A Crown Imperilled cs-2

by Raymond E. Feist

  She said, ‘Just my ankle. No one got near me.’

  ‘Good,’ said Hal. He put up his sword, grabbed her by her left arm and drew her over his shoulder, as he would a sack of grain.

  When they reached the road and stepped out, they were greeted by a waiting squad of men on horseback, swords out and two bows trained on them. ‘Halt in the King’s name,’ said the ranking sergeant.

  Hal put Stephane down and drew his sword. Ty said, ‘Boots.’

  Hal saw these men were uniformly equipped and let out a slow breath of relief. The sergeant pointed uphill and indicated two of his men should head up and see what all the noise had been. ‘Now, who are you and what are you doing on the King’s Highway?’

  Ty glanced at Hal as if silently asking how much they should say. Hal answered, ‘No disrespect, Sergeant, but I really need to speak to someone of higher rank in the city.’

  The sergeant, his face looking like a sack of sunburned leather, large pouches under his eyes from too much drinking and too little sleep over the years, rubbed his chin with a heavily-gloved hand. ‘Higher rank, is it?’

  The two riders returned, ‘Lots of bodies, Sergeant. Wearing the King’s tabard.’

  Swords started coming out of scabbards but Hal said, ‘Pirates, wearing Kingdom tabards. Have your men go back and look closer. You’ll see clothes, weapons-’

  ‘Boots,’ interjected Ty.

  ‘-from no garrison stores in the Kingdom.’

  The old sergeant sat back, his expression revealing he had little use for complications in what should be an otherwise ordinary patrol. ‘We’ve had word of such to the east.’ He motioned and the two returned up hill, only to come back a few minutes later. ‘It’s as he said, Sergeant,’ said one rider. ‘Cutlasses and the like. One of the dead has Keshian sandals on.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said the sergeant. ‘So far you’re telling the truth. Now, about this need to speak with someone of higher rank …’

  Hal stripped off his left gauntlet and moved to the other side of the sergeant’s horse, which blocked him from the sight of the others. He pulled off his signet ring and handed it to the sergeant. The seagull crest of Crydee with the cadency mark of three points over the gull, indicating the eldest son, was clearly carved into the fine gold alloy.

  ‘Where did you get this?’ asked the soldier.

  Quietly Hal said, ‘My father gave it to me.’

  ‘And where did he get it from?’ asked the sergeant, his tone softening.

  ‘From his father, who got it from his before he became Duke of Crydee.’

  For a moment the old soldier’s expression showed that truth or lie, this was a problem for someone of superior rank, so he turned and shouted, ‘Tanner, Williams, your horses!’

  Two soldiers dismounted and came over. To Hal he said, ‘For the ladies, so they may can ride if they are able. You lads can walk with my boys. I’ve got a patrol to continue.’ To the two soldiers he said, ‘Take them to the captain,’ and without another word, raised his hand, signalling that the patrol was to continue.

  Hal looked to Stephane who said, ‘I can ride,’ before he could ask, and he smiled at her. She returned one, though weak and exhausted.

  Gabriella helped Stephane mount and then climbed into the saddle of the other horse and the four fugitives and their two escorts turned west.

  Hal asked, ‘How far to Ran?’

  One of the soldiers said, ‘At a walk? We’ll be there in two, three hours.’

  Hal and Ty looked at one another and both managed a beleaguered smile.

  Despite days in the wild, the trek along the highway was the most tedious portion of the journey. The road to Ran led down from a series of escarpments above the shore and so the city came into view miles away. As they trudged along it appeared to be getting no closer, but at last they were suddenly outside the city’s eastern gate.

  The guards at the gate raised a hand and one said, ‘What this then?’

  ‘Captain?’ was all the soldier said and the sentry nodded, waving him through.

  They moved past a crowded area, part caravanserai, part customs inspection point, ringed by make-shift booths and stalls where hawkers sold a variety of goods. The smells of cooking food caused all four of the travellers to realize they were weak from hunger and Princess Stephane said, ‘Oh, whatever that is, I’ll eat it here in the saddle.’

  ‘We’ll get you fed soon enough,’ said Hal, his own stomach reminding him how long it was since he had had a handful of berries.

