“The Prince of Krondor?” asked Tomas. He smiled down at his short friend.
Pug looked up at his boyhood foster brother; even in that tall, slightly alien figure, Pug glimpsed the image of the kitchenboy with whom he had lived as a child. “The very same. He wanted me to go oblit-
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erate the Saaur and I thought offering them a peaceful alternative might prove a wiser course.”
Tomas nodded. “Crush your enemies without mercy.” He shook his head. “I remember those impulses all too well, my friend.”
Pug allowed Miranda to escort him to Aglaranna’s throne, where he bowed and said,
“Greetings, My Lady.”
“Welcome, Pug.”
“I am grieved to learn of a friend’s departure,”
Pug said.
Aglaranna said, “He passed as happy as he could be, given his life. No one can ask more. He bade us good night and never awoke. He was at peace. For one of your race, he lived a very long time.”
Pug nodded. “But I will miss him. As I miss all the other friends of my youth.”
“I understand,” said the Queen. “That is why you should visit more often. We eledhel abide far longer than you humans.” Then considering Pug’s and Miranda’s age, she amended that to, “Most of you humans, that is.”
Pug said, “This is true.” Glancing around, he said,
“Where is Calis?”
Miranda smiled. “He’s not too far away. I suspect, anyway.”
Tomas grinned. “There’s a woman . . .” He shrugged and winked.
Pug said, “Calis?”
“One from across the ocean, whom Miranda brought to us. With two beautiful boys who need a father.”
“Is it . . . serious?” asked Pug.
Tomas laughed. “My wife’s people are very dif-
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ferent from you and me, Pug. And from my son. He is but half-elf, unique in the world, and he has spent a great deal of time among humans.” Tomas leaned over and whispered in a mock-conspiratorial tone, “I think he’s taken, but he doesn’t even know he’s tasted the hook!”
Tathar laughed and said, “This is true. Among our people we have the recognition, the sudden knowledge that a mate is before you. Not all our people know this certainty, and to them falls the difficult task of slowly building a bond with another who has also not known the recognition. With Calis and Ellia, it is the difficult way. But often it ends in a love as profound as the first.”
Miranda smiled. “I think I sensed something in her when I first found her and the boys. I think it will all work out.”
Aglaranna turned to an elf nearby and said,
“Would you carry word to my son, please, and have him attend us for supper this evening. Have him bring Ellia and her sons, too.”
The elf bowed and hurried off.
“What brings you to us?” asked Tomas.
“I wished to see my wife,” said Pug with a smile.
“And I wished an evening among friends, where the air doesn’t carry the memory of war, smoke, and blood. I wanted a quiet night before I start another quest.”
“A quest?” asked the Queen. “For what do you seek this time, magician?”
“I need to find the Saaur a homeland,” said Pug.
“Else we may have yet another war upon us before we sort out the one already here.”
Miranda said, “Well, then, we’ll leave in the 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 216
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morning.”
“I was going to go alone,” said Pug, “but the Tsurani orb is no longer working—I almost broke my neck when it left me hanging in midair—and I don’t know where I’m bound for.”
“So you need me to show you how to get around?”
“Something like that.”
Miranda smiled. “I don’t know if I will.”
“What? Why?” asked Pug.
Poking a finger into his chest, she said, “Because I like being able to do something better than you.”
At that the rest of the Queen’s court laughed, and they relaxed as pages brought wine and food; soon they were joined by Calis and the woman from across the sea, and her sons. And at least for this one night, they put thoughts of war and the threat of war away and enjoyed the company of good friends.
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Ten
Investments
JIMMY FROWNED.
Prince Patrick had just leaned over to whisper something in Francie’s ear and she blushed as she laughed. The Duke of Silden pointedly chose to ignore this breech of etiquette. The Dukes of Rodez, Euper, Sadara, and Timons glanced over and returned to their conversations. Their daughters, all resplendent in their finest gowns, allowed their gazes to linger a bit longer before returning their attentions to the various young courtiers at the table.
Dash had to turn away so as not to laugh at his brother’s unhappiness.
The hall at Castle Darkmoor was now overtaxed in the opinion of the Prince’s Master of Ceremony, a dour man named Wiggins. He had been a clerk in the court of Krondor, but had occasionally helped with state functions for the old Master, Jerome. Because of that small advantage, he had been named to the office on Patrick’s resurrection of the court in Darkmoor. He resembled nothing as much as a very nervous bird as he fluttered about the room, from one noble to the next, attempting to insure everyone’s 217
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needs were met, despite shortages of food, ale, and wine.
Mathilda, Dowager Baroness of Darkmoor, sat on the left of the Duke of Silden. While no longer young, she still possessed a court-bred ease and charm, learned while growing up among the powerful eastern nobles. The Duke, a widower, was an obvious target for a woman of her breeding. He appeared mildly interested.
