The Age of Light (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 1) (30 page)

BOOK: The Age of Light (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 1)
10.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Audola nodded, considering her idea. “Your plan has
merit,” she said. “Yes, I think we can use your plan.” She looked at the
proposal. “I shall discuss this with my Voices; but I believe that we can ‘do
business,’ Sister.” She smiled.

“I shall take leave of you, then, Sister, in order
that you may consider my offer. And I am glad that we could do business together,
Av’
One,”
she said, by way of traditional reply, mirroring the other’s smile.

Audola nodded, “You are excused, Sister. I shall
take your plan to my advisors for refinement, and I shall call upon you again.”
Audola rose. Soku followed suit. She spread her arms and bowed in farewell to
the High Queen. Audola inclined her head, spread her arms.

Smiling gratefully, Soku created an av’tun and left.

 

the
peace of eve turned over all...

 

:First Voice,:
a liquidly musical voice intruded
softly in his mind. Luyon opened his eyes, a small spark of surprise showing on
his face. The
Av’rujo
had never contacted him
directly before.

*:
Av’rujo
,:* he
acknowledged with profound respect and perhaps just a bit of fear, bowing low
from where he sat. What could be so urgent that the
Av’rujo
would disdain using the voice of the High Queen to speak to him directly?
:Peace and light upon you,:
he added hastily, not wishing to give insult.

:Peace and light upon you,:
she greeted back.

*:How may I be of service to you,
Av’rujo
?:*
he asked, shivering at the feel of her in his thoughts, sweat starting under
his arms and down the middle of his back.

:First Voice, I am worried about Audola,:
the
cool, light blue voice sighed. He straightened.

“Audola? What is wrong with her?” His shock was
evident in his vocal outburst.

:She is suffering from excessive stress and
prolonged, suppressed depression,:
the
Av’rujo
said, her
voice conveying volumes.
:She still mourns her dead mate, and she has denied
the needs of her body and of her soul. You are closest to her, after myself,
but I cannot help her. But perhaps you can.:

Luyon blinked in shock. She was denying the needs of
her body?
:But - what of her bathers, High One?:
he asked incredulously.

*:She does not fraternize with them, First Voice.
She will not listen to her
ol’bey’woman
. You
may be the only one she
will
listen to.:*

“I - I will do my best,
Av’rujo
,”
he murmured, his head feeling as if it were swimming through thick, clammy mud.

:I would expect no less of you,:
the voice of the
Av’rujo
said with quiet confidence.

 

finally
the turning of eve brought the end of the light...

 

Audola entered her private
lains
.
Her head
maddi
helped her remove her semi-formal wrap and take down the outer fastenings on
her Dakua crown. Necklaces, bangles, and earrings followed, forming a small
heap of finery, which other
maddi
hastened to
stow away.

The
maddi
led her
across the main room, down the middle of three passages, to the bathing
lain,
which was dominated by a huge, tiled pool of gently steaming water. The tiles
ran over the lip of the pool to form an ornate golden pattern around it. The
rest of the floor was done in a milky marble with streaks of deep purple
running through as vivid veins. The walls had square pillars of the same marble
imbedded in them, alternating with warm cream bricking. The circular skylight
with its crystal pane and the high, broad windows shed soft light on everything.

A rainbow patch of color on the surface of the bath
water indicated that thick
palima
oil had been
poured near the edge. Its sweet, honey-like scent filled the
lain
.
Audola stepped in through the middle of the pool of oil, lowering herself
slowly into the hot, soothing water. The oil glided over her skin, closed in at
her neck as she slid down the gently sloping side of the bath, the oil
enfolding her in a cocoon of liquid silk. The tiles, heated by the water, felt
good against her sore back, stiff from sitting up straight for so many cycles.
She sighed and felt every one of her one hundred cycles of life, though she did
not look a turn over thirty. She laid her head against a thick cushion placed
at the edge of the pool gratefully. Her
maddi
loosened the
remaining tight, restricting arrangement of fastenings that turned her long,
braided hair into her crown and began to oil and arrange it into a more
comfortable, less formal style.

The door guard announced the arrival of Luyon. She
gestured acceptance of his audience, a mere formality - Luyon always had access
to her, wherever she was, with the exception of her
av’an
.
The swish of his
de’siki
robe came near.

“Peace and light upon you, my Queen,” his voice
greeted her.

“Peace and light upon you, Luyon,” she replied,
opening her eyes just long enough to make him out and raise her arms out of the
water to spread them.

Her First Voice went to one of the expansive windows
to look out in the gleaming city. The windows were high and wide, with only
thin strips of wall dividing them. The crystal panes were turned to admit the
evening breeze.

“How did it go?” he asked, his manner abrupt, as if
he were ill at ease.

Audola sighed and sat back. “The meeting with the
Doan was - informative.”


Av’
One, may I speak
to you alone?”

Audola opened her eyes to regard him speculatively.
It was an unusual request, for servants and
maddi
were as invisible as the features of a household. They were not to be
distrusted - their loyalty was absolute, lest they shame their ancestors in the
eyes of the Supreme One. Still, Luyon was her oldest and closest friend. If he
wanted to talk in absolute private, he would have good reason.

She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Please - excuse us,” she said cordially to her
servants. They all rose from their various tasks and bowed with arms spread,
left. Excited whispering followed them. A moment pregnant with a strange
silence and a tight tension filled the
lain
. Audola waited
for Luyon to speak. She gazed at his back as he stared resolutely out of the
window.

“Of what did you speak?” he finally asked, not
turning around.

For this he had asked such privacy? “She told me of
what she could infer about Tokia’s intentions,” she said, not pressing him,
letting him broach his concern in his own time. She briefly outlined the
exchange and Soku’s proposed course of action.

