The howling of the storm outside roused Gyrl from his sleep. He huddled under the warm, soft zolu-hide robe and decided it would be impossible to leave the hut to check the snares that morning. There was no pressing need to do so, for the thin rope traps had yielded plenty of fresh meat for the pot and pelts to work into robes, garments and footwear. The woodpile in the lee of the lean-to was well stocked, his having noticed the ominous clouds brewing two days earlier. He had even discovered a stand of chalu bushes on one of his wanderings and had harvested a healthy pouchful of leaves with which to make cha.

Gradually, the thin skins covering the one window began to let in the dim light of the dawn, and Gyrl roused himself and began to stoke the fire from the banked embers. Within minutes, the flames began once more to lick at the kindling, and he tossed larger pieces into the fire to warm the hut and start the melted snow-water boiling for fresh cha. With a stone mug of the steaming brew on the table, he set the kettle of dark broth back on the flames to heat. As the broth began to simmer, the savory aroma permeated every corner of the hut.

As was his custom of late, Gyrl took a mug of cha he had cooled slightly to the bedside of his King and sat down to gently spoon some of the liquid into his semiconscious friend. This time, however, his lifting the old man's head from the pallet was rewarded by Hariki's eyes opening. Gyrl then noticed that the head and neck he was touching no longer felt as feverish as before. Hariki was groggy, but otherwise in control of himself again.

"H...how long?" the old King's voice whispered dryly, cracking from disuse.

Gyrl held the mug to Hariki's lips so the old man could sip the warm cha. "You've been feverish for two weeks now. Thank the One you're finally recovering!"

Hariki shifted slowly on his pallet and made as if to sit up. "Chan's bones and demon pikes! I'm as weak as a baby!" he croaked peevishly.

"I'm not surprised," Gyrl commented as he set the mug on the floor next to Hariki's bed. "Now you just lay there quietly," he said, rising to his feet, "and let me bring you some broth."

Hariki lay back patiently and watched as Gyrl took a stone bowl from the low table near the hearth and doled some broth from the steaming kettle. "I've been having some of the strangest dreams, Gyrl. You just can't imagine."

"Oh, yes I can," Gyrl replied, returning to his seat near the bed. "You fought some of your fights other than just in your mind, old friend." He began spooning some of the broth for Hariki, who shook his head after the third sip.

"No, you don't understand. These dreams were about my grandson..."

"Now I know you were just dreaming," Gyrl chided gently, forcing Hariki to take another sip. "You don't have a grandson, at least, none you can own. Karinna managed to see to that." He smiled wryly at the memory of his daughter. "She never let Chlin touch her, ever."

"Nevertheless, I had a grandson in my dreams," Hariki sputtered around the spoon in his mouth. "He was fine and strong, and seemed to be my heir acknowledged. Every time I saw him, he would ask me questions about ruling and managing a kingdom - something Chlin never bothered to do when he was younger." Hariki smiled at the memory of his dream. "Some of the things he asked were questions even I hadn't thought about things I suppose I could have done differently myself."

"I wish it had been other than just a dream," Gyrl sighed as he continued to feed Hariki.

"I know," the old King admitted reluctantly. "Wishful thinking on my part, no doubt. If only I could..."

In silence, Gyrl finished feeding the broth to the man in the bed and helping him drink the lukewarm cha. Hariki's face was gaunt from his long illness; but the food had helped bring some color back into his cheeks, and his eyes were clear and serene although sad. With the meal finished, Gyrl set the dishes aside and turned back. "How does the arm feel?"

Hariki shrugged, and Gyrl saw that only one shoulder moved. "I don't feel it paining me at all. It is healed?"

"As well as it could be without a Healer's aid," Gyrl sighed as he began loosening the bandages to clean the wound. Hariki grimaced as the last, yellowed wrapping came loose of the scabbed area.

Gyrl cleaned some of the clear yellow ooze away with the soiled bandage before tossing it in a heap by the hearth. "Looks as if most of the infection is gone. Maybe now it will heal from within and close."

Hariki craned his neck and tucked his chin in an effort to see, without much success. His neck didn't seem to want to turn well in that direction either. "How bad is it? I can't see."

"Well," Gyrl paused, considering the wound, "it went deeper than I first thought. What damage it did, I'm not sure yet. Can you move your arm?"

Hariki's face gave evidence to the effort he put out, however, the hand on the hide robe didn't budge. He tried again with the same results. He raised a stricken face. "Useless?"

Gyrl nodded sadly. "I was afraid that it would be."

A solitary tear slipped down the gaunt cheek. "Useless," Hariki mumbled to himself, "just as useless as I've become."

"Stop that!" Gyrl barked. "Be thankful you are still alive and remember that hope always lives as long as you do."

