets it. Tell him that an Ambassador from Broxbourne meets with the Queen this very evening. Tell him I will try to escape, and that I'll need protection if I manage to get out of the palace. Bring me word back from him, if you can. You have enough power for that?"
He nodded, "I think so. But I grow weaker."
I could hear footsteps; the amazarii guard was returning.
"Later, I promise!" I said hurriedly, "Only hurry, now. Hide yourself."
"Yes, Master," he said.
"Damon... thank you."
"For what, Master?" he asked, but I merely waved him away.
He transformed and was gone, and seconds later the guard entered the room again.
"I'm ready," I said, as casually as I could.
When the amazarii guard brought me into the Queen's audience chamber, a heated discussion was already taking place. Valessa, strung arrogantly across her throne, was glaring unhappily at another woman dressed all in white robes. This woman was easily twice Valessa's age, her face wrinkled and wizened but, compared to the Seeress, still quite young. She was flanked on either side by soldiers in armor I recognized only too well -- suddenly I recalled where I had heard the name Broxbourne before. My heart sank as, finally, I began to put the pieces together of what was going on. The armor was the same as that of the soldiers I had fought and slain outside the tomb, the same as the officer's who had ridden off with Errold.
"We made a deal, Mighty Queen," the woman in white said, her voice strained, "You were to turn him over to us as soon as he came into your hands."
The Queen clicked her tongue. "We`ve been over this, Ambassador."
"The man is a criminal, a murderer who must be tried by a court of Broxbourne. He slew several of our soldiers and interfered with a matter important to the Archbishop himself. More, he is a thief. He stole two very valuable magical artifacts that belong rightfully to His Excellency."
"The Archbishop's petty desires for revenge do not concern me," Valessa said casually, "I have the sword, as he requested, I really think that should satisfy him... Ah, Pilo. You've come. You can see, Ambassador, here he is in the flesh."
The Ambassador gave me only a moment's glance. "Yes. The demand is for both the sword and the man. He's too dangerous to be left roaming free."
The Queen's laughed rang through the room. "He'll hardly be roaming here, I assure you. I have taken him under my power, and he will serve me faithfully until he's dead. Take your sword, and tell His Grace that his criminal has already been sentenced."
"I fear you overestimate your power," the Ambassador replied, "the Creator punishes arrogance."
Valessa rose slowly, her jaw sit firmly in defiance. "Bring the sword," she called.
She motioned to a nearby guard, who produced my ancient silver sword, looking as perfect and beautiful as Damon ever could. The Queen took it, and examined it curiously.
"A fascinating weapon," she said, "Tell me, why does your Archbishop desire it so?"
The Ambassador sniffed. "That is a private matter."
The Queen's eyes flashed with fire. "For months I have been providing Broxbourne with gifts of gold, and, more importantly, of ancient artifacts from our vaults. This blade, too, is from ages past. The Archbishop has suddenly developed a strange obsession with history."
"His Grace's interests are academic," the Ambassador replied, "And regardless, it is the price for our help. Waging a civil war is no small thing. Turn over the hairless man and the sword at once, or we shall have to reconsider our pledge of support."
"Then I would insist that you return my gifts," Valessa replied, "All of them."
The Ambassador looked struck by this, and made no reply.
"The sword you shall have, but not the man," the Queen announced, "He is of much more value to me than to His Grace."
"Very well, if that is your decision. His Grace shall determine the consequences of your refusal. But give us the sword." She paused, hesitating. "And the amulet."
Without thinking, my hand traveled to my neck to feel for it, but then I remembered I had taken it off and put it in my pocket. Valessa appeared furious.
"That was not part of the original agreement. You add condition after condition, and strain this alliance."
"It only recently came to our attention that he possessed that amulet as well," the Ambassador said, "If you desire our help, you will meet our demands promptly."
The Queen rose, annoyance written clearly on her face. "One does not make demands of a Queen," she said, "You will receive the sword and the amulet when and if I wish it. Come see me in the morning, as we had originally planned. We will discuss it then. Good evening, Ambassador."
Still holding the silver sword, the Queen strode purposefully from the room, leaving the Ambassador sputtering furiously behind her. Only then did the Broxbournean woman look at me, meeting my eyes with a look of disgust and hatred. She turned sharply and left, her armed escorts following behind her. ____________________________________________________________________________________
"The arrogance of that woman!" the Queen said, storming into her bedchamber angrily, "She has no idea who she is dealing with."
"Patience, my Queen," said one of her advisors, an imposing and clearly high-ranking amazarii, "Remember, we need their help."
By now Valessa had caught sight of me, and a small smile played across her face. In her hands she still held my silver sword, and it was agonizing to see it so near and yet so out of reach.
"Well, let it rest for tonight," she said, "We will deal with her tomorrow."
Her advisors nodded and began to filter from the room, throwing lewd, mocking looks in my direction. By then the Queen had also seen Tolo, standing a few feet from me and looking thoroughly unhappy.
"Tolo," she said, smiling, "Don't look so sad, my pet. Here, take this." She handed him the silver sword, and my heart sank seeing it in his hands. "You may guard this tonight. You see? You're still important to me. I'll send for it, and you, in the morning."