Dash cast a glance back at his brother and saw that Jimmy was attempting to be interested in something said by the daughter of an eastern Earl; which one he couldn’t remember. She was a pretty enough girl in a vapid way, and Dash’s amusement at his brother’s frustration turned to sympathy. Francie was clearly the most interesting young woman in court, if not the most beautiful, and the time Jimmy had spent with her over the last couple of weeks had awakened something; at the very least, a proprietary impulse if not something deeper.
Dash knew that neither he nor his brother would be free to follow their heart’s call as long as they were in service to the crown. They were too highly born, being the sons and grandsons of Dukes. Jimmy would most likely advance to a similar high office, and Dash would probably end up an Earl if he continued in service.
Which meant neither son would have a great deal to say in the matter of whom they would wed. That detail would be up to their father to a lesser extent, and the King’s pleasure to a greater extent.
Factionism in the Kingdom was a way of life, and keeping the two realms closely allied an ongoing problem. The East had the population, the wealth, 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 219
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and the political strength. The West had the natural resources, the potential for growth, and all the problems of a frontier: enemies, disorder, and constant difficulty governing. Marrying off the eligible daughters of one realm to the sons of the other was a time-honored method of keeping the two realms close, and no more eligible son existed than the future King.
Francie glanced over at Jimmy and smiled at him, then returned her attention to Patrick. Dash leaned over and said, “We should ask Father.”
“Ask him what?” Jimmy turned, looking confused.
“Who the King wants his son to marry. You don’t think for a moment that hasn’t already been
decided, do you?”
Jimmy considered this, then smiled. “You’re probably right. If Father doesn’t know, then no one does.”
Jimmy waited until Duke Arutha looked his way, then motioned with his head. Arutha nodded, then rose and came around to stand behind Baroness Mathilda. He whispered something to the Prince, who waved him away with a smile, and moved around to where his sons stood. They bowed toward the Prince, who wasn’t looking at them, then walked from the table.
Once the three were outside of the hall, Dash observed, “We’re going to have to start turning away nobles if they continue to show up.”
Arutha said, “More are coming. The court here in Darkmoor is to be as visible and noisy as we can make it. We will find rooms for as many who arrive as possible, first here, then in the nearby city. The 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 220
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rest will be quartered outside the wall, in pavilions and campaign tents. There is to be a month of public celebration.”
Jimmy’s mouth opened in disbelief. “This can’t be true?”
“It is,” said Arutha.
Jimmy said, “But we have to finalize our deal with Duko—”
“That’s been accomplished. We sent him terms and he replied this morning.”
“What arrangement has been agreed to?” asked Dash.
Arutha motioned that they should walk. He headed out toward the central courtyard of the castle. The halls were thronged with pages, servants, and guards, attending the needs of a score of visiting nobles. “Within a month’s time, our former enemy will become Duke of the Southern Marches.”
“Lord Sutherland!” exclaimed Jimmy. “That’s incredible.”
“Patrick would rather not give him anything, and the King would prefer to name him Baron of Land’s End or something equally . . .local. I persuaded them both otherwise.”
“Why, Father?” asked Dash.
“Because Duko has, to all effects, a personal army of close to twenty-five thousand men. He may dream of something more noble than his previous calling as a sword-for-hire, but most of his soldiers have no allegiance to the Kingdom. I convinced the King that he might be the only hope for us to keep those men under control and make them Kesh’s problem rather than our own.”
Dash got a calculating expression. “If he’s a Duke 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 221
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. . . This means he answers to the Prince, and not to you.”
“I have my hands full. And if Patrick has direct control over Duko, he may come to trust him.”
Jimmy smiled. “Yet you will be advising the Prince on all matters pertaining to the Southern Marches.”
Arutha nodded. “And it keeps other political issues in balance.”
Jimmy and Dash both knew that meant Duko would be permitted to appoint his own captains to key locations along the southern borders, probably gaining titles for them. There were presently more offices than nobles to fill them due to the high mortality rate of the recent war in the West. Eastern nobles would already be pestering the King for some of those titles—more to the point, the taxes their lands brought. None of those, however, would be willing to venture to the West to directly rule them.
Absentee rulership was not an alien concept in the Kingdom, but it was frowned upon in the West.
There were too many problems—Queg, Kesh, the Brotherhood of the Dark Path, among others—to leave the administration of a Barony, let alone an Earldom or Duchy, to a bailiff or, seneschal. A few key offices would be given to western nobles’ second or third sons, so that Duko wouldn’t be able to build a structure beneath him of only personal retainers.
Jimmy said, “Let me change the subject.” He indicated the young women dotting the room. “Is there anything we should know . . .”
“About what?” queried Arutha.
Dash said, “Has Patrick made a decision on who is going to be the next Princess of Krondor?”
