by Garon Whited
“I’m not sure. My first impulse is to kill him and get a new physician. I’m sure it’s a bad idea, but it’s all I have at the moment. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your effort to be nice to me.”
“Sire?”
“You already pointed out how Thomen regards this invasion of the eastern marches as his personal project. Now you’re going out of your way to assume he’s innocent until actually proven guilty. I appreciate you making the effort and coming up with ways to help me feel more certain.”
“It is, as always, my duty and my pleasure to ease the worries of Your Majesty.”
“Just so you know I notice. And thank you for it. In the meantime, on the subject of Thomen’s guilt, let me know if you think any other thoughts on it.”
“I will, Sire. On a related note, I have spoken with the Temple of Justice in Carrillon. They have investigated the mass slaughter of children.”
“Oh? Related how?”
“The deaths were wide-spread, occurring over considerable distance. However, they occurred nearly simultaneously. There seem to be no witnesses. There were also no other injuries, only the throats and near-total loss of blood.”
“I’m fast, but not that fast. They’re thinking this was a group?”
“Yes. Someone must have instigated it, but a group carried it out.”
“Like, for example, Thomen and two dozen wizards?”
“Possibly. I have asked them to continue to seek the truth.”
“Okay. Let me know what they find.”
“I shall. Now, on the subject of the canals, Dantos informs me the plainsmen dislike the eastern canal.”
“Why?” I asked. I was having trouble keeping up with all the sudden shifts of topics. Seldar, at least, had a list. I felt repeatedly blindsided. “I would think it’s a wonderful source of water.”
“Indeed. It is also a barrier, cutting off much of the southern reaches of the plains.”
“I’ll have a word with the mountain about some hills, maybe, with wide tunnels, gentle external slopes, all that stuff. Maybe every mile or so along the canal it can alternate between a tunnel through a hill and open sky. The hills will act as bridges, but will still allow access to the water. What do you think?”
“I am sure they will be overjoyed at anything you choose to do for them, Sire. They are reluctant to bother you with requests, but they are willing to speak with Dantos. It is almost as though they fear you.”
“It’s a vicious myth,” I replied, and sent a message spell into the mountain. Give it a year and the canals will be a dotted line on the map, with huge land bridges alternating with open water.
It was a busy morning.
On the bright side, I got to meet Seldar’s wife and son. Carella used to be a petite little thing; motherhood filled her out. The boy was at least two years old and rode his mother’s hip. Seldar seemed both pleased and pained when they came in. I’m guessing Carella used her status to gain entry and see the King and Seldar knew it. Still, he shifted smoothly into a social mode and introduced us.
Carella, of course, remembered me. I think she was especially delighted when I remembered her. Tallin, their son, was likewise pleased to meet me. He showed no signs of shyness, but held his arms out and demanded I pick him up. This seemed to surprise both his parents. Carella told me he was usually quite shy. I took him and held him up at eye-level. He grinned at me; I grinned back at him. He reached out and poked my teeth. I extended fangs and retracted them. This amused him to the point of laughter, much as wiggling one’s eyebrows or ears might. I know because I did those, too, with equal effect.
I played with Tallin for a bit before Carella admitted she had only come in for a moment. She gathered up the little one and departed. Tallin, of course, didn’t want to go. I gave him a magical ball of light to play with. This interested him enough for Carella to exit with a minimum of banshee-itis. I saw Seldar smiling at both of them as they exited.
Then it was back to the grind of the kingdom with Seldar. I finished breakfast and brunch, and we both sat down to lunch before Seldar ran out of things to report and questions to ask. One of the big things was putting someone, or several someones, on palace security. I was getting tired of all the psychic alarms going off on the lower door. He suggested my alarms might be removed, since Dantos posted a permanent guard detail at the door and put a similar detail on duty for monitoring communications, the palace shields, and so on. In general, I simply agreed withim. As we spoke, people kept coming in with messages for us and taking messages away. Half the things we discussed were started before the meeting was over, but I wasn’t sure we would ever finish.
However, one of the brighter notes was one of the messengers. A lot of older kids—ten to twelve years—ran around the Palace as messengers and general gofers. One of them reminded me of Heydyl, which reminded me of his mother, Lynae. For the meeting’s closing issue, I told Seldar about the two of them and asked him to spread a little word-of-mouth how this particular dressmaker might need some dress-making work. Nothing major—no subsidy, no sign His Majesty was involved, merely an unexpected uptick in business, if it could be arranged with subtlety. Seldar assured me he could find ways to be subtle. I believed him.
I wanted to call Baron Banler in Baret and see how he was going to cope with the army about to camp around his city, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right after the morning meeting. Instead, I went back to my workshop, followed by a pair of red sashes, and tried my Tort-detection spell again. Still nothing. Not even a chirp. Whatever she did to hide herself, she did it thoroughly and continuously.
After my break for magical endeavors, I felt sufficiently recovered to try calling Banler. The ruling family of Baret was still using the same mirror, so reaching him wasn’t a problem. He was nine years older, of course, but aside from a little more grey around the temples and noticeably more forehead, he was pretty much as I remembered him.
