Morning found them continuing east through the corrugated folds of the hills with a light rain still at their backs. More than once Hollin cursed the fact that she was forced to ride side-saddle in the rain, but reflected that it was better than riding in a carriage listening to Inara's continual gossip and feeling nauseous. Her horse, however, was young and inexperienced, and several times she almost lost her seat as he shied and slid in the mud.
By mid-day the rain began to abate and the next night, though cold, was damp only on the ground. The ducal entourage had passed through several villages along the road, but again they spent the night in their own camp. The third night brought them to the large manor of one of Hollin's vassals and the principles of the party spent the night indoors. The following day saw them crossing over the border from Langstraad into the Royal Duchy of Sandovar. Hollin always suffered from a feeling of exposure when she left her own lands.
Pentarin, the capital city of the Pentarchy and home to House Sandovar, lay a little more than 300 miles directly south and east of Castle Lir: a journey of over two weeks, burdened as they were with wagons. The weather continued to improve as they moved east and when, at the end of ten days, they turned south and entered the vastness of the Silvarluin Valley, they were met by blue skies and fields bright with wildflowers amid new growth.
The Silvarluin Valley was a rich, populous land dotted with large farming manors, home to minor nobility, and small crofts of peasant farmers. Numerous small towns were strung along the roads that converged like a spider's web on Pentarin. Once within the prosperous borders of the valley, the entourage could no longer make their own camp and so several nights were passed being entertained by minor lords. Benedict sent messengers ahead of the main party in order to alert those nobles to whom the obligation of housing and feeding the ducal entourage would fall. Most nobles considered it a great honour to entertain a member of one of the Great or Minor Houses and vied with each other for the chance. Diplomatically, Benedict always arranged for different sponsors each journey. Hollin assumed her ducal attitude, responding with the anticipated regal graciousness expected by her hosts.
On the last morning, Hollin allowed a little more time for Inara, with Celia's assistance, to prepare her for her entrance into the royal city. Rich garments of green and gold were lifted from their trunks and Inara helped Hollin to dress. Lady Inara would have been even happier if Hollin had agreed to ride in the carriage properly, but here Hollin drew the line. She had always ridden into the city on horseback and she was not about to dismount. Inara sighed in disappointment; her mistress' dresses always suffered when they were worn riding. Surrounded by her escort, the Duchess of Langstraad rode in state to the gates of the capital city.
From afar Pentarin could be descried by its white towers gleaming in the sun. The city was built on several small hills on either side of the river. Unlike her own Castle Lir, Pentarin had been built for beauty and trade, not as a fortress. It was a city of broad, paved streets lined with trees, and graceful bridges that spanned the river, Silvarluin, the main conduit of travel and commerce between the Pentarchy's capital and its major port at Dacara. The buildings were spacious and well-proportioned structures from the palace complex to the merchant's plazas and down to the dwellings of the less exalted citizens. Everywhere one looked there were bright flowers set off by the whiteness of the buildings. The palace walls were faced with white marble, while the remainder of the city was washed with limestone. The towers and turrets of the palace had their roofs sheathed with silver, carefully treated so that they were impervious to dullness and tarnish; thus the city could be seen from great distances, looking as if it were ablaze with a silver fire.
As the ducal entourage approached the northern gateway to the city in the mid-afternoon sun, an honour-guard of horsemen rode forth to meet them. Benedict halted the company and waited as ten riders on gray horses approached bearing the badge of House Sandovar, a silver griffon on blue, on their surcoats. They came to a halt and one of their company rode forward, dismounted and bowed before Hollin. "In the name of Lord Percamber ap Morna, regent for House Sandovar, I bid you welcome and invite you to enter our city in peace." He spoke in rich sonorous tones and followed his speech with another lavish bow. Hollin replied with a slight inclination of her head. He turned, remounted and they became an advance guard. Reaching the archway that was the city's northern entrance, they proceeded into the city itself.