He nodded and joined the others in exiting the room, until I was left alone with her. She looked at me curiously, inquiringly, and I felt terror in the pit of my stomach. For a moment I feared I would fall under her power once again, but I thought of Damon and it gave me strength.
"There's something different about you, Pilo," she said, "Are you nervous?"
"I am anxious to please you, my Queen," I said.
"Come here," she said, sitting on her bed, "Sit with me."
I did so. Her hands roamed over my bare head.
"Tell me about my brother-husband. What did he think of you?"
"I couldn't say, Majesty."
"I know him. No doubt he found you as fascinating as I do myself. I don't know why he let you out of his sight."
I felt a pain in my heart, remembering the tender moments Valen and I had shared the night before. I struggled to keep my face blank but some small sign of my affection must have showed.
"What did you think of him, Pilo? You cared for him?" she was smiling sadistically, thoroughly enjoying herself.
"I thought him the best of men," I said, truthfully, "An honest, noble man."
The Queen's laughter was truly hideous, and went on for some length of time without stopping.
"Oh, Pilo, you are so adorable. How can you be so capable and yet so innocent? You think me a monster."
"Never, my Queen!" I protested.
"Well, not now, of course. Now you are mine. But before, you thought me a cruel, heartless woman. Admit it."
I nodded, feigning as much reluctance as I could.
"I know so. And perhaps in many ways I am what you thought. But not so much as Valen would have you believe. At least I do not hide my sins like my hypocritical brother. Oh, yes, Pilo. He is not so noble as you think. I want you understand this, and understand why I plot the way that I do."
I nodded, not sure what to say. My eyes traveled the room uncomfortably, and I noticed a small but heavy looking statue of a nude woman. It sat on a small stand quite near the bed, just barely out of reach.
"What has Valen told you of our history? Of the time before the Rule of Two?"
"Only that the men and women of Fermanagh have always been at odds," I said.
She pursed her lips, "That is an extremely politic way of putting it, especially from a man. Long ago, long before the Rule of Two, women were treated cruelly in this city," she explained, "You have no idea how bad it was, Pilo. I have read the accounts, and I can barely imagine it. We were property, worse than animals. We learned to fight back - the amazarii were born. If my warrior women have hatred for all of your sex, it is for good reason, I assure you. We also learned the magic of seduction, learning to entrap men to aid our cause. We fought bitterly, and at last we were granted our own sovereignty and basic human rights. But the men have never forgiven us. They treat us as cruelly as ever if they can. And Valen allows it."
I shook my head in disbelief, and inched closer to the statue.
"Reports come to me of all that happens in our city, Pilo. Do you know how many women are raped in this city every day? How many by Valen's personal soldiers? He has ordered the rape, torture, and worse of my women in the service of what he calls the greater good. You thought me heartless, but I love the women who are my subjects. I would do anything for them. Anything."
Her eyes flashed again the way only hers could do, and I knew she meant it.
"The only way to restore peace to the city," she continued, "is to subjugate the men once and for all. Only when they are stripped of all power can the violence and madness that corrupts the heart of Fermanagh stop. You understand, don't you? Valen is the true monster. I have entrapped you, yes, I have humiliated you before my women, but ultimately you shall be my consort and live a life of luxury and pleasure. Those unfortunate women who are dragged into the King's service have only pain and misery to look forward to. Valen keeps his consorts in cells, and allows any of his men to come to them and abuse them as they please. So tell me -- who is truly the cruel and heartless one here?"
I tried to imagine Valen allowing such a thing. "No," I said firmly, "It's not true. It can't be."
Valessa paused, her eyes watching me suspiciously. "You grow a little too confident, Pilo. Your attachment to my brother is greater than I thought. Renounce him, Pilo. Tell me how much you hate and despise him, for my sake."
I said nothing.
"I command it!" she said, her brow furrowing.
"No," I said softly.
She took a gasp of breath. "What did you say?"
I rose slowly and faced her, my voice growing with defiance, "I said no."
She rose as well, her face reddening with anger. "You cannot defy me! You are the property of Fermanagh! You are mine!"
"I belong to nowhere and to nobody," I said, "I am Markis the exile, and I defy you, mighty Queen."
She launched herself at me as if to strike me, but I caught her hands and overpowered her easily. I pinned her to the bed and she struggled uselessly against my strength. She raged wildly, like the trapped animal she was, but to no avail.
"I don't understand," she said, tears trickling down her face, "I don't understand."
"Listen to me," I said, "The women of this city may well have been treated terribly in the past. You have a right to defend yourself. But every person holds responsibility for the evils they do to others, no matter what evils have been done to them. Violence does not excuse violence. You would revert this city to the barbarity of its past by reducing men to slaves and animals -- practicing on them all that was done to you. Revenge is a strong temptation -- but it is a base instinct that makes us all more like animals and less like the angels we could be."
I released her and stood away from the bed. She sat up, her body tense and ready to defend herself.
"I have only to scream once," she said, "and my guards will come in and kill you. I promise, I will do it."
"No, my Queen," I said, my hands finding the statue of the naked woman, "You won't. I'm sorry."
The heavy statue struck her head with a hallow thud and she collapsed unconscious onto the bed. I checked her wound and her pulse; she would live, and hopefully I would be long gone before she awoke. I kissed her gently on her soft round lips, and then with only a moment's hesitation slipped out of the room.
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