Hariki nodded and wiped the tear away angrily. Yet his gaze lit again on the still hand on the furred robe.

Outside the wind began a mournful howl as it whipped the bare branches of the nearby trees.

~~~~~~~~~*

The six lieutenants looked expectantly at Hanu as Mylu finished speaking. Three of the reports had been more positive this time: except for the one missing barge-train, the grain and other stolen tributes poured into Tharea on schedule; the fires were almost completely under control, and the pits outside the city were not filling with new corpses quite as quickly as before. Only Mylu's report of his lack of success in finding any traces of the two old fugitives and Fichiku's continued inability to stamp out the problem of riots and mobs in Tharea threw a shadow on the proceedings. Even from the provincial capitals, word was now coming in of similar rioting in the streets.

"Now," Hanu said, turning to Cham, "Have you spies out among the people?" At the slim, young man's nod, she continued, "What is the word, then, on the rioting? It is still over the lack of food?

"Not entirely anymore. The lack of shelter for those burned out of their homes is one of the big, remaining problems as well as rampant stealing of food tokens from those too weak to defend themselves. We are also going to have to deal with the Merchant-Guild soon, or they will begin to cause real trouble. They also lost the greater share of their facilities in the fires, and are demanding help in rebuilding."

"Getting the Guild angry with us at this point could be disastrous-they could sabotage any efforts toward stabilizing the economy," Kor chimed in. "After all, how can we hope to maintain any order at all if our animals die, our weapons go unrepaired,..."

"I see your point, men," Hanu held her hand up to get their attention and stop the discussion. "Thal, how many men were on the fire lines?"

"That's why it took so long to gain control, Lady. Chlin only allowed me fifty or so to take care of the whole city. We had to draft people from the streets to help."

"Hmmm," she mused. "How long until you foresee the final phases of getting the last fires out?"

"With those few men, at least another five days," the gruff voice of the young lieutenant was apologetic. "We still find hotspots springing up all over."

"That sounds reasonable," the old woman agreed, "considering the size of the burned areas. Once we don't have to fight the fires, we can start rebuilding at the Guild buildings."

"With what?" Kor sounded tired.

"With all due respect, Lady, there is no more wood on all the plains around Tharea," Narik reminded her. "Chlin ordered them burned with the prairie, don't you remember? He was quite emphatic about it, as a matter of fact. Everything was to be put to the flame."

Hanu slumped in her chair. "Destruction was so easy," she mused aloud, "but we'd better come up with a way to rebuild what we destroyed or we will lose what little we have left."

"What has happened to the King?!" Kor demanded angrily. "He is scandalizing the city by his “lack“ of action. Where are the reforms he promised - the redistribution of wealth? What happened to our leader who was able to turn all the obstacles in his way aside to gain his rightful throne?!" Kor shook his head in frustration. "He's succeeding to drive away the support of some who aided us in the beginning by not doing what he promised."

At Hanu's lack of a defense for her nephew, the other lieutenants felt more comfortable in finally airing some of their secretly-held complaints. Until that moment, when Kor had dared speak his mind to the King's aunt and she had not deigned to respond, not one of them had any idea of how to make their thoughts known without ending up in the dungeon for treason.

"That and the fact that one never knows what might happen when he gets drunk, which lately has been almost every night." Cham added his own private peeve to Kor's.

Narik nodded. "He seems to think that all the food and drink are for him alone now that he wears the crown, and anyone who disagrees with him should visit Chan's eighth hell. Doesn't he realize that unless he loosens his grip, he won't have any people left to rule?"

"I'm starting to think that he doesn't know how to handle the power and prestige of being King," Thal commented sourly. "He acts like the proverbial peasant boy who finally talked his girl into going into the field at night: “Chan's bones, now what do I do?”, he cries" The old joke held no humor for the other lieutenants.

"You're our contact with the King, Lady; you claim some influence with him," Kor reminded Hanu. "Somehow, you must convince him to amend his ways and become a King the people can look up to. He must learn to care for the people he wants to rule." He stretched out a hand to the old woman. "Remind him of his responsibilities!"

"I know, I know," Hanu snapped. "But in the meanwhile, until he remembers who and what he REALLY is, we have to take ourselves in hand and pull together and care for the people until Chlin is ready to do it for himself."

"Can you convince him to at least begin a fair dispersement of food to the people now, with some sort of safeguards to prevent the stealing?" Cham asked evenly, yet with a note of pleading. "So many problems would cease if he would. I think the riots might ease up if the people knew that something was being done."

"I'll talk to him and do what I can," Hanu conceded. "Kor, do you think you could find some other ways to rebuild the city? Wood can't be the only material."

"In the ancient days, stonework was done, like this Palace," Cham mused aloud. "The problem is that the art died many generations ago except in the mountains because of the availability and ease of using wood. The Thaelu have depended on wood for far too long."

"What the Halidu still know, certainly we can relearn," Mylu chided, his pride stung. "Anything those barbarians can do, we should have no problem in doing better, right?"

