The Eyes of a King (44 page)

He stood silent for a long time. In that silence I heard Grandmother begin to tell me some story about her childhood, in a high, weak voice that did not sound like her own. “She is old, Leo,” Father Dunstan said then. “And shock is not good for someone so old.”

I just looked at him in silence. And then Grandmother came
back. She stared at us, felt the mud in her untidy hair, and started up from the sofa. “Leo!” she said. “What happened? Father?”

Father Dunstan knelt beside her and took her hands. “Rest there for a moment, Margaret,” he said. “You have had a shock; that is all.” He began to tell her, and she listened, tears rising in her eyes again.

“I was never like this before,” she said, crying again, when he had finished. “What are we going to do without Stirling? I never had these strange turns, or felt so tired, when he was here.”

“It is understandable that you are not quite yourself,” Father Dunstan said. “These past days have been very difficult for you, Margaret. You need to rest, and you will begin to feel more normal.” He went on talking to her, and she listened anxiously.

Moving slowly, I fetched a shawl for her and helped her wash the mud from her face. Father Dunstan made more tea and he and Grandmother talked quietly. I sat in silence and watched my own hands shaking. “I have to go,” said Father Dunstan eventually, taking out his watch. “I was on my way to see a very sick child. I don’t want to leave you like this, but I have no choice.” In the half darkness of the room, he caught my eyes briefly, as if to tell me something. “You will be all right?” he said, turning to Grandmother.

“Aye, of course,” she said. “I feel fine now, Father. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure it is nothing to be anxious about.” But I could hear her voice quavering.

“Take care of your grandmother,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder for a moment. And then he left.

We sat in silence, without looking at each other. My hands
were shaking worse than ever. “Leo, Leo,” said Grandmother then, trying to take them in hers. “Don’t be afraid. It’s all right now. I am myself again. It was just those soldiers.”

It was not fear that was making my hands tremble and my heart beat fast. I thought I could see the room growing darker in front of my eyes. I could tell suddenly that I was going to do something like I had before—throw a chair through the window or hit my head against the wall. But Grandmother was so weak and frightened; I was terrified of shocking her again. I thought that if I sat still and kept my eyes closed, I would be safe. I willed myself not to move.

The lamp went out. I didn’t dare to get up, so we sat in darkness. I could hear Grandmother’s breathing—deliberate and irregular, as though she had to think about it—but nothing else. And then there was a sudden bang at the door.

Grandmother tried to get up. I raised my hand to stop her from moving. “Go and answer the door, Leo,” she said weakly. “Please go. It must be Father Dunstan back again.”

I forced myself to go to the door. “Hurry,” said someone outside. It was not Father Dunstan’s voice. Light showed under the door, flickering strangely. I struggled with the catch, then got it open.

Outside was a soldier with a burning torch in his hand. He stood close enough that I could feel the heat on my face. “Good evening,” he said. “Are you the main occupant of these premises?” I didn’t answer. He smirked faintly and went on. “An Unacceptable has been traced to this address. I am here to bring you the warrant for her arrest and detainment under the Unacceptable Classes Act Clause 24.”

He handed me a folded sheet of paper. It fell through my
fingers. He shrugged and went on with his recitation. “Soldiers will arrive in the next few days to collect her and take her to an appropriate center. You are advised that—”

Behind me, Grandmother started to cry. She was sobbing loudly, rocking back and forth, her face in her hands. The soldier raised his torch and took in the mud in her hair, her filthy nightdress, and the dark, shabby room. Then he laughed and shook his head. “Poor old bitch. This is life, eh?”

“I’ll kill you,” I said out loud.

He raised his eyebrows and gave me a jovial punch on the shoulder. “Just try it.”

There was a silence while we stared at each other. I clenched my fists until my knuckles burned with pain. “Leo, come away from the door …,” Grandmother was murmuring.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” said the soldier, turning to leave.