  They reached the office of the city patrol and the soldier who escorted them in saluted before a bored-looking young captain sitting behind a small desk, and said, ‘Sergeant says you should talk to these people, sir.’

  The captain waved him away and looked at the four of them. Seeing the young women he perked up a little, for despite their road-dirt and fatigue, they were still attractive women. He stood up and motioned for Hal to fetch over another chair. ‘Ladies, please, you look exhausted.’

  Sitting on the desk, he looked first at Ty, then Hal. ‘So the sergeant says I’m supposed to talk to you. About what?’

  Hal said, ‘Forgive me a question, Captain, before I answer you. Who is in command of the city?’

  The captain looked at Hal as if he was joking. ‘The Duke of Ran, of course.’

  ‘I mean is he in the city or in the field?’

  ‘Here, in Ran. The army of Ran has been recalled and even as we speak is disembarking from ships in the harbour. The war is over, if you’ve not heard.’

  ‘Over?’ asked Ty.

  ‘What about Roldem?’ asked Stephane.

  ‘We’ve no news from Roldem, lady, so I assume all is well there.’

  ‘I must speak to the Duke,’ said Hal.

  ‘First you’ll speak with me,’ said the captain, not happy at Hal’s tone.

  ‘Sorry, but I must speak to the Duke.’

  ‘And who might you be to tell me you must speak to the Duke?’

  Hal took off his gauntlet again and held out his ring. ‘I’m Henry, son of Henry, Duke of Crydee, and you have the honour to address Her Royal Highness, Princess Stephane of Roldem.’

  Stephane gave a wan smile.

  The young captain was completely flummoxed for a moment, then looked again at Hal’s ring. If it was a forgery or ruse of some sort, let the Duke’s personal household guard captain sort it out. He was just a garrison captain ordered to patrol the King’s Highway and arrest smugglers. Decision made, he shouted, ‘Williams!’

  A soldier stuck his head inside the small office. ‘Captain?’

  ‘Get a carriage and take these people to the palace.’

  ‘Where am I going to get a carriage at this time of day?’ he asked, showing a casual disregard for the formalities of rank.

  ‘I don’t care if you steal it! Get a carriage now!’

  The soldier vanished, his expression showing shock at the young captain’s tone. ‘My name is Greyson,’ said the captain. ‘Can I get you something, anything while you wait?’

  ‘Water,’ said Gabriella.

  ‘And something to eat,’ said Stephane.

  Hal and Ty looked at one another and in unison said, ‘Ale!’

  Still fatigued but now fed, Ty and Hal stood before Duke Chadwick of Ran. A stern-looking man in his late fifties, he still had the look of a brawler about him. He was thick-shouldered, and deeply tanned from years of soldiering, but his once-red hair was now white, as was the small moustache and pointed beard he sported. The young women were being seen to by the Duchess and her women and were enjoying baths and fresh clothing. The Duke had felt the young men’s stories were important enough to demand a hearing straight away, so here they were, still dirty and tattered.

  Ty and Hal had been somewhat circumspect in naming particular players in the political game in Roldem, but in the end the Duke had said, ‘Odd that the King and Queen should feel the need to smuggle their daughter out of Roldem rather than simply call this Worthington
fellow to account.’ He was silent then said, ‘A coup?’

  Ty said, ‘After a fashion, I suspect, Your Grace. The rumour prevalent in the capital is that Lord John is ambitious to have his son wed to the Princess.’

  ‘Who wouldn’t be?’ asked the Duke with a laugh. ‘Had I a boy of the right age, I’d be sending him to Roldem. But my sons from my first wife are all grown, and those from my second still toddlers.’ He grew thoughtful. ‘Still, as the King’s Chancellor, Lord John has more power then any man non-royal in Roldem, so what’s to be gained from forcing the girl to a marriage no one but Lord John wishes?’

  ‘She’s fourth in line for the Crown,’ answered Hal.

  ‘Roldem, of all places.’ The Duke shook his head. ‘I just can’t see it.’ He glanced around to see if they were overheard. ‘Here, the Isles? That’s another kettle of fish. You’re a royal, young Hal, albeit a minor one, so there are people out there who wish you had never been born. If the King doesn’t get on with it and father another son one of these days, we could have a serious mess on our hand in a few years.’