Hollin had made many trips to Pentarin over the years but she was always struck by its beauty and the courtesy of its populace. All along the paved streets well-dressed people bowed and smiled at her as she passed. Their way led into the heart of the city and up onto the hill that contained the palace. Through the gateway in the marble walls, they entered the precincts of the palace complex, coming to a halt in an impressive semi-circular courtyard. Before them a broad staircase led up to the great hall, while on each side of the staircase porticoed wings of the palace spread out, curving to enclose the courtyard.
One of the city's escort raised a trumpet to his lips and blew a fanfare, announcing the arrival of a ducal embassy. He was answered by other trumpets from within, as the enormous brass doors leading into the great hall were opened and two men emerged to stand at the top of the stairs. Benedict dismounted and assisted Hollin from her horse. Handing their horses to a waiting groom, they ascended the stairs. On the top step Benedict stopped and knelt, while Hollin walked forward alone to stand before the two men, both of whom were sumptuously dressed in formal state robes in honour of her arrival. The elder of the two she knew: Lord Percamber ap Morna, father of the late queen, grandfather of the crown prince and current regent of House Sandovar and the Pentarchy; an old man with frost-bright hair and deep-set eyes of remarkable intensity. A map of fine lines and wrinkles etched his face and his hands were thin and blotched, but his back was still remarkably straight and supple. The man standing beside him was many years his junior. Hollin also had little trouble identifying him: Lord Colin de Chantalcalm, Viscount of the Minor House of Treves. He was known to be a close friend and advisor to Percamber. His long jaw was clean-shaven and his rather handsome face held a pair of deceptively mild, pale-blue eyes under his bright, corn-coloured hair. A clever and capable man Hollin had judged him in the past, though she was not on particularly close terms with him herself. Like Percamber, he was attired in the long robes of state with his house badge embroidered within a silver pentangle on his right shoulder. He bowed deeply to her in deference to her superior rank.
"I bid you welcome in peace to Pentarin, your grace," Percamber intoned formally.
"And peace unto you, my lord regent," she answered as custom dictated. They both stepped forward and he gave her a kinsman's embrace.
"You have come quickly," he said quietly in her ear.
"I left as soon as I could, after receiving your message."
"Your wing of the palace has been prepared for your visit. Perhaps you would care to dine with me this evening, if you are not too fatigued by your journey?" he inquired, in a louder voice.
"I should be honoured, my lord." She was conscious of the number of people standing along the portico within earshot of them. With a fleeting smile of comprehension, she motioned Benedict forward to order her company to settle themselves, as she was escorted by the two eminent lords through the doorway to be greeted by the waiting lords and ladies of Pentarin.
The palace complex of Pentarin was extensive and sprawling, a vast maze of public and private rooms, hallways and gardens enclosed by the palace walls. Each of the Great Houses had its own wing within the confines of the royal palace. These residences were sacrosanct to their denoted families and were maintained by their own personally appointed household staff year-round. The privacy of the House residences was such that no one ventured into them without the express permission of a member of that House.
A small bodyguard was chosen to stay within the confines of House Langstraad's wing of the palace and the remainder of her
escort were housed in barracks outside of the city with the horses. Benedict set about ordering the disposition of men, horses and baggage while Hollin withdrew into her own private rooms after the reception, accompanied by Inara and Celia. Inara had been to Pentarin many times before but this was Celia's first experience and she was obviously dazzled by it.
"It's so big! How can you find your way about it without getting lost?" she wondered aloud.
"Oh," Inara replied breezily, "it's not that difficult. You'll get used to it soon enough."
A middle-aged woman with a friendly and competent face came forward to greet them. Lady Clowen was in charge of the household staff in Langstraad's quarters and had been so since the time of Hollin's mother. She informed the duchess in crisp tones that a bath had been drawn and was waiting for her. Hollin was only too glad to be ushered in, undressed and deposited in a pool of steaming, scented water.
