“Please”—Dax winced—“I know someone at the castle.”
“Right,” Tepp said waving his hand for Dax to come in. “Whatda ya got?”
Dax related the information about Duke Maklyn’s schedule.
Tepp smiled. “Hey, that’s good stuff. I’ll let the boys know.” He clapped Dax on the shoulder. “Best of it is, there’ll be a cut of the take for you.” He smiled. “A little for me, of course, but you’ll likely make some nice money out of this. You can go have a fine time.”
Inside, Dax winced. Tepp thought Dax was doing it for money, but Herne’s words about people getting killed because of this information were still in his thoughts. He thought of Mathilde breaking the Ambergriff line, and his resolve returned. How many people would die if Mathilde carried out her plot?
Since Tepp wanted to get Dax’s information to his own contact, he hustled Dax back out the door. That was fine with Dax since the less time he spent with any of Holder’s men, the less chance there would be of someone asking him a question he would find awkward to answer.
Back at the bunkie, the boys were debating the merits of chowder made with hammer clams compared to banded clams. The argument seemed a little foolish to Dax. They should try braised clams in a basil wine sauce like Ma Cookie makes. He thought it, but he did not say it. While the bootblacks had provided Dax with a welcome haven from an uncertain life on the streets, the time he spent with them now was time that kept him from planning and working against Mathilde. Although he still needed the contact for now, Dax knew he would have to move on.
This evening Hammer sat in his separate area, talking to a girl. Dax took a second look and recognized Hammer’s sister, Lilly. She had stopped by from time to time during the day to talk to Hammer, but since he had been working, Dax had never met her.
Hammer saw Dax looking and waved him over. Hammer stood up from the stool he had been sitting on. “Hey, Bug. Have you met Lilly?”
Dax smiled at the girl. He took the fingers of her right hand in his and gave a nod of a bow. “Lilly,” he said. “I’ve seen you several times, but I’ve never had the pleasure.” Although he knew she was Hammer’s sister, he decided not to mention it since he did not know if Hammer would want her to know he had shared her secret.
As she retrieved her hand, Lilly glanced at Hammer. “Well, this one has manners, sure enough.”
Hammer smiled. “Yeah, little Bug here is just about the politest little snot in the pot.” He smiled and leaned toward her and said quietly, “Just don’t let him ever get you in an arm lock.” He straightened up and gave Dax a wink.
“Bug, huh?” Lilly looked at him. “So how did you get that name?”
“That’s what Hammer calls me.”
She smiled. “So what’s your real name?”
Fear gripped Dax’s throat, and he thought furiously while trying to keep his expression pleasant. Finally he managed, “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? How do you know I’m not a wanted man?”
Lilly giggled. “You’re silly, too.” Her face got more serious. “You know, you sort of remind me of someone. Have I seen you before?”
Alarm replaced Dax’s fear. Had she seen him before?
She frowned, thinking. She turned to Hammer. “I’m thinking about that day some time ago when King Ambergriff came to visit our school.”
Hammer smiled proudly at Dax. “Lilly goes to a special school, she does. She’s smart and they picked her for the School of the Goddess in her Rational Aspect.”
Dax was terrified. He remembered the day he had visited that school with his father and several other dignitaries from the castle. They were there to honor the work the temple did for the best and brightest children in the city. Dax mustered all the discipline he could and smiled. “Wow!” he said, a little breathless. “I’ve heard of that school. That’s great! What are you studying?” He needed to get her talking about something else.
She smiled. “Well, we’re studying the Goddess’s nine major revelations on natural philosophy this year. Along with that, we’re reading Rissen’s Chronicles of the Ambergriffs and doing geometry constructions.”
“So what do you like best?” Dax asked, desperate to keep her talking about her school.
