Magician (115 page)

Arutha passed between his ancestors’
likenesses and entered the burial vault. He walked between the
ancient forebears of his line, entombed in the walls and upon great
catafalques Kings and queens, princes and princesses, scoundrels and
rogues, saints and scholars lined his way. At the far end of the huge
chamber he found Lyam sitting next to the catafalque that supported
his father’s stone coffin. A likeness of Borric had been carved
in the coffin’s surface, and it looked as if the late Duke of
Crydee lay sleeping.

Arutha approached slowly, for Lyam
seemed deep in thought. Lyam looked up and said, “I feared you
might come late.”

“As did I. We had wretched
weather and slow progress, but we are all here. Now, what is this
strange business? Anita told me you’ve been here all night, and
there is some mystery. What is it?”

“I have given great thought to
this matter, Arutha. The whole of the Kingdom will know within a few
hours’ time, but I wanted you to see what I have done and hear
what I must say before any others.”

“Anita said Martin was here with
you this morning. What is this, Lyam?”

Lyam stepped away from his father’s
catafalque and pointed. Inscribed upon the stones of the burial place
were the words:

HERE LIES BORRIC, THIRD
DUKE OF CRYDEE,

HUSBAND OF
CATHERINE,
FATHER OF
MARTIN,
LYAM,
> ARUTHA,
AND
CARLINE

Arutha’s lips moved, but no words
came forth. He shook his head, then said, “What madness is
this?”

Lyam came between Arutha and the
likeness of their father. “No madness, Arutha. Father
acknowledged Martin on his deathbed. He is our brother. He is the
eldest.”

Arutha’s face became contorted
with rage. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was
tormented. “What right had you to hide this from me?”

Liam raised his own voice. “All
who knew were sworn to secrecy. I could not risk anyone knowing until
the peace was made. There was too much to lose.”

Arutha shoved past his brother, looking
in disbelief at the inscription. “It all makes an evil sense.
Martin’s exclusion from the Choosing. The way Father always
kept an eye on his whereabouts. His freedom to come and go as he
pleased.” Bitterness rang in Arutha’s words. “But
why now? Why did Father acknowledge Martin after so many years of
denial?”

Lyam tried to comfort Arutha. “I’ve
pieced together what I could from Kulgan and Tully. Besides them, no
one knew, not even Fannon. Father was a guest of Brucal’s when
he was in his first year of office, after Grandfather’s death.
He tumbled a pretty serving girl and conceived Martin. It was five
years before Father knew of him. Father had come to court, met
Mother, and married. When he learned of Martin, he had already been
abandoned by his mother to the monks of Silban’s Abbey. Father
chose to let Martin remain in their care.

“When I was born, Father began to
feel remorse over having a son unknown to him, and when I was six,
Martin was ready for Choosing. Father arranged to have him brought to
Crydee. But he wouldn’t acknowledge him, for fear of shaming
Mother.”

“Then why now?”

Lyam looked at the likeness of their
father. “Who knows what passes through a man’s mind in
the moments before death? Perhaps more guilt, or some sense of honor.
Whatever the reason, he acknowledged Martin, and Brucal bore
witness.”

Anger still sounded in Arutha’s
voice. “Now we must deal with this madness, regardless of
Father’s reasons for creating it.” He fixed Lyam with a
harsh stare. “What did he say when you brought him down to see
this?”

Lyam looked away, as if pained by what
he now said “He stood silently, then I saw him weep. Finally he
said, ‘I am pleased he told you.’ Arutha, he knew.”
Lyam gripped his brother’s arm. “All those years Father
thought him ignorant of his birthright, and he knew. And never once
did he seek to turn that knowledge to his own gain.”

Arutha’s anger subsided. “Did
he say anything more?”

“Only ‘Thank you, Lyam,’
and then he left.”

Arutha paced away for a moment, then
faced Lyam. “Martin is a good man, as good a man as I’ve
ever known. I’ll be the first to say so. But this
acknowledgment! My gods, do you know what you’ve done?”

