A Crown Imperilled

CHAPTER TWENTY

Soldiers marched.

The procession that would carry King Gregory back to Rillanon to be interned in the Vault of Kings moved down the long winding street from palace to dockside. Hal watched from a window in the palace, a window in the room belonging to Duke James of Rillanon.

The old duke, his grandson Jim, and the magician Ruffio stood nearby watching the passing funeral parade. Turning away from the window, Hal looked at Lord James who said, ‘We don’t have much time, my lord.’

Hal was still struggling to accept his rank as being equal to the man who addressed him. Lord James was arguably the most powerful noble in the Kingdom, especially now that the King had died without naming an heir.

‘You must decide and quickly,’ said Jim to Hal.

‘I honestly don’t know what to do,’ Hal replied.

Duke Jamison had been a powerfully built soldier in his younger days, but even now as he entered the twilight of his life he was a presence to be reckoned with, and he had been the one to ask for this meeting. He held up a fist and shook it for emphasis. ‘Even as we speak, Prince Oliver of Simrick will be almost certain to be on a ship heading for Rillanon and the Congress of Lords. Three days after Gregory is interred in the royal vault, the Congress will meet and those claiming the crown will step forward. You must be there.’

‘But my ancestor, the first Martin-’

‘Damn it, boy,’ said James, ‘I know history as well as the next man, and your great-however-many-grandfather did a noble thing for his brother. Yes, it’s a bastard line, made legitimate by a death-bed pronouncement, but that doesn’t make you any less a conDoin and as strong a claimant as any.’

‘Prince Edward-’ began Hal.

‘Will not stand for the crown,’ interrupted James. ‘He has publicly and often said he only took the position in Krondor as a favour to his cousin Gregory. He will watch from the gallery like every other member of the Congress, but if the Ishapian priests lay the crown at his feet he’d not stoop to pick it up.’

‘Me, King?’ said Hal.

Jim said, ‘Most likely not. But without you there, we face the danger of someone else declaring for you, in your name, as a means to broker influence. Montgomery will stand as the first alternative to Oliver. He’s a court-bred creature and has many friends, but until this moment no influence to speak of.’

‘And Lord Chadwick told me he prayed not to have the office fall to him.’

‘Ha!’ answered James. ‘That old fraud would sell his grandmother for the crown. Don’t let Chad’s affability and easy manner gull you, lad. He’s already counting who he can pry away from Montgomery’s faction to back his claim, and who among Oliver’s followers might be bribed or bullied to switch their votes. You stand as an honest alternative, or at least as honest as we’ll ever get in our nation. You’re a Westerner, and the last King to come from the Western Realm proved a most able and beloved ruler, Lyam. His brother was a genius and Arutha’s son Borric was a fine king. After that …’ He shrugged.

Jim said, ‘No one expects you to be named, but if you are not there …’ He glanced at Duke James. ‘Grandfather is right. You may be able to hold enough votes to prevent the sort of deals that will ultimately harm the Kingdom. Some of the eastern lords will care not a whit that your duchy is occupied by Keshian Dog Soldiers nor that the city of Ylith is split down the middle, one half Empire, the other Kingdom. They will be looking for patents of title and grants of land in the east in exchange for their votes. Some of the eastern lords have friends in Great Kesh who would count it a personal favour if the new king merely grants Kesh her conquests and moves on.’ Pointing his finger at Hal, he said, ‘You would then be a duke without a duchy. You could move to Krondor, I guess, and become a court noble, but who knows who the new prince in Krondor will be and what sort of role he might see for you?’

‘My personal circumstance is of no importance to me,’ said Hal. ‘The plight of my people is. Crydee must be restored.’

‘Only the King can do that,’ said Jim. ‘You must speak to Oliver and Montgomery and Chadwick and see where they stand regarding the Far Coast and the West.’

‘And realize they’ll be lying to you every time you see their mouths open,’ added James. ‘But promises are political capital in Rillanon and if the new king reneges on promises to gain the office, he will have none and his reign will be bumpy. All three know that. Plan your move wisely, and pick the man you think will help you get your duchy back, and pledge your allegiance to him.’