Celia was amazed at the size and luxury of the room after the more spartan facilities of Castle Lir. Inara tartly informed her that now that they were in Pentarin, especially for an important state occasion like a council session, the duchess would adopt a much more formal lifestyle. It was obvious that Inara relished the change, as well as her chance to suitably employ her skills.
Hollin relaxed in the water and allowed the accumulated grime of travel to be washed away. Lady Clowen was sensitive to her mistress' impatience for excessive fussing and only allowed two attendants for the bath. The duchess submitted to having her hair washed and dressed, and her clothing chosen and arrayed on her body; then she ordered everyone out. Wandering through her bedchamber and into her morning room, she found Lady Clowen beside a tray of cakes and tea.
"You are marvelous," Hollin complimented her. "You read my mind and produce my wants."
Clowen looked gratified. "It's not so difficult, your grace. I just try to make everything as comfortable for you as I can."
"Please join me." Hollin indicated the food on the table and sat down. Clowen poured a tea of cinnamon and roses into a cup of translucent porcelain and handed it to Hollin, then poured herself one. "Now I need some conversation of the sort that only you can give me." The two women smiled in good-humoured conspiracy at each other.
Among Lady Clowen's valuable traits as mistress of the royal quarters was her natural ear for gossip without its damaging tongue. She listened, observed and reported the pulse of Pentarin's court without giving anything back.
"... and so your grace, there is one contingent that wants a member of House Sandovar on the throne, and another group that want Lord Percamber to adopt an heir, and still another faction think that a High King should be elected by the Pentacle Council from one of the Great Houses. It's all a bit muddled, but there does seem to be a growing consensus among the people, high and low alike, that the throne has been vacant for too long and that its present vacancy is a danger to the peace and stability of the Pentarchy."
"There is also talk," here Lady Clowen favoured her with a sly glance, "of the Duchess of Langstraad as being a popular choice for the throne, seeing that the Lady Bronwyn ap Gryffyd was your aunt."
"That hardly points to me as first choice," Hollin demurred.
"Yes, but you are admired and well-liked by the people. Lady Genvra is married into House Pentarell and as for Lord Gervase..."
"Kicking and screaming would be the only way my cousin could be dragged from Castle Iscoed." The woman smiled indulgently. "Is there any other talk about me and the throne?"
"Well, there is the knowledge that a betrothal ceremony was performed between you and the former crown prince. Of course, that took place long before you became head of House Langstraad."
"Former crown prince?" Her question was sharp, prompting her narrator to draw back in surprise.
"Why yes, I'm afraid that the general opinion is that he must be dead after all these years. I think that's one reason there is all of this speculation and unrest. People feel that if he was alive he'd have returned, and if he is dead then a new king should be chosen."
"Then there still has been no formal declaration of his death?"
"No, there's not been that. I believe it is widely assumed that Percamber will make the formal announcement at this council session." There was a soft knock on the door and Celia entered to announce that the escort to conduct Hollin to her dinner engagement had arrived .
"Is it so late already?" Hollin glanced out the window at the westering sky.
"I've ordered a personal guard of four men to accompany you," Clowen said, rising with her mistress.
Hollin nodded resignedly. "I always forget what a crowd I must travel with on these state visits. Well, assemble them and I'll be on my way."
Chapter 3
The Duchess of Langstraad was conducted from her own chambers through a labyrinth of public rooms to the private quarters of House Sandovar. In keeping with the fact that House Sandovar was the Royal House and that Pentarin was the capital city, their residence was particularly magnificent. Hollin had not spent much time in this section of the palace and was impressed by the beauty and stately elegance of the rooms and their furnishings. Walls and floors of polished stone of different colours were laid out in elaborate geometric designs, and the many high vaulted ceilings, made lighter with clerestory windows, were further enlivened with exquisite mosaics. Lamps burning with sweet-smelling oil lit the halls between rooms. The furniture that she saw was of carved wood, many pieces inlaid with gold and silver, covered with rich fabrics. Windows and doorways opened onto a multitude of tiny interior gardens. The servants and attendants they passed in the hallways all bore the heraldic emblem of House Sandovar: griffon rampant argent on azure.
