20. Lyr

20

LYR

" I wish to claim this punishment and take it in the accused's stead."

Lyr's heart stops. " No! " he yells with such force he falls from the stool onto the floor, his chains clanking.

He lies there for a moment, unable to move, until he feels the hands of the enforcers on his body, lifting him to put him back in place. He cannot bear the horror of it. He has been making peace with his death at the hands of Azuria for a long time. Not just last night, but ever since he was dragged to his feet in the hall of Blackstone Castle.

His own death, he can take. He feels certain. But not this.

Damon's death, Damon's death in his stead, he feels like his body is dissolving, he can't feel the flagstones under his knees. "No," he moans again to the floor.

Damon taking a punishment meant for another. Again. Damon being so shamed, publicly shamed, beaten to death while all of Attar looks on.

It cannot be possible such a thing could happen.

Through all this, he is aware of Rafus, saying, "I cannot allow this. I will not lose another son to this horror."

Lyr looks up from the floor as the small man in charge, says, "Only a close family member can take a punishment unto themselves. Damon cannot take the suffering for this slave."

Damon's voice is even. "Lyr is my slave. I am responsible."

The small man shakes his head. "No. I am sorry. That would not come under the law of stead. A Master cannot take a punishment from a slave. The relationship must be closer than that."

Lyr stares at Damon. He sees him take a visible breath. He feels sick in his throat. He knows what is coming now. Something even worse. There is only one way. He is stunned to realise that Damon is foolish enough to do this. Lyr whispers, " No ." There is no one close enough to hear it.

But it happens. Damon says, "I am sly. The Juran whore is my lover. He is to me as a wife. If I were able to set the Lady Inez aside and take him before Zai, I would. I am bound to him as close as any person of my blood kin. I take my pleasure from his body and I love him above all others."

This statement ignites the hall. Everyone seems to be talking at once, Lyr is drowning in a wall of sound. He can't understand how to process what Damon just said.

Over it all, Rafus says, "No, that is impossible. My son is no luxorite. He cannot be allowed to give his life for a male whore."

"Yes, I am, father," Damon says.

Lyr looks at the people on the high table. He sees the Hare step forward and say something to the tall priest on the dais. The tall priest turns and says something to the small man.

The small man nods and the tall priest stands up. Something about his presence is commanding. Lyr feels like he is sucking the air from the room as he speaks. "It is well understood that Zai recognises the strength of bonds that can exist between sly men. He warns against such bonds in the Book of the Rules. I think we see before us the dangers of such a thing being allowed to develop. Damon Darekul, you say you are sly. Do you lust only for men?"

"Yes," says Damon. There is no hint of emotion in his voice. "You may interrogate the Lady Inez and she will tell you that I have only bedded her twice and both times I needed a strengthening love draught to do so. Zai has not blessed her womb as punishment for my sins."

Lyr swallows. This is information Damon would have done anything to keep secret. And now he is announcing it all in public to persuade the Rose Court to execute him.

He can hear the small man saying "There will be no need to bring Lady Inez to the justice hall. I am satisfied with Doroth Zain's counsel on this matter that Damon Darekul's bond with his slave is as close as family for a man such as him. But it must go both ways. Slave, do you love your Master as a husband?"

Lyr wonders what would happen now if he said no, but he cannot. He cannot deny the only truth he knows. "Yes," he says. "Yes, I love him with all that I am, as a wife loves a husband."

"Have you lain with him?"

Lyr nods.

"Please speak the words."

"Yes," Lyr says. "Yes, I have lain with him. He took me at the Feast of Surrus in the coupling grove. "

The members of the Rose Court turn and speak to each other. Then the small man says, "You are a slave. Can you offer any witness to this act?"

Damon says, "I am witness."

The small man shakes his head. "No," he says in a dry voice. "No. I think we need more surety for this judgement. A reliable sign that the accused has lain with the offerer of stead."

