23.2

After several days in Castle Blackpool, Kendall Kraxton had yet to receive an audience with the new king. Kendall was agitated at being ignored. After spending several years in exile to protect the reputation of this particular king, he had expected a warmer welcome.

Today, however, he had been promised that Dirk would finally see him. The knight expected that the meeting would finally re-establish the position of authority that he had lost when Saris banished him.

When the appointed time for his overdue audience finally arrived, Kendall waited impatiently in the parlor. The room contained an unfinished painting of the queen that he had admired with Cai on a previous occasion.

As the minutes ticked by, he could not help but notice how much this part of the castle had changed. He remembered this room had been a dark, dour place when Saris had been in charge. It had once been permeated with the dank, musty smell of decaying, ancient tapestries.

Now this room, like most of the castle, burst with fresh opulence. The luxurious, dark brocades over the windows, elegant black velvet couches and rich carpets were unmistakably new. The benign neglect of generations of kings had been recently erased and replaced with someone's new love of sensuous, decadent fabrics.

Kendall shook his head in dismay. Instead of directing money to the battlefield, Dirk was obviously letting his new wife talk him into buying overpriced throw cushions and curtains. The rugs alone looked like they would feed a legion for an entire season.

His eyes fell upon the enormous bouquet of delicate, dried purple snow orchids arranged in an elegant vase set with a ring of pea-sized sapphires around its circumference. He frowned. Any one of those jewels would pay a Northern officer for a month. To see such wealth squandered on baubles brought a sneer to his lip. The snow orchids were, of course, the grandest absurdity of all.

"Flowers," he snorted, shaking his head in dismay at the inappropriateness of it in this castle. "What the hell happened here?"

"Hell is precisely what happened." Dirk Blackpool's mocking voice rang out loudly from the doorway behind Kendall. "Hi."

Kendall tried to mask his surprise. He mumbled, "I had nearly forgotten how much you like to do that." The knight bowed deferentially, "My liege."

"There was a rumor that you were dead," the king announced curtly, sizing the man up as he entered the room.

Kendall stood up straight and proud before he said, "When I left, I made an oath to you that I would return when you became king. That day has come."

"Perhaps you should first ask me to grant you a pardon then. Officially, you are still banished from the realm on pain of death."

"With your merciful permission, my lord," the knight pleaded sarcastically.

Dirk smirked briefly, then motioned to a pair of small couches. Kendall waited respectfully for the king to sit before moving toward them.

He studied Dirk carefully then. The man's hair was longer than Kendall had ever seen it. It was so long now, that he wore it pulled back behind his neck. Kendall had seen many of the castle guards wearing their hair that way too. He had made fun of one of them earlier today and been told matter-of-factly that male fashion was now set by the queen's foreign birthplace. Kendall had already been told the old Aperansian styles were a now sign of provincial southern poverty. He found the new foreign influence on his homeland sickening.

"You look as though life has treated you well, my lord," Kendall said cordially, forcing himself to smile.

"Of course it has," Dirk answered, his tone excessively defensive. He knew the dark circles under his eyes revealed that he had been unable to sleep lately. At best, he drank himself into a stupor each night, brooding in self-pity until he passed out. He had never been more miserable.

Zyrdicia had already been gone a week now. The rest of the castle still assumed she would be back at any moment. Dirk knew that was not going to happen. This time, she was gone for good. He sank a bit deeper into melancholy with each passing day. Not even news of the famine in the South could raise his spirits.

He glared at the knight now, wondering whether Kendall's remark had been calculated to mock him. He was certain no one in the castle sensed the depth of his present despair. He believed he had kept it well hidden. He feared the servants would talk behind his back and mock him secretly. Perhaps they were doing it already. Seeing Kendall's expression now, Dirk decided that there had been no intentional slight.

He changed the subject quickly, "Cai tells me you made your way here overland through Camerand. Did you like what you saw there?"

"The entire South is a wasteland. Forests uprooted, fields burned, whole villages swept away by wind storms. I've never seen starvation like that anywhere. What you've done is impressive - they are at the end of their rope."

"Yes, and now that winter has fallen, they discover that rope is a noose."

"I spent a bit of time gathering information there. Your image there has undergone a breathtaking transformation since I left."

"And?"

Kendall reported, "According to the southern peasants, you sold your soul to a she-devil and managed to call forth all the power in Hell to destroy Camerand. I don't suppose it's true?" Kendall grinned, trying to pass off the question as a jest.

Dirk's smile faded slowly and his gaze drifted to the fire burning in the hearth. He sighed heavily. He murmured almost inaudibly, "They've no idea."

Kendall stared curiously, awaiting a tongue-in-cheek explanation. When none came, he said hopefully, "Peasants spread lies. It is their nature."

Dirk asked abruptly, "Tell me, did you learn anything in Camerand other than the peasants' confidence in my ability to annihilate them?"

"Justin Greystone is moving troops down from the Western Perimeter toward Castle Baaldorf."

"Yes, I know. They are expecting me to lay siege to it come spring. Did you see how many men they are moving?"

"I spent four days counting them from every possible vantage point, my lord," the knight answered, his expression suddenly serious. "Four-hundred fifty infantry men. Four score horsemen. They're a hungry, ragged lot. The bad winter weather is already slowing their progress to Baaldorf."

"Excellent information."

"And there are another hundred and fifty in the Crystal Wood in southern Camerand."

"Yes, I heard about that. I'll kill them soon enough."

"Your triumph seems inevitable."

"Of course it is," Dirk scoffed cockily.

"I congratulate you on your impending victory, my lord." Kendall arched a brow slightly and added, "And on your nuptials. To hear your men in the castle tell it, your queen is a rare prize."

At the mention of Zyrdicia, Dirk felt his cheeks burn as he reddened involuntarily. He hoped that Kendall did not notice it, but he feared it was too obvious. Embarrassed, Dirk simply scowled. His eyes moved again to the fire blazing in the nearby fireplace. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He hated himself for having allowed this sort of emotional weakness to take root.

Despite his best efforts, he could not shed the feeling of anguish. He could not pry his heart free from the iron grip that this woman had on it - even if she now hated him. He shuddered to think just how much he would be willing to sacrifice to turn back the clock to the night Zyrdicia last came to see him, just to have the opportunity to not say those damnable lies. Right now, she was the only thing in the world he wanted.

After a long moment, he said quietly, "The devastation you saw in Camerand was not caused by gods or demons or even whole armies. All of it was my wife's doing - the earthquakes, the floods, the plagues, the famine. She even raised a volcano on the outskirts of Mirdon to bury the Greystone capital in lava. Her magical talents are spectacular."

"Most impressive, my lord."

"She turned Camerand into a wasteland to please me." Dirk hoped his voice did not sound wistful. He found it terribly hard to discuss her now. "She even blinded Eric Greystone and tortured his vassal, Marko, to death, for my amusement."

The knight said cautiously, "I suppose such power would be perilous, if it were it ever to turn against you."

Dirk's head whipped around to glare at the vassal icily. He fingered the monocle at his chest and weighed whether to kill the man for his impertinence. Kendall had never learned Cai's skill of checking his tongue.

Dirk growled, "She wouldn't dare! She loves me." He stood then and stormed out of the room, leaving Kendall to wonder why the king was so defensive.