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Arutha glanced around, seeing if anyone was listening. “Our two most recent queens were from Roldem. Borric, and Lyam before him, were anxious to fix alliances in the East.” He put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “You have the blood of Roldem in you. You know your mother’s people. They are vain and proud of their heritage and think of themselves as a people apart. This is why we have seen so little of your mother.” There was a bitter note in Arutha’s voice neither son had heard before.
They both knew their parents’ marriage had been arranged by their grandfather, Duke James, and had been as advantageous to the Kingdom as the two marriages of the last two kings to Roldem’s royal daughters. Dash and Jimmy’s parents had always been able to maintain a pose of wedded happiness in public, though the boys both knew the marriage was far from ideal. Only now were they learning just how strained the relationship between their parents truly was.
Dash said, “So it must be a Kingdom bride?”
Arutha nodded. “The King has said so, to me, in private. And it must be an eastern noble’s daughter.
Preferably one from a Duke with a great deal of influence in the Congress of Lords.”
“Brian Silden,” said Jimmy.
“Borric has determined to let his son have the privilege of liking the woman who is to bear Isle’s future King. So there are five likely candidates for the position of Princess.”
Jimmy said, “Have you any inkling of who Patrick will ask to wed?”
Arutha regarded his son closely, and said,
“Francine will be our next queen. All that remains is 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 223
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the timing. Patrick and she have been friends since childhood. He genuinely enjoys her company. There have been far worse foundations for state marriages in our time.”
Jimmy looked stricken.
Dash said, “Are you all right?”
Jimmy glanced from his father to his brother. “I just didn’t . . . realize.”
Arutha said, “What? Are you in love with her?”
Jimmy looked at his father and said, “I’ll never know.” Without another word he turned and walked away.
Arutha looked at Dash, who said, “Let him have some time to himself.”
“I didn’t realize,” said Arutha.
“He didn’t either,” said Dash. “That’s the problem.”
“What is?”
“Taking things for granted.” Looking at his father, he said, “Did Grandfather ever ask you if you wanted to serve the crown, Father?”
Arutha looked as if this question was equally perplexing as what he had just witnessed. After a pause, he said, “No, of course not.”
“Why ‘of course not’?”
“Because I was just a boy. I began, much as you did, running errands for him, then I was given work with the Royal Pages, then the Squires.”
“But when you became a man, did he ask if you might wish to do something else?”
Arutha looked at Dash and said, “No. He never did.”
“Did you ever consider you might have had a happier life if he had?”
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Arutha was silent a moment, then said, “That may be the oddest question I’ve ever heard, son.”
Dash shrugged. “I’m full of very odd questions these days.”
“Why did you ask that?”
“Because I’m not certain I wish to continue in service to the crown.”
“What?” said Arutha. His tone was a mix of surprise and disbelief. “What would you do?”
Dash shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps return to Mister Avery’s employ. He is a very wealthy man.”
Arutha laughed. “On paper. The King may make good on repaying him by the time his
grandchildren are running Avery and Jacoby.”
Dash smiled. “If I know Roo, he’ll find a way to amass another fortune before that.”
Arutha put his hand on Dash’s shoulder and said,
“If you wish to be released from service to the crown, I can manage that. But please wait until after we get Fadawah out of Ylith. We have few enough competent men to serve.”
“I’ll agree to that.” Lowering his voice, Dash asked, “What comes next?”
“Publicly, a very large engagement party next week. During which Patrick secretly goes to Ravensburg, where he’ll meet Duko, who will kneel before him and swear fealty. Then the newly appointed Duke of the Southern Marches will return to the city and a hopefully quiet movement of soldiers will be underway. Those mercenaries who’ve been kept outside the walls will be allowed in. Many will be hired to man the garrison as others leave to find work along the Keshian border. By the time Patrick’s wedding is over and he returns to Krondor, 52893_~1.QXD 8/30/2002 10:02 AM Page 225
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the city will be firmly in our hands, without having alerted Fadawah too far in advance that he’s lost his southern command.”
Dash’s expression turned suspicious. “Where in all of this is the Duke of Krondor? Why aren’t you leading Patrick into his palace in triumph?”
“I’m needed elsewhere a while longer. There are things to be done only I can see through to the end.”
Dash said, “Forgive me if I say that sounds decidedly odd.”
“Odd or not, it’s true. Now go find your brother and see if he really is in distress. If so, go get him drunk and find a tavern wench to take his mind off of Francine.”
Dash said, “I’ll try,” and went off in search of his brother.
Arutha watched his younger son depart and stood lost in thought for a moment, then he turned and headed back to the banquet hall. There was still much that had to be arranged before any of the plans he had set in motion could continue on to fruition.
Erik von Darkmoor and Rupert Avery sat at a table in the Charging Boar, one of Darkmoor’s better taverns, when Jimmy and Dash entered. Jimmy looked drunk already, and Erik stood and signaled across the crowded common room. “Over here!”
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