THE EXILE A Gay Fantasy Experiment
CHAPTER TWENTY
A few nights ago I could not sleep, but tossed and turned instead on my bed and found no comfort in the silken sheets of royal purple hue. At length I gave up my struggle for rest and arose, wrapping a thick robe around my nakedness to keep out the chill of the mountain air. I walked the palace grounds in the dead of night, seeking meditation and wisdom in the silence of the usually busy halls. My personal guard knew me well enough to give me space to breathe, and took caution to remain unheard and unseen. Considering their massive size, this was no small feat, and I found myself duly grateful.
I have lived in this royal complex for many years now. When first I had arrived it had seemed foreign to me, too large and too opulent and definitely too high up, built as it is into the mountains above the city proper. Then, too, there are memories here that I would have escaped if I could, and though I was persuaded that the Heir of Alander could live no place else there are still rooms I will not enter. Still, in time the complex became my home, as familiar and welcoming as the small room in my village that had been mine as a child, the room where Pasha first slept by my side. But that night it suddenly seemed foreign, and as I walked through the elaborate passageways that, with their missing wall, look out the very side of the mountain onto the expanse of the city below, I felt like a stranger once again to this place. That's when I knew.
The time has come.
In the morning I announced I would immediately undertake to tour the lands and visit all the cities that call me king and master, and the last several days have been bustling with the energy of the preparation for this journey. It will be the last time I look upon my dominions, though of course my advisers do not yet know this. I must make sure everything is in place, my plans set into motion. And then I will go.
I can tell no one what I intend. Not even you, my special one. I must leave you behind, for where I go you cannot follow. When you read this, as I am sure now that one day you will, I hope you will understand. _____________________________________________________________________
The night after Shara left for her journey north I could not sleep either. Instead I walked through the dark streets of what remained of my village, threading my way through mostly abandoned houses and buildings to the site where the temple had once stood. It was a pile of ash and charred wood now, and though even now the sight was something of shock to behold I was relieved to see that the debris had buried the entrance to the tunnel that led to Alander's tomb. The thought that the man might now rest undisturbed forever more was comforting to me, somehow.
For me, however, there was no rest. "It is not an easy thing I am asking of you," I had said to Shara the day before, "But there is no one else." I had explained my plan to her in great detail, and we had both questioned Cedrik at length regarding the situation in the city. She understood her mission, and she had handpicked a few of our militia to accompany her as her guard - all women, of course. All necessary preparations had been made. It was the point of no return.
"Perhaps the risk is too great," I said, suddenly doubting myself.
"The risk will have been worth it if I succeed," she had replied confidently, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She was dressed as a warrior, a bow slung over her shoulder and two long knives at her belt. I did not doubt her skills, not for a second, but suddenly I felt the whole idea was madness. I could be delivering her straight into the hands my enemies.
"And if you do not? If the worst should happen? How can I bear knowing I caused your death?"
She frowned, and I remember her brow creasing in anger. "I'm not a child, Markis. You are the son of power. I serve you with all my heart because it is my choice to do so. I go on my own free will, and if I die then my death is my own failure, not yours."
Staring at the remains of the temple, I remembered her words and shook my head. Shara was acting on my behalf, for my cause, and at my request. Should she perish, I would blame myself and nobody else. I toed the temple's ashes with my boot and pondered on the many things I had already destroyed.
I did not hear him until he was almost upon me, approaching from behind. I whirled, thinking it was Alek, but the shape was not his. The figure was wreathed in shadow, and it took a few more steps before my eyes could make out his features clearly. Valen nodded to me respectfully and came to stand at my side, joining me in surveying the debris.
"Can't sleep either?" I said at last, crossing my arms across my chest to keep out a sudden evening chill.
"As usual," he replied. He had come directly from bathing, it seemed, for his hair was still wet and hung heavily down his neck. "I have rarely slept a peaceful night since the crown first touched my head. Kings do not have the luxury of rest -- as you will come to learn."
I said nothing to that, but thought again of Shara and of all the other people whose lives were now in my hands. I knew he was right, and the realization wearied me. But behind his words was something further, a subtle indication that he now accepted me as a peer, a king like himself.
"She might die," I said bitterly, "One of my oldest friends, and I must risk her life to serve my own ends. As if I have not hurt her enough. She loves me. She loves me as much as I loved her brother, though neither of us had our love returned. I'm taking advantage of that love to get what I want, but still she insists it is her own choice and I am not to blame should she come to harm."
I wasn't looking at him, but I heard the smile in his voice. "I remember somebody else insisting the same thing, the night before I sent him into my wife's hands."
