“You should go, Paul,” Terris said, “and tell Natan to expect a summons from me.”
Paul Claymark pushed himself to his feet and almost sprinted out of the forum.
The Councilors watched him go for several moments before directing their attention to Gavin.
“Thank you for clarifying that matter for us, Scion,” the ancient Councilor said.
“Personally, I feel your response is a bit harsh,” Gavin replied. “Like I said, I instructed my people to leave them alone, and I feel confident the decision would’ve caught up with the Claymarks sooner or later…with no actions on my part or anyone else’s.”
“Perhaps,” Xask remarked, “but it was the response honor demanded of us. Patriarch Claymark needs to learn his actions have consequences. No one stands alone. But this unpleasantness has taken too much of our time. You must have come to us for a reason.”
Gavin chuckled. “I did, but I’m not sure that now is the best time to discuss it.”
“Nonsense,” the ancient Councilor countered. “Do not presume that our displeasure and anger with Claymark in any way carries over to you.”
“Oh, it isn’t that,” Gavin said. “This man on my right is Terris Muran, King of Vushaar and Natan Claymark’s son-in-law. Kiri—the young lady who was traveling with me when we met—is Natan’s granddaughter.”
The ambient temperature seemed to drop a little bit as the Councilors regarded Terris. The silence extended past the point of being ominous, and Gavin noticed Roth and his associate checking their surroundings out of the corners of their eyes.
“And just why should we entertain anything he has to say?” a Councilor asked.
“Well, for one thing,” Gavin answered, “he had no knowledge of Claymark’s actions, unless Kiri told him. I consider the matter to be between Natan Claymark and myself and, frankly, a non-issue. And second, Terris Muran is a good and honorable man who cares about being the best king he can be for his people. Third, it was my idea to ask for your help.”
“You would stand with him even after his father-in-law and largest grain producer treated you so?” Xask asked.
“Yes, I would. He’s good people.”
The Councilors looked to each other for a few moments. The ancient Councilor asked, “What aid do you seek?”
Gavin began, “There’s—”
“With all respect, Scion,” the ancient dracon interrupted, “it’s time for the Vushaari king to speak. We will hear his request out of respect for you, but that is as far as you can carry him.”
If Terris objected to their perception that Gavin carried him, it didn’t show. He squared his shoulders and said, “There is a large army encamped on the northern wall of the capital. It has been besieging the city, but so much of their force was slaves that it has devolved into little more than chaos with the destruction of the slave marks. Most of the Vushaari Army is involved in hunting bandits that thought the civil war provided an opportunity, and to be honest, I’m concerned for the former slaves’ safety in the siege camp. I hoped to ask if you might be able to help us restore order to the camp.”
The Councilors once more moved into a circle and discussed the matter in their language. This time, their deliberations were far briefer.
“We would be willing to assist you, were it not for the Claymark matter,” the ancient Councilor announced. “Perhaps, it is shortsighted of us, but we hold the Scion in such regard and esteem that it feels beyond wrong to help Vushaar in any way while Claymark’s dishonor remains. Once that is resolved, if you still need our help, communicate the resolution to us. If we find it appropriate, you shall have us.”
“I don’t want to seem like a villain here,” Gavin said, “but what of your obligations under the old alliance? The siege camp existed because the Necromancer of Skullkeep manipulated people within Vushaar to attempt a coup. To me, that seems like something the alliance should cover.”
“There may be some validity to what you say,” the ancient Councilor allowed, “but the old alliance has been little more than an historical footnote for centuries. The Claymark of a thousand years ago would never have dishonored your family, Scion, and that Patriarch Natan did it so readily speaks to the rot that has become inherent in our societies. If Vushaar chooses to demand our assistance under the terms of the old alliance without addressing Natan Claymark’s trespass, it would force us to convene a Grand Moot to discuss remaining a signatory to said alliance.”