Hal looked at Jim who nodded in agreement. ‘Very well,’ said Hal. He turned and looked at Ruffio. ‘What about you?’ Ruffio had told Hal of the Conclave and its role in Kingdom history, and after a long discussion the night before, Hal now considered himself more rural and ignorant than he had on the first day of classes at the University at Roldem. His view of the world had grown so much bigger in the last two days that he wasn’t sure he was equal to the task.

Ruffio smiled. ‘The Conclave has other concerns than who sits the throne of the Isles, but we will have agents there to ensure the election of a new king goes without magical interference. The political manipulation of the last few years and the war show that our enemies seek to reduce this continent, perhaps the entire world, to a state of chaos.’

‘What about your master, Pug?’ asked Hal.

‘I have prepared a report which is making its way to him even as we speak, and I am sure he will act with appropriate haste to enable us to seek out those behind the atrocities committed in the Great Hall.’ When the carnage was over, a duke of Roldem, several nobles of Kesh and the Kingdom, half a dozen retainers and eight guards had been slaughtered by the death-dancers.

As King Carol was in his own apartment surrounded by his personal guards, and Emperor Sezioti was guarded in his apartment preparing for departure, all communication between the three nations had been handled by the Dukes of Roldem and Rillanon, and the Prince of Great Kesh.

Ruffio said, ‘I will accompany you, if you have no objection, Lord Henry, and there will be others there as well to protect and serve the Crown.’ With a confidence Hal wished he possessed as well, the young magician said, ‘No death-dancer or other agent of mayhem will disturb the Congress of Lords.’

‘I’ll have to find a ship,’ said Hal. ‘The King’s is at capacity, I’ve been told.’

James laughed. ‘Ha, that bastard Chadwick, no doubt.’ He put his hand on the younger man’s shoulders. ‘You’re a duke, Hal. From a line of kings. No man in the Kingdom stands above you, but your lord king and his appointed prince in Krondor. Other than that, you can tell the rest of us to go dance if you’ve a mind to.’ Hal smiled. ‘No one tells you there’s no room on the King’s ship. If you have to pitch some vassal baron over the side to make room, that’s what you do.’

Hal laughed at that. ‘Then I best see to it.’

‘No need,’ said Ruffio. ‘I can get you to Rillanon in a moment.’ With a smile and a slightly theatrical bow, he added, ‘Whenever it suits you. We can linger here three more days and still arrive in Rillanon before the King’s ship.’

James tilted his head as he looked at his grandson. ‘Planning?’

‘Needed,’ answered Jim. ‘Let’s school this lad and then we’ll all go to Rillanon together.’

‘You’ll all go,’ said James, motioning for a page to bring him his cloak. ‘As Duke of Rillanon, my place is beside my king, as tedious as this next journey may be. I will sit the death watch with him from here to the family vault.’ He kissed his grandson lightly on the cheek. ‘You were always a sweet boy, Jimmy, despite being a constant pain in the backside.’

Jim hugged his grandfather in return. ‘If Father’s stories are to be believed, no more so than you and Great-uncle Dash were to Great-grandfather Arutha.’

‘Well,’ said the old Duke, ‘I was younger then.’

They laughed and the Duke departed. Jim turned and rubbed his hands together, looking out of the window. Then he turned to a servant and said, ‘Wine, please, chilled white. Fruit, cheese, hot bread, a roasted chicken and once it’s served we are not to be disturbed unless it’s by royal order.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘We have a very short time and much to teach you about Kingdom politics, Hal,’ Jim said. ‘I hope you’re a good student.’

Hal sat, shaking his head. ‘That would be Martin. I’m the brawler.’

Jim nodded. ‘As long as you’re not a stupid brawler, and you listen closely to what Ruffio and I will try to teach you, we should have a chance.’

‘Chance for what?’ asked Hal.

‘A chance to save the Kingdom from its own worst impulses.’