I, too, remembered that night. I could recall the look of torture on Valen's face as he contemplated what must be done, the guilt in his voice even as I had tried to comfort him. "And I remember you saying how difficult it was to use me," I replied, "I did not understand fully what you meant until today."
"A good king must have the strongest morals," Valen said wisftfully, "but he must also have the courage to break them when the greater good demands. He must inspire unwavering loyalty from those around him, but he himself must be loyal to his people as a whole above any individual person. One man or woman is a small sacrifice for the greater good, but this is not easy to bear. This is why for idealistic men such as you and I the price of power is so high. It is why we must face so many restless nights like these."
"You said once that a good king could not also be a good man." I looked at the temple ruins and clenched my jaw. "You are wrong. I hope you are wrong." He smiled at me sadly, and I couldn't stand looking him any longer. It was like looking through time at my future self, and I did not like what I saw. Had I actually possessed the power to peer through time, as the Seeress claimed in part do, and had seen myself as I am now (old, tired, worn down by the terrible weight of my power), I fear I would be no less displeased. I turned to leave.
"Markis," he said softly, causing me stop mid-step and turn back to him. "The night is cold and the lives of kings are too often lonely. Will you... will you share my bed again tonight?" The question was barely whispered, and I would never have even heard it had the village not been so perfectly still and quiet.
The night we had spent together came back to me suddenly, and I could remember the heat of Valen's skin and the thick hair on his chest. The hair on the back of my neck rose as I recalled the pressure of his body next to mine on that night that already seemed like ancient history. I had been no more than a boy then, knowing nothing of the path in store for me, caring for nothing other than the joy of feeling a man I admired wrap his arms around me. Somehow I knew he was inviting me to share more than his bed, this time. Valen had never professed a carnal interest in men before, and there had been nothing passionate about that night when we had shared each other's company, but I knew instinctively that at that moment he was willing to step into deeper territory. Perhaps it was loneliness and weariness of his long struggle with women that was driving his thoughts towards men, as it had, I believed, for Alek. For my part, I felt the desire for companionship well within me and for a moment I considered accepting his offer. But only for a moment.
"Did you really imprison women?" I asked suddenly, painfully, "Did you let men commit rape in your name and do nothing to stop it?"
He paled, struck deeply by my words. He had nothing to say, but the guilt was plain on his face. I turned and left him there, striding away quickly. I didn't look back.
I thought Damon would cure my loneliness, at least temporarily, but when I returned to my room Pasha was there instead. I was surprised to see him, for I had kept him at some distance since discovering Alek thought he was my new romance. Pasha jumped up guiltily as I entered and began vomiting out words before I could say anything.
"I was just, um..." he sputtered, reddening in the face, "I hope you don't mind, but I was just waiting here for you to get back because I wanted to ask you... I wanted to ask... you see, I was wondering... Do you... do you need anything? I feel so useless lately. Can I do anything to help you?"
I smiled, and when he saw my face he smiled in return, still blushing.
"It doesn't have to be... like that," he said, "I just want to do something helpful, you know? I can't fight, I don't know anything about politics or strategy. But I'm a good aide. Ambassador Hollis used to criticize me harshly, sometimes, but even he admitted I was good at assisting him and anticipating his needs. I could... I could work for you. I could do your errands, deliver messages, clean and cook. You have enough on your mind, let me deal with the little things."
"I don't need a slave," I protested. I thought of Damon, and quietly reflected that I already had servants enough for any man to endure.
"Not a slave," he explained quickly, "An assistant. A clerk. You are a king now and people will expect you to start acting like one. Well, kings have people to do things for them. You don't see kings washing their own breeches, do you?"
"A clerk. Like Cedrik is for Valen," I remembered, considering the idea.
"Exactly. I think I'm perfect for the job." He swallowed nervously and continued, "Anyway, there have been... rumors about us. You and me, I mean."
"That we are lovers," I said flatly.
The red in his cheeks darkened. "Yes. People have asked me.... but I told them it wasn't true. I don't know if they believe me. My Veruvian friends definitely don't. Still, if you make me your clerk it might look better. You know. Clear everything up. I thought you would prefer that. I don't know. You are the king and nobody should care if you take a lover or not."
"Perhaps they shouldn't," I agreed, "But they do. Particularly if that lover is another man. The people of my tribe have come a long way in the last few weeks but they are not likely to be ready to accept that just yet."
