Dream of a City of Ruin: Dreams of QaiMaj Book II

Chapter 3: Etchings: Medoc

Steam swirled on the surface of the baths with an ethereal motion, filling Medoc's lungs with a pleasantly warm and heavy feeling. He leaned back on the stone ledge and breathed deep. The water felt good, and even better was the feeling of success. He had gotten the Icers to cooperate, the lake was clean, the baths were restored to their normal conditions. Chraun was at peace.

Medoc was not exactly happy, but he was content. He did not enjoy ruling; it carried all the responsibilities of being a General but none of the camaraderie. Instead of being surrounded by loyal officers he was surrounded by sycophantic Nobles who were all waiting for him to show a single weakness before they attacked and claimed the throne for themselves. Wilmina was all set for auctioning off their daughters to the highest bidding houses, when he'd wanted to marry them to good, conservative officers who would keep them safe and safely out of politics. Out of the question for princesses, Mina said. Worse, Bolv was always pressing her agenda, which was increasingly for him to break the Treaty and attack Iskalon again. Couldn't the woman see what a boon peace was for both Kingdoms? He should send her to lead the attack if she wanted it so badly; let her experience the horrors of war first hand.

Sycophants surrounded him here in the Baths, Nobles of lesser houses trying to gain his favor. Beautiful Flame women outnumbered men five to one in his crowded pool, each one preening and stretching. Medoc heard an older Noblewoman make a comment about the new King needing a second wife to provide him with sons, as the first did so well with daughters. It was not the first time he'd heard such a thing since gaining the throne. Their chatter drowned out the tanka drums and the peaceful dripping of the water and threatened to drive Medoc as mad as Dynat had been.

No, Medoc was not happy by any measure, but he was pleased that Chraun had stabilized. The Civil War of his ascension had ended with fewer casualties than expected, and for that he had to thank Bolv and her work turning the Nobles in his favor. He could almost feel pride in his Kingdom. Almost.

You are horrible people. You should all die for what you've done. The words of the pretty, dark Icer haunted him at the oddest moments. Thinking of her always made him feel strange, as if he were a youth again, full of passion. It was exhausting.

Medoc had considered sending her a plate, trying to explain that all of Chraun was not to be judged by the actions of one mad King. But the consequences were too great, should such a plate fall into the wrong hands . . . Bad enough that Luten Tejusi, the only Officer in Chraun who knew Medoc's secret, had not been able to find any trace of the Icer Queen or Dynat. Medoc had to believe that they had met their fate in the bellies of wild slink. They would have shown up in either Kingdom, otherwise.

The water rippled with motion as a newcomer entered the bath. Medoc's mood fell further when he saw it was Bolv, her hair bound up in a net of firedrops. Was it his imagination, or had she gained weight since the war? She smiled widely around the pool as her Semija helped her down the steps. The reactions of the Nobles varied. The younger ones, especially the women, greeted her with enthusiasm. She had become somewhat of a hero to them, like a Kinyara out of legend. The Survivor, some were calling her. The older Nobles varied between indifference and outright scorn. Some turned their heads, one couple left the bath, and a decrepit old woman actually crossed her wrists over her heart in the sign against evil, implying that Bolv was a ghost.

If she was distressed by the mixed reaction, Bolv did not let it show. She greeted her supporters with the aplomb of one who'd been playing politics her whole life. Irritated though he was by her, Medoc could not help but admire her skills as she made her way to his side.

"Greetings, my King." She bowed as low as the water would allow and sat beside him, not on one of the lower benches with the other Nobles. She smiled down benignly, looking the very picture of a Queen.