Martin looked up as Brendan walked into the room. Life in Ylith was beginning to return to something close to normal, or as normal as it could get with half the city occupied with Keshians. But some townspeople had returned from the forests, and the first ship from Sarth had put in a few hours before.

A Keshian cutter had also arrived, but anchored outside the harbour and sent a longboat ashore to the Keshian side of the docks.

‘Orders from the Prince,’ said Brendan, dropping the packet on the table before Martin.

‘Finally, something to do,’ he said. The terror and chaos of the battle had been replaced at first by relief, then boredom as the two sides stared at one another across a thirty-foot wide patch of city market that acted as a no-man’s land between the lines.

He opened the packet, breaking the seal of the Prince of Krondor and read. After a minute, he shook his head. ‘This is amusing. I am named Acting Commander of the garrison.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Brendan wryly.

‘And I’m relieved of duty.’

‘What?’

Martin stood up. ‘We are ordered to Krondor to report in person to the Prince.’

Brendan said, ‘Is that a good idea?’

‘As long as our Keshian friends don’t start any trouble, Bolton should be able to handle things.’

Brendan suddenly looked concerned and Martin smiled. ‘Give it up. She’s been playing the two of you off against each other, but she’s got her eyes set on our young captain. Besides, not only are you too young to settle down, you’re the younger brother to a Duke and you’ll do as you’re told.’

Brendan fixed his older brother with a sardonic expression. ‘Really, and just who gave you leave to woo Lady Bethany?’

‘I’ll sort that out with Hal when I see him,’ said Martin, fastening his sword belt around his waist. ‘Now, you find yourself a girl like her, and I’ll fight to the death for your right to wed her.’

Brendan chuckled. ‘Fair point.’ Then he grinned. ‘Still, I don’t envy you being the one to tell her you’re leaving and she’s staying here.’

‘She’ll understand. Besides, someone has to make certain Bolton doesn’t foul things up.’

‘How do we travel?’

‘Horse,’ said Martin. ‘Our mounts are growing lazy. We’ll each take two and switch as we go. Five days to Sarth, perhaps six, then a fast boat to Krondor to see what Prince Edward wishes of us.’

Bethany was not pleased to be left behind, as Brendan had predicted, but as the brothers were getting ready to ride out early the next day, a guard came running to the stables behind the mayor’s house. ‘Sir, Captain Bolton needs you at the barricade!’

Both brothers mounted up and rode to the barricade.

‘The Keshians appear to be withdrawing, sir,’ the captain reported as they arrived.

Martin stared beyond the barricade and indeed, the Keshians were marching in formation towards the city gate. Martin called for two soldiers to make an opening in the barricade and they quickly pulled them away. Even so, Martin rode impatiently over two remaining levels of bags before they could finish. Seeing no opening in the corresponding Keshian barricade he spurred his mount on, shifted his weight forward and urged his horse to jump the barricade.

He trotted up behind the marching Keshians and passed them. Reaching the main gate he found the Keshian commander and his officers gathered nearby watching as troops from his half of the city were exiting. Reining in, he said, ‘Leaving?’

The Keshian commander nodded. ‘Such are our orders, young lord. It is the pleasure of His Majesty, the Emperor of Great Kesh, blessings be upon him, that we return Yabon to you, and withdraw to the border of Bosania.’ He pointed at a hill top. ‘Which is over there, if the ancient maps are correct.’ With a rueful smile he said, ‘Congratulations on your victory, young lord. You have achieved the reclaiming of Yabon without losing a man.’

‘If I were in the mood to appreciate the levity, sir, I would laugh. As it is, I’ve lost too many good men to your emperor’s adventure. Now, if I may ask, why is he conceding a hard-won victory?’

The commander held out his hands and shrugged. ‘I am not privy to such reasons, Lord Martin. I merely receive orders and obey them. It was never my wish to come to this land, but it was my duty. You do understand duty?’

Martin nodded. ‘As such things go.’ Turning his horse, he said, ‘Let us hope we never again need face one another on the field of battle, sir.’