I frowned at the thought. Things between Alek and I had been finished before I had attracted a following, and now that he was known to be Jelena's that secret was likely safe. But surely the rumors regarding Pasha were already making their way through my brethren who now accepted me as their leader. Many of them had no doubt already realized why I could not consummate my marriage to Shara, and I felt a twinge of embarrassment knowing my deepest secret had now been exposed. Would they abandon me, unable to believe their promised son of power could be such an aberration? I shook my head. I had not come back to face my people just to hide my true self from them as I had once done. I realized then I would have to talk to them and explain everything.
"Your father isn't exactly comfortable with the idea either," I reminded him.
He sighed and looked away. "That's part of it," he admitted, "He hasn't said anything but I can tell.... If you give me a position of responsibility, even if its cleaning your boots, I think maybe it will give him something to be proud of me for. At least I'll be able to talk about you around him without him turning to stone."
"Is it really that bad?"
"Markis, before you brought us back together he had disowned me forever. That's behind us now, but it doesn't make everything between us just go away. He doesn't understand that part of me. He can't. I mean, does your father?"
I considered the question silently with an uneasy feeling that I knew the answer.
"Accept me as your clerk," Pasha insisted again, "It won't stop the rumors, but it will at least calm them. And then maybe I'll stop feeling so useless."
His plea was so endearing that I could not have refused him. I ruffled his hair then and agreed, kissing his cheek tenderly and laughing when he flushed red in response. The next day, when my small council gathered I introduced him as my new clerk. Alek smiled at me, beaming his approval in a way that I preferred to ignore, and Stepan's face revealed decidedly mixed feelings. Amongst the others, there were eyebrows raised, of course, and the Veruvians smirked at Pasha shamelessly, but nobody uttered a word of complaint.
And then, that afternoon, when I met with the elders of my tribe around my father's sickbed, I knew I could delay the inevitable no longer. I invited them to ask the question that had been plaguing their minds since the day I was exiled.
"Sha'Eluid. Tell us: why did you refuse your bride?" they asked me. It was not an easy question for them to bring up. Their one remaining doubt in me was, of course, the stark fact of my disobedience, for they still conceived as the awaited son of power as the epitome of their tradition and not, as was actually the case, the destroyer of it.
Without thinking, I looked to my father for his reaction. He said nothing in response to the question, but stared deeply at me in expectation. I was all too conscious of his eyes on me as I gathered my thoughts.
"Let me ask you a question in return," I said to them at last, "Consider the plight of a man who, with good intentions but perhaps with little wisdom, promises to give a friend a great treasure in his possession in exchange for a gem of equal value. On the day of transaction, the man goes to his vault to retrieve the treasure, only to discover he has made a great error. The treasure is not there, and never was. He does not even own the thing he has promised to give. Tell me then, what is the most honorable course for such a man? Should he hide his mistake from his friend, offer a counterfeit, receive the true gem in trade?"
The elders grumbled and murmured to each other. They saw where this was going, but were unable to give any response but the one I had expected: "Not at all. Such a man should confess to his friend and call off the deal, accepting the shame that comes with his mistake."
"Precisely," I replied, "I had promised Shara my eternal love and my participation in a union between our bodies and our souls. On the day of our marriage ritual, I discovered a secret I had kept even from myself. I could not offer her my love, my devotion, my passion. It was not there to give. And why not? For generations we have taught that the Omnipotence created man and woman as two parts of a greater whole, designed with a wisdom we cannot comprehend to fit together as two pieces of puzzle are joined together to create a complete image. But surely not all pieces are exactly the same, and we who cannot comprehend the wisdom of the Creator surely cannot claim to know the endless variations and permutations of the Created world. Let us then consider the possibility that some men are, for reasons we also cannot comprehend, made differently, designed to fit together in other ways."
Silence. My father watched on with eyebrows raised, tears glistening in his eyes, hands shaking. The elders of my tribe stared at each other in confusion and dismay as they struggled to process my words.
"What you speak of," one of the elders said cautiously, "This has always been abomination amongst us, under the law."
"I am the son of power, awakened to my purpose and my destiny," I said with finality, "The law is fulfilled in me, and is no more."
I spoke with conviction and Truth. They had no response but amazement. Eventually, after I had spoke more on other topics, the somewhat dazed elders left, leaving me alone with my father. He too said nothing, for he had been speaking less and less since the destruction of the temple and the division of our people, instead reserving his strength. Jelena insisted his progress was hopeful, but not certain.
With sudden affection, I longed to tell my father that I loved him, but the words stuck in my throat. He must have seen something in my face, however, for he beckoned me near. With his trembling hand he stroked my face, then touched the top of my head in benediction. I gripped his other hand and sat with him in silence until he fell asleep. Only then did I myself take my leave, feeling light of heart and with a smile on my face as I returned to Pasha and my own room.
