Lions of Men

Chapter 15

Shamarah awoke the morning after the festival in a testy mood. Still stewing over the events of the night before, she wasn't in the mood to exchange pleasantries. Rashnee had done it again. Ever the bitter one, the unpredictable charismatic king gave Rakurih's room to one of his many special guests and had her and her daughter, Tesyonah removed from the palace.

"Did not I heed to thy request to allow "your" daughter to lodge hither for the duration of the festival?" Rashnee said politely when Shamarah protested.

Shamarah narrowed her eyes and gazed at her husband. "Well yes, but-

-"Well the festivities are now at an end, and I am no longer obligated to provide shelter to ungrateful children. Rakurih is banished from Levanorah. Or would you rather that your king loses face before the council by breaking his own order?"

"The gods forbid you choose the well-being of your daughter over the admiration Theocales and his puppets."

"Get out of my face, you winch," Rashnee growled.

"With pleasure. I'll leave you to your guests."

With that, Shamarah too departed from the palace and took Rakurih to an expensive inn just outside the city.

She hadn't slept five hours when a knock on her door from one of her guards startled her awake. The guard gave her a letter from the innkeeper, which had the king's seal on it. The message had summoned all members of the fellowship for an emergency meeting. Shamarah was astonished that her presence was requested, as she was not yet a member of the council. Rashnee was apparently confident that the threats he made toward her several days before had the desired effect and that she would eventually rejoin the royal council, but this move was audacious.

She became antsy as she awaited the arrival of her carriage in the wee hours of the morning, which seemed an eternity. Momentarily, she regretted not spending the night before at the palace. When her carriage finally came into view, Tesyonah appeared at the door. Patently drunk with sleep, the thirteen-year-old stumbled out to her grandmother and draped her arms around her. Nostalgia washed over Shamarah. Rakurih often did this as a child when her mother had to leave the palace on business.

"What are you doing out of bed little love?" the queen said soothingly. "There's barely enough light out."

"We always rise with the sun in Shirobethniah," Tesyonah said, her disheveled hair covering her eyes. Shamarah chuckled softly and rubbed her granddaughter on her back. With one hug, Tesyonah had unknowingly lifted her spirit. She looked up and caught Rakurih peering out the second window.

"I didn't want to wake you," she whispered.

"You didn't," Rakurih said. "Nothing gets past my Tesyonah, though."

Shamarah smiled. "I see. I said the same thing about you when you were her age."

"Where goeth ye at this hour?" Tesyonah said. "You said we were going shopping today."

"I have to go to the palace on business. But once I finish, I promise I'm all yours. When I return, I'm going to take you to the finest shops, and you can pick out the prettiest dress you see. What do you think of that?"

Tesyonah sheepishly chuckled. "Yes."

"And then when everyone sees you in that beautiful dress, they'll say that you are the most fetching damsel in all of Laynemarah. And you'll smile and wave and wave..."

She took Tesyonah's arm in hers, and they began skipping around and waving. Tesyonah giggled loudly. Shamarah caught a glimpse of her daughter glaring at her. She had longed told the queen of her fear of Tesyonah falling into the trap of the feministic glamor of Levanorah.