‘If we do, I will count it an honour.’

Martin left the Keshians to their withdrawal and returned to his own lines. To Bolton he said, ‘The Keshians have orders to withdraw about three or four miles south-west, to the old border between Bosania and Yabon. As soon as they’re out of the city, sweep the area they occupied and make sure they left no spies behind, then rebuild that wall and gate as fast as you can. I’ll urge the Prince to send reinforcements back and perhaps even return the Duke here. The worst of this may be over. But it also may just be a lull. Be alert and take care of your city, Captain Bolton.’

‘Yes, sir!’ replied the eager young officer.

‘And take care of Lily,’ added Brendan with a wry smile.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Bolton with the grin of a victor.

The two brothers turned their mounts and started toward the east gates, and their trip to Krondor.

Pug and Miranda sat alone in the quarters put aside for the four humans — at least that’s how the Pantathians saw them — as Nakor had decided to explore this alien city. Magnus had not returned since his confrontation with his father.

Miranda felt her heart breaking to see her husband this way, and even though she knew those emotions were not her natural legacy, nevertheless they hurt.

‘Magnus was always … quiet,’ she said. ‘He kept things inside. But when he finally showed his feelings, they were always deep and powerful.’

Pug nodded. He struggled to adjust to the knowledge that the woman opposite him wasn’t the person in the world he most wanted her to be. Yet with each moment of comfort she brought, he felt another pang of emptiness, of longing for a time before her death. ‘I think he learned that from me.’

She smiled. ‘Well, he certainly didn’t learn it from me — from Miranda. My understanding is that Magnus’s mother was not one to hide her feelings on any subject.’

Pug said, ‘If it makes things easier, you can continue to refer to yourself as Miranda. I know those memories aren’t yours, but they must feel as if they are. I remember talking to your father — Miranda’s father-’ He laughed. ‘Now I’m doing it. I remember Macros not believing he hadn’t been reborn as a Dasati with all his memories intact. He was … in the end, Macros.’

‘Even the ancient Blind God of Chaos doesn’t play as fast and loose with people’s lives as Kalkin does. Mythar merely unravelled the fabric of existence and let the pieces fall where they might, but Kalkin, he picks his targets and has no concerns over their plight.’

‘Magnus is right on one count,’ Pug said.

‘Which?’

‘That I sacrifice others for what I believe is a “higher good”.’

She nodded. ‘Doing the right thing has always been the heart of who you are. Why do you think I built up my own little network of agents within the Conclave?’

‘I’ve always wondered. At times I questioned your agenda.’

‘It was to have a separate source of information, one that didn’t pass through that prism in your head, the one that always casts light a certain way, red at one end, violet at the other? Only your prism is always “right” at one end and “wrong” at the other.’

Pug nodded, sipping a cup of tea. ‘You always were more pragmatic.’

‘I’m older,’ she quipped. Both of them had lived over a century, but one of the continuing jests between them was that Miranda would never tell Pug exactly how much older she was. Nakor had married Miranda’s mother for a time, while she learned all she could of magic from him, then she had moved on to Macros, the master magician in the world at that time, to glean what she could from him. Miranda had been the offspring of that union, and with both her parents dead, she was the only person who knew the truth.

Pug laughed. ‘I have missed you.’

She held up her hand. ‘Be cautious, Pug. My feelings are as deep as your own and I would like nothing more than to drag you off to bed and relive some of the happiest moments in my life. But I suspect that would not be a good idea.’

Pug said nothing.

‘I ache to have Magnus embrace me as his mother, just one more time, and I hurt whenever I think of Caleb. But Kalkin did not bring my memories back and place them in his body just so you and I could have a joyful reunion. He placed them here so that Nakor and I can help with whatever needs to be done to save this world. For I am certain we are at a crux, and that the outcome of it all is going to determine the measure of life on this planet, and perhaps a larger portion of this universe.’

From behind them, they both heard Magnus. ‘I agree.’

They turned to see their son standing in the doorway.