That night my father died. _______________________________________________________________________
We journey now to Fermanagh, which is to be the first leg of my final tour of my kingdoms. During the days of travel, I have had time to reflect on my father and his legacy. There were only the two of us, from the beginning. With my mother dead and no children of their union save myself, we had only each other. He raised me to the best of his ability, and despite whatever disagreements we may have had I cannot deny that it was his example and the lessons he taught me that lay at the heart of anything in my life that I can consider to be an accomplishment.
He taught me to love justice and to prize selflessness, to protect the weak and hate greed. I could never have become the heir of Alander without these things. So many years have passed since his parting, and yet tonight I have wept again at my memories. When I think of him, and of Jacek, and Alek, and all the others, how can I not?
But for the first time in many years, the tears are not so much due to grief of their loss as they are of gratitude for the time I had them. This is progress, at the least. ______________________________________________________________________
We had planned to follow after Shara within a fortnight, but delayed nearly a month to make preparations for my father's funeral. I will not say that grieving his passing was easy, but the blow was softened somewhat by the realization that we had reconciled to each other before it was too late. My friends were an endless source of comfort; even Alek spent a full day with me, sharing my grief and offering his support. Then, too, I sought peace in the vision I had had of creation, and in knowing that everything was connected I knew that my father had now rejoined that formless Source from which all things originate and to which we all would one day return.
So I said in my eulogy as well, and I like to think my people were comforted as well by this idea. After the ceremony was finished and his body laid to rest, the elders (to my frustration) sought to have me confirmed as High Priest in his place, saying it was time to take my traditional place as head of our faith.
"You have understood nothing," I said, not as patiently as I should have, "There are no more High Priests just as there are no more temples. These things have no more purpose. I would have you each be High Priests unto yourselves."
They were still digesting that when, nearly a week later, we departed the ruins of our village and headed north. We were by no means a vast army, but our host had grown considerably from the addition of the brothers and sisters of my tribe and so our progress was slowed. It took us nearly another week to reach the edge of the forest that opened up into the open plains surrounding Fermanagh. I was surprised to find I could look up into the wide open sky and feel only a small remnant of the fear that had once overwhelmed me when first I left our forest. Another reminder that I was no longer quite the same man as before.
Early on the morning of our first day on the plains, our scouts brought word that a small group of riders approached us from the north - all female. I called for our troops to set up defensive positions, but I was not too concerned. From the reports, their numbers were few and I was hopeful that they did not intend to start a fight.
I was not wrong. When the riders came into view at last, I quickly spotted Shara and her escorts from our village. With them were fierce looking women who were clearly members of the Queen's amazarii. I felt dizzy with elation and relief - Shara had succeeded in her mission, and the rest was up to me. She nodded to me happily, relieved to have completed her task. I thought with sadness that she did not yet know about my father and that soon I would have to break the news to her. But first there were more pressing tasks ahead.
I received the amazarii graciously, but they had no patience for courtesy. "Speak your mind, male," said one, who clearly appeared to be their leader, "Or we will leave."
"Very well, then," I replied, "Straight to the point. Valessa is your Queen, and you are sworn to obey her in all things. And yet I wonder if all her amazarii agree with her objectives and her methods. Allying with Broxbourne, a society mostly dominated by men. Subverting generations of tradition, enslaving men, and creating an all-female regime. Do all the amazarii think these are worthy goals?"
The leader's eyes narrowed at me. "It is not our place to question such things, but only to obey," she said.
"And yet, you have followed Shara here to meet with me," I countered. "I doubt Valessa would look very kindly on that."
"She has earned our respect," the amazari admitted. I looked at Shara, and only then noticed the presence of several bruises about her face and arms that had not been there when she had set out on this quest. Whatever she had done to get these few amazarii to follow her, it clearly had not been without price. She was radiant with triumph, however, and stepped forward to speak
"You told me that you believed in the Rule of Two, in the balance it creates" she argued, "Your Queen would destroy this balance in her blind rage. She acts from emotion, not from reason."
"This is true," replied the amazarii leader, "But what guarantee do we have that this man--" (she thrust her chin at me accusingly) "--and his armies would not do the same?"
"As a woman, and one who knows him well, I can vow that this not his intention," Shara said.
"And what about him?" The amazari asked suddenly, raising her voice angrily and pointing at somebody behind me. I followed her accussing finger and saw Valen, his face blank, his mouth tightly closed. Behind him, Cedrik looked pale under the warrior woman's gaze.
I turned back to the amazarii. "The King has sought my protection and aid in liberating his people. He seeks only to prevent the massacre and enslavement of the men of Fermanagh. He will not subvert the Rule of Two."