“Halar!” he said, grinning hugely. “I understand you’re feeling better?”
“That’s an understatement. How’s the river bypass?”
“Profitable. I’m enjoying it. And I don’t know how much influence you had on the Demon King, but I’ve yet to thank you for laying down the law to the creatures of the Eastrange. I should also thank you for anything you did to keep the Demon King out of my barony.”
“I’m not sure I had much effect, if any, but you’re perfectly welcome. I called about something urgent, though.”
“Oh?” His jaw set and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What’s happening?”
“The army that went through, headed east?”
“Yes?”
“It’s coming back.”
“It is?” he asked, surprised. “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did it?”
“They went off in your direction. Now they’re headed the opposite direction. Anybody smarter than a brick can draw the obvious conclusion.”
We traded stares for a moment before I chuckled. The man reminds me of Xavier, which should come as no surprise.
“They’re running out of road,” I answered, “from the feet down. I think they’ll all make it back without falling into a ravine or down a mountainside, but I won’t promise.”
“Hmm. That’s not entirely good, Halar. I mean, ‘Your Majesty’.”
“How about we just go with ‘Sire’ and try not to be too formal?” I suggested. “You’re a nobleman; we’re not at court or in front of a dozen other people. Okay?”
“Okay.” He grinned at me again, eyes merry. “I like being a familiar of the King.”
“You know I’m not allowed to marry my daughter or granddaughter off. It’s a religious thing.”
“I know. But I have daughters of my own, and I understand you may be available again, soon.”
“Oh?” I asked, suddenly interested. “Do tell!”
“From what I hear, she’s trying for a palace coup. She pretty much has it, too, with you tra
pped on the wrong side of the Range. Of course, as long as you’re alive—so to speak—she can’t remarry and you’re still the King. Hence the war.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed, nodding. “There are generally at least three sides to any story, though.”
“Three?”
“One side, the other side, and the truth.”
“The least popular side of all,” he agreed, nodding. “It’s a wonder the church of Truth stays open. People don’t want the truth. They want comfortable lies.”
“I’ve noticed. But there’s a god of truth? I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yes. It’s said his priests can’t lie. They can be wrong, of course, but they can’t actually say anything they don’t believe to be correct. It’s also said they always know when someone lies to them.”
“Hmm. That sounds awfully fishy to me. You could lie to someone and convince them, then they could take your lie to a priest of Truth, and so on.”
“Ah, but they can consult their god,” Banler answered, grinning. “When you ask god about the truth, apparently you get it.”
“I don’t think I like that,” I admitted.
“Nobody does. And yet they remain, like a particularly persistent mange. But we were talking about sides. I’ve heard one side. What’s your side? And why not give me the truth, too, if you know it?”
“Thomen is probably using dark arts to make the Queen his puppet. Through her, he’s already taken over the rulership of the kingdom. I’m willing to let him live if he lets Lissette go—he can pack his things and be exiled. Otherwise, I’ll have to free Lissette myself.”
Banler whistled.
“I had no idea. So, those idiots on my doorstep—and about to be on it again, soon—are actually taking their orders from Thomen and don’t realize it?”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“Do the other nobles know about this?”
“I… hmm. Come to think of it, no. At least, I don’t think they do.”
“Would you like them to?”
“Do you think it will help?”
“It won’t help Thomen, that’s certain. I don’t know if it will help you.”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s complicated,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “We nobles were princes not so very long ago. Now, me, I’m happy being a baron in the kingdom. It’s safer and trade has increased eight or nine-fold with my river bypass and the roads. You couldn’t pay me to go back to the old days. I know when I’m well-off!
“Some of the others, though,” he continued, rubbing one stubbled cheek, “well, they would rather rule their own pigsty than serve at a banquet table.”
“Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven?”
“A sentiment I don’t share, but yes. So, if those sorts find out Thomen is a usurper, using the Queen as a mouthpiece, while the King is off in the hinterlands,” he paused, thinking, juggling political factors I didn’t know and can’t understand. “I’d say you’d have a half-dozen regions turning back to princedoms and quitting your kingdom. If you don’t do anything about them, maybe a half-dozen more, later.”
“How would this affect Thomen and Lissette?”
“Could get Thomen killed,” he told me. “It’ll certainly keep him occupied if he wants to keep the kingdom. Might get Lissette killed too, maybe—depends on what sort of control we’re talking about and which way you decree it ought to go. ‘I want my wife back,’ is very different from ‘Kill the traitors,’ if you follow. You’ll still likely have a war or two to get back the quitters.”
“I get it. I should have called you earlier for political advice.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “You want me to help with this, Sire?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “My goal, here, is to find confirmation Thomen is as much of a traitor as I think he is—I like to be certain before ripping a man’s ribcage apart—before I free Lissette and put her in charge of the kingdom. I want her to run things for me while I go do the things I want to do.”
“Hmm,” Banler replied, scratching behind one ear. “I understand the urge to chuck it all and walk away, but… Sire, you may not be aware of this, but your wife, the Queen? She’s a woman.”