Looking at Miranda, Magnus said, ‘You have no more control over who you are than I do. You are as much a victim of this cruel jest as my father and me. Kalkin burdened you with the loves and loss of another and you feel that as strongly as if it were your own, and I do not envy you this.’ Then he looked at his father. ‘I have not changed my opinion on your choices, but I honour your willingness to give all to protect others. But ultimately, it is my feeling that we are indeed at a crux and that whatever forces have been gathering out there in the universe have picked Midkemia as their battleground. I believe that the final conflict is underway.’ He sat between them and added, ‘I too must serve in the best fashion I know how.’

Pug reached out and touched his son’s shoulder. ‘We are free to disagree, but I will never turn my back on you, Magnus.’

Son studied father for a moment, weighing if that was a reproof of his behaviour the night before, or if it was reassurance. He chose to accept the second meaning. ‘I know, Father.’

At that moment Nakor hurried in. ‘Oh, good, you’re all here. Come, I have something to show you. You must see this.’

Without waiting to see if they were following, he hurried out of the room and almost lost them when he entered a busy plaza. Reaching a large building Pug had never seen before, he went inside. They followed him in.

Shelves from floor to ceiling lined the wall and scroll cases were piled in racks across the floor. ‘It’s a library!’ said Nakor with delight. ‘These Pantathians have a library.’

‘Is there anything in there-’ began Magnus.

‘About the Sven-ga’ri?’ finished Nakor. ‘No, not directly, but there were clues in their oldest records. These people have been here a long time. A very long time. I think for many years they were like those Quor, up in the north: primitives, but as they became more civilized, more self-sufficient, they still had this one prime mandate, to care for those … whatever the Sven-ga’ri are.’

Having less patience than the others, Miranda said, ‘What have you found, you annoying little man? You wouldn’t bring us here if you didn’t have something to show off!’

Nakor smiled and cocked his head. ‘True.’ He picked up a scroll and said, ‘Look.’

Pug glanced at it and said, ‘I’ve never seen this language before, Nakor.’

‘Neither have I,’ answered the little gambler, ‘but you can read any language if you know the trick.’

Magnus said, ‘That’s a trick I would like to learn.’

‘I’ll teach you sometime,’ he said.

‘What is in there?’ asked Pug.

‘It’s just a clue, but it’s a really big clue.’ Nakor sat down on the floor and the others took that as a cue that he was about to launch into a long discussion. ‘We assumed the Dragon Lords created or found those things on the roof of that building because they ordered the Sun Elves to protect the Quor who are protecting the Sven-ga’ri, right?’

Pug nodded.

‘This,’ Nakor pointed to the scroll, ‘says, “and then where found, they remain, by order of those …” I think it means gods-brothers/sisters, or something about Alma-Lodaka and her relatives. Dragon Lords. Don’t you see? It’s something they found.’

‘The Sven-ga’ri pre-date the Dragon Lords?’ asked Magnus.

‘Or are at least contemporaneous with them,’ said Nakor. He looked very pleased with himself. ‘They’ve been around a very long time, back to before the Chaos War, I think.’ He waved his hand in an arc over his head. ‘Dragon Lords, the gods, the golden bridges, all of that was happening while those singing lumps of light were over there.’ He grinned. ‘Wonderful, isn’t it?’

‘Nice to know,’ said Miranda, ‘but where does it get us?’

‘It makes me think the Dragon Lords didn’t put guards around the Sven-ga’ri to protect them, but to keep others from accessing them. I think the Quor and these Pantathians have been around them so long they don’t even remember why they were put there. The Sun Elves certainly forgot what they were doing there. And the Star Elves don’t even remember them, nor do any of the spellweavers in Elvandar. I don’t know about the moredhel.’ He shrugged. ‘I could go ask Arkan, I suppose, but I doubt he knows.’

‘Arkan?’ asked Pug.

‘Oh, didn’t I mention?’ said Miranda. ‘A moredhel chieftain is staying on the Island.’

