Chained By Fear: 2 (12 page)

“I am Yama-Deva. I would know your name, as well, but the more important question is: Why do you chain me?”

A soldier climbed onto the cart and struck the creature’s thighs with a flail. “Do not speak to the king with such insolence,” the soldier said.

Yama-Deva did not flinch, but Invictus snarled and then raised his hand. Golden light leapt from his palm and incinerated the soldier, armor and all.

The killing had little effect on Laylah. Nothing her brother did surprised her anymore.

The sorcerer turned back to the creature and smiled. “Yama-Deva, I apologize for any rudeness on the part of my associates, and I assure you it will not happen again. Instead, allow me to answer your questions. My name is Invictus, and I am king of Avici. And your chains? A simple misunderstanding. You are an honored guest, not a prisoner.”

“A snow giant cannot be fooled by false words. But my perception extends beyond the ability to perceive deception. It is plain to me that you are strong
 . . .
too strong even for me.”

Laylah interrupted. “Let him go.”

The sorcerer twisted around, startled. At first he appeared angry, but then his expression softened. “And if I set him free, will you do something for me?”

Everyone stared at Laylah—except for the snow giant, who lowered his gaze and sighed.

“No,” Laylah said. “I will not. Cannot.”

For a moment, Invictus assumed the expression of a frustrated child. “Then this beast will pay the price for your insolence. I will subject him to torture that will ruin his mind. Is that what you want? With but a word from you, I will return him to his home and never trouble him or his kind again.”

The snow giant raised his head and met her eyes. He spoke words she barely understood. “
Naham te dhuram, kumarakaa. Ma bhayi. Me niyati saniyati
. (I’m not your responsibility, child. Do not fear for me. My fate is my own.)”

Laylah ran.

Invictus snarled.

Urbana cackled.

Another night, ruined.

Ten years after Invictus
imprisoned the snow giant, Laylah still obsessed over the creature’s dismal fate. Then his name had been Yama-Deva. But after a decade of torture, he had been transformed into a hideous monster. Now he was Mala, the latest and greatest horror in her brother’s expanding menagerie. It sickened Laylah that such a beautiful creature could be so thoroughly ruined, especially when she felt at least partially to blame. But the Chain Man was so repulsive it became impossible to pity him. Instead, Laylah grew to hate him as much as she did Invictus, Vedana and Urbana.

The day after her brief encounter with Yama-Deva on the Golden Road, Laylah began to endure a new form of psychological torture. Just after sunset, Invictus appeared in the hallway outside her bedchamber. As he had vowed more than forty years before, he did not enter her room without her permission. But for the short period between sunset and full darkness, he tapped on the door and begged her to reconsider.

“I want a son, Laylah
 . . .
that is all. Give me an heir, and I swear I’ll set you free. Why won’t you believe me?”

“Please go away,” she said.

And he did.

But the next night
 . . .

“I have potions that will make you sleepy. You won’t even know I’m there. All I ask is for a son, and you may go wherever you desire. I swear it. Why won’t you believe me?”

“Please
 . . .
go away.”

The next night, and the next, and the next, more of the same. He begged, pleaded, cajoled. Some nights his voice was indignant. Others, it was like honey.

“I can appear as anyone you choose. You won’t even know it’s me. Give me permission to enter your room. Subdue your revulsion. Give me a son, and I’ll set you free.”

“Please
 . . .
go
 . . .
away.”

When blessed darkness finally arrived, Invictus would depart. But Laylah’s suffering did not end there. She would shake and sob, knowing all too well that he would come again the next evening. How long could she bear it? Eventually, she began to question her resolve. Maybe he was right. Just let him have her and get it over with. Would birthing a child be so terrible? Especially if it bought her freedom? Still, for whatever reasons, she continued to resist.

The visits continued without fail for more than ten years. In an attempt to retain her sanity, she occasionally spoke to Lucius, but cautiously and without warmth. The general remained as kind and forthcoming as ever, and he apologized profusely whenever she gave him the opportunity. It was obvious he was attracted to her. No, not attracted—infatuated.

When the idea first arose in her mind, Laylah was lying in bed in the late afternoon. She scolded herself for taking so long to think of it. How could she have remained blind to something so obvious? Just as her brother was slowly and slyly attempting to seduce her, she could play the same game. With Lucius.

It made sense in so many ways. The emergence of Mala as a new force in Avici had effectively shoved the general aside. The Chain Man now commanded the great army that had once belonged solely to Lucius. Invictus clearly had a new favorite pet.

Laylah had watched Mala interact with Lucius. The ruined snow giant showed the firstborn little respect, ordering him around as cruelly as any subordinate. Wouldn’t this make Lucius less loyal to Invictus and more susceptible to her charms?