~~~~~~~~~*

Hariki sat up slowly and looked out through the semi-transparent skin window at the swirling snow-or at least at what he imagined was snow. "Another storm. That makes three this week alone."

Looking up from his task of carefully working the fur from a hide, Gyrl agreed. "We were lucky to find this place when we did, and even luckier that it was sound. We would be a great deal colder otherwise." He looked back at his work. "What's more, we're so isolated, and the weather is getting so severe, that there is little chance of our being found out for months now."

"Not that it makes any difference in my case," Hariki mumbled more loudly than he thought, "since I won't last the winter anyway."

Gyrl's head flew up and he began to sputter an objection. "What?! Now we...Your Majesty... "

Hariki snorted sarcastically. "Your Majesty nothing. I'm no King - just an old man who is being realistic when he sees the end of his usefulness." He gave Gyrl a direct and piercing gaze. "Don't waste your time trying to convince me otherwise, either."

At a complete loss for a reply, Gyrl opened and closed his mouth until his thoughts began to organize themselves. "I never thought I'd see the day when Hariki d'Ganech gave into anything much less adversity." The words and the tone with which they were delivered stung, and Hariki flinched visibly. Gyrl continued, "Had I known I was aiding a man who wasn't ready to take the wind in hand and bend with it and come up straight again, I would not have brought you with me."

Cheeks flushing, Hariki turned back to the window. "You have every right to feel that way, Gyrl. You lost almost as much as I did. The difference between us is that you have your health still. Your wound healed with no problems. Your life kept you in better shape. And what is more, you come from a family unweakened by in-breeding."

"What does that have to do with your giving up on life?"

"It has everything to do with it, my dear old friend. It means that the older I get, the less able to withstand hardships and survive injuries I become. All of my predecessors suffered the same fate; remember my father."

Gyrl nodded silently, remembering that the old King had died due to complications after a fall from a burri - an ignoble end.

"And my only consolation, after all that has happened," Hariki continued grimly, "is that Chlin will suffer the same fate too, perhaps sooner than later because of his indulgences. My one regret is that my grandson.."

"Hariki, old friend," Gyrl chided gently, "You have no grandson! Chlin and Karinna..."

"I know, I know," Hariki sighed in exasperation. "But I have a grandson! I feel it in my soul! But a grandson I'll never know."

"One of Chin's women, you mean?"

"No. As impossible as it seems, he will be of good and legal birth." Hariki stole a glance at Gyrl's face and sighed again heavily. "You don't believe me."

