The Eyes of a King (45 page)

Talitha, on the balcony, shook her head. “Aldebaran has not come?” said Lucien.

“I was not sure,” said Talitha. “Aldebaran does not care enough about his family, perhaps.” She turned to survey Anna. “We have lost nothing. But we will have to kill this girl anyway. He will have his resistance people here storming the castle if he thinks there is a chance that she can be rescued. We cannot give him time to think. I will go down and tell them to call the troops back from the church. I will be back here in a few minutes.”

Lucien turned to Ahira. “Untie her and stand her against that wall.”

“I will take her down to the yard,” said Ahira, untying Anna’s ankles and wrists. “I will do it there. Or perhaps we should not be so hasty. Perhaps we should hold her in a cell for another night.”

“No! We have no time; you heard what Talitha said. Aldebaran could use this to provoke the people to revolution—a noble cause, rescuing the prince’s true love. We must finish this and assemble the army at once. Do you not understand?” There was more than a trace of panic in Lucien’s voice. “The enemies among us have been in contact with him for months. The army uncovered one of their bases today, with stacks of communications, detailed plans. We are on the brink of revolution. The boy must not return. We have to stop Aldebaran’s words from being fulfilled. It’s not enough to go into hiding and kill him when he gets here. We will never get power back once we have lost it. We have to show them that there is no future except for King Lucien. Shoot the girl quickly. Let us do what we can about this problem, and then turn to the Alcyrians.”

Ahira took a pistol from his belt and aimed it at Anna’s head.
Lucien turned to look out over the balcony again. She opened her mouth to speak but she could not. Ahira looked straight into her eyes for a moment. Then she shut them.

Stumbling through the dark forest, Aldebaran heard the gunshot and fell to his knees. Ryan ran up to him, catching hold of his arm again. “What is it? Uncle, what is it?” And Aldebaran turned to say that he had told Ryan to go back to the house, but he could no longer speak.

Anna opened her eyes. Lucien, silhouetted on the balcony, fell to the floor.

His blood was running over the stones, toward her feet; she clasped her hand to her mouth and could not move. Ahira lowered the gun and turned back to her. “Don’t speak.” His voice was shaking. He grabbed Anna and pushed her through the door.

They stumbled out of control down the staircase. “Talitha will know,” Ahira said. “Soon, she will know. Run fast and stay with me.”

They raced through the dark corridors and stairways of the castle, whipping up the flames of sleeping torches as they passed. Ahira kept one hand on her shoulder, the pistol still raised in his other. At the side door, he paused and surveyed the empty yard.

Somewhere high above them, someone cried out suddenly—at first a shout, then a wail that did not fade in the night air. “Run,” said Ahira. “Stay with me. That is her; that is Talitha.”

He pushed her toward the stables. “Smith!” he called out to the nearest soldier. “Get me a horse, quickly.”

The man was barely older than Anna, with sunburn peeling on his nose. He fetched a horse and put the reins into Ahira’s hand, bowing slightly. Ahira swung Anna up onto the horse and climbed on behind her. He bent to speak to the man. “The king is dead,”
he said. “Alert your people. Alert your revolutionaries.” The man stared at him, raising his hands as though he was afraid. Then Ahira kicked the horse into a gallop and they were at the gates. “That boy is with the resistance,” said Ahira. “I have been watching him for a long time. He will tell the right people.”

There were shouts as they turned from the gate onto the road, and gunshots from the windows above. The ground burst with bullets around them. The horse skittered sideways as it turned the corner, and Anna was looking suddenly over the edge of the rock face. But it scrambled back into a gallop and went on. Then there was shouting, closer, and hooves were rapidly leaving the yard above them. Anna was slipping on the horse’s back. “All right,” said Ahira, throwing one arm around her waist. “Listen, believe that the bullets will miss. You have powers; you can protect us. Please.” He shouted at the horse and it galloped faster. Then they were in the town and sheltered for a moment from the falling bullets. A crowd of people leapt out of their way as they passed.

Ahira directed the horse into a narrow street, without letting go of Anna’s waist. It stumbled and lurched forward, and her heart jumped, but Ahira did not let her fall. The noise behind was suddenly growing fainter. “When we get to the church,” Ahira muttered, “don’t look back at me; just go. Leave me to whatever comes. All right?”

A
fter I stumbled down the stairs, I remained in the alleyway and could not get up. Maria came down, and Grandmother, but I did not move. “Leo, you are shaking,” said Grandmother. “You are not well. Tell me what it is.” The baby
screamed. I sat there with my eyes closed and would not answer them, though they came down several times.

“We will be upstairs,” said Maria eventually. “I understand if you want to stay by yourself, Leo.” And they left me there in the silence.

I was trying to force myself to stay still until I was calm. I managed it for a long time; it felt like hours had passed while I sat motionless. But then I had to do something. I had to, otherwise I would go insane. Hot tears were burning in my eyes. I wanted to find that soldier. Or anyone. I did not care anymore. I could feel my hands shaking as though they were someone else’s, and hear my heart beating like a stranger’s heart. It made me frightened, but I went on. I stumbled out into the street.

