The Son Of The King – Chapter III
"A Letter to Therem Harth rem ir Estraven"
My dearest Estraven:
I write you this letter to-day for numerous reasons. Unthinkingly, and with much ignorance, I neglected to take serious your council and kept my audience with the king. Your warnings to me were not only accurate, but completely trustworthy. The man is, for all intents and purposes, insane. His whole demeanour, his manner of speech, the way he postures, even the way he shifts his body weight all confer that he is demented in some malignant way. It's quite unlike anything I have ever seen.
He interrogated me to the fullest extent, answering my questions with more questions of his own, playing shifgrethor with me for the pleasure of the court than being serious with me. Mind you he had nothing but the most vitriolic things to say concerning the matter of you. He regarded me simply as your "tool," and this being the case warranted me no punishment, only his deepest sympathy and pity on my part. I daresay, however, that I have been punished – punished from the moment I put foot to ground on this planet.
He imparted his mad logic to me: do not trust a soul, Mr. Ai! Nonetheless, more the fool was I since I did not trust you! Of course, Lord Tibe was close at hand beside his king, listening in silence to Argaven as he rambled on about lies and deception, about how you had manipulated him. Undoubtedly, this itself is only a manipulation on Tibe's part.
This, however, is not the only reason why I write to you. Although you are much estranged from the court, I believe that you deserve to hear what is transpiring in your absence.
The king dismissed me, obviously disinterested in the future of his country, instead consumed by his own madness and megalomaniac tendencies. There is very little I can accomplish in the way of persuasion. As fickle as he is, he hangs on Tibe's every word, just as he must have hung on yours once upon a time, and it is Tibe that rules in Ehrenrang now. Tibe, as I'm sure you are already aware, abhors me almost as much as he despises you, but instead of committing me to death or exile, as he would if he thought he could, he has "hung me out to dry" so to speak.
I have been demoted from welcomed guest to a pariah of sorts. Tibe has risen the war hoop of "pervert" because of my permanent kemmer, which for some reason, seems illogical and twisted in Gethenian society. I had come to this planet alone in the hopes of showing your king the future of the entire universe, that I was not a threat but merely Genly Ai, a messenger. They will not acknowledge the future I speak of, but at least I am not considered to be a threat. Once bright spot – I am still free to wander the palace as I see fit.
And now I must take a moment to speak sincerely with you about Lord Tibe. This leads me to the real intent behind my letter. I apologise for assuming that you were as backhanded, devious, and intrinsically corrupt as I previously assumed. You are, if there ever was a truer, patriot. Lord Tibe, on the other hand, loves none but himself and he makes that evident on every occasion. Even as I scribble this letter, he is plotting some scheme, a scheme which I have just now discovered. I feel compelled to relate it to you:
It was a particularly cold evening. I have never been accustomed to this climate. It is completely foreign to me. Even fire does not warm me here. I awoke in my bed, covered in furs and blankets, but still chilled to the bones. I slid off the bed and wrapped the fur around my body, leaving the room. I had hardly made it three feet down the hallway when I heard an exhausted groaning. I followed the sound into a remote, secluded area of the palace.
It was Moren, the one to whom the king had pledged kemmering. He had been wrapped in draperies, bound by the hands and feet, gagged and knocked out into a semi-unconscious state. Only now had he started to come to. I lifted him up off the floor where he lay. He same into my arms, still unable to control his body, floating in and out of reality. I asked him saying, "My dear sir, whatever happened to you?" He muttered something I could not make out, tossing his head to and fro in the cradle of my arms.
"Ti – ti – ," he stuttered, his voice trailing off into the silence. I knew it must have been the work of some goons acting on Tibe's insistence. May I inform you that I was not shocked by this thing he had dome. I laid the man on a bed, freeing him from his bondage. It would still take come while before he would fully recover. I left the room.
If I had been conscious of the squeaking of my boots as I stood before the king, I was conscious of my bare feet and their silence on the stone floor. I made my way into the kitchens, wading through the pitch blackness of the palace hallways. Is this why Gethenian eyes glow orange? Does it help you find you way?
I never knew how large the palace kitchens could be. It took me almost an hour to feel my way around the place to find the beer vat, but once I had found it I felt well rewarded. No sooner had I laid hand to spigot, than I felt an even larger hand than my own grab mine. He carried a torch. I recognised his face immediately – Lord Tibe!
He stood there beside me, bare-chested from the waist up, wearing only tan breeches and barefoot like myself. His eyes were glowing orange like the dying embers of a fire. As I looked at him I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on knife's edge. The sensation was so intense it could have neurologically registered as painful. He pushed his face so close to mine that I could feel he warm breath against my skin. It was surprisingly sweet.
He flicked a switch and the room was flooded with light. "Allow me," he proffered, removing my hand from the spigot. I seated myself at the galley table. Tibe sat down beside me, pushing a mug of hot beer into my hand.
"It's a little late for you to be abroad, Mr Ai. Wouldn't you agree?" he asked, sardonically. I feigned naïveté.
"I was thirst, Lord. Not to mention, unreasonably cold."
"Ah, yes! I forget that you get cold easily. Is it much warmer on your planet?"
"Yes, Terra is much warmer," I told him, sipping from my mug. The beer had a warming sensation that took instant effect on me. He drew himself closer.
"Mr Ai, it is a shame that we must meet like this – when I am in kemmer," he said, stretching out his hand. He traced my stubbly upper lip with his thumb, cradling my chin in the palm of his hand. I pulled away. He was no longer the malevolent driving force of Argaven. He was in lust and weakened! This raised much interest on my part. If he had been curious as to my agenda, I was more than interested in his. He could only be up to no good, even at his seemingly weakest moments. Why was the prime minister of Gethen stalking the hallways of the palace at night almost naked? An enigma wrapped in a conundrum.
It was only until some time after that I was able to take these bits and pieces of knowledge I had and put them together. Argaven was pregnant.