Gavin hoped his reaction didn’t show on his face. He hadn’t realized the dracons would throw down a gauntlet like that, and even more, he knew they were serious. Gavin could tell they felt very strongly about what Claymark had done.
“I wouldn’t presume to try forcing your compliance with my wishes,” Terris replied. “For one thing, it’s not good diplomacy, and for a second, I’d rather have a chance at our peoples being friends, if at all possible. I give you my word that I will resolve the matter of Natan Claymark.”
“Very well,” the ancient Councilor said. “We will await word of your resolution.”
* * *
The Councilors sat in silence for a time after Gavin left with Terris and his Cavaliers. At last, one spoke.
“We should call a Grand Moot,” a Councilor said.
“Yes,” the ancient Councilor replied.
Xask frowned and asked, “Why? We should give the Vushaari king the chance to make this right.”
“Not for the matter of Claymark,” the ancient Councilor countered. “The Scion wore the gold robe. Bellos has at last named the Archmagister. It may be time for us to end our seclusion.”
Chapter 9
Kiri’s brow furrowed as she approached her father’s study. She knew he’d gone somewhere with Gavin but hadn’t realized he had returned. In truth, his summons was a bit more urgent than normal, and that worried her. She stepped into her father’s study and stopped. He looked…weary. What had Gavin done?
“You sent for me, Father?” Kiri asked as she approached.
Terris nodded and sighed. “Have a seat. There’s a matter we need to discuss.”
Kiri resisted the urge to work her lower lip between her teeth. Something had happened with Gavin. Still, she moved quickly to the chair beside her father and sat.
“What is it?” she asked. “What has Gavin done?”
“Nothing, actually,” Terris answered, giving a half-hearted chuckle. “He was actually rather adult about the whole affair. The dracons, on the other hand, were rather incensed.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Kiri said. “I don’t understand.”
Terris seemed to shake himself mentally before explaining, “Gavin and I went to ask the dracons for aid in policing up the former siege camp. Your uncle, Paul, was already there; apparently, Natan sent him to explore the possibility of trading with the dracons. Kiri, did your grandfather really ban Gavin from his lands?”
Kiri’s eyes shot wide as she connected the dots in an instant. “The dracons knew?”
“Somehow,” Terris said, nodding. “They did not hide the fact that it was only their respect and esteem for Gavin that stopped them from declaring war on Natan for his insult. A few of the Councilors even advocated sending back Paul’s corpse as their response.”
Kiri gaped and raised her hand cover her mouth.
Terris merely nodded. “Yes, I had a front-row seat to what I’m sure is one of the messiest situations I’ve ever faced as King of Vushaar. I’m going to have to discuss this with Natan. The dracons were prepared to leave the old alliance if I had tried to use it to force their assistance with this matter over Natan hanging out there.” Terris heaved another sigh. “Kiri, I know you love your grandfather, but he has always been a cantankerous reactionary, and very rigid in his beliefs and values. My father never made much noise about it, but he told me privately that it was almost as much Natan’s rigidity that created the Claymark/Roensil feud as Roensil’s actions. If Roensil hadn’t had anti-Crown leanings, there’s a good chance my father wo
uld have sided with him in the dispute. I’m worried most about Paul, though; the dracons told him to flee their lands and not sleep. It’s what…four, maybe five, days to the Vushaari border from Qar’Zhosk?”
“About that, I think,” Kiri replied. “Father, I’m sure Lillian would help us get to Paul and get him out of dracon lands before he falls asleep in the saddle or founders his horse.”
“Is it really a good idea to ask her? What if she hears why and agrees with the dracons?”
Kiri smiled. “Lillian’s not like that, Father. Besides, she’s much more diplomatically aware. Even if she personally agrees with the dracons, she’ll see the value in preventing an incident with such implications.”
Terris nodded. “Go ask her, please. If she’s amenable, bring her to me, and I’ll ask her for help.”
