A Crown Imperiled

by Raymond E. Feist

  Pug’s stunned shock began to slowly turn to anger of his own. ‘Are you suggesting somehow I’m to blame for the Valheru starting the Chaos Wars ages before man came to Midkemia?’

  ‘Of course not!’ shouted Magnus. ‘Don’t insult my intelligence. But have you ever considered that pulling down the arena around the ears of Tsurani citizens whose only crime was to attend a public festival might have been the first time in your life you looked at human life as yours to spend? At whim?’

  Pug grabbed Magnus by the front of his robe and cried, ‘What is this about, Magnus?’

  Pushing his father’s hands away, Magnus said, ‘You destroyed a world, Father. You did your best to get people free of it, but in the end . . . I don’t know how many died because of what you did.’

  ‘I had no choice!’ shouted Pug.

  ‘There is always a choice,’ said Magnus. ‘From the choice to do nothing and let events take their course, to constantly meddling and wreaking havoc on other people’s lives. It just seems that your choices bring about the most destruction.’ He looked at his father as if seeing him for the first time. ‘I don’t know you.’

  ‘You know what’s at stake.’

  ‘Do I?’ said Magnus. ‘I know who we face. I will not argue that we have been opposed by forces evil beyond understanding. Madness is their hallmark, and chaos is their chosen mode, but in the end I must ask, have we done our best in opposing them, or do we flail about, breaking whatever gets in our way, because we never ask the question: at what price?’

  ‘We pay whatever price is asked,’ Pug answered. ‘Otherwise all we know, and more, worlds beyond counting, are lost.’

  Magnus turned and looked out over the ocean. ‘I stand here and look out and see miles of rolling waves. Under the water life is teeming, oblivious to what we undertake in our struggles. In the sky birds soar, our conflicts meaning nothing to them. And this is but one world. I’ve seen the stars in the heavens and know the engine of creation is vast beyond my ability to comprehend it, yet in the end I feel as I have said, that there is a limit!’ His voice rose and he pointed back towards the Pantathian city. ‘In there is an abomination. Two people I loved more than I loved any other, my mother and Nakor, are captured in some evil design and returned to us, and for what reason? Even they confess to not knowing why. But I think it’s simply another jest by the gods to convince us that there is no limit to the price. And I want no more of it.’

  And with that, Magnus vanished.

  Pug stood alone on the cliffs looking at a cold, choppy sea, a chilly early morning wind cutting into him, and never in his life had he felt more alone.

  • CHAPTER TWENTY •

  Manoeuvres

  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.’

&nbs
p; ‘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.’