Lilly gave a little smile. “I like geometry the best. We practice making figures, then we look for the relationships between the parts. Sometimes I’m surprised at what I find, but when I work out the connections, there’s no surprise at all.” She gave a little shrug. “You probably don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“It’s interesting to listen to you talk about it.” Dax smiled. “And it sounds as if you like it.” In fact, Dax knew exactly what she was talking about, because he had experienced the same sense of discovery studying the subject with Evnissyen. Talking with Lilly was flirting with disaster. He needed to go back to the rest of the boys. “Lilly, it’s been nice to meet you.” He smiled and nodded to Hammer. “Thank you for introducing me.”
That was too abrupt to be courteous, he thought, but it had been necessary. Hammer and the rest of the bootblacks had no contact with the world inside the castle where he had been raised. Lilly, however, had recognized him. No, he corrected himself, she had not recognized him as the boy king, but she had met him before, and she remembered his face.
That night after everyone had gone to bed, Dax lay awake thinking. He could not stay with the bootblacks. While Lilly was not around often, she might someday place him, and his secret would be out. That danger, added to his hunger to make progress to his goals, made up his mind. He needed to leave the bootblacks.
#
The next night he broached the idea to Herne, knowing the man would accept it immediately. Herne had wanted him to leave the bootblacks earlier, but he had agreed with Dax’s argument that a sudden break might leave suspicions behind.
This evening they also got back to discussing Dax’s future and the future of the kingdom. As before they analyzed the options he had to regain the throne, and just as before, no choice offered a good chance. Dax shook his head. “I don’t like any of these ideas. Even if either Duke Torbury or Duke Lendren—or both—support me, what would it do to West Landly? We’d have the kingdom divided with one part supporting me and the other supporting Keir. I can’t do that.”
Herne nodded in agreement. “The base of Keir’s support is here in Tazzelton, and it’s the Vaughns and the Weylyns who are the keys. They are bitter rivals, but right now Mathilde is using their competition for connections with Argent Trading Company and the Brewer’s Guild up in Silverdale to get both families to support her.”
“They give her their support for Keir, and she gives them control of all the trade on the Silver River from Silverdale all the way up to the Circular Sea.” Dax thought a little more, remembering what Evnissyen had quizzed him about shortly before he had fled the castle. “The council would have to renounce the trade treaty with Butterock Haven. They’re one of our oldest allies.”
“Old allies against new riches.” Herne scowled. “Guess who wins every time.”
Now Dax was on firmer ground. “Our family has always had close ties to Butterock. That’s where Mother was from. They knew we would never allow that to happen.”
Moryn looked up. “Where is Mathilde from?”
Dax looked puzzled. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anyone ever saying.” He shrugged. “I guess I always assumed she was from the city.”
“Northshore actually,” Herne stated. “But your father met her here in Tazzelton. She had come to visit her cousins, the Vaughns.”
Moryn arched an eyebrow. “Northshore? She’s from Thara then. I didn’t know the Vaughns had a connection to Thara.”
Herne crossed his fingers. “Tight as this. Aemor Vaughn’s wife, Heyla, is from Thara.”
“If Mathilde is from Thara”—Moryn nodded knowingly—“that would explain those high cheekbones of hers that all the gentlemen notice.”
Herne nodded. “Among other attributes. The
damned woman . . .”—he glanced at Dax—“is very attractive,” he finished lamely.
“My, you’re being nice tonight.” Moryn made a face. “Is the presence of our lord and sovereign king tempering your language?”
For a moment Herne frowned, but he could not keep his expression serious in front of Moryn. “Ah, the bootblacks have taught Dax plenty of salty talk, but I still feel responsible to set a proper example.” He made a dismissive gesture at her and looked at Dax. “You know what I’m talking about with Mathilde?”
Dax nodded. “Ma Cookie says she makes men have indecent thoughts.” He smiled a bit at the memory because at the time, Ma Cookie had stated it a bit more plainly.
“Perceptive woman, Suse,” Herne acknowledged.
“Tell me again how Mathilde met Conal,” Moryn asked.