* * *
Kiri found Lillian sitting by herself in a corner of the dining hall set aside for palace guests. It wasn’t quite time for the midday meal, but Lillian seemed to be using the space as a place to work. Papers covered almost the entire the section of the table where she sat.
Lillian looked up when Kiri approached and smiled her welcome, saying, “Hello. How are you doing?”
Kiri realized that she’d been a sobbing mess the last time they’d spoken, and she offered Lillian a soft smile. “I’m better. Lillian, forgive me for disturbing you, but Father and I have a matter in which we could use your help.”
Lillian nodded once and started gathering her papers. “Do we have enough time for me to drop these off in my suite?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Kiri replied. “Thank you for dropping everything to help us.”
“Not at all,” Lillian answered. “It’s what friends do.”
Soon, Lillian sat across from Kiri and her father in the King’s study. Terris had just finished bringing her up to speed on the situation, and she really hoped she didn’t look as poleaxed as she felt. She never would have guessed the dracons would manage to find out about what Natan Claymark had said.
“Well, if they really did tell Paul not to sleep in their lands, they meant every word of it,” Lillian said at last. “They’re not ones for dissembling.”
“I know,” Kiri said. “That’s why I thought of you. Do you think you remember Paul well enough to open a gateway to him and get him out of dracon lands before they kill him?”
Lillian grimaced. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe? Gavin could use your thoughts and focus on your uncle, like when he teleported all of us to the courtyard.”
Kiri glanced at her father, her lower lip held between her teeth for a moment, and said, “I’d rather not get Gavin involved in this anymore. It’s nothing against him. I just don’t know how my grandfather will react, but having Gavin involved won’t help.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Lillian agreed. “I know Gavin basically swore off your grandfather. He wouldn’t lift a finger now if the man was on fire. It’s not that Gavin wants something bad to happen to him, just that he’s largely indifferent to him now. I guess the thing to try is a scrying sphere. If I can scry your uncle, I can open a gateway to him.”
“Would you please?” Kiri asked.
Lillian nodded, her soft smile returning. “Of course, Kiri. I’m happy to help.”
She closed her eyes and focused on her memories of Kiri’s uncle. Admittedly, those memories were a bit hazy, but they were the best she had. Once she felt her focus was sufficient, she drew a breath and invoked the Word, “Klaepos.”
A sphere of space in front of Lillian began shimmering and rippling, much like the surface of a still pond into which a stone has been thrown. The intensity of the rippling increased rapidly, until—in a flash of light—the sphere became a window overlooking a distant stretch of road. Paul Claymark was driving his horse at a heightened pace, though the pace was one a well-bred horse could maintain for hours, and he glanced behind him three times in the short time Lillian, Kiri, and Terris watched.
Without missing a beat, Terris stood and walked to his desk. He grabbed a piece of parchment with his left hand while dipping a quill into an inkwell with his right. He wrote quickly on the parchment, dripped sealing wax beside his signature, and pressed his signet ring into the wax as it cooled. He handed the parchment to Lillian.
“Please deliver this summons to Paul, asking him to accompany you back to the palace,” Terris said.
Lillian stood and nodded once, accepting the parchment. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lillian’s brow furrowed as she concentrated on the image of the man in the scrying sphere. After a few moments, she took a deep breath, invoked the Word “Paedryx,” and vanished.
* * *
Lillian stepped out from behind a tree as Paul Claymark approached. She saw his surprise at seeing her, and he reined in his horse.
“Lady Mivar?” Paul asked. “What are you doing here?”
Lillian handed him the parchment, and Paul read it.
“I see,” he said. “Well, we probably shouldn’t keep His Majesty waiting.”
“You might want to dismount,” Lillian said. “Horses don’t always handle manifestations of the Art well.”
Paul nodded and did as she suggested. Once he was standing beside her with a firm grip on the reins, Lillian focused her thoughts on the palace courtyard and once more invoked the Word that formed the basis for the modern Teleportation spell. An arch of crackling energy rose up out of the ground, and once it was tall enough to accommodate the horse, it flashed and became a gateway.