She was brought at last to a large gallery that overlooked a formal garden. A long reflecting pool, palest blue and rose in the still evening air, extended the length of the garden. The room itself was handsomely furnished, and hanging lamps of silver and crystal augmented the light from the open windows. Across the room, the silver and gold heads of Percamber and Colin were close together as they stood in earnest conversation. A woman reclined on a low divan looking out of one of the open windows. As Hollin entered, her escort announced: "Her Grace, the Duchess of Langstraad."
"I'm so pleased you could join us this evening," Percamber said, striding across the room to take her by the hands. Hollin smiled at him and dismissed her guards. "You have met Lord Colin's wife, the Lady Dinea, have you not?" He led her to join the others.
"Your grace." The woman on the divan stood in one fluid movement and curtsied. As she stood upright again, Hollin recognized the rangy woman with prominent cheekbones and beautiful chestnut hair which escaped her hairpins to wisp about her head like a halo. She was of middle-age, with a light net of lines about her fine, dark eyes set under rather severe brows.
"I don't think you attended the last council session. It's pleasant to see you again," Hollin remarked.
"Thank you. I was indisposed last year and unable to accompany my husband." Lady Dinea's voice was a deep contralto.
At this juncture Colin came forward to bow and greet the duchess. The four of them stood talking with one another as they waited to be summoned to dinner. Everyone was charming and the conversation was congenial, though Hollin was aware of an undercurrent of tension or excitement existing between her hosts. They went in to dinner and the pleasantries continued.
"...and so my father sent me off to the Scholastium at Dacara to see what could be made of my talents. That is where I first met Dinea," Colin concluded
"You were in training also?" Hollin inquired curiously of the woman seated across from her.
"Yes. My family is of minor noble rank in Mirvanovir. I showed certain talents when young and, since my father was having difficulty finding dowries for six daughters, I volunteered to go and study with the mage masters in Dacara and thus reduce his dowries by one. He was quite grateful. I had the least number of suitors and he feared that I would command the highest dowry." She laughed and Colin p
ut out his hand and took hers. Hollin unexpectedly found herself feeling somewhat enviousness of the loving regard these two exhibited for each other.
"Everything worked out well in the end. I became quite proficient with my attributes, met Colin, and my father married off all of my sisters." Dinea laughed again and squeezed Colin's hand affectionately.
"Well, Lady Hollin, are you ready to deal with the rumours and problems of the coming council session?" Colin asked, turning to the duchess.
"I assume the rumours that you are alluding to concern the question of succession. What particular problems do you mean?" She looked forthrightly around the table at her dinner companions, lastly at Percamber, who sat gazing into his cup.
"Who shall succeed Lord Percamber?" Colin was also looking at the old man.
"Prince Brian ap Gryffyd is still the heir-designate, is he not?" Hollin replied coolly.
Percamber raised his eyes to meet hers over the rim of his cup. "Officially, yes he is. Tell me Lady Hollin, what do you know about my grandson?"
Hollin considered her company before speaking. "I know that he left the Pentarchy on a diplomatic mission, was gone for a long while, returned briefly, then left again and has not to my knowledge returned since. There has of late been much speculation as to his health and whereabouts. Now tell me, why do you ask and why did you request my early arrival?" She returned his look levely.
He sighed. "Contrary to popular opinion, my grandson is safe and alive somewhere outside the borders of the Pentarchy. There is much to tell you, many things that should have been said long ago, but we have continued to believe that the prince would reappear of his own volition and solve our dilemma. Lord Colin and his wife have been my closest advisers over the last few years, and especially in the past few months when the questions and rumours about the succession began to be voiced in earnest. What I have to tell you is known in part by many, but in full by few. It is highly confidential and since I have reason to suspect that there are unwanted ears, even within my own walls, I would ask that you join us now in my private study where I know we will not be overheard."
The Pentacle War: Book One - Hearts In Cups Page 4