What if she could seduce him? Not into bed, but into obsession. She could slowly and slyly draw him to her side. Eventually he would do whatever pleased her, even if it meant risking his position—and his life—by betraying his king. Lucius was not as powerful as he used to be, but he still was formidable. If anyone had the means to help her escape, the firstborn did.

For the rest of the afternoon, Laylah couldn’t sleep. She sat at her desk and wrote a brief note:

Dear Lucius:

Would you meet me by the swing at midnight? This time of year, the nights are so lovely. And the moon will be full. You know how much I love the Ripe Corn Moon.

There are some things I wish to say. I will bring Bhacca to avoid any appearance of impropriety.

Warmly, Laylah

She folded the note, sealed it with a crescent moon insignia, and summoned Bhacca to her bedchamber. Laylah’s request discomforted the mistress of the robes.

“The Chain Man watches everyone. If a person so much as belches, Mala reports it to the king. If he or one of his spies were to see me pass a note to Lucius, we’d all be in trouble.”

“That’s why you’ll be extra careful,” Laylah said. “Besides, there’s nothing
bad
in the note. I’m only asking him to meet me tonight so that we can converse. I even told him that you’ll be with me. You and I often stroll the grounds late at night. General Lucius does, as well.”

“What if the general shows this to the king?”

“He won’t. I don’t have much experience with men, I admit. But I think I have enough to know he won’t betray us in that way. At the least, he’ll want to hear what I have to say first. Wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes. But
 . . .
”

“Trust me, then, as I trust you. Nothing will be spoken tonight that will cause any harm. After all these long years, I just want to clear the air with a former friend.”

Bhacca acquiesced. “Very well, my Queen. You’ve always treated me with respect, so I’ll do as you ask. If not for you, I wouldn’t be mistress of the robes.”

That night, Laylah sensed Lucius’ approach long before he arrived at the sycamore. She sat on the swing, her silky blond hair dangling past her waist. She wore a crimson dress that was slit to expose her muscular calves, thin ankles and bare feet. Lucius’ cheeks became flushed, and sweat formed on his brow, but he tried to act nonchalant.

“My Queen,” he said, nodding to Laylah. “And mistress.” Another nod, to Bhacca. “It’s my pleasure to join you on such a fine summer eve. You wish to speak with me?”

“I do
 . . .
are others about?”

“Others?”

“What I have to say is intended for your ears only.”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed. Then his head swiveled, but so slowly as to be imperceptible. “I know of no one nearby,” he whispered. “But I don’t have the stomach for such intrigue.”

Laylah laughed. “I’m just joking, Lucius. My brother and Mala could stand among us, and no harm would occur.”

Lucius looked relieved. “Well then, please speak your mind.”

“Many years have passed since my
 . . .
anger
 . . .
damaged our friendship. Too many years, to be honest. I miss our strolls—and our long conversations. I wish to learn more about Avici. It has grown so huge. And there’s so much else I would know. Does a massive wall now encircle Avici and Kilesa? And what about
 . . .
”

This time, it was Lucius’ turn to laugh. “Laylah
 . . .
Laylah! One thing at a time. Renewing our friendship would be my fondest dream. I only hope that, this time, I can manage to keep it.”

“So do I,” Bhacca said. “The queen is in much better spirits when you’re around.”

They all laughed.

The following evening Invictus did not appear at her doorway. In some ways this amused Laylah. It was obvious Lucius had reported their meeting to her brother, and the sorcerer had decided to lay low to see what might develop. This lasted for several blessed months. Meanwhile, Laylah and Lucius strolled each evening—with Bhacca in attendance. A miniature army of Invictus’ minions watched them from a distance. The dracools flew especially high, and on dark nights they were impossible to detect. But when the moon was aglow, Laylah could see black specks circling above. Sometimes soldiers were near. Or white-robed spies posing as civilians. She and the general kept their distance, physically, and their conversations purposefully bland.

However, when Laylah felt the moment was right, she would give Lucius the kind of look that caused his cheeks to redden again.

“You’re a nice man,” she said on a rare night when Bhacca had not joined them.

His expression grew anxious—almost paranoid.

But she added quickly: “My brother is so fortunate to have you as his friend.”

He relaxed, somewhat.

“And I’m fortunate to be able to serve such a great king,” he said loudly.

For a moment, Laylah felt her familiar nausea.

“What makes you happy makes me happy,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond, but the muscles in his face crumbled. The next words he spoke came as softly as a wisp of breeze. “Izumo can be trusted.” And then he turned and started back toward the tower. “It grows late, my Queen,” he said loudly.

“Feel free to depart,” Laylah said. “I’ll remain here and enjoy this lovely night from the hilltop. The moon is so near. Maybe tonight I’ll be able to touch it. Until we meet again
 . . .
”

“Indeed.”