He listened, nodding. “It has merit,” he murmured,
his eyes still locked on the window. “But she
is
a Border Queen.” It was
not a question so much as a suspicion.

“Yes, though I am inclined to believe that she is
loyal.” She ran her hands over her arms under the water. “I have it on good
authority that she has no malice in her intentions.” The oil moved like a
living thing over her skin. “But she says that she walks a fine edge between
fidelity to the High Crown and the welfare of her Tribe.”

“She probably does,” he replied, finally looking
away from the window to gaze at her. “Life is perilous on the Border. If she
alienates her neighbors, she might as well put her Tribe to the spear one by
one.”

“Those are almost her words exactly,” the High Queen
commented in surprise. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, Luyon, I’d accuse
you of spying.”

The advisor gave her a crooked smile. “There are
those that call me the
Av
’One’s Ear as
well as her Voice,” he said, chuckling. “But I know whereof she speaks. I’ve
served in the court of a Border Tribe.”

“So her plan is feasible?”

“Oh, yes, indeed, it is workable, with a little
refinement. It will require some very skillful maneuvering, however.”

“Are you up to it?” Audola asked.

“Av’O
ne, you shame
me,” he said in a slightly offended tone. “Have I ever failed you?”

She smiled wanly. “No, Luyon, you could outmaneuver
the birds on the wing if I asked it of you.”

He inclined his head. “
Av’
One
is too kind,” he said gravely.

“Soku has offered to play the prominent role in this
plan,” she said, leaning back and closing her eyes, feeling weary, wishing that
the hands of her bathers were caressing her at this moment, soothing all the
tension out of her. “Do you think she would be useful in that capacity?”

“If her skills at the intricacy of Trade are as she
claims, then yes,
Av
’One. But hers
will be the most perilous role because Tokia will be watching her closely.” His
voice sounded nearer. “And we will have to move swiftly.”

Audola started when his hands touched her.

“May I, my Queen?” he asked softly, the scrubbing
sponge in his hand. “I
do
have experience as a bather.”

“If you wish,” she said, just a touch of uncertainty
in her voice. Surely he had not asked that the bathing
lain
be cleared so that he could bathe her himself! The idea was preposterous; and
yet there he was, shedding his robe and slipping into the water next to her,
sponge in one hand and a precious glassite bottle in the other. He urged her to
sit forward and slid behind her, expertly sweeping her
guinne
over his shoulder. He pulled her back against his lean, trim body and began to
lather her with the contents of the bottle.

Audola closed her eyes, her mind whirling, as his
hands ran over her body almost lovingly, and tentatively at first, then with
confidence.

“Luyon,” she said meaningfully, “I have servants to
do this; the very ones, in fact, that you asked to be sent away.”

“I am a servant of yours,
Av’
One,”
he replied, unperturbed, his hands kneading her shoulders.

“Luyon,” she pressed, her voice ringing with a
slight warning, even as she began to relax beneath his ministrations, “this is
highly irregular. I want an explanation.” Her tone brooked no dispute.

“Audola,” he said, his hands stilled, “I am your
Chief Advisor and your personal confidante. Your wellbeing is one of my main
concerns, and its maintenance, one of my duties. It has been brought to my
attention that you have been - neglecting certain needs and harboring certain
counterproductive emotions. This must be remedied.”

Her silence was frosty and her back once again
stiff, as if he had given offense. She waited for him to elaborate. He sighed,
leaned his head forward almost over her shoulder.

“You have been mourning for ten cycles,” he said,
his mouth close to her ear. “And you have denied yourself the pleasure of
another’s flesh in all that time. You even mourn for your daughter, and since
the attack...”

“All of that is
my
concern, Luyon, not
yours,” she said, furious, sitting forward and glaring back at him.

“No,” he said, his voice as harsh as he roughly
pulled her back and held her tightly in his arms, “it is
my
concern.
Harboring such pain and indulging in such self-denial can greatly affect your
mental state of being, Audola, which can in turn affect the decisions you make
as High Queen. You are a good ruler, and until now, you have managed to keep
the two separate. But everyone has a breaking point, and though you are the
strongest person I will ever know, you will eventually reach yours. If that
were to happen at a delicate moment or in a crucial situation, this Queendom of
yours will disintegrate to dust and your inexperienced Heir would be left to
pick up the pieces.
Kiro’birds
like
Tokia are just
waiting
for an opportunity like that to present itself.
You would not listen to D’rad’ni, your
ol’bey’woman
, and
you would not listen to the
Av’rujo
. Well,
perhaps here, now, where your rank means nothing, you will listen to
me
.”

Audola sat rigid, profound shock rooting her,
binding her in its confusing coils. Was her self-denial so serious? Could it
really influence her, the Obsidian Queen, who was like a stolid rock in the
face of all trials? But she had broken that image at the
Bolorn’toyo
- she had showed her uncertainty, had wavered. Was that a direct result of
these things she kept hidden within her? Had that break in her resolve opened
an avenue for Tokia to attack? Was this whole crisis an indirect result of
these ill-feelings that she had never bothered to expunge, but instead had
nursed and nurtured? The memory of the
afterzen
when she
had completed the Rite of Seeking three turns ago flashed before her eyes. How
weak she had been in her mother’s arms, how defenseless. She felt the blood
drain from her face.

Other books

Benighted by Kit Whitfield
Rides a Stranger by David Bell
Blood of a Barbarian by John-Philip Penny
Without Mercy by Len Levinson, Leonard Jordan
Running on Empty by Marshall Ulrich
Cat's Claw by Susan Wittig Albert