‘You did forget to mention that,’ said Pug. ‘And who is keeping an eye on him while you’re here?’

‘Calis.’

‘That could prove amusing,’ said Magnus.

Pug stood up and said, ‘All very interesting, Nakor, but I’m not sure how it’s going to serve us.’

‘Maybe we should just be more cautious,’ said Miranda.

Pug nodded and glanced at Magnus. ‘You’re the best with protective spells.’

Magnus said, ‘I won’t argue.’

Miranda laughed. ‘It’s good …’ She let the thought go unfinished. It was a life that was not her own.

The portal room was supposed to be unoccupied, by order of the Lord Regent, but two figures approached in the dead of night. Tanderae, Loremaster of the Clan of the Seven Stars moved quietly and quickly along the shadows of the wall. One step behind him was a guard captain of the Sentinels, Egun by name. Tanderae had asked him to accompany him this night because he was certain he was above reproach in his loyalty to the Clan of the Seven Stars and not subject to the politics of the Regent’s Meet.

He needed a witness to bear out what he had been uncovering for a year, and it had to be someone unimpeachable. The two brothers, the conjurer Laromendis and the Demon Master Gulamendis, both understood what was taking place, but they were considered questionable witnesses at best: Laromendis was rumoured to have been a member of the Circle of Light, and had been outlawed by the Lord Regent decades before, while his brother trafficked with demons; so no more need be said.

But the young captain of Sentinels was the soul of integrity and if he bore witness to what Tanderae suspected was taking place tonight, the Loremaster would have the proof he needed to save his people from betrayal at the highest level.

Weeks before, Tanderae, Gulamendis, and his human colleague Amirantha, had been summoned to this very building because of an attempt by the demon host, as they thought, to locate them. Instead they had seen something far more terrifying than a Demon King, for a Dreadlord had hovered briefly on the other side of the portal.

Since that night the Lord Regent had ordered the building emptied and the power to the portals deactivated, but several times Tanderae had seen figures entering and leaving late at night when most of the residents of E’bar were asleep.

A few nights earlier, Tanderae had discovered that one of the figures he had seen was the Lord Regent himself. He had followed him into the building unobserved and what he witnessed had frightened him in a way he could never have imagined before, not even having fought demons across the stars.

Now, on stealthy feet, they entered the main hall and moved to the entrance to the main portal chamber. At the far end they saw the Lord Regent place a crystal in the base of the portal and watched as energy gathered between the pillars to form an opalescent surface. The energy swirled and then resolved into a black form of woeful countenance, a thing man-like in shape, but without discernible features. Around its head burned a crown of flames, yet they appeared to give off no light. Eyes like red-hot coals gazed out at the now-prone form of the Lord Regent.

Words were exchanged in a language neither Tanderae or the Sentinel captain could understand, but the very sound of them caused the flesh on his neck and arms to gather prickle, as if a frigid cold swept through the hall.

After some time the vision in the portal vanished. Tanderae and Egun stepped back quickly, and hurried to the entrance. ‘Do you understand what you just witnessed?’ asked the Loremaster.

‘I am not sure,’ said the captain. ‘What manner of being was that, and why would any Lord Regent prostrate himself before any but our true king?’

Upon rejecting the Queen of Elvandar as not being the true ruler of the Star Elves, the taredhel had decreed that the Lord Regent was the supreme authority in E’bar. The captain was confused and his expression revealed it.

‘What you witnessed was something from the Forbidden!’ hissed Tanderae.

The Forbidden was lore that pre-dated the flight of the Star Elves from Midkemia to their home among the stars, ages before. Only a few high ranking members of the Regent’s Meet, such as the Loremaster and the captain, even knew that the Forbidden existed. Fewer still knew what the hidden lore was.

‘You speak of treason,’ hissed the captain as they hastened away from the building.

‘It is the Regent is commits treason. As you say, to whom would he kneel and place his forehead on the stone, as if to worship? That thing within the portal is an enemy more vicious than the Demon Legion. It is a living hate from ancient times.’