Herne settled back in his chair. “Mathilde was part of a delegation from Thara visiting the Vaughns here in Tazzelton.” He made a gesture toward the harbor. “The Vaughns have been trading down in Thara for years, and this group was up to reaffirm their agreements on behalf of the Tharans’ new emperor.”
The name popped into Dax’s head. “Darjazen.”
“That’s the one.” Herne nodded. “I’ve heard Mathilde has some sort of a connection to the emperor, but I don’t know that for a fact.”
Neither Herne nor Moryn said anything for a time, but Dax did not notice. Too many thoughts were going through his mind. Thara was a major rival of West Landly. Mathilde was Tharan. Mathilde might have a connection to the emperor, a man who had recently subjugated another rival kingdom on the continent of South Remmak. “Is this all a Tharan plot?” he finally asked.
Herne shook his head. “I can’t say that for a fact. There are plots and counter plots, and you’re hearing the rambling suspicions of an old soldier.” He looked into the fire and shrugged.
Still working at her knitting, Moryn said, “A suspicious old soldier who outthought enemy commanders on the battlefield for thirty years.”
Dax’s worried eyes met Herne’s. “Moryn’s right. What did you tell my father about all this?”
“Couldn’t tell him anything, because I didn’t know anything for sure at the time.” He frowned. “There were lots of members of the council who opposed his union with Mathilde as well.” He looked at Dax, and Dax saw the sadness in his eyes. “Your father and I had cross words about it once, but he was determined, so I kept my peace after that.” Herne looked away from Dax and repeated, “I held my peace.”
Moryn leaned over and patted Herne’s arm. “You did all you could do. Now tell him what you told me the other night.”
Herne sighed. “Now that you’ve told me what really happened to your father, I’ve given it a lot of thought. I’m betting Mathilde approached the Vaughns some time ago with the idea of putting someone on the throne who would lean toward the Vaughns. Or they approached her. Doesn’t really matter, does it?” He looked at Dax before he went on. “I think there’s more than just a danger to you here. Thara may have designs on weakening West Landly. Plots on top of plots.” He held up a finger. “Raiders in the South down near the Sundering Straights north of Thara are more active than ever.” He held up a second finger. “A plot by a woman from Thara to overthrow the monarchy of West Landly.” Herne held up a third finger. “Conclusion, the Tharans are still looking to expand their empire.”
Herne thought Thara was a problem, but the idea made Dax think. Finally he ventured, “Am I as big a problem now as Thara? If I claim the throne, West Landly could split into factions. That would truly weaken the kingdom—just what Thara would love to see. Yet if Keir is made king, Mathilde would have control, and Thara would profit from that as well.”
No one said anything until Moryn commented, “They win or you lose. Not a good time to bet.”
The silence went on.
“The problem is me, isn’t it?” Dax said after a time. “If I claim the throne to prevent the assembly from appointing Keir, the conflict will weaken the kingdom. If I manage to take the throne, it will create turmoil that will undermine the kingdom even more. If the assembly appoints Keir as the new king, Thara’s influence will accomplish the same thing as an invasion but without the cost.” He stopped and took a deep breath. The recital of the dismal options dismayed him.
Since Herne had not said anything, Dax decided the man must be allowing him to work it out in his own mind. “The problem is I’m too young to be the strong ruler the kingdom needs to put things right.” He looked at Herne for confirmation, but received no help. “Is there any way the assembly could have a free and fair vote for someone who would be a unifying ruler? One that everyone would accept?” Dax finally asked.
Herne stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Keir would have to be eliminated or at least discredited . . . Mathilde too.” He thought for a while, then continued, “The Vaughns want a piece of the throne. The Weylyns do, too, but they wouldn’t want a piece with the Vaughns. Others, especially in the North, would want the Ambergriff line to continue.” He looked at Dax. “You,” he said simply. “However, that would start another fight over who would be regent—for a while anyway. Then there is the strong, anti-royal movement we’ve seen around the Silverdale area.”
The battle over the throne pulled in too many directions, even without Mathilde’s plot. “Still trouble for the kingdom,” Dax sighed.