The amazarii all laughed without mirth and spit in Valen's direction. "He has been subverting the Rule since the moment he was crowned," the leader declared, "His men have raped and tortured women, undermined their freedoms and independence whenever possible. He has pandered to the worst of men, either because he agreed with their actions or was too afraid to stop them. He is a monster or a coward. If anything, it is his sins that have driven our Queen to this great rage."
I did not know what to say to that, for I knew they were right. Valen might never have laid his hand upon a woman, but he had allowed it to be done. Rather than rein in violent men under his command, he stood by and permitted them to commit serious crimes, thinking instead of the "greater good" as he saw it. It was no surprise then that the amazarii found his presence to be intolerable, and felt that his support of my cause rendered me untrustworthy.
"We cannot ally ourselves with you," the amazarii said at last, echoing my thoughts, "We will not shed our blood to put this wretched man back on the throne."
"You will not have to," I said suddenly, knowing what I had to do. I refused to look back at Valen. He would not like this decision, but it was no longer in his hands; his actions had lost him the privileges of power. "Valen will step down. He will abdicate his throne and name a successor that the women of Fermanagh can agree is suitable. He will no longer be King of Men."
There were gasps, and I heard Cedrik shout a protest. The amazari's eyes went wide, and she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "This could be a workable compromise, if he were actually to agree to such a course." She emphasized the word "if" meaningfully.
All eyes shifted to Valen. To his credit, he kept his dignity, his head held high, his bearing every bit as royal as though he were sitting on his throne that very moment. He looked at me for a long time, and I thought I saw a hint of sadness in him, slipping out of the edges of his royal mask. He swallowed, took a breath. Then, finally, found the courage to speak. We were all silent so as to catch his words. "I will abdicate," he said with a low, hoarse voice.
There was suddenly a lot of noise. Confusion, surprise, celebration by the amazarii. It took several minutes until it was quiet enough to continue negotiations. By then I had stepped closer to the amazari leader and held out my hand in a gesture of truce.
"With Valen and Valessa gone, the people of Fermanagh, both men and women together, will have the best chance at peace that they have had in a long time. When Valessa is brought to justice, the women of the city will have free reign to choose their own Queen - no man will interfere. In the meantime, you must be patient while Valen chooses his own successor, and in due course you will have a chance to approve or disapprove of his choice."
My mind was already racing with potential candidates. Naturally, Cedrik would have the proper experience, but his close connection to Valen might disqualify him in the minds of the amazarii. Perhaps Alek? The thought of crowning my dear friend brought a certain sense of satisfaction, but as much as I loved him I was not sure he was prepared to rule. Perhaps somebody else entirely, some noble-minded reasonable man of Fermanagh who could finally end this madness between the sexes. I shook my head -- there was no need to rush this decision. Time enough for choosing kings after the coming battle was over.
My thoughts were interrupted suddenly, and not by the reply of the amazari as I had anticipated. Instead it was Valen who spoke, striding through the crowd to reach my side.
"There is no need to wait," he said with confidence, "I have chosen already. I, Valen, King of Fermanagh, Ruler of the Male Sex, hereby name Markis the Exile as my successor. He is heir of Alander -- and of me."
There was an even greater uproar than before as my army shouted my name, soldiers from my tribe and from all three great cities uniting their voices together to proclaim my victory. Nearby the amazarii looked at each other and at Shara thoughtfully, as if weighing my suitability, but I couldn't spare any attention for them. I was too busy staring with at Valen with what I am sure was a shocked expression. Certainly I can still remember the surprise hitting me in the gut, so that my mouth likely fell open and mind grew numb as I struggled to think. He met my gaze coldly, a sad smile on his lips, and for a long while we looked at each other so intensely that, though we were surrounded by chaos, I began to feel that the two of us were the only ones there. _____________________________________________________________________
We have been traveling for weeks, so I have not been able to write in this account as much as I would like. My time is short. I must finish my tale before this grand tour of my lands is done and my reign ends. Every day I remain King brings more compromises, and each day I must give up a part of myself for the greater good of my people. In this way I have become too much like Valen already, and must end this all before it is too late. Too late for my people, and for me.
My power must end, as Alander's did before me, and in the void that follows who can say what will happen? I have made my preparations, but whether the people will be ready to rule themselves I cannot say. It will be in their hands.
My special one, I think of you back in Broxbourne even now, counting the days until I return. I will never see you again. Forgive me, and be happy.
I must do what I must do.
The end is in sight! Feel free to send me encouragement or questions at thephallocrat@gmail.com