Chapter Four Elician #2
Elician’s chest had ached at the words. Months alone in a room with no one else.
No one at all. No one save a woman who wanted to take him apart and put him back together again, who wanted to understand how he worked and could not care less about what he thought or felt or knew.
Who laid him out on a bed that bent his spine to the point of a constant, pervasive agony, and who set him against a Reaper just to see how his power could work.
To test Life versus Death. Each touch had been pain.
But when Elician takes Cat’s hand, Cat offers nothing but kindness in return. ‘Thank you,’ he had said.
And Cat’s answering, ‘Always,’ had buoyed him through all his preparations.
He is ready for Laure when she comes. He plays a charming host, summoning up all his lessons on courtesy as he arranges tea and bread for her.
He sits with Cat on the couch as she perches on a comfortable chair across from them, a small knee-high table hosting their refreshments.
He speaks to her in her own language, far more proficient now than he was the last time he saw her, before he left for war.
‘Thank you for your patience in the arrangement of this meeting,’ Elician begins.
‘As I’m sure you understand, things have been quite hectic these past few days. ’
‘I do understand,’ Laure replies, eyes sliding to Cat. ‘I remember when you died.’ To his credit, Cat does not outwardly react. He sits still as stone, tight-lipped and regal. He would have done his mother proud.
When he does respond, he does so only after he takes a few steady breaths.
His words are soft, but they carry. ‘Were you there, also, when I killed my father at my mother’s request?
’ he asks. ‘Or when I served my mother as her executioner for those who defied her? Or when she ordered me to come to Soleb to secure the end of this war and bring peace for our people?’
‘I was not,’ Laure admits. ‘But I was there, in my office, when you killed me once before.’
‘And you were there when I ensured you were brought back as well.’ Cat shrugs.
‘You do not deny that this is Alest, son of Queen Alenée?’ Elician interjects. Laure cuts him a look.
‘It is the official position of Alelune that the firstborn son of Queen Alenée is dead.’
‘And I died,’ Cat agrees. ‘But it is not the opinion of any in court that I remained that way. I am next in line for my mother’s throne.’
‘And you wish to make a claim?’
‘Yes.’
‘You are in the wrong country if that is what you wish.’ It is a fair and even point. One that is offered with little judgement or rebuke.
‘My uncle killed your queen,’ Elician says. ‘While there is a succession…in debate, I wish to sue for peace. A truce was drawn for the Kingsclave, and I would ask that it stays in place.’
‘King Gillage was crowned in the immediate aftermath of our queen’s demise,’ Laure replies. ‘There is no debate. The time for raising questions about legitimacy has long since passed. If Alest wishes to make his claim, then he will have to face Death for judgement.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It’s a ritual,’ she replies. ‘When a challenger dares question our monarch’s eligibility to lead, the two stand before Death herself and ask our goddess to determine which line is true.’
That seems rather pragmatic, all things considered.
But it carries with it a sense of spiritual depth that Elician is not prepared to fully consider.
What if Death denies Cat? What if she wants Gillage to rule?
They will never be able to convince the country to turn against the boy if a literal deity deems him fit.
Perhaps, then, the best that can be hoped for is securing Soleb’s borders, but Cat’s Reapers would be lost and their promise for peace would be meaningless.
‘What would I have to do?’ Cat asks. ‘For this ritual?’
Laure takes her time in replying, and when she speaks it is slow and precise.
‘You will need to stand in the Temple of Death in Alerae and accept her judgement, whatever that may be.’ It would mean crossing the entire country once again.
The same journey Elician only just escaped from.
It would be weeks of riding back across the well-trodden land, to place them both in the seat of a city that neither yearns to see again.
Cat refused to even contemplate taking the Alelunen crown if it meant being there alone amongst the vipers and the snakes.
Elician did not blame him in the least. He wouldn’t have been able to accept such a thing either.
It was inevitable that they would need to return, but Elician wishes dearly that they had more time.
Adalei wished for the very same as well.
She pressured them for it. Insisted on writing to Partho first and foremost. Allies would be better than no allies.
But if it will all come down to a god’s judgement… would those allies even matter?
Alelune takes its fealty to Death very seriously. No mortal attachment would supersede her will.
‘And my brother would allow me to issue such a challenge?’ Cat asks.
‘In this,’ Laure replies grudgingly, ‘Death is the only one who can decide the outcome. All previous claimants have been permitted the chance to try.’
Cat bites his lip, seems to realize he did it and stops as soon as he started. He nods. ‘All right, I will go to Alerae and challenge Gillage before Death. But…I ask that Gillage not restart the war in the meantime.’
‘I cannot guarantee such a thing, but I can issue the request,’ Laure says in turn. ‘When will you come to Alerae?’
Cat hesitates. He glances at Elician, and Elician realizes he has no answer to give. His own coronation is looming, his own lands and lords need to be consulted, but then…
‘Three months,’ Elician replies for them both. ‘Give us three months and safe passage, and we’ll be there.’
‘We?’
‘My uncle dishonoured our country by killing your queen where she should have been safe. I will accompany Alest to Alerae as a gesture to my commitment to the necessity that this war must end, one way or another.’
‘And if Alest should fail during the challenge?’ Laure asks.
‘Then I will be there to negotiate with Gillage in person the terms for peace between our nations, as should have been done with my uncle and Queen Alenée.’ He doesn’t have much hope for that prospect.
But it will be all he can do. ‘Afterwards, however, in such a scenario, both Alest and I will return to Soleb, together.’ Cat would never be prisoner in those Reaper cells again, and Elician cannot countenance a plan that has them walking back to Alerae only to see that transpire.
A letter has already been sent to Captain Partho, requesting him to stand for Cat.
If there is a positive response, the captain could provide the requisite escort and ensure they are unharmed.
If his honour holds true, then he will make sure Cat and Elician return unharmed as well.
Though if he rejects their call for aid…
Elician does not know what they’ll do. But that is a plan he can make once they have an answer.
It should come soon. He hopes it comes soon.
Laure sips at her tea. She holds the cup with both hands, letting it warm her skin.
When she asks, ‘Is this the message you wish me to convey?’ there is resignation in her tone.
Elician wonders what it is she decided in those long moments of reflection.
But her thoughts are not the ones that matter most now. Only Gillage’s response matters.
‘Yes,’ he confirms.
‘Yes,’ Cat acquiesces.
‘Then we will put it to writing,’ Laure confirms. It takes them only a few minutes more to get the documentation together. They sort out the particulars, times and dates and assurances. Extra leeway is padded on to ensure the message can be delivered and responded to in due course.
When she leaves, Elician asks Cat: ‘Do you think Death will accept you?’
And with more bravado than Elician has ever seen Cat display, his betrothed responds: ‘She has already made me her Reaper, what else could anyone do to prove themselves to her?’ And just for a moment, Elician cannot help but think that maybe they might finally, finally, have something going their way.