The Tyrant's Queen

40: to deserve

"These are all your men, Your Majesty?" Ikan asked impassively, inspecting the training soldiers.

Tearing his eyes away from the handkerchieves, Lucien nodded. "Yes."

"Five hundred?"

"Five hundred."

"Where did you get them?"

"Some from slave merchants and fighting rings. Some recruited from the country. Common men, some with prior experience, some without. I promised them better pay and treatment than before. They've been trained."

"Do you think they're good?"

"They're decent. Will have to be better."

"Why are you showing these to me?"

"Because you only befriend the strong, General." Strangely enough, Lucien didn't feel any bitterness saying these words.

"Other than holding a possible scandal over your head, I am showing you I can be your strong ally. That you do not lose out."

"So you're not a useless drunkard and puppet king."

Blunt speech even in the presence of a high priest or king, as always. Lucien smiled faintly. "I hope not."

Ikan's gaze shifted to Lucien's cane, and his right leg. "So is this real? Your accent, stupidity and drunkenness were all acts."

"Completely crushed, rest assured," Lucien winced, tapping his leg with the cane.

"What happened, sire?"

"Well. It was...her very literal way of making me to kneel before her."

Ikan only nodded, mutely.

Seeing his reaction, Lucien remembered he'd imagined this scene over and over again- the general asking what had happened to his crushed leg, and then only placidly responding something along the lines of "I see".

Lucien had looked forward to seeing this phlegmatic stance Ikan took towards everything in life.

And he'd looked forward to seeing Ikan himself. He'd missed this brutally level-headed man.

Ikan's interrogation was far from over. "You might not be incapacitated, but you still do drink. And smoke. I heard, copiously and daily."

"Yes. I will not live long, no doubt," Lucien waved his cane dismissively. "But have no concern, General. I will produce an heir."

The general's hair used to only have little specks of grey. Now, little of his short hair had red. The wrinkles across his forehead and around his eyes had become deeper, too.

"The greatest obstacle you have is High Priest Yhun. How will you remove him from his position?

"He has many allies in Aesna and in Shahark, in court and outside the court. He is a great rock protected by deep roots of an ancient tree."

"Exactly how one would remove that rock, General. One crack at a time. The first crack I will create, is with his qualification as priest." Lucien turned away from Ikan's wrinkles and weather-beaten face, to the training soldiers.

"You have something on him," Ikan realized. "Is it verified truth?"

"Priests cannot have relationships with women."

Ikan was silent, for a long time. Finally, he spoke. "Is Her Majesty his biological daughter?"

As always. Ikan was frighteningly proficient at putting the two and two together. Smiling wryly, Lucien pulled out his cigar, and lit it on a wall-mounted candle.