People began surging past me. They were as far away as ghosts. “Revolution! Revolution!” they were chanting. One of them tried to pull me along with them, but I pushed him away. Then they were gone, and again the street was silent.

My heart had turned cold. I hated everything suddenly—the dark street around me and those people who had passed, the castle on the rock above, the blue flags flying, and every one of the soldiers. The soldiers most of all. I fell down in the mud of the alley again and pressed my face to the ground. I tried to drown myself. I really did. I was so angry that I could not go on living without doing something terrible. But I thought that if I lay there long enough, it might still be all right.

Lying there, drowning in the wet earth, I realized that I could hear shouts. Not only shouts, but horses’ hooves also, and gunshots. I rolled over, still lying in the mud, and stared down the street. In that moment—that last moment of stillness—I saw everything as if it was caught in glass. A horse, going at a
gallop. On the horse were two people. One was that girl, Anna, their captive. Behind her was the soldier. Lucien’s man, Ahira. Not just a soldier, but the worst of them all. I hated him above all others. I was so angry that the stars shivered, and I saw lightning though there were no clouds. That was why I did it. That was when I decided. And even in that moment, I was praying silently, Don’t let me do this.

I put the rifle to my shoulder. I aimed it at the man’s head. He could not see me, because he had no eye on the right-hand side of his face, and that was the side that was toward me. Still, everything seemed frozen. I couldn’t think. But I didn’t need to. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

T
ime stopped with that gunshot. “Get to the church!” Ahira gasped in that moment. Then he landed hard in the road. In the darkness of an alleyway, someone moved.

The horse pounded off again. Anna was slipping now, without Ahira to hold her. She lost her grip on the horse’s mane. She tried to turn back to see what had happened, but the horse was galloping faster now. As it turned a corner, she jolted into the air and fell.

She was suddenly on her back in the mud, staring up at the stars. For a moment she made out the English constellations, startled to see them here. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt her, but she was not injured. She lay there, gasping not enough air into her lungs. Then she sat up. The horse had disappeared.

She could see the domed roof of the church below, only a few streets away. She got up and began running, but her legs were weak now. The torture Talitha had inflicted had left her muscles
shaking, and as fast as she ran, she could hear the hoofbeats coming closer above her. And gunshots. Anna came out onto the edge of the square, fell to her knees, and crawled into the doorway of a house. After that she did not dare to move. They were closing in, down the alleyway above her. Ahira was shot, and they could shoot her too. There could be snipers on the roofs and machine-gun posts in these dark houses. She could not tell. She glanced around the square, suddenly dizzy, and the stars tracked across the sky as though they were falling.

In that moment, lying there in the doorway, Anna did not think about whether she would die. She was suddenly thinking about powers. About what Talitha had said, and what Ahira had said. Believe that the bullets will miss. It was only forty steps to the door of the church, and she could run that far. She stood up and closed her eyes, still in the shadow of the doorway. And then she ran out into the square.

Someone shouted, but Anna did not turn. She could hear gunshots now, and a strange whistling in her ears, and dull thuds ahead in the wall of the church. She ran faster. One of the horse statue’s ears shattered ahead of her. A gas lamp exploded behind. In a house close by, a child screamed. Then something caught the side of her head and she stumbled. But she was inside the church. Anna fell down and crawled between two pews. And suddenly silence and darkness surrounded her.

I
came back suddenly. The anger left me. I was flat in the mud of the street, dazed and shivering, with a rifle against my shoulder. Ahira lay motionless in the road.

In the silence he moved feebly and lay still. Then I realized it: I had shot him. I stopped breathing.

And after that, I don’t remember so well what happened.

I had the stupid thought that perhaps he was not dead. I stumbled over to where the body lay. No. He was dead all right. I was shivering uncontrollably now. I wondered if I was possessed. If someone else had taken me over and ordered me to fire that shot. Nothing seemed real. I sat down beside him in the road and told myself it was only a dream.

There was a gold ring on his finger, glinting in the light of the streetlamps the way my own christening bracelet was. This close, I could even see the lines on that famous man’s hands, and the fine streaks of gray in his hair. I had not shot this man, I kept telling myself. It was impossible.

Then I could hear horses approaching behind, and shouts. Soldiers. I crawled into the darkness of the alley and watched them. They reined in their horses and leapt from them, talking urgently. I got to my feet without knowing what I was doing and staggered back up the stairs.

I collided with someone at the apartment door. It was Maria, asking what was going on. I was shaking and I could not stop. The darkness outside the window was thick with gunshots. Grandmother got to her feet and came toward me. “I can hear the soldiers talking out there,” she told us urgently. “They will come to take me away. I am not mad! Maria, they want to take me away, after all that has happened already.” And she began to cry again. Maria put her arms around Grandmother, her eyes on me as I moved about the apartment with that rifle in my hand.