Sabina did not come.
Tradition required the memorial fire to burn all night. Perhaps it was the flickering light, but the faces of the brothers seated around it looked strangely grave. From his old nurse, Laban heard that the family’s standing was not what it had been. There were several reasons, but above all, it was widely rumored that the king hated Sabina.
Laban only shrugged. Unless the king was a fool, he could hardly fail to guess who had wanted to kill his child.
At about two in the morning, Laban slipped out of the mansion without saying goodbye. After what had happened the day before, he judged that his brothers would not find it strange if he left without a word.
Before he had gone far, he sensed someone following. He had intended to leave through the Donkey Gate, but changed course toward the Full Moon Gate. His rank alone would be enough to have the pursuers thrown into prison there.
But as he neared the gate, something unexpected happened. The pursuers called out to stop him.
“Laban, son of Ekenos!”
Laban checked the sword at his waist, gripped the reins tightly, and turned. Two horses rushed out of the darkness and blocked him on either side. He kicked his horse’s flanks. If only he could reach the gate.
In an instant, the torches drew near. But just as the imposing gate loomed before him, he doubted his eyes. Some twenty soldiers stood with their weapons drawn. When he charged forward, they cut off his retreat.
Surrounded, Laban reached for his sword, then raised his voice instead.
“What do you think you’re doing? Do you know who I am?”
“Of course we do. You are Lord Herodion’s youngest brother, are you not?”
The man standing squarely before the gate tapped a long pipe against one hand and smiled. Livolla. Laban felt something gather in his chest like a stone.
“So you know me. Are you saying I cannot pass through that gate?”
“You are certainly entitled to do so, but someone is eagerly awaiting you tonight. Between close kin, one cannot be too discourteous.”
Laban spat sharply on the ground.
“If it’s truly close kin, surely saying they’d like to see me is enough?”
“And you must be free to refuse, of course. But though great persons may wish for no more than a pleasant conversation, for humble men like us the wish becomes a duty. What can we do?”
Livolla jerked his chin. Soldiers rushed forward and dragged Laban from his horse. A black sack was pulled over his head, his hands were tied behind his back, and he was put into a waiting palanquin.
When it began to move, Laban tried to judge its direction. He did not think they would take him outside the city. Nor were they going to the palace. Slowly retracing the roads in his mind, he thought of a place. As they began climbing a slope, he became certain.
There could be no doubt.
The palanquin stopped. He still could not see, but the moment he was led through the familiar entrance and up the steps was enough. When he reached a room with cool air upon his skin, a faint sneer crossed his face.
So she had summoned him here.
“Untie him.”
His hands were freed and the sack removed. Laban shook his head once and looked ahead. There were two torches. Beneath them stood Sabina, dressed only in a thin tunic and a cloak.
Long ago, on Ekenos’s estate, she had run barefoot over dark earth sown with corn. People had said she looked like the young goddess Perdita. Had that been an age of myth, praise like that would soon have brought a goddess’s jealousy upon her, turning her into a bird or an insect. But Sabina had grown unhindered into a voluptuous woman and at last risen to the queen’s place. Was the goddess merciful? Had she blessed Sabina? Perhaps.
Of all the gods, Perdita looked the youngest, yet people called her Merciful Perdita. But Perdita did not bear children. Among all the blessings she bestowed, childbirth and fertility alone were absent. For she was a girl forever.
The soldiers who had brought Laban surrounded him, ready to attack at any moment. They had disguised themselves as ordinary soldiers, but he could now see that all were elite guards of the royal family. Looking at Livolla behind them, Laban gave a short laugh.
“You need an audience to meet your kin?”
“We’re merely taking precautions.”
“Are you? Then who takes precautions for your safety? Her Majesty?”
“To trust Her Majesty’s mercy rather than a man in peril… I seem to have heard that before. In the rain. I had both arms then.”
Laban frowned, trying to understand what he meant. Sabina spoke.
“Withdraw, all of you. I wish to speak alone with my brother after so long.”
Livolla bowed and led the soldiers out. They had only gone outside. They would be guarding the surroundings closely. At the slightest sign of trouble, they would rush in. Laban could not escape them.
“It’s been three years.”
“Three years, Sister.”
“That sounds better than ‘Your Majesty.’”
“It seems no one who calls you ‘Your Majesty’ has ever truly cared for you.”
Sabina laughed.
“Indeed? Roandros doesn’t even call me that.”
“His Majesty never truly cares for any woman.”
“Any woman. That’s very close to the truth.”
Sabina moved her shoulders, opened her cloak, and let it fall to the floor.
“So did you care for her in his place?”
For an instant, Laban almost let himself be drawn in. He held his breath, then deliberately pretended not to understand.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t know you wanted to bring up what happened then.”
“What happened? When you betrayed me?”
“Well, I don’t wish to speak of it all over again, but if we must argue about it, weren’t you the one who betrayed me?”
“I had no choice. Father had decided it. Do you think I could have refused?”
Laban gave a mocking smile. This was no time to smile. If he angered Sabina, the conversation would return to the subject she had wanted from the start. He had to get away from it. They must speak of twelve years ago, not three.
“Ah. I see. I didn’t know. So that’s why you looked so happy in your palanquin on the day of the royal wedding. Because you had already given up, telling yourself you couldn’t refuse?”
“Why did you watch? Surely you, of all people, shouldn’t have wanted to see it?”
“Ha. You might as well have wished me dead.”
“I never wished for that. I thought you wouldn’t change. That you would remain as you had sworn.”
Laban closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. Sabina was still watching him, her eyes bright. The rumors that her beauty had faded lately were false. But now he knew what lay within that beauty. Boundless arrogance, demanding that everyone move for her sake. How many people had she trampled beneath it?
Then Sabina suddenly approached and pressed her lips to his. Perhaps he ought to have accepted that kiss. But the revulsion carved deep into his heart stiffened his mouth.
Sabina soon drew away, a subtle smile around her lips. Laban shook his head and spoke.
“So you left because you coveted the place of mother to all the people, and thought your brother would wait for you forever?”
Discover more from Lilly Translations
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.