Herne nodded and said, “Mathilde has cooked up a well-stirred pot of thick stew. It will take time to settle.”
“So what should I do? Stay in hiding?”
Moryn shook out her knitting and checked it for length. The motion made both of them look at her. “Maybe you should go off somewhere. Somewhere like Butterock.”
Herne shook his head. “Butterock is too obvious. I would bet Mathilde already has people there as well as in Silverdale. Those are two places I would look anyway.”
“Iron Moor,” Dax said. “What about that? That’s way up north, and Father always said they are the best academy in North Remmak.”
After a time Herne said, “Well, I’m not exactly unbiased about the place, because that’s where I trained.” He nodded. “Way up near Dinwiddie, on the north side of the Circular Sea . . . that’s a goodly ways out of the cesspot in the castle.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “Yes, that would be a possibility. They train the best warriors there, but more important, they train leaders of warriors.” He looked at Dax. “You wouldn’t be king, but from what I’ve see of you, you could end up a general in someone’s army. Somewhere.”
“A general,” Dax pondered.
“Not a bad life. It’s hard work. Sometimes unpleasant.” He sighed and stared into the distance. “Sometimes damnably unpleasant.”
“The big question is, would I be safe there?”
The question stirred Herne from his thoughts. “Huh? Safe?” He gave a humorless laugh. “You’re not safe anywhere, lad. However, you would definitely be out of sight long enough to grow up, learn to fight, and learn to lead.” Herne absently tapped the table beside his chair. “But there’s an even better reason to go to Iron Moor.”
Moryn looked up. “What’s that?”
“Headmaster Renshau,” Herne replied. “He took over as commandant some years after I left to join the guard, but I’ve met him a time or two when I’ve been up to visit the old place. He’s one of the dragon-bound, and the dragon-bound stick together like burrs to sheep.” He nodded to Dax. “Renshau will know what to do with you. In fact, Renshau is definitely a man who needs to know what is going on” He tapped the table again. “I’ll get a letter to him straight away.”
Dax thought about letters and secrets for a minute, then said, “How will you send it?”
Herne smiled. “Good. You’re thinking tactically. Shoe the horses and patch the tack before the trip, I always say. This has to be secret and can’t go by the regular post.” He nodded. “They teach codes and cyphers at Iron Moor, and I know a retired guardsman or two who would be more than willing to get out of t
he house and away from his wife for a few weeks to run an errand for an old friend.”
Moryn reached over, poked Herne with a knitting needle. “And don’t you go making that comment about that’s why you prefer a mistress to a wife. The boy’s too young to hear such talk.” She looked at Dax and winked.
The discussion wandered off as Herne fell to reminiscing about his cadet days at Iron Moor Academy. While Dax knew a little about the school from his lessons, hearing Herne’s stories gave him a sense of what his future might be. He would lose the throne, but he could live and train as an anonymous student. Live, train, and have a chance to regain some honor of accomplishment with his life.
Their conversation carried late into the night. They discussed the situation several more times, but their assessment did not change. When they finally stood up to go to bed, Herne laid his hand on Dax’s shoulder as they stood in front of the fire. “If nothing else, your concern for your kingdom above your own personal claim to the throne convinces me you would have been a fine king. Your father would have been very proud of the son he raised, king or not.”
Although Herne’s words were reassuring, Dax lay awake for a long time that night. He had failed his heritage. If Keir took the throne, the Ambergriff line of kings would come to an end. If Keir did not take the throne, the assembly might possibly choose someone to continue the royal line, but Dax would have failed his father. His thoughts ran out. He lay quietly waiting for sleep without success. On impulse he reached under the bed where he now kept the egg in a nest of blankets. He cuddled it in his arms, and its warm welcome helped him relax. Before he drifted off to sleep, he had one final thought . . . he may have failed the Ambergriff line, but he had not yet failed himself.
King's Exile: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 1 Page 14