They halted before the throne, and Caldric announced the Duke. The King smiled, and Pug was struck by a faint resemblance to Arutha, though the King’s manner was more relaxed. He leaned forward on his throne and said, ‘Welcome to our city, cousin. It is good to see Crydee in this hall after so many years.’
Borric stepped forward and knelt before Rodric the Fourth, King of the Kingdom of the Isles. ‘I am gladdened to see Your Majesty well.’
A brief shadow passed over the monarch’s face, then he smiled again. ‘Present to us your companions.’
The Duke presented his son, and the King said, ‘Well, it is true that one of the conDoin line carries the blood of our mother’s kin besides ourself.’ Arutha bowed and backed away. Kulgan was next as one of the Duke’s advisers. Meecham, who had no rank in the Duke’s court, had stayed in his room. The King said something polite, and Pug was introduced. ‘Squire Pug of Crydee, Your Majesty, Master of Forest Deep, and member of my court.’
The King clapped his hands together and laughed. ‘The boy who kills trolls. How wonderful. Travelers have carried the tale from the far shores of Crydee, and we would hear it spoken by the author of the brave deed. We must meet later so that you may tell us of this marvel.’
Pug bowed awkwardly, feeling a thousand eyes upon him. There had been times before when he had wished the troll story had not been spread, but never so much as now.
He backed away, and the King said, ‘Tonight we will hold a ball to honor the arrival of our cousin Borric.’
He stood, arranging his purple robes around him, and pulled his golden chain of office over his head. A page placed the chain on a purple velvet cushion. The King then lifted his golden crown from his black-tressed head and handed it to another page.
The crowd bowed as he stepped down from his throne. ‘Come, cousin,’ he said to Borric, ‘let us retire to my private balcony, where we can speak without all the rigors of office. I grow weary of the pomp.’
Borric nodded and fell in next to the King, motioning Pug and the others to wait. Duke Caldric announced that the day’s audience was at an end, and that those with petitions for the King should return the next day.
Slowly the crowd moved out the two great doors at the end of the hall, while Arutha, Kulgan, and Pug stood by. Caldric approached and said, ‘I will show you to a room where you may wait. It would be well for you to stay close, should His Majesty call for your attendance.’
A steward of the court took them through a small door near the one the King had escorted Borric through. They entered a large, comfortable room with a long table in the center laden with fruit, cheese, bread, and wine. At the table were many chairs, and around the edge of the room were several divans, with plump cushions piled upon them.
Arutha crossed over to large glass doors and peered through them. ‘I can see Father and the King sitting on the royal balcony.’
Kulgan and Pug joined him and looked to where Arutha indicated. The two men were at a table, overlooking the city and the sea beyond. The King was speaking with expansive gestures, and Borric nodded as he listened.
Pug said, ‘I had not expected that His Majesty would look like you, Your Highness.’
Arutha replied with a wry smile, ‘It is not so surprising when you consider that, as my father was cousin to his father, so my mother was cousin to his mother.’
Kulgan put his hand on Pug’s shoulder. ‘Many of the noble families have more than one tie between them, Pug. Cousins who are four and five times removed will marry for reasons of politics and bring the families closer again. I doubt there is one noble family in the East that can’t claim some relationship to the crown, though it may be distant and follow along a twisted route.’
They returned to the table, and Pug nibbled at a piece of cheese. ‘The King seems in good humor,’ he said, cautiously approaching the subject all had on their minds.
Kulgan looked pleased at the circumspect manner of the boy’s comment, for after leaving Salador, Borric had cautioned them all regarding Duke Kerus’s remarks. He had ended his admonition with the old adage, ‘In the halls of power, there are no secrets, and even the deaf can hear.’
Arutha said, ‘Our monarch is a man of moods; let us hope he stays in a good one after he hears Father’s tidings.’
The afternoon slowly passed as they awaited word from the Duke. When the shadows outside had grown long, Borric suddenly appeared at a door. He crossed over to stand before them, a troubled expression on his face. ‘His Majesty spent most of the afternoon explaining his plans for the rebirth of the Kingdom.’
Arutha said, ‘Did you tell him of the Tsurani?’
The Duke nodded. ‘He listened and then calmly informed me that he would consider the matter. We will speak again in a day or so was all he said.’
Kulgan said, ‘At least he seemed in good humor.’
Borric regarded his old adviser. ‘I fear too good. I expected some sign of alarm. I do not ride across the Kingdom for minor cause, but he seemed unmoved by what I had to tell him.’
Kulgan looked worried. ‘We are overlong on this journey as it is. Let us hope that His Majesty will not take long in deciding upon a course of action.’
Borric sat heavily in a chair and reached for a glass of wine. ‘Let us hope.’