"Well, I can't help being skeptical. You were feverish for so long, your delirium could have become very real to you. However," Gyrl grew thoughtful and his hands slowed at their work, "Thara knows stranger things have been known to happen."

~~~~~~~~~*

Hanu stared at the guard in front of Chlin's chamber in disbelief. "What do you mean, the King is not to be disturbed? It's the middle of the day, for Thara's sake. Chan's bones! He was due at a meeting an hour ago!"

The young guard only shrugged. "I'm sorry. I know nothing of any meeting or other matters of that like. All I know is that I have my orders that nobody is to disturb His Majesty until further notice."

The tiny old woman drew herself up angrily and gave the guard a shove that knocked the startled youth off balance. Taking advantage of the opening, she thrust the door open and slipped into the royal sitting room, shouting, "Chlin! You leave you latest "conquest" and get out here right now! Or is the latest King of Thaelia going to reign from his bedchamber like an invalid?" The guard, having regained his balance, dashed into the room behind her and grabbed her roughly by the arm with the intention of dragging her out. Hanu began struggling with him, and the two of them inched closer to the door until they heard Chlin's harsh command.

"Cease! Z'f'thon! Can't I give an order without being immediately disobeyed?" He wrapped the blanket he wore over his shoulder tighter and tucked it in so he had one arm free and could let go. With a nod of his head, he dismissed the guard. Hanu angrily straightened her clothes while glowering at her nephew. He pulled the door to the bedchamber closed, stalked to the table and poured himself a liberal drink of mimosia. Chlin gave his diminutive aunt a withering glare. "You are starting to make me wonder just who you think is in charge, Aunt."

"Perhaps if you would show some leadership, instead of drinking yourself into oblivion and spending your time with women, we wouldn't have the problem."

Chlin's voice was soft and deadly. "If you are going to start about my lifestyle, you can find room in Chan's lowest realm. If you have other matters to discuss, get on with it."

Hanu eyed the disheveled red hair with a mixture of disdain and concern. "You missed the meeting YOU set up with the Merchants-Guild. They were more than a little angry at being summoned for no apparent reason."

"Those old men don't have anything else to do. They can wait my pleasure," he sniffed haughtily. "So I forgot the meeting. It wasn't that important."

"Those "old men" as you call them, are up to their eyebrows in work trying to get YOUR land back to a civilized state," Hanu hissed. "Whether you want to admit it or not, their services are indispensable to you and to the kingdom. I shouldn't have to remind you that all professions save Healing come under their control."

"Save me the lessons in civil organization, Hanu. What difference that I miss one meeting..."

Hanu shook her head in defeat. "You still haven't learned that you must maintain the loyalty of the people to maintain your status as their King. Why, I don't know - because you played upon this very lack of loyalty to get where you are today." She threw her hands wide in exasperation. "Chlin, wake up! The support of the Merchant-Guild is absolutely..."

"Enough!" Chlin's green eyes flashed. "You forget whom you serve! I will do as I wish when I wish! If you or the Guild or your friends my lieutenants don't like the way I want things done, it makes no difference to me. The first act against me will be the last!" He drew himself up to his full height and raised a warning finger. "Don't ever come to me again with the idea of berating me. You just manage the trivial details, like you said you wanted to, and don't bother me with anything but the vital matters that threaten my rule."

"You've gone mad," Hanu breathed in sharply.

Chlin raised his eyebrows. "I think you had best leave before you say another word. You will regret it if you don't." With a crooked smile on his face, Chlin watched Hanu turn slowly and exit the chamber. Chuckling to himself, he poured and downed another sizable amount of mimosia, then shrugged off the blanket, leaving himself naked. Still chuckling,he picked up the blanket, threw it casually over his shoulder and reentered the bedchamber.

"Behold, the King returns," a soft voice stated from amid the tumbled bedclothes.

Chlin tossed the blanket into a heap at the foot of the bed and walked over to look down at the black-haired beauty who struck a seductive pose with an impish grin. He flopped down next to her and swatted her playfully on the backside. "You speak boldly for a hostage," he quipped.

"Why not?" Shamira asked lightly, rolling over and running her fingers through the hair on Chlin's chest. "This hostage happens to prefer her bondage to the prison her father has made of her home. Besides, I always did favor you, even when your wife was around."

Chlin returned the caress. "Your father, the great Lord Loy, would sell his wife for enough food for his belly right now. I'll bet he thinks this is about as close as he can come now to having his family be royalty, sending you here to the Palace to keep me company."

"You weren't fooled for an instant, were you?"

Chlin laughed. "You mean by that show of grief at relinquishing his - what were the words he used? – “greatest treasure” when he brought you here? I should say not." He wrapped one hand in the thick, black tresses and pulled gently. "If he could hear you now..."

Shamira rubbed her head against his hand saucily. "Speaking of hearing things, your aunt didn't sound too very happy with you."

Chlin stiffened slightly, and his hand gave Shamira's hair another tug that was not quite as gentle as the last. "You listened?" From a basket on the opposite side of the room where he slept when not draped over Chlin's shoulder, Mishik stirred and looked up sleepily at his master. Seeing nothing unusual to bark or hiss at, the morynch buried its pointed nose back into the soft cushions and closed its yellow eyes.

"I could hardly help it, with the both of you shouting at each other." She snuggled closer to Chlin. "Besides, I think you handled her quite well and are quite wise."

Chlin relaxed again with the compliment. "How so?"

"Well," Shamira put her hands behind her head, "If it is known that Kari Hanu makes the decisions, then anything that goes wrong can be blamed on her, since you can claim that she acted without your authority. Who could question your word? On the other hand, you can take credit for any good she manages to accomplish." She reached up to rumple his hair playfully and gave a tug of her own. "You come out best either way."

Chlin smiled at her words, and then he laughed out loud. "I believe you are as intelligent as you are beautiful. What is more, you think like I do!" He raised up on one elbow and looked down at her, mirth still playing on his face. "What else do you think, my beauty?"

Shamira thought quietly for a moment, then gave him a crooked smile. "Play the dissolute monarch to everyone but me. Let the hag keep her feeling of power, at least until the problems of restoring order are solved. Then, get rid of her."

"You play for power as well," Chlin stated warily. "Why should I trust you more than I do my aunt, who has supported me since I was a lad?"

"Simple," Shamira's eyes became hard. "I want to be Queen, and I have no qualms about stepping on more than toes to get what I want. I'm not rationalizing my ambition away, nor am I denying that it exists, like she does. Hanu behaves more and more like her brother, your father." She gave Chlin a smile that betrayed sarcasm. "She treats you as if you were yet a green boy. I, on the other hand, see a man strong and capable."

"Let her go on then," Chlin said with evil determination. "The better she performs, then, the deeper she digs her own grave."

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