Free The Last King of Lydia by Tim Leach Page B

like an answering call. Though the tip had been carefully cleaned and polished, he recognized it for what it was.
    He placed the spear on the ground, and with one stamp of his foot, like a man who breaks the neck of a sick dog, he broke away the point. Croesus picked up the spearhead and placed it within the
folds of his robes, close to his heart. He walked away, and listened to the rush of the flames as the slaves cast their torches down, as the fire took what remained of his son. He did not stay to
watch.
    The priests made their final prayer, a plea for the Gods to be merciful and accept the prince’s soul, and the crowd gave a single, brief cry, like the first gasp of a child. Some remained
for a time to watch the flames, others left immediately and followed close behind the king. One by one, the mourners turned and made their way back towards the city.
    Up on the hills, a single figure watched the procession depart. Watched, and waited for the night to come.

9
    When, later, Iva entered Croesus’s private chamber, at first she could not see the king. A few small candles, lit and scattered seemingly at random, gave little light. As
her eyes adjusted to the near dark, she found him, seated in shadow, so still that she mistook him for a carved sculpture. He gestured silently for her to sit opposite him.
    ‘You asked for me?’ she said.
    ‘Yes, I did. Will you take some wine?’
    ‘I . . . yes.’ He poured out a cup, added the smallest trace of water to it, then placed it on the other side of the table. He did not pour any for himself.
    ‘You were very brave at the funeral today,’ he said. ‘It is not an easy thing to bury a husband.’
    ‘Not an easy thing to bury a son,’ she ventured.
    ‘Yes. Well.’ He looked down and picked absently at the engraving on the table. ‘Did he ever tell you that I dreamed of his death?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I suppose you laughed about it together. Laughed at me. The foolish thoughts of a silly old man.’
    ‘No. Atys would never laugh at you.’
    ‘I’m sure. I pressed him to marry young, you know. But he always refused the women I brought him. Fine ladies. Most of them from better families than yours. But he wanted to wait, to
marry for love. He loved you.’ He looked up from the table. ‘Did you love my son?’
    ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
    ‘Are you carrying his child?’
    She stared at him and said nothing.
    ‘I see I shall have to repeat myself. Are you carrying his child?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Are you sure? He did not leave so long ago. Perhaps—’
    ‘No. I am sure. I’m sorry.’
    ‘I see.’ He nodded slowly. ‘A shame. It would be better if there were a child.’ Croesus poured himself a cup of unwatered wine, and drank it down in a single draught.
‘What should I do? Leave my empire to my idiot son?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ She hesitated. ‘Perhaps your wife—’
    ‘My wife? No. Her womb is stopped. Since she gave birth to Gyges. He has been a curse in many different ways.’
    She said nothing.
    ‘It really would be better if you had a child.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    He hesitated. ‘You are very beautiful,’ he said.
    She looked to the door.
    ‘They won’t let you,’ he said. ‘The guards, I mean. Not without my order.’
    ‘My lord—’
    He poured her another cup. ‘Come. Drink with me. Don’t look so frightened. You misunderstand.’
    Her hand shook slightly, but steadied as she took the silver cup and drank deeply.
    ‘Was he kind to you, my son?’ the king said.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘He was shy when he was courting you, was he not?’
    She felt the ghost of a smile pass over her face. ‘Yes. I could not understand why the king’s son seemed so nervous around me. I thought that was just his way with
everyone.’
    ‘It was just for you. I hope he was not so shy when he took you as his wife.’
    She flinched. ‘My lord—’
    ‘Forgive me. I knew him so well when he was a boy. But they grow away from us, our children. There comes a