circumstances.”
Azarak shrugged. “It seemed that way when we concocted this scheme. Now… I could have pardoned her, given her another chance. Divorced her quietly and sent her away.”
“We discussed those options and rejected them for simple, practical reasons. If it had only been adultery… but the treason made her actions unpardonable. Depending how much information made it into the possession of King Durth, we may not have seen the worst of the damage.”
“Is Ravensforth dead?”
“I’m awaiting confirmation, but the men I sent are reliable. You can be assured that, come morning, all will be as it was planned.”
“And now?”
“Now we let it be known that the queen died of an unexpected illness caused by her pregnancy. We go through the usual process of a royal funeral. The healers can examine the body - they won’t find anything. The poison can’t be detected; that’s why it’s the best, and they won’t be looking for it, at any rate. As far as anyone is concerned, you and she made love last night then curled up in each other’s arms to sleep. When you awoke, she wasn’t breathing so you summoned me. No one will question you. They know you adored her.”
“It’s too bad the feeling wasn’t mutual.”
Toranim looked at his friend and liege with sympathy. He knew what it was like to be cuckolded. But that had been many years ago and he didn’t like to think of it, nor of the woman who had made it impossible for him to love or trust one of her sex again. “I don’t think your marriage was a sham, at least not at the start. I remember watching the two of you together. When you courted her, I believe she was as infatuated with you as you were with her. But the life of a queen isn’t an easy one, with you absent for such long stretches. Who knows how it started? In the end, all that matters is that it did start and she couldn’t stop it before it became more than a way to relieve lonely nights.”
“You make it sound like it’s my fault.”
“No, Sire. A queen, like a king, is bound first by duty. She may have said the words and sworn the oath, but she proved to be false. She betrayed not only you but herself, her oath, and her people. You acted as duty required. She didn’t. None of this is your fault.”
“This won’t be easy to get past. Giving her that drink, lying there listening to her last labored breaths. Wanting to wake her and explain to her, to apologize…The headsman’s ax might have been easier.”
“You know as well as I do that wouldn’t have been the case. Her screams for mercy would have haunted your nights for the rest of your life. You’ll overcome this, Your Majesty. It may not seem that way now, but time will harden your resolve. I know this to be true. I wouldn’t serve a lesser man.”
“I guess we’ll both find out if that faith is well placed.”
“I don’t doubt it, Sire. Now, let’s begin the unpleasant process of announcing the queen’s tragic and untimely passing.”
* * *
The next week was a blur for Azarak. Publicly, he did all that was required of a grieving king with respect to his wife’s funeral and burial. He observed the expected 24 hour vigil by her corpse as it lay in state the day before she was consigned to the king’s crypt and made a touching speech that perhaps half the city turned out to hear. Privately, the king wrestled with his guilt. However often he reminded himself that it was justice, some small part of his soul refused to accept that. He thanked the gods for the sure, stable presence of Toranim, who leant him strength during those trying days.
The official mourning period lasted a fortnight. During that time, all audiences were canceled, the bells in the city’s temple tolled every hour, and the market was closed. Within the palace, activity gradually returned to normal with the queen’s personal staff being reassigned to other duties.
Some days after the funeral, Azarak and Toranim were seated in the
Learning to Kill: Stories