I swayed in the doorway and tried to remain still. Then I could not. I pushed him against the wall, then snatched the torch from his hand and threw it hard down the stairs. Next thing, I had hold of his shirt as if to strangle him. I stumbled on that rifle in the doorway, and I suddenly had it in my hand, trying to bring it down on his head, but he caught my arm. My heartbeat was thumping in my forehead; he was swearing; Grandmother behind us was crying out, her voice high and frightened. “Leo, stop!” someone else was shouting then, trying to separate us. And then louder, “Don’t hurt Anselm! Don’t hurt Anselm!”

I collapsed onto my knees. There was blood on my forehead; he must have hit me. Maria had separated us. She was kneeling in front of me now, in her nightdress, the baby
screaming in her arms. The soldier was hurrying away down the stairs.

“I heard noises, and I came to see,” Maria was gasping. “Leo, I didn’t want you to get into bad trouble; you looked like you were going to kill him. Who was that man? What did he want?”

She reached for my hand. I did not want her to touch me. I staggered away from her, still shaking. I was frightening myself now but I could not help it. I got up and ran down the stairs, struggling with the safety catch on that rifle. I could still hear Grandmother sobbing, and Maria was calling after me to come back. At the bottom I tripped and crashed down hard on the floor. I staggered to my feet again. I pulled open the front door and ran out into the alley.

The street was empty. The soldier had gone.

I fired a shot anyway, into the silence. Then I fell down in the alley and rested my head in my hands.

“W
hat was that?” said Lucien, on the balcony. The distant gunshot had sent a bird snapping through the treetops of the roof garden below.

“A troublemaker in the city,” said Talitha. “The law enforcement will be there, no doubt.”

Lucien nodded, but his eyes had darkened. The others stood in silence and watched him. Ahira was a short way off, frowning into the night. Darius and Anna had just come out onto the battlements, unnoticed. Cannons pointed into the starlit sky from this
highest balcony, and Anna glanced at them now. Darius stepped forward. “The girl, Your Majesty. You sent for her.”

Lucien turned. Talitha remained where she stood, her back to the others so that Anna could not see her face.

Lucien took a couple of steps toward Anna. “You do not have the silver eagle?” he said. “Not on your person, here in Malonia.”

“No,” Anna said. Lucien stared at her for a moment. Then he muttered something to Talitha, and she turned to look at Anna.

Anna was startled. Ryan had said that Talitha had been in the secret service for thirty years with Aldebaran, but that was not possible. This woman was young—perhaps only thirty—a beautiful woman with very red lips and dark eyelashes. She did not look like someone trained in magic. She did not stand resigned and wise either; she put her arm about Lucien’s shoulder and ran her mouth idly over the side of his face, and he pressed his face into her neck as he talked.

Talitha replied, in a low voice. Anna started suddenly. She had thought that something was inside her head. A spider was crawling inside her skull, over everything that she had ever thought or felt. Talitha was staring at her strangely. Anna tried to look away and think of nothing, but she could not do it; she could not look away.

“She does not have the necklace …,” whispered Talitha to Lucien. Then she lowered her voice still further so that no one else could hear. The others waited. Ahira glanced at Anna briefly, then turned and looked out over the silent city.

“What if the girl has not actually given the jewel to Cassius?” said Lucien.

“What if?” said Talitha. “It will make no difference. The necklace
is what is important. The gift means nothing. This is science.” She paused. “One interesting thing though, Sire. This girl is not irrelevant. She is an English relative of Aldebaran’s.”

“What does this mean?” said Lucien. “That we can hold her as a hostage? To make Aldebaran give up the silver eagle? You mean to say torture …”

Talitha went on muttering, and Lucien nodded at everything she said. Then he turned to Anna and considered her for a moment. “It is regrettable, but there is no other course that we can take. We cannot kill Cassius; the silver eagle is hidden and we do not have time to retrieve it by any other means.”

