CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“THIS IS YOUR FREEDOM, THIS IS YOUR LIFE”

Later that afternoon the royal family gathered for a private meeting at the house of Dowager Queen Brisquayne in Kórynthály. In addition to the hostess, also present were Queen Polyxena, Hereditary Prince Arkády and his wife, Princess Dúra, Princess Arrhiána, Prince Zakháry, Prince Kiríll, Prince Andruin, Princess Sachette, and Queen Ez­zölla, as well as King Kipriyán.

The monarch had been drugged several times during the night, with the stronger “szósz” being reapplied in the morning; his hands were physically restrained in front of him with leather ties. He looked very tired and weathered, and sat slumped in an old, overstuffed chair, his head hanging down.

“We must determine what to do,” Prince Arkády began. “I’ve already spoken to the patriarch, and the church will support whatever decision we make. We must decide today, and whatever we do, it must be announced and promulgated at a meeting of the Royal Council which I’ve called for tomorrow morning.

“First, let me summarize what we have already ac­complished,” he continued. “We have freed three members of our family from the dungeon, together with numerous high lords and others who had been sequestered there over the last six months and beyond. We cannot allow them to be reimprisoned.

“Secondly,” he noted, “we have taken the king by force after he tried to kill me. All of us were involved in this action except Dúra and Zölla and Granny. We have drugged the king and held him captive against his will. So long as he remains king, these are crimes of high treason against the state.

“Thirdly,” the prince added, “we have de facto re­stored the patriarch to his lawfully elected position. We cannot undo this.

“Finally,” he summarized, “we have done these things in contravention of the king’s will because we be­lieve he is no longer fit to rule. Due to the import of these events and their logical consequences, I must ask each of you to speak in turn and give your opinion.

“Mother?” he said, turning to Polyxena.

The queen rubbed her eyes, and then looked up at her eldest son.

“My children,” she stated, “I believe your father is ill, and that he will not recover his balance. Therefore, I think Arkásha must replace him as king immediately.”

“I concur,” replied Arrhiána. “I don’t like having to take this step, but I see no other choice before us if Kórynthia is to survive.”

“I too agree,” Zakháry added, “but only if that damn’d Melanthrix goes as well.”

“I’m with Zack,” Kiríll noted.

Queen Brisquayne now spoke up. “Things have gone too far to turn back. The people are tired of war and privation. The women are clamoring for their lost hus­bands, sons, and fathers. They will not support another such expedition.”

“I cannot allow my little Ari to be taken away from me,” Dúra cried. “Any man who would do something like that to his own grandson does not deserve to be king.”

“Papá has lost his way,” Sachette indicated. “If he cannot govern himself, how can he govern a nation?”

Then it was Andruin’s turn. “I wasn’t here to see what’s been happening, but I know what the clergy is say­ing. To insult and degrade the holy patriarch is a sin against both God and the church. It also sets a dangerous precedent if allowed to stand. Sorry, Papá,” he murmured.

Finally, the new Queen Ezzölla had her say. “I don’t know,” she said. “I hate to see such actions taken against any lawful monarch. At the same time, there have been terrible abuses reported to me. I just don’t know.”

“Father, do you wish to speak?” Arkády inquired.

The king lifted his head to look at them, betrayal written in his eyes.

“You’ve already made your decision,” he spat, “so why should I bother? Thirty-two years ago I was girded with the sword at Ióv. The great Tighris himself gave me the power to rule Kórynthia, and rule it I have, saving it from the barbarian hordes, leading it back from devasta­tion, rebuilding the land, and bringing it prosperity. Now you want to kill me as my reward. Well, Arkásha, there’s no doubt that you finally have the ultimate power within your grasp. So do it and be damned, all of you!”

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, be­fore Prince Arkády spoke again.

“Very well,” he said, “we’ve given our separate opinions, and we have all agreed, all but one, that King Kipriyán is unfit to rule. So who do we replace him with?”

“You must become king, brother,” Arrhiána replied.

“What about a regency?” Kiríll interjected.

“A regency implies that the occupant of the throne will someday return to it,” Arrhiána indicated, “and I don’t think that’s feasible here.”

“Then what do we do with Papá?” Zakháry in­quired. “I won’t agree to having him tried.”

“We could give him some special title,” Arkády stated, “and an estate nearby as an honorable retire­ment.”

“That would only work,” Arrhiána noted, “if the place was closely guarded and we controlled the guards.”

“Agreed,” the prince said. “Mother, what do you think?”

Polyxena’s face was lined from the strain of the last few days.

“That would be acceptable to me,” she agreed. “I would, of course, join your father in retirement.”

“Pah!” Kipriyán boomed. “You go on talking about me in the third person, as if I’m not even sitting here. Why don’t you just kill me and be done with it!”

“Because, father,” Arkády responded, “I don’t want to do to you what you obviously intended to do to me and mine. That’s the basic difference between us. I’ll give you a simple choice, and I’ll offer it to you only once. Agree to renounce the throne unconditionally and irrevocably, or face attainder for treason against the state. You have until the hour of apodeipnon to make your decision.”

“Please, Kipriyán!” his wife pleaded. “We still have our dignity. We still have each other. Please choose life.”

The king looked around the room like a trapped animal, his eyes darting here and there, his arms struggling to free themselves from the leather bonds. Finally, he slumped again in his chair.

“Damn you all,” he uttered. “Damn you to Hell, Arkády, for doing this to me. After all I gave you....”

Then the king sighed very heavily, and looked over at the queen. “Very well, I will sign the document. Bring it to me by supper.”

Prince Arkády let his breath out, his tension finally easing. He nodded to Arrhiána, who pulled out a sheaf of parchment.

“I have it here, father,” she indicated, holding the scroll out to him. “This is your freedom, sire. This is your life.”

Brisquayne brought pen and ink. King Kipriyán didn’t even bother to read the document, but initialed it with his usual flourish. Brisquayne sanded it quickly, and passed it back to Arrhiána, who also examined it.

Then the entire family signed the parchment one by one, carefully putting their names below the king’s as wit­nesses to the deed.

Finally, it was done.

“I am truly sorry, father,” Arkády stated, “that we had to do this to you. This is for the better, even if you don’t understand that fact now. You and mother will re­main our guests here for several days, until we make the ap­propriate arrangements.”

Then he stood at formal attention, the others fol­lowing suit.

“All hail, King Kipriyán!” he intoned, thumping his breast with his right hand.

“All hail, King Kipriyán!” came the muted replies.

Then Hereditary Prince Arkády bowed deeply to his mother and father, and left the room, being followed, one by one, by each of the royal princes and princesses of the Kingdom of Kórynthia.

A new era had begun.