We looked at each other for several seconds. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. He didn’t look as though he was joking.
“Actually, I noticed it shortly after we married.” I thought quickly about how to spin the transfer of power to appeal to a patriarchal society. “If it comforts you any, I don’t intend to simply abandon her on the throne. She’ll still be carrying out my policies. And if she sends for me, I’ll show up and take care of whatever the problem is.” I cocked my head as if in thought and added, “Come to think of it, maybe I should have some trusted advisors in charge of calling me, instead of her. She might not want me to see how badly she goofs things up.”
“Definitely,” he agreed, nodding vigorously. “So, you want her to be your agent? A ruling queen carrying out your will? She’ll just be managing the kingdom?”
“Yes. Yes, indeed. That’s it exactly.”
“That’s not so bad,” he mused. “She’ll need advisors, definitely.”
“I agree. I’m glad you’re willing to help her out. Thank you. In the meantime, do you think you know anyone who would be helpful in turning a kingdom into a queendom in these trying times?”
“The way you describe it, I think I can find a few others.”
“Thank you, Banler,” I told him, sincerely. “Oh! The reason I called in the first place was those idiots about to be on your doorstep. Are they a problem? Do you need anything? If they’re causing trouble, I’m willing to help however I can.”
“No, they’re not a problem. Oh, there are little things, only to be expected when the army is encamped. Some petty theft, some fights, a few murders—the usual for any city, I’d say. Prices go up, of course, but they go down again when the army leaves.” He shrugged. “It’s always some trouble. I’d have to say it’s mostly a good thing. After all, I’m a loyal subject of Her Majesty. They’re not here to take the place.”
“Fair enough.”
“You do know, though, they’ll march north and take the pass if they can’t take the southern Kingsroad, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’m aware of it. They’ll try to go through Vathula. I have it on good authority this will be difficult.”
“If you trust the Duke of Vathula.”
“I don’t, but he’ll serve me rather than Thomen.”
“Good point.”
“Even if they eventually make it through, the army will have to march down a fairly narrow trail with mountains, cliffs, and steep slopes on both sides. If I recall properly, the trail is mostly straight, but has slight curves to it, back and forth, cutting visibility. The head of the army won’t be able to see the tail, and vice versa. If they’re strung out enough, neither end will be able to see the middle, either.”
“I see you have a plan. I think I’ll just let you get on with it.”
“Plan? Me? I’m making this up as I go.”
“You will forgive me, Sire, if I don’t take you at your word?”
“I like you, Banler. I’ll forgive anything short of treason. Eventually.”
“Good to know. Now, how else may I be of service?”
“Actually, I didn’t call to ask for anything. I only wanted to know if the army was a problem and if I could help. If not, then I’m done. Although,” I added, as an afterthought, “you might let me know what they’re up to, if and when you find out.”
“Of course, Sire. I would like to ask a favor, however.”
“I am all attention.”
“You recall my daughter, Rialla?”
“Uh… yes, I think so. Didn’t we meet several years ago?”
“Ah! I see. Yes, you did, but the Demon King met her more recently and more frequently. At least, he saw fit to have her back after each child.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
>
“I’m so sorry, Banler.”
“Sorry?” he asked, surprised. “What? Why?”
“Uh, maybe I misunderstood. You were saying something about a favor?”
“Yes. I’d like you to take her back to the Palace at Carrillon, if and when you go there.”
“I’m not against it, but why?”
“Well, the life of a King’s Consort is a good one—as long as it’s not the Demon King, of course. Now that you’re yourself again, the Queen’s kicked out the consorts and concubines. To be honest, I’m not any too sure what to do with her. I’d be honored to have you accept her as a gift. And your sons can come with her, to grow up in the Palace with the others, if you like.”
What was I going to say to that? My options were “Yes, I’d love to have a consort with my kids move in with me and my wife,” or “No way, I’m not taking responsibility for my alter-ego’s illegitimate children.”
Somewhere, there’s a orb of black, enchanted glass full of an evil spirit—and demonic laughter.
Culturally, Banler was being a perfectly decent sort. Noblemen thought trading daughters around for goodwill and family linkages was simply good business. Judging by his demeanor, Banler was actually trying to be nice. Rialla would live in the Royal Palace. Her children—our children—would grow up as noblemen and distant-but-potential heirs to the throne, and Rialla—apparently a favorite of the Demon King, therefore possibly one I, too, would favor—would be in a position to positively impact my feelings on the Barony of Baret.
I don’t think Banler took my desire to make Lissette an actual ruler too seriously. Maybe he was assuming I would be around a lot, lurking in the basement or in some hidden retreat.
From his viewpoint, though, he was being kind to Rialla and generous to me, thinking this arrangement would make everybody involved happier. That is, Rialla, me, and the children—two sons, if I recalled T’yl’s report correctly. Not so much for Lissette, of course. I doubted he was thinking in terms of how to support them, or about how to give them a proper inheritance. Banler isn’t that sort of man. He was trying to do what was best for them.