‘How do we proceed if what you say is true?’

‘We must find another who can be trusted.’ Tanderae declared. ‘Laromendis and Gulamendis both know the truth, but their word would be given scant weight in testimony.’

‘Even if another could be found, who would try the Lord Regent? The Meet is chosen by his hand. You stand alone, because of your guild’s history, and you would be a voice alone, as would I.’

‘Who among the Sentinels can you trust?’

‘Now you speak of civil war?’

‘I speak of saving the race,’ said the Loremaster.

‘There is another way, but I fear it will bear consequences as dire as any other.’

‘What is that?’

‘Call to Tomas of Elvandar. Have him return and then show him what is in the portal.’

Tanderae was silent, standing in the darkness, and after a moment he said, ‘That is another part of the Forbidden.’

‘But it stands before us in the flesh, and who can deny him? He is an Ancient One and if he says that what we saw is also of the Forbidden, no voice would be raised to defend the Lord Regent. He would be judged guilty by all.’

‘I will think about it,’ said Tanderae. ‘I will send the brothers abroad, so they may make their way to Elvandar. They will not be missed. I thank you for your wisdom, Egun.’

‘I will speak carefully with a few I trust, so if it comes to a confrontation we will not stand alone, but this must wait until you have summoned the Valheru.’ The captain turned and vanished into the night.

Tanderae had a high opinion of Tomas. He had arrived for his first visit on the back of a golden dragon, but his demeanour had been deferential and respectful of the life the taredhel had found for themselves. He had bid them to visit Elvandar at their pleasure and made no claims of sovereignty, merely welcoming them home as lost kin. But he was Valheru, and all that meant in the fibre of any elf’s being. He was one of their ancient enslavers, the pillagers of their labours and despoilers of their very bodies when the mood suited them. They were evil in every way imagined; yet Tomas was not like that.

Battling within himself, Tanderae hurried off on his own errand, to find the two brother elves and send them off to seek help in saving E’bar and all who lived there.

Hal stood silently, looking out over the ocean as the sun set. It had been decided he’d avail himself of Ruffio’s means to travel to Rillanon, getting him there a day before the King’s ship arrived. Tradition had the King lie in state three days before being sealed up in the vault of his ancestors, and then the Congress of Lords would meet, and the serious business of choosing a new king would be underway.

Ty had agreed to travel with him, and he was glad, for despite his sudden immersion in all things politic at the ungentle hands of Jim Dasher Jamison, Ty was well practised in the ins and outs of court life and would be a valuable ally.

A soft sound from behind caused him to turn. Stephane had somehow stolen her way into his quarters and now stood regarding him with accusing eyes. ‘You haven’t come to see me,’ she said as if it were a crime of the highest order.

‘I’ve been very busy,’ he said, and realized there were few worse things he could have said. He tried to clarify his statement. ‘I mean, I wanted to see you, but with the Congress of Lords gathering in Rillanon to chose a new king, I have much to learn and …’ He saw the amendment was getting him nowhere.

‘You should stay here.’ It wasn’t a question or request, but a statement.

‘I want to,’ he said softly, ‘or at least I want to be where you are.’

She took a step and suddenly was in his arms, squeezing him tightly. ‘Mother told me about your “chat”, and that she liked you very much as a result. Father saw how brave you were protecting everyone in the great hall. You are a duke, even if your duchy is full of Keshians, and my father would find you a place in court, I know it. Please, stay.’

His heart broke. ‘I can’t. I am related by blood to the crown of the Isles. It is my duty to go and elect the new king.’

‘Will I ever see you again?’

He stepped back slightly, took her chin in his hand and said, ‘That, Highness, is a certainty.’ He kissed her and without another word she turned and fled, tears running down her face.

Hal stood still for a long time, the pain in his soul as deep and sharp as when he had learned of his father’s death. At last, he crossed to a door and opened it, finding a servant waiting on the other side. ‘Send for Lord Tyrone and the magician Ruffio,’ he ordered. ‘It’s time to leave.’