Haydn of Mars (33 page)

Jamie was about to speak but I held up my hand, suddenly tired.

“We will speak of these things again.
 
I'm afraid I must rest now.”

The meeting adjourned, but Jamie, as I expected, stayed behind.

Lying back on my pillow, half closing my eyes, I smiled at my old page.
 
“I know how you feel,” I said, feeling even more tired than I had a moment before.
 
“Believe me, I've always known how you feel.
 
But I believe in my heart that I am on the right course.”

“Your father was a fool, but not a complete one,” Jamie said.
 
He could not hide the bitterness in his voice.
 
“He knew as soon as he declared the republic that he had made a mistake.
 
But by then, it was too late.
 
It is the
monarchy
that will bring stability to the planet.
 
Do you really think the people have changed all that much since the recent F'rar atrocities that they are ready for self-determination again?”

“All I can say is that I hope so,” I replied.
 
“It has been my belief from the beginning.”

There was silence, and I opened my eyes to see Jamie glaring at me, his paws clenched.
 
He turned and stalked out of the room.
 

“My Queen, I fear you are a bigger fool than your father.”

I lay back, and let out a long breath.
 
I could feel the stirrings of life within me.
 
One of the kits – I was sure there were at least two – gave me a kick that almost tickled.

I gave a short laugh.
 

“I will see you before too long, little one,” I whispered, feeling the cool breeze of the afternoon wash over me from the open window.
 
I was drifting off to sleep and it felt like luxury.
 
“And then perhaps you and I will make them all understand...”

It was a glorious spring.
 
Perhaps the creator had looked down on us, and seen us a good people, worthy of beauty and trust.
 
Or perhaps, as Newton claimed, always in his wry, fatherly way, we were lucky with meteorological patterns and would doubtless be unlucky again in future springs.

Whatever the cause, I reveled in it.
 
This litter, I found, was much harder to carry than the first.
 
Also, I was not as young as I had been.
 
I felt weary much of the time, and was confined to bed for long stretches.
 
Also, due to Newton's scolding, I gave up my precious cigarettes.
 
But the glorious weather – cool fresh mornings, a light, warm wind in the afternoons carrying the scent of blooming flowers, followed by windless cool nights resplendent with stars – made the lassitude not only bearable but enjoyable.
 
I felt almost like a kit myself again.

Work on the new Hall of Assembly was going splendidly.
 
On days when I did feel up to travel I allowed myself to be transported the short distance to the site and watch the work commence.
 
The new building, of pink sandstone, was covered by a web of scaffolding, but one could see it taking shape: a tall, plain, proud structure, devoid of ornamentation save for the edifice itself, which would end at its apex with a point.
 
In symbolism, it would point to the heavens and to the future.
 
These words, and none other, would be carved above its doors.

Since work had now risen above the intervening rooftops, on days when I could not visit I could now watch the progress from my own window.
 
It would not be long before that finishing spire was set in place, and the Second Republic of Mars could be declared.

I had spent nearly all of my intervening time on the declaration I would make in a matter of weeks.
 
I had decided that on the very day of my coronation, I would dissolve the monarchy.
  
It would be a fitting end, and a fitting beginning.
 
After much consultation and thought, I had decided that the seeds of the first republic lay in its very formation.
 
A hall of squabbling senators could never rule effectively, but they could rule as
part
of a government, as one arm held in check by others.
 
I contemplated an Assembly of the People which would break the rule of the clans by circumventing its leaders.
 
Only common citizens could be elected to it by other common citizens from their own region.
 
In addition, there would be a single Minister with little power save over the two governing bodies.
 
This Minister would be in effect a referee.
 
It was a fascinating concept, and I spent most of my waking hours refining it.

While doing so one fine day in our finest of springs, I was visited in the Queen's chamber by Pelltier the pirate.

I nearly burst into laughter when, after being announced, he entered.
 
He was dressed in a ridiculous getup, his or someone else's idea of formal clothes.
 
I had never met a man, except perhaps the Mighty, who was ever least disposed toward formal attire.

I could not help a single blurt of laughter, which made him frown.

“You don't approve, no?” he asked.
 
He could barely move his neck in the high collar he wore, over a stiff white shirt and brown breeches that looked newly woven, they were so stiff.
 
Even his boots looked new and uncreased by wear.

“Who dressed you?”

He scowled.
 
“I dress myself, my lady.”
 
He bowed.
 
“I also vow never to call you my girly again.”

He blushed, and I was so touched that my own wish to make fun of him vanished.

“What is it I can do for you today, Pelltier?”
 
A waft of flower-scented breeze washed over me, making me languidly sleepy.

“You work?” he said, pointing to the documents on the table before me and advancing in a stiff way.

“Yes, I work.
 
Why don't you remove those ridiculous boots?”

“He tell me I must dress like a gentleman to see the Queen.”

“Who is ‘he'?”

“The man he sell me dese clothes!”

I smiled.
 
“Well, Pelltier, it seems that for the first time in your life you have been pirated.”

