Coalition of Lions Read Free Page B

them, but even he did not know them all: zebra, giraffe.
    “These are my favorite,” Telemakos said: a lion and lioness.
    “Leo,” I said. “Llew, in my mother’s native dialect.”
    Telemakos placed the lion on my open palm.
    “That’s why Father called my brother Lleu the young lion, sometimes,” I said softly, “though his name really means the Bright One. Llew: leo: anbessa.”
    I held the wooden lion before me in my cupped hand. Its painted mane was black; its carved jaw was caught midsnarl, showing white teeth.
    “Caleb had to wrestle a lion to prove he was strong enough to be emperor,” Telemakos said.
    “He had to catch it,” Kidane corrected.
    “His lions were tame. They ate from his hands.”
    “They were not tame,” Priamos said quietly. “They were chained.”
    Telemakos took back his lion and put it on the floor in file beside its mate at the head of his pageant. He bent his head over the animals.
    “They were tame,” he insisted.
    His clear voice softened with something like adoration. “Caleb let me touch them, before you took them to Britain. He let me stroke their manes, after I was presented to him last new year. Are they still in Britain?”
    “They were destroyed when my father’s estate was burned,” I said. “I’m sorry, my love. There was a battle, and my parents and brothers were killed. That is why I came here.”
    “Oh.” Telemakos tapped his wooden lions with the palm of his hand, then closed the hand into a fist and laid it in his lap. He asked slowly, “Are all the high king’s children killed, then?”
    “All but I,” I answered.
    Telemakos held still, bent over his lions. If it dawned on him that I had just told him his father was dead, he did not draw attention to it. “You were lucky to get away,” he said at last.
    “I must go back,” I told him.

CHAPTER II
Ella Amida
    “P RINCESS GOEWIN. THE VICEROY sends to tell you he is at your service.”
    The courtier who knelt before me was no older than I. He was dressed like Kidane, with a shamma overmantle and head cloth of closely woven linen, except that this young man’s head cloth was banded with ribbons of silver mesh.
    “This is Ityopis Anbessa,” said Kidane, “another of the brothers lionheart.”
    “Please don’t kneel,” I repeated. His formality infected everyone. Kidane and Priamos were on their feet, and Telemakos knelt on both knees with his face in his hands. What a trial it must be, I thought, to be six and not quite royal, and to have to throw yourself on the floor whenever any adult walks into the room. Father had never demanded such ceremony of me or Lleu.
    Ityopis stood up. The brothers lionheart faced each other.
    “Hornbill!” Ityopis cried in delight, and they caught each other’s shoulders and touched cheek to cheek. “I did not know you had been sent for!”
    Priamos did not meet his brother’s eyes. “I have not been sent for,” he answered. “I came here as guide and translator for the princess, but no one sent for me.”
    “And you trusted him, Princess?” Ityopis was laughing. “‘Have no trust in translators,’ that is what our uncle the emperor Caleb would have told you. Though he had Abreha in mind when he said it, I think, not Priamos Hornbill.”
    “Abreha?” I asked.
    “The self-styled king of Himyar,” Kidane said. “The victorious pretender.”
    “He who won the battle against Ras Priamos,” Telemakos supplied, the gap in his teeth making him whistle over Priamos’s name.
    “Abreha’s title is not self-styled,” Priamos said with his habitual scowl, though his voice was mild enough. “He was elected.”
    “Let’s not talk of Himyar,” Ityopis said quickly. “My fault for speaking Abreha’s name. Our mother the queen of queens will have to call me Hornbill instead of you, Priamos. Has he explained why the queen of queens names him Hornbill, Princess—”
    “Because I look like one,” Priamos interrupted, his heavy brow lowered