Free Lord of the Two Lands by Judith Tarr Page A

not been in her reckoning, when she took this duty to which she had been bred. That he would regard her as a friend. That she, who was nothing and no one in the gods’ eyes, should be glad of it; should think of him, in her turn, with friendship.
    Her tongue was in control of itself. It answered him coolly. It even managed, almost, to suppress the smile that rose from one of her more antic souls. “That would be interesting. The King of Macedon relegated to the post of lady’s maid.”
    He grinned, unabashed “Why not? Herakles did it, didn’t he? And I’m his seed.” His grin faded to a grimace. “I’d better go and be king now, before my kingdom gets away from me. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like. My brother would like it,” he added, with a glance at Arrhidaios.
    “Oh, yes!” Arrhidaios said. “Stay with me, please, Meri. Will you make your god come out again?”
    “If he wants to,” said Meriamon.
    Alexander smiled at them both, as proud as a matchmaker with a new match. “Good, then. I’ll leave you to it.”
    Clever man. He gave her time to recover her strength, and kept his brother occupied into the bargain. Peritas, at least, went out with his master, to Sekhmet’s vast relief. She spat once more to send him on his way, and promptly went to sleep.
    o0o
    Nikolaos was not amused. Nikolaos was loudly and lengthily displeased.
    He did not even notice that he was better. He had had one bad day and a wretched night; then, almost without transition, as such things sometimes did, his body decided to heal. He would be stiff for a while, and he would be in no condition to fight until his arm was knit, but he was mending. He could walk, with his ribs bound tight and his arm in a sling. He hurt, that was evident from the set of his jaw, but he did not speak of it. It was only pain. It was idleness that drove him wild.
    Until he was informed of his new duties. The message came from his captain, no less. “King’s orders,” the man said. There was nothing that Niko could say to that.
    After the man had left, Niko howled. Philippos himself cast him out of the hospital, roaring in his field-sergeant’s voice: “Out. Out! You’re making my sick sicker! Get out of my sight!”
    That at least Niko was delighted to do. Meriamon did not pursue him. He would slow down soon enough, once his hurts caught up with him.
    o0o
    When she came back to her tent toward evening, he was sitting in front of it. He was white around the lips, but he was steady enough. He was in armor except for the corselet. That lay on the ground with his shield under it and a pack beside it. Sekhmet leaned against his thigh as if to give him comfort.
    “Think of it this way,” Meriamon said. “You get to stay with the cat.”
    He glared under his brows. “Did you put him up to this?”
    “Who? The king?” She was ready to hit him, or Alexander, or both of them “Gods, no! Do you think I’d have asked for you?”
    That stopped him. He snapped erect, outraged; and gasped. He was not ready yet to move that quickly.
    “I’m no happier than you,’’ she said, “believe me.”
    “How can you—how can you dare—you—”
    “There. Look what you’ve done to yourself. That’s all you need to do, pop that rib and put yourself right back in the hospital. Philippos would not be happy at all.”
    His teeth clicked together. His rage was so vast, his outrage so profound, that for a moment she honestly feared that he would take a fit.
    Instead he went cold. For the first time that she could remember, he controlled himself. Slowly, carefully, he drew himself to his feet. He swayed. She did not offer to support him, although she watched him closely.
    He steadied. He drew a very cautious breath. “Nikolaos Lagides of the Royal Squadron, Companion Cavalry, detached”—that was bitter—”reporting for duty.”
    She would never let him see that he had surprised her. She inclined her head as a royal lady should. “I accept