Lyr takes a shaky breath. Perhaps Damon will not get his wish after all. But then, up on the dais, Atticul stands. "I can bear witness," he says. "This slave came to my room in Sanglora Manor the morning after the Feast of Surrus. He boasted of lying with Damon Darekul to me. He was proud of it. He told me that Damon had put his tongue into the whore's asshole." Atticul gives Lyr a nasty smiles as the entire room seems to inhale at once.

The small man says, "Crudity is not required, My Prince."

At the same time, Rafus says, "That does not make my son a witness."

But the small man says, "No, I think for this, with the other declarations, it can stand. The language of a sly whore, indeed. Zai will allow it. Damon Darekul can be flogged to death for the murder of Prince Endrew in his lover's stead."

Again, Damon's voice betrays no emotion. "Holy Enforcer of Zai, I thank you for this fair judgement. But I will take the punishment that you would have given my slave. I will take the whipping that would have killed him."

Again Damon's voice is free from any emotion, not a hint of fear as he negotiates the level of brutality he will face.

It's Atticul's voice that sounds emotional as he says, petulantly, "No, Bastard, it must be death. "

The Hare gets up. He takes a book from his pile and carries it with him to stand behind the small man. He shows him something, murmurs something.

The small man nods to him in reply. "My acolyte points out correctly that the stead punishment must be exactly the same. No changes are permitted for a differing constitution. Rafus, perhaps you will get your wish. A flogging severe enough to kill this small-bodied slave may be something your son can survive."

"Father," Atticul says, his voice almost a wail. "Please, Father, Endrew is dead. This cannot stand. They should both be executed for this treasonous suggestion."

It's Selim who answers. "This will still be a heavy punishment, Atticul. There will be justice for Endrew. Gelen, how many strokes of your lash would it take to kill this slave?" He points to Lyr.

The small man says, "It is not something I can be exact about, but I would be surprised if he could survive a hundred."

Selim nods. "Very well, let that stand. Give judgement and end this grotesque spectacle."

The small man says, "Damon Darekul, you will take the punishment in your slave's stead for the murder of Prince Endrew. It will be one hundred lashes, to be taken in the Punishment Square at noon. Zai, hold your soul. When it is done, if you survive, we will investigate your confession to sins of the body and the further punishment. The mourning for Prince Endrew will commence afterwards and last for one turn of the moon."

Damon nods. He says, "I thank you for your mercy and wisdom, Holy Enforcer."

Lyr is unsure what will happen to him now. It turns out he is to be taken to the Punishment Square along with Damon. He is given a cloak of rough wool to wear. They are both led by their flanking enforcers out of the Rose Palace and placed in an open cart in the courtyard. They face each other. Damon wears chains too now. Thicker ones, binding his wrists in front of him.

When Damon sees Lyr opposite him, he swallows. He can hardly look at Lyr's face.

"I'm going too?" Lyr says to one of the enforcers and gets a ringing slap for it.

"Quiet," the enforcer says, stepping down from the cart.

"You have to watch," says Damon, blankly. "Your punishment is to witness it."

"You should not have done this," Lyr says to Damon, as the cart starts to move through the gates of the Rose Palace into the streets of Attar. His voice is heavy. He can't keep the tears from it. "You'll lose everything."

"I know. There was no other way," says Damon, eyes dry and gaze clear.

Lyr feels it heavy inside him. This method of justice is savagely effective. The punishment he will endure now seems every bit as brutal as being flogged himself. He looks at Damon angrily, "No other way to do what?"

"Save you. What they will do to me in your stead would have killed you."

Lyr nods. Moving his head fast to stop from crying. "But if you survive you will face justice for sins of the body. What then?"

Damon's voice is flat. Lyr has never seen him like this. "I will be exiled and have all my possessions confiscated."

"And what of me? I am one of your possessions."

Damon looks at Lyr with a level gaze. "No. I named you. As a slave, you will have no recourse against my claim. You are also guilty of sins of the body. The punishment will be the same."

Lyr looks at Damon, unsure. "You mean I will also be exiled? You mean they will send me with you? We will be together."

