know one another, and that,
yes, I had warmed to Akaten. This remark thoroughly aroused the
king, who then subjected me to exquisite love-making. I could not
complain about that, although it amused me to imagine that as we
acted out our fantasies upon each other, we were both thinking of
our Mewtish visitor.
One night, I
lay upon my bed, drowsing in the hot, perfumed air. All my windows
were thrown open, and the cries of owls filled my room. Akaten and
I had been out riding that afternoon, even though the weather was
really too warm for the horses’ comfort. An armed guard had
accompanied us, for Alofel still did not trust Akaten not to try
and escape. I myself was unsure whether he’d take the opportunity
if it arose. As we’d dismounted from our steaming mounts in the
shadowed stable-yard, Akaten had stroked my hair. He had offered no
explanation for the caress and had walked away from me before I
could speak or respond. Afterwards, I considered that the gesture
had been too pre-meditated. I suspected he knew all about my
feelings for him and liked to pull my strings. He was never far
from my thoughts.
As I lay
there, idly stroking myself, a knock came at the door. Hastily, I
covered myself with a sheet. The hour was late. Who would come
knocking at this time of the night? I suppose I knew even then who
it was. ‘Come in,’ I said, and Akaten opened the door. I was unable
to speak, although the question, ‘what are you doing here?’ churned
round my mind.
‘ Are you
tired?’ he asked me, venturing into the moonlight that streamed
through my window.
‘ Why?’
He shrugged.
‘I want to walk in the garden, and as you are my official friend, I
thought I’d call for you on the way.’
‘ It is
very late,’ I said.
‘ And the
night is beautiful. Come on. Don’t be tiresome. Why lie here awake
when the moon calls us?’
‘ Wait
outside the door,’ I said. ‘I must dress.’
He raised one
eyebrow, but complied with my words.
As we padded
silently through the darkened halls of the palace, I wondered how
Akaten had escaped his vigilant attendants. His position in the
household was still tenuous. Technically, he was an enemy captive,
who should not be allowed to wander around unsupervised.
We roamed
across the lawns, beneath the spreading branches of the trees.
Peacocks drowsed on the grass, their folded tails trailing in the
early dew. Akaten went to one of the trees and leaned back against
it, gazing up through the sighing branches. So far, we had spoken
little.
‘ So,
tell me, how did you escape?’ I asked him.
He put his
head on side to look at me. ‘Easily. I climbed the vines on the
terrace wall up to the roof.’
I could not
help laughing. ‘A precarious climb! You were lucky you weren’t
killed!’
He smiled.
‘No, Darien, that wouldn’t have happened. Tonight, there is magic
in the air.’
My laugh
turned into a sneer. ‘Is there?’
He shook his
head and looked at me. ‘You are so unimaginative.’
‘ Hardly,’ I answered dryly. If only he knew!
‘ You’re
never anything but formal. It diminishes your attractions.’ He
didn’t wait for me to respond to that, but began to walk around the
tree, touching it with one hand. ‘It must be the way you’ve been
trained, or brain-washed. It’s such a waste. I like to imagine you
with tangled hair and dirt on your face. Then you would be more
real.’
Indignation
hardened my heart. ‘I am very real, Akaten. More so than you can
imagine.’
‘ No, you
are a dream.’
I thought he
seemed intoxicated as if he’d been drinking or smoking hemp. The
conversation itself had taken on a dream-like quality. He seemed
fragile and fey. Perhaps they had increased his dose of herbals
again. Impulsively, I reached out and grabbed hold of his arm,
stopped him circuiting the tree. He leaned his side against me, his
head hanging forward. ‘What do you want of me?’ I hissed. ‘What is
this game?’
‘ The
game of life,’ he answered.
yes, I had warmed to Akaten. This remark thoroughly aroused the
king, who then subjected me to exquisite love-making. I could not
complain about that, although it amused me to imagine that as we
acted out our fantasies upon each other, we were both thinking of
our Mewtish visitor.
One night, I
lay upon my bed, drowsing in the hot, perfumed air. All my windows
were thrown open, and the cries of owls filled my room. Akaten and
I had been out riding that afternoon, even though the weather was
really too warm for the horses’ comfort. An armed guard had
accompanied us, for Alofel still did not trust Akaten not to try
and escape. I myself was unsure whether he’d take the opportunity
if it arose. As we’d dismounted from our steaming mounts in the
shadowed stable-yard, Akaten had stroked my hair. He had offered no
explanation for the caress and had walked away from me before I
could speak or respond. Afterwards, I considered that the gesture
had been too pre-meditated. I suspected he knew all about my
feelings for him and liked to pull my strings. He was never far
from my thoughts.
As I lay
there, idly stroking myself, a knock came at the door. Hastily, I
covered myself with a sheet. The hour was late. Who would come
knocking at this time of the night? I suppose I knew even then who
it was. ‘Come in,’ I said, and Akaten opened the door. I was unable
to speak, although the question, ‘what are you doing here?’ churned
round my mind.
‘ Are you
tired?’ he asked me, venturing into the moonlight that streamed
through my window.
‘ Why?’
He shrugged.
‘I want to walk in the garden, and as you are my official friend, I
thought I’d call for you on the way.’
‘ It is
very late,’ I said.
‘ And the
night is beautiful. Come on. Don’t be tiresome. Why lie here awake
when the moon calls us?’
‘ Wait
outside the door,’ I said. ‘I must dress.’
He raised one
eyebrow, but complied with my words.
As we padded
silently through the darkened halls of the palace, I wondered how
Akaten had escaped his vigilant attendants. His position in the
household was still tenuous. Technically, he was an enemy captive,
who should not be allowed to wander around unsupervised.
We roamed
across the lawns, beneath the spreading branches of the trees.
Peacocks drowsed on the grass, their folded tails trailing in the
early dew. Akaten went to one of the trees and leaned back against
it, gazing up through the sighing branches. So far, we had spoken
little.
‘ So,
tell me, how did you escape?’ I asked him.
He put his
head on side to look at me. ‘Easily. I climbed the vines on the
terrace wall up to the roof.’
I could not
help laughing. ‘A precarious climb! You were lucky you weren’t
killed!’
He smiled.
‘No, Darien, that wouldn’t have happened. Tonight, there is magic
in the air.’
My laugh
turned into a sneer. ‘Is there?’
He shook his
head and looked at me. ‘You are so unimaginative.’
‘ Hardly,’ I answered dryly. If only he knew!
‘ You’re
never anything but formal. It diminishes your attractions.’ He
didn’t wait for me to respond to that, but began to walk around the
tree, touching it with one hand. ‘It must be the way you’ve been
trained, or brain-washed. It’s such a waste. I like to imagine you
with tangled hair and dirt on your face. Then you would be more
real.’
Indignation
hardened my heart. ‘I am very real, Akaten. More so than you can
imagine.’
‘ No, you
are a dream.’
I thought he
seemed intoxicated as if he’d been drinking or smoking hemp. The
conversation itself had taken on a dream-like quality. He seemed
fragile and fey. Perhaps they had increased his dose of herbals
again. Impulsively, I reached out and grabbed hold of his arm,
stopped him circuiting the tree. He leaned his side against me, his
head hanging forward. ‘What do you want of me?’ I hissed. ‘What is
this game?’
‘ The
game of life,’ he answered.
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