* * *
Terris and Kiri were waiting for them when Lillian led Paul into the study. When they reached a respectful distance, Paul knelt and bowed his head.
“Oh, get up, Paul,” Terris almost growled. “Lillian has my permission to address me by name, so let’s put aside all the royal playacting and discuss how to fix the mess your father created.”
Paul flinched as he stood. “That…will be difficult, I fear. Father was incredibly offended that Gavin killed those men.”
“And his granddaughter’s safety meant so little to him?” Terris shot back. “Those five men could’ve had the whole countryside stirred up looking for Kiri. Do you think for even a moment that I wouldn’t have killed them to keep her safe?”
“Your Majesty, I—”
Terris sighed. “For gods’ sake, Paul, enough with the ‘Majesties;’ it’s just us here. I have a summons for your father, which you will deliver. Lillian will take you home and bring you both back, and neither you nor your father will go home until we’ve sorted this out. We do not have the manpower to defend ourselves if the dracons decide to go to war over this, and what do you think the response would be if word reached the Society of why the dracons declared war against us? Do you think they’d just sit by and not want their own pound of flesh over the insult to their Archmagister?”
“If I may,” Lillian interjected, “Gavin considers it a non-issue, and that means neither the Society nor Tel would get involved; they would need his approval.”
“That doesn’t mean individual partisans wouldn’t hop the fence,” Terris replied. “You are absolutely correct that Gavin could keep the Society and Tel from getting involved on the whole, but he can’t control every single arcanist.”
“It’s a very busy time for the farms, Terris,” Paul replied. “I don’t know that Father will leave.”
Terris lifted his eyes to lock Paul’s gaze. “He can come with you and Lillian as my friend and Kiri’s grandfather, or he can come when I send Cavaliers. But he will come regardless. There is too much going on right now to allow this to spiral into a major incident. You’re going to have to explain it to him, Paul.”
“I’ll see to it he comes, Terris,” Paul agreed.
“Good,” Terris said. He turned toward his desk, retrieved a piece of parchment sealed with wax under his signet, and extended it to Paul. “This is an official summons. Don’t use it unless you have to, because we both know that would just have him arrive with his hackles up. Tha
t won’t help, no matter how you look at it.”
“Can we bring Mother if she wants to come?” Paul asked.
“Of course,” Terris answered, nodding. “I haven’t seen her in years, and I’m sure Kiri would love to see her, too.”
Paul nodded, and Terris returned it as he watched Lillian lead him out of the study. After the door closed behind them, Terris shifted his attention to Kiri.
“I am not looking forward to this conversation,” Terris admitted. “Your grandfather has always blamed me for your mother’s death.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Kiri countered.
Terris shrugged. “He argues she’d probably still be alive if she hadn’t married me. She wouldn’t have been Queen.”
“Well, I guess he’ll just have to let that go,” Kiri replied. “You didn’t make Mother marry you, at least not that I’ve ever heard, and I remember how happy we were. Besides, if she hadn’t married you, he wouldn’t have me. It’ll be all right.”
“That doesn’t mean this will be in anyway pleasant, though,” Terris said. “All right. Enough grousing and melancholy. Let’s plan how we’ll handle it.”
Chapter 10
Paul Claymark led Lillian into his father’s office, where they found him at his desk surrounded by farm foremen. A massive map occupied most of the desktop’s surface. Natan’s father had paid handsomely to have as accurate a representation of the family holdings as possible, and as Natan added to the family holdings, he paid for updated maps.
“I’m not sure Field Number Four up near Stiller’s Cave has laid fallow long enough, Mr. Claymark,” one of the foremen was saying as Paul and Lillian approached.
Natan grunted. “If it hasn’t, what does that do to our production schedule for the coming year? I thought we needed that field to meet our goals if we rotate Number Three out to a fallow season.”
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