  ‘Few years?’ asked Hal.

  ‘Well, Gregory’s not a well man by all reports. Oh,’ he added quickly holding up his hand, ‘not that he’s at death’s door or any such, just that he’s not robust and has had bouts of ague over the last few winters. Certainly, there are healing priests and chirurgeons hovering when he’s taken ill. If he passes any time soon, it’ll be because Lims-Kragma wants him now!’ He barked out a laugh, to show he was making light of the matter. ‘You’ve got a dozen cousins who would happily dance on your corpse rather than see you standing before the Congress of Lords claiming the crown, young Henry. It’ll stay that way until the King names his heir.’

  ‘If you remember, Lord Chadwick, my ancestor, Martin, King Lyam’s brother, renounced the throne for our line.’

  The Duke waved it away. ‘Western honour. I forgot. It’s very quaint and charming.’ He leaned forward. ‘Just be ready. If anything happens to the King, your father will have a dozen knives seeking his throat at first chance, and you’ll be next. Any other brothers?’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘Well, they would be on that list after you.’ Leaning back, Chadwick said, ‘You’re a conDoin, boy. Since we left that damned island to conquer half the north of Triagia, a conDoin has sat the throne in Rillanon. Some better than others, granted, but always that bloodline. There are some who would see it end with Gregory.’

  ‘That’s treason,’ said Ty.

  ‘Not if the King doesn’t name an heir. Then it’s up to the Congress of Lords and that means it goes to the highest bidder.’ He paused. ‘Or the man with the biggest army. Bah!’ He dismissed the conversation as meaningless. ‘This is the Isles. We’re always looking for a way to gain advantage over our neighbours. My family’s been at odds with Rodez for over two centuries, and for the life of me I can’t tell you why.’ He grinned. ‘Still, we pester one another when we can. But Roldem …’ He shook his head. ‘Lore says we of the Isles and Roldem were once a single people. Heaven knows the languages are enough alike that it takes little effort for one to learn the other. I know that our noble families have intermarried so often we might as well just call ourselves cousins. But we’re the difficult cousins, and they’re the refined ones. We build armies; they build universities.’ He pointed to his own back. ‘Had the cane myself a few times as a student there. You?’ he asked Hal.

  Hal nodded.

  He looked at Ty, who shook his head. ‘You missed a lot then, lad. You don’t appreciate learning until you’re away from it for a while. That school there, it’s a wonderful place. My two elder boys went there and my little ones will go when they’re old enough.’ He leaned back and again rubbed his chin. ‘Roldem,’ he said softly.

  ‘What should we do, Your Grace?’ asked Hal. ‘The King and Queen sent their daughter to safety. We are supposed to see her to Rillanon.’

  ‘Then see her there you shall,’ said the Duke. He picked up a little bell and rang it. When no one answered he rang it again, harder. After a moment, he bellowed, ‘Makepeace!’

  An old servant appeared and said, ‘Your grace?’

  ‘Send word to the harbour that my ship is to be ready to sail on the morning tide to Rillanon. And tell my wife to stop fussing over those girls.’ He glanced at the two young men and grinned. ‘We only had sons, so she aches for a daughter to dress in fine clothing and all that paint women wear.’ Turning back to the old servant, he said, ‘And ask her to see to supper. We’re entertaining royalty tonight!’

  He stood up, as did the two young men. ‘I don’t envy you, either of you,’ he said softly after the servant left. ‘Fate has set you on a path that will I think have many traps and dangers. I was called to the capital in any event so I’ll just leave a few days early. The Congress is gathering as there is much to discuss. Kesh is suing for peace and we must ask about that nonsense.’ He thought for a moment, then added, ‘Yes, let the King decide what’s to be done with the lovely princess and then you two can get back to doing whatever it was you were doing before this fiasco began.’

  Hal and Ty looked at one another.

  ‘Come!’ the Duke cried. ‘Let’s go to my favourite balcony where we can watch the sun set and drink brandy, and you can tell me about the Masters’ Court.’

  Both young men were exhausted, but they knew it was likely to be a while before they could rest. As the Duke led them away, Ty whispered, ‘Maybe when we pass out face down at the table and they have to carry us out we’ll get some rest.’