"Yes." Damon finally looks Lyr in the eye. "But exile is little better than a death sentence. Especially for a man so injured as I will be. But there may be a way. I think I know what they will do, where they will send us."

Lyr shivers, he thinks he sees a glimpse of Damon's reckless plan. "But we will be together?" he says again.

Damon shakes his head slightly to mean Lyr should keep quiet. Then says, "Yes. If I survive this day."

Damon does not say another word to Lyr and Lyr does not try to coax him. He cannot bear to hear Damon say more in that brutal, flat monotone. Nothing feels real.

They reach the large square near Gleamview Market with its cages and high flogging scaffold. Lyr is taken to a seat at the viewing dais. Most of the Rose Court from the Hall of Twelve are present. The Hare sits beside Lyr.

Damon is brought up onto the scaffold and chained to the whipping post. He has been undressed and put in a hip cloth for this punishment. A large crowd has gathered. Word of this event has clearly spread fast.

The crowd jeers as Damon's body is displayed to them for punishment. Lyr feels his throat aching from the effort of not giving in to the waiting sobs he can feel building in his chest.

Softly the Hare says, "He will be lucky to survive this and if he does he will face the wrath of Zai for what he has confessed. I hope this was not a mistake."

Lyr thinks this was not a mistake. This was a wild desperate gamble. Damon has bet his own strength, all his ambitions and everything he owns. For Lyr's life.

Below Lyr on the dais sit a row of minor nobles. Lyr recognises, directly in front of him, the woman who spoke to Damon at the feast the day before. Next to her is a younger man with bright red hair.

The red-headed man says to the woman, "I love to watch a flogging when it's a handsome man."

"Elric," the woman hisses, sounding a little hysterical, "Gelen the Green would have you on the scaffold yourself for such a statement. You are not beyond reproach. You must be cautious about what you express."

"No one cares if I delight in the sight of The One Man Army stripped and flogged, Mother," the man says, sounding quite amused.

"Do you think so?" says the woman. "Expressing such lust is a sin in itself. If your One Man Army survives his hundred strokes then this afternoon, you will see how being found guilty of such crimes can destroy a man. Even the most noble. Or you would. But you will spend this afternoon doing a penance in the Temple of Sarelik."

"Must I?" says the man, "when the Emperor himself already wants?—"

" Elric! " says the woman, sharply enough that the man stops speaking immediately. Lyr wonders what he was going to say. In a low tone that Lyr strains to hear, the woman says, "Let me handle Selim."

But it is only a moment's distraction before the lashing begins and Lyr cannot think of anything else.

Damon's big battle-scarred body is hanging in chains by his thick wrists. Lyr has seen Damon stripped only twice before. It is a horror that he should see Damon's body like this, while it is still so unfamiliar. Those shoulders, that chest, those thick muscled thighs, that had delighted Lyr, now it is sickening to see them. Damon is strong, but any man, stripped and alone, in front of a crowd assembled to see him suffer, is weak.

Lyr can't help wondering what he would look like if he was there in Damon's place.

There is another man, shirtless, in black breeches, heavy black boots and a black mask, standing behind him holding a long whip. He looks strong, with a layer of fat over a torso that is thick with muscle. His arms and chest are covered in dense dark hairs. Below the scaffold drummers begin to play a slow beat.

The small man walks up onto the scaffold. He speaks first to Damon and then makes an announcement of the charges, the nature of the punishment stead. He points to Lyr as he outlines what is about to happen. Lyr can barely make out the words over a strange low whistling in his ears.

People in the crowd shout things. Something about The One Man Army, something about a slave, and very clearly, the word ‘luxorite'.

They roar and jeer louder as it begins. The masked man draws back and raises the lash. Lyr holds his breath. Time suspends for a moment. And then it falls with a heavy thump that makes Lyr whimper. Damon is driven forward in the manacles, grunting. Lyr watches his feet shift on the wooden planks of the scaffold to hold his balance, as a stripe of red is pulled up on his back, spilling thin blood as the lash rips away from his flesh.