He cocked his head, thinking, and then burst out laughing: “My lady is right!
 
I am robbed!”

With a scoffing motion, he unbuttoned the top of his collar and sat down on the floor.
 
With some effort, he pulled off his boots.

“That is much better!” he said with relief when he was done.

“I want to thank you for all your help at the Battle of Bradbury,” I said.

He stood, breathing easier, and waved a hand in dismissal.
 
“That is nothing.
 
I do it for you and would do it again.
 
You are my Queen.
 
And...”

“Yes?”

He suddenly fell to one knee.
 
“And I ask you for betrothal!”

I must have blinked, startled, because his face locked with determination and he crawled forward on his knees, holding his paws out.
 
“Betroth me, my Queen!”

“Pelltier, stand up!” I sputtered, trying to make it sound like a royal command.

He stood up quickly, nearly at eye level with me now.
 
His face looked tortured and confused.
 
“No woman has ever done these things to me before!
 
No woman has ever made me want to give up piracy and live as her complete slave!”

“Pelltier!”

“I do not care if you know it – if the world knows it!
 
I, Pelltier, love you, my Queen!
 
I would raise your kits as my own, and love them as much as I love you!
 
I have felt this way always!”

I had recovered somewhat.
 
I bade him sit down, which he did.
 
I reclined in my chair, feeling very much tired. Pelltier must have noticed this because he rushed to me, his face flushed with concern.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

“Yes, Pelltier.
 
Please, sit back down and we will talk.”

He did so, and began talking himself.
 
“Pelltier is so confused, my lady!
 
Ever since I see you again, on the field of battle, my mind is twirling like a child's top!
 
You must give me your answer!”

“I will give you my answer, Pelltier,” I said, calmly, “but first I must tell you that when I first met you I completely misunderstood your intentions.
 
I thought you wanted me for one of your...”
 
I waved my hand, trying not to say the word.

He barked a sudden laugh.
 
“Ha!
 
You think I want you for a concubine!
 
This is foolish!”

“Yes, it is foolish, but it is what I thought.
 
And now we have just met again recently, and I realize my mistake, and I now understand your intentions...”
 
Again I waved my hand, and suddenly his frown went away and he nodded.

“Ah, I see!
 
The lady does not wish to betroth her Pelltier!”

I said gently, “Actually, that is true...”

“I see!
 
Very well!”
 
He stood up briskly.
 
I thought he was angry but there was a look almost of relief on his face.
 
“Then I am free to go!”

“Of course you are free to go!
 
Why wouldn't you be?”

“If the lady had accepted my proposal, then Pelltier would have had to stay here, in the city of Wells, forever!
 
And it would unman him!”

“But I thought–”

He bowed.
 
“The lady will always be in my heart!
 
This will not change.”
 
When he looked up his eyes were hard and firm.
 
“I would do anything for you, my lady, anything to protect you.
 
Pelltier will always feel this way.
 
But now, after the ceremonies, I will return to the places I love, in the Northwest.”

Sensing his seriousness and the burdens of his heart, I did not smile and bowed my head.
 
I hoped I looked regal.

“Pelltier is a good servant and a good man.
 
And I am only sorry that my heart was not in the same place as his.”

He bowed again. “Thank you, my lady.”

He backed out of the room, spying his boots and then scuttling forward to grab them.
 
As he got to the door he turned his head up to me and smiled mischievously.
 
“And now, I shall visit that tailor, my lady,” he said with a wink, and withdrew.

I lay back, exhausted.

I could not wait for the moment of my coronation, so that I could immediately renounce it, and with it all the ceremony such as I had just endured.

Finally, the day of my kits' birthing arrived.

I was confined to bed for the entire last week, which came as a relief of sorts.
 
Jamie and my other advisors handled much of the day to day work, leaving me free to watch the completion of the new Hall of Assembly from my window.
 
Fittingly, the pointing spire was mounted on the very morning of the day I gave birth to my beautiful son and daughter.

Sebastian, named after Johann Sebastian Bach, the Old One composer in Newton's book, came first, and, by order of succession, this cursed him in my mind because, by rule of monarchy, he was firstborn.
 
And then my little Amy, named for Amy Beach, came.
 
Compared to the littering, the births were easy, and afterward, as I listened to their sweet mewling cries, I entered into a swoon such as I had never known, a dreamy place of serenity and contentment where the problems of my world receded to nonexistence.
 
One of the nursemaids told me that I had muttered Kerl's name in my half sleep, and this may very well have been so.
 
I resided in a sort of nirvana for a time, all of my memory's making, where my mother held me and my father beamed down on me with his stern wisdom, and all of the loves of my life stood round about me as I held my two new kits.
 
I awoke from this half dream to see that it was true to the extent that my two kits were swaddled beside me, clean and looking slick as little monkeys, their tiny pinched faces closed with slumber.
 
I held them so close that I felt their tiny ticking heartbeats.
 
For a while, the contentment of my dream was made real.