  ‘As long as it’s on a full stomach, I’ll even sleep in this road-dirt.’

  ‘I heard that,’ said the Duke. ‘Bathe first, then brandy!

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Exploration

  Light exploded.

  The blinding display was accompanied by a thunderous boom that caused both Amirantha and Sandreena to flinch and fall back a step. Magnus stood outlined in the brilliance of an oval of light that had formed before him, his hand in front of his face, shielding his eyes.

  ‘What is that?’ asked the warlock.

  The white-haired magician turned and said, ‘It’s some sort of an energy matrix. I attempted to probe the Sven-ga’ri to see if it was in any way different to those I’ve seen in the Peaks of the Quor.’ He pointed to the blinding light. ‘This is unexpected.’

  The two members of the ruling council of the Pantathians, Tak’ka and Dak’it, who had observed the magician’s examination of the alien beings called Sven-ga’ri, were also partially blinded by the light.

  Magnus blinked as his vision struggled to return to normal. He turned to the two Pantathians and asked, ‘Have you seen anything like that before?’

  ‘Never,’ said Tak’ka. ‘The Sven-ga’ri use emotions to communicate; we believe they may in part be responsible for the changes in those of us who live here compared to those who do not.’

  Magnus nodded. The story of these alien creatures was much the same as he had discovered in the Peaks of the Quor; ordered by their Dragon Lord masters to take care of these beings, the Pantathians like the Quor had diligently discharged that duty.

  Magnus looked at the brilliant white oval. ‘I think I’ll need to examine this for a while. I have an idea what it might be.’ He turned to Amirantha and Sandreena. ‘I think it might be wise if you two returned to Sorcerer’s Isle and spoke with my father.’ He took out a Tsurani translocation orb and glanced around. After a moment he nodded to himself and began a spell, holding the device before him. It took a few minutes, but then he held out the orb to Amirantha. ‘I’ve programmed this to return here. Father is very powerful, but there are a few things he can’t do, such as reach a location he’s never seen before. I don’t need that to get home. Will you please tell him?’

  ‘Tell him what?’ asked Sandreena.

  Magnus smiled and it was one of the few times either of them had seen him do that. ‘Why, tell him everything,’ he said with a chuckle. Then he s
aid to Tak’ka, ‘Might I ask for a few things?’

  ‘What do you require?’ asked the elder of the two Pantathians. The subtleties of his race’s expressions were becoming known to Magnus and he smiled. ‘Tea if you have it please, water if not. And perhaps a cushion upon which I might sit. I suspect I will be here a while studying this construction.’

  Amirantha, Warlock of the Saltumbria, took the Tsurani transport orb. ‘Will you share your suspicions? In case your father asks.’

  Magnus shrugged. ‘These beings are as alien to us as any we have ever encountered. As far as I can see they are composed entirely of energy, albeit in a coherent form. Moreover, they seem to communicate on a profound level of emotions, which may be subtle enough to convey the most nuanced concepts, but for us are incomprehensible. Imagine, if you will, hearing a group of singers, a choir. Most of us might be able to hear the entirety as a lovely blend, perhaps much as we experience our proximity to the Sven-ga’ri as a feeling of calm and wellness. Some of us might be able to listen to one voice or another within the choir, somehow isolating it from the others. But I suspect, to hold to this analogy, the Sven-ga’ri are ten thousand voices and each of them holds the ability to listen to each voice as a choir, yet each alone, simultaneously.’

  Amirantha said, ‘Interesting. But what about that oval of light?’

  ‘I think they are tired of our clumsy attempts to communicate, and are now trying something that may be as alien to them as it is to us. Energy to us is most clearly perceived as light, hence I think they are trying to provide us with a means to communicate.’

  ‘So, this is …?’

  ‘I think they are trying to teach me to read, given that I appear deaf to them.’

  Amirantha smiled. ‘Well, then, we’ll leave you to your studies and convey all we’ve seen to your father.’ He glanced at Sandreena who moved to stand next to her former lover, putting a hand upon his arm. With a final nod to the Pantathians and Magnus, Amirantha activated the orb and they were gone.