Pug walked through the door to the King’s private quarters, his mouth dry with anticipation. He was to have his interview with King Rodric in a few minutes, and he was unsettled to be alone with the ruler of the Kingdom. Each time he had been close to other powerful nobles, he had hidden in the shadow of the Duke or his son, coming forward to tell briefly what he knew of the Tsurani, then able to disappear quickly back into the background. Now he was to be the only guest of the most powerful man north of the Empire of Great Kesh.
A house steward showed him through the door to the King’s private balcony. Several servants stood around the edge of the large open veranda, and the King occupied the lone table, a carved marble affair under a large canopy.
The day was clear. Spring was coming early, as winter had before it, and there was a hint of warmth in the gusting air. Below the balcony, past the hedges and stone walls that marked its edge, Pug could see the city of Rillanon and the sea beyond. The colorful rooftops shone brightly in the midday sun, as the last snows had melted completely over the last four days. Ships sailed in and out of the harbor, and the streets teemed with citizens. The faint cries of merchants and hawkers, shouting over the noise of the streets, floated up to become a soft buzzing where the King took his midday meal.
As Pug approached the table, a servant pulled out a chair. The King turned and said, ‘Ah! Squire Pug, please take a seat.’ Pug began a bow, and the King said, ‘Enough. I don’t stand on formality when I dine with a friend.’
Pug hesitated, then said, ‘Your Majesty honors me,’ as he sat.
Rodric waved the comment way. ‘I remember what it is to be a boy in the company of men. When I was but a little older than you, I took the crown. Until then I was only my father’s son.’ His eyes got a distant look for a moment. ‘The Prince, it’s true, but still only a boy. My opinion counted for nothing, and I never seemed to satisfy my father’s expectations, in hunting, riding, sailing, or swordplay. I took many a hiding from my tutors, Caldric among them. That all changed when I became King, but I still remember what it was like.’ He turned toward Pug, and the distant expression vanished as he smiled. ‘And I do wish us to be friends.’ He glanced away and again his expression turned distant. ‘One can’t have too many friends, now, can one? And since I’m the King, there are so many who claim to be my friend, but aren’t.’ He was silent a moment, then again came out of his revery. ‘What do you think of my city?’
Pug said, ‘I have never seen anything like it, Majesty. It’s wonderful.’
Rodric looked out across the vista before them. ‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ He waved a hand, and a servant poured wine into crystal goblets. Pug sipped at his; he still hadn’t developed a taste for wine, but found this very good, light and fruity with a hint of spices. Rodric said, ‘I have tried very hard to make Rillanon a wonderful place for those who live here. I would have the day come when all the cities of the Kingdom are as fine as this, where everywhere the eye travels, there is beauty. It would take a hundred lifetimes to do that, so I can only set the pattern, building an example for those who follow to imitate. But where I find brick, I leave marble. And those who see it will know it for what it is – my legacy.’
The King seemed to ramble a bit, and Pug wasn’t sure of all that he was saying as he continued to talk about buildings and gardens and removing ugliness from view. Abruptly the King changed topics. ‘Tell me how you killed the trolls.’
Pug told him, and the King seemed to hang on every word. When the boy had finished, the King said, ‘That is a wonderful tale. It is better than the versions that have reached the court, for while it is not half so heroic, it is twice as impressive for being true. You have a stout heart, Squire Pug.’
Pug said, ‘Thank you, Majesty.’
Rodric said, ‘In your tale you mentioned the Princess Carline.’
‘Yes, Majesty?’
‘I have not seen her since she was a baby in her mother’s arms. What sort of woman has she become?’
Pug found the shift in topic surprising, but said, ‘She has become a beautiful woman, Majesty, much like her mother. She is bright and quick, if given to a little temper.’
The King nodded. ‘Her mother was a beautiful woman. If the daughter is half as lovely, she is lovely indeed. Can she reason?’
Pug looked confused. ‘Majesty?’
‘Has she a good head for reason, logic? Can she argue?’
Pug nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, Your Majesty. The Princess is very good at that.’
The King rubbed his hands together. ‘Good. I must have Borric send her for a visit. Most of these eastern ladies are vapid, without substance. I was hoping Borric gave the girl an education. I would like to meet a young woman who knew logic and philosophy, and could argue and declaim.’
Pug suddenly realized what the King had meant by arguing wasn’t what he had thought. He decided it best not to mention the discrepancy.
The King continued. ‘My ministers dun me to seek a wife and give the Kingdom an heir. I have been busy, and frankly, have found little to interest me in the court ladies – oh, they’re fine for a moonlight walk and … other things. But as the mother of my heirs? I hardly think so. But I should become serious in my search for a queen. Perhaps the only conDoin daughter would be the logical place to start.’
Pug began to mention another conDoin daughter, then stifled the impulse, remembering the tension between the King and Anita’s father. Besides, the girl was only seven.