Lyr can't believe this is happening.

The lash flies again. More blood, another red line ripped into flesh. Damon grunts, gasps in pain. It happens. It keeps happening. Again. Again and again to the heavy beat of the drum. Damon's noises of pain. His bare feet shifting to hold his body in place. A criss-cross pattern forms on his back. Damon's skin is being removed in strips .

Blood snakes down his big body in tiny red streams and makes patterns around his feet, making slippery pools that make it harder and harder for him to stand.

His back is laid open, bit by bit, stripe by stripe, pain by pain.

Lyr watches. He cannot look away. He sees the cold sweat on Damon's skin mingle with the blood. He sees Damon's thighs start to shake and the moment that his legs cannot hold his weight anymore and he slumps, letting his wrists bear it all. His shoulders will tear, Lyr thinks.

And it still goes on. The lash flying. Hitting Damon like he's meat.

Lyr watches with tears rolling down his cheeks.

Will this kill Damon? This punishment that should have been Lyr's. For the first time, Lyr finds himself seeking some comfort in Jareleezi's magic and the messages she had received from her Gods. If they were right, if meeting Lyr means Damon is fated to travel to Ismagaar and to Jareleezi, Damon cannot die now. He hopes, for the first time, with a bright, pure, desperate hope, that all they said is true. That all Jareleezi's magic is real. Because, if it is, Damon will live.

He will live, Lyr thinks. And if he does, he will never be The One Man Army again.

What will he be?

Damon is unconscious when he is taken down from the scaffold. Lyr watches. He cannot tell if Damon is alive, dead or close to death. His inert body is carried to the cart to jeers from the crowd. Lyr is unsure what to do. He is still flanked by two enforcers .

Rafus stands up. "Does my son live?" he bellows across the scaffold. "Gelen, tell me now, does he live?"

The small man from the justice hall is watching from a platform beside the scaffold. He looks to the masked man, who nods.

The small man turns. "He lives still."

Lyr feels like he will faint with relief.

Rafus says, "Take my son to my private chambers in the Tower of the Heir."

"Brother," says Selim next to him, "he must be taken to the dungeons. He has confessed to a great crime."

Rafus turns to Selim. "Please, Your Grace, you can be sure he will not run. Look at him." This is stated quietly, but Lyr is close enough to both of them to hear it.

"Very well," says Selim. He speaks to the small man. "See it is done. He is to be held under guard in the Crown Prince's quarters."

"And the slave?" says the small man.

"Keep them together. He will also need to face his crimes."

Lyr goes with Rafus to a carriage where he is taken back to the Rose Palace and the Tower of the Heir. He doesn't know how Damon is transported, but he is carried in on a pallet sometime later, lying on his stomach, his back glistening, sickeningly red and black. Skin gone. Can he survive an injury like this?

Rafus draws up a stool and perches himself upon it beside Damon's unconscious body. He sobs quietly, "My dear, sweet son. Why has Zai done this to my family? He has blessed me with many sons, but Atticul is a fool and a libertine. I love him but he is petty and cruel. My sweet Lukas was delivered to me when his mother died and he repaid me with open rebellion. Tobi is nothing but a vane wastrel. Kerik is missing. My sweetpea Endrew is dead. I always thought you were the only one worth anything, Damon, my true blessing from Zai. My firstborn, named for a great king. My only good son still living." Rafus looks at Lyr sitting in the corner. He had thought Rafus had forgotten he was there. "And he gave up his dignity and skin for you."

Lyr looks back at Rafus sourly. "He gave twenty years of his life for you."

Rafus does not protest at this. He nods. "He has never forgiven me for it. He gave his body for my weakness. Now he has given it for yours. Was there ever a prince so noble?"

Lyr cannot believe he is here talking with Prince Rafus, the Crown Prince of Azuria. Damon's father. He seems so unlike Damon it makes Lyr wonder what Damon's mother was like.