“I will communicate with Aldebaran,” said Talitha. “I will give him half an hour. Long enough to panic; not long enough to think. After that, we can kill the girl anyway and nothing will be lost.” She turned to the two soldiers. “Tie that girl up.”

Darius hurried away down the stairs to fetch ropes, then appeared again and tied Anna’s hands and feet, smirking. “Do that carefully!” Talitha said suddenly. Darius stopped where he was, still winding the rope around Anna’s ankles. “This girl is a close relative of a very powerful man,” said Talitha.

Lucien turned to her. “Does she have powers? This English girl?”

Talitha glanced at Anna again. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, she does.” Then she looked away. “One of you, keep your rifle trained on her.”

Darius swung his rifle off his shoulder and raised it, then pretended to fire a shot with a quick laugh.

“I will do it,” said Ahira, putting his hand on the gun. “You are supposed to be at the border, and it will take you the night to get there.”

Darius stared at Ahira for a moment, then shoved him hard with his shoulder. Ahira grabbed the rifle, and at the
same moment there was a gunshot. The bullet ricocheted off the castle wall. Ahira wrested the gun from Darius’s grip. “Go to the border,” he said firmly. He put the gun back into the soldier’s hands, flat, but stood between him and Anna. Darius looked to Lucien.

“Go,” said Lucien. “Ahira will come later with me. You are needed there.”

“But surely, it will only take—”

“Go! Stop arguing and go!”

Darius disappeared through the doorway, muttering, and clattered away down the stone staircase. Silence fell. “Aldebaran,” said Talitha into the silence.

“Can he hear you?” whispered Lucien.

In England, in the dark library beside the lake, the great Aldebaran started and looked up. The rising wind and the waves of the lake had called his name.

Lucien paced up and down the balcony. “What is Aldebaran doing?” he said after a while.

“I cannot tell,” said Talitha. “I will send troops to the ruined chapel at midnight. If Aldebaran is there, they will take the silver eagle from him.”

There was silence again on the balcony. Anna’s eyes were fixed on Ahira. He glanced at Talitha, then turned to Anna and mouthed something about ropes. She tried to pull her hands free, and he gave a quick nod.

The ropes had been tight enough to cut her wrists, but they were loosening now. She concentrated her mind on them and the knots slid outward. Then Talitha turned. “I will tighten those,” she said.

Anna started to gasp but could not breathe in. The ropes were tightening about her wrists and ankles, but not just the ropes: the air was suddenly tightening around her as well. Her heart was thudding strangely, first in her head, then in her chest, then in her stomach. She could not breathe, and she felt the air crushing her bones. Her chest was stabbing with pain. She fell sideways onto the floor, the air pressing down on her as heavy as steel.

Then Talitha turned away, and Anna was lying in the dust, gasping in air again and shivering. “Aldebaran cares about his family,” Talitha said. “Fifteen minutes he has now. I think this will work.”

“Is it really necessary to torture a young girl, Talitha?” began Lucien. “I mean to say—” Talitha raised her hand, and he fell silent.

“Where are you going?” demanded Ryan as Aldebaran ran down the stairs.

“The chapel. Stay in the house.”

Ryan rubbed his bandaged head and got up, though the room swayed in front of him when he did it. “Uncle, you will not tell me what is happening. Tell me about Anna; is she safe? Please—”

“I have no time. I have to go. Stay here.”

Ryan grabbed Aldebaran’s arm, running after him into the dark. He swayed then, and Aldebaran caught hold of him to stop him from falling. “Go back to the house. Now, Ryan!”

“Tell me why you are going to the chapel.”

“I can’t tell you. Ryan, if you don’t let me go—” Something fell from Aldebaran’s hand and landed, glittering, on the grass. There was a silence.

“That is the silver eagle,” said Ryan. “Uncle, I don’t understand what you are doing.”

Across the lake, the church clock chimed twelve.