“I’m aware of my actions.”

“You’ve placed all we’ve
won over the last nine years in the balance, Lyam. Shall we fight
ambitious eastern lords who might rally in Martin’s name? Do we
end one war simply to begin an even more bitter one?”

“There will be no contestation.”

Arutha stopped his pacing. His eyes
narrowed. “What do you mean? Has Martin promised to voice no
claim?”

“No. I have decided not to oppose
Martin should he choose the crown.”

Arutha was speechless for a moment, in
shock as he regarded Lyam. For the first time he understood the
terrible doubts his brother had been voicing over being King. “You
don’t want to be King,” he said, his tone accusatory.

Lyam laughed bitterly. “No sane
man would. You have said as much yourself, brother. I don’t
know if I am a match for the burdens of kingship. But the matter is
out of my hands now. If Martin speaks for himself as King, I will
acknowledge his right.”

“His right! The royal, signet
passed to your hand, before most of the Lords of the Kingdom. You are
not sick Erland deferring to his brother’s son because of ill
health and by reason of no clear succession. You are the named Heir!”

Lyam lowered his head. “The
announcement of succession is invalid, Arutha. Rodric named me Heir
as ‘eldest conDoin male,’ which I am not. Martin is.”

Arutha confronted his brother. “A
pretty point of law, Lyam, but one that may prove the destruction of
this Kingdom! Should Martin voice a claim before the congress
assembled, the Priests of Ishap will break the crown, and the matter
passes to the Congress of Lords for resolution. Even with Guy in
hiding, there are dozens of dukes, scores of earls, and a host of
barons who would willingly cut their neighbors’ throats to
convene such a congress. Such bargaining would end with half the
estates in the Kingdom switching hands in trade for votes. It would
be a carnival!

“If you take the crown, Bas-Tyra
cannot act. But if you back Martin, many will refuse to follow. A
deadlocked congress is exactly what Guy wishes. I’ll bet all I
own he is somewhere in the city at this very moment, plotting against
such an event. If the eastern lords bolt, Guy will emerge, and many
will flock to his banner.”

Lyam appeared overwhelmed by his
brother’s words. “I cannot say what will happen, Arutha.
But I know I could not do other than I have done.”

Arutha looked on the verge of striking
Lya.m “You may have inherited the burden of Father’s
sense of family honor, but it will fall to the rest of us to deal
with the killing! Heaven’s mercy, Lyam, what do you think will
happen if some heretofore nameless huntsman sits the conDoin throne
simply because our father tumbled a pretty maid nearly forty years
ago! We shall have civil war!”

Lyam stood firm. “Should our
positions have been reversed, would you have robbed Martin of his
birthright?”

Arutha’s anger vanished. He
looked at his brother with open amazement on his face. “Gods!
You feel guilt because Father denied Martin all his life, don’t
you?” He stepped away from Lyam, as if trying to gain
perspective on him. “Should our positions have been reversed, I
most assuredly would deny Martin his birthright. After thirty-seven
years, what matter a few more days? After I was King, firm on my
throne, then I would make him a duke, give him an army to command,
name him First Adviser, whatever need be to salve my conscience, but
not until the Kingdom was secure. I would not wish Martin to play
Borric the First to Guy’s Jon the Pretender, and I would do
whatever must be done to see that would not come to pass.”

Lyam sighed with deep regret. “Then
you and I are two different sorts of men, Arutha. I told you back at
camp I thought you would make a better king than I. Perhaps you are
right, but what’s done is done.”

“Does Brucal know of this?”

“Only we three.” He looked
directly at Arutha “Only our father’s sons.”

Arutha flushed, irritated at the
remark. “Don’t misunderstand me, Lyam. I hold Martin in
no little affection, but there are issues here much larger than any
personal consideration.” He thought quietly for a moment. “Then
it is in Martin’s hands