As if he has read Lyr's thoughts, Rafus says, "I'm his father. He may not look like me, but he has my weakness. He is a slave to desire. Vindar and Atticul may have their way with him yet."

"How will they have their way?"

"I have been informed that Damon has been judged unfit to attend his own justice. They will make their decisions about his fate in private. It will be the end of his life as a nobleman of Azuria."

It is almost evening when a page arrives to order Damon be brought to the Hall of Twelve for the pronouncement of the Rose Court. He has to be supported by three men, just conscious enough to refuse to be carried.

Lyr is brought too, led by two enforcers as he follows behind Damon. They make slow progress back to the hall.

Damon is led to the low stool in front of the high table. He does not sit on it. He looks at Selim and says, "I will stand." His voice is weak like his throat has been sanded raw.

Selim nods and the small man stands up and begins, "Damon Darekul, bastard son of Crown Prince Rafus, you are guilty of sins of the body by your own confession. The punishment is exile for the whole of your life. All your belongings, property and slaves will be confiscated to the throne of Azuria, all excepting the island of Sanvicta, which you will be permitted to keep in light of your service to the empire. Your marriage to the Lady Inez will be annulled."

Rafus stands, "Your Grace, please, my son is unfit to be exiled. His wounds are serious. He may not survive without the attention of my healers."

"You will remain silent on this matter, Prince Rafus," says Selim levelly. "Please High Enforcer, continue."

The small man says, "Damon Darekul, a ship from the Azurian fleet will take you to Sanvicta at dawn. Any servants and comforts you have there will be removed. You will be given bread and water for forty days. No subject of the Azurian Empire may aid or give you comfort."

"Please, Selim," Rafus wails. "It's a death sentence. Please do not do this."

Slowly and with difficulty, Damon says, "What of my slave? The Juran slave."

"Your slave is guilty of the same crime. He will be sent with you to Sanvicta to endure the same punishment," says the small man .

Damon glances over at Lyr. He looks like he is about to say something. But no words come. He is swaying.

"He can't stand," Lyr shouts, " Help him! "

But it's too late. All Lyr can do is watch as Damon vomits and collapses on the floor. He's bleeding through his shirt.

A group of enforcers come over with a wooden pallet, load Damon onto it and carry him from the room.

One of the enforcers holding Lyr says, "Where shall I take this one?"

"The dungeons," Gelen the Green says idly.

Selim has come down from the platform. He is walking over to Lyr. He gets close enough that Lyr can smell his rose scent. "Ah yes," he says to Lyr. "You." He pushes aside the woollen cloak that covers Lyr's body. "You belonged to Jareleezi the Hevelikar witch."

He looks at Selim. "Yes," he says. "Your Grace."

"You know, Damon made a deal with me. You were part of that deal."

"I know. You gave him permission to lie with me in Vashti. You told him his sin would be unpunished."

Selim smiles oddly. "You think I have betrayed him? No. Perhaps he did not give the details. I told him that the Rose Court would not have concerns so long as he kept his sin in Vashti, behind closed doors, that he made sure there was no proof of it that could be used against him. However, he broke those terms. He confessed to his sins in front of Gelen the Green and the Rose Court. There was nothing I could do."

"Nothing you could do?" Lyr's voice shakes. "You are the Emperor of Azuria." Lyr speaks in a tone that would probably have meant instant death under any other circumstances .

"I am still only a man," says Selim. He touches Lyr's cheek. "And every man is a servant of Zai."

"He almost died," says Lyr. He feels strange. Shaky and tired. He isn't sure if he wants to sleep or run screaming from the room.

"Before you are exiled, I will have these examined," Selim says, tracing a finger down the runes on Lyr's arm. "I promised Damon I would never come to you for more information about Jareleezi, and I do not break my word. But you display her witchcraft so publicly. I have been informed that these writings are in Ur-Ambolk."

Lyr says nothing, but his face must have betrayed him, because Selim says, "Ah, you believed no one in Azuria understood Ur-Ambolk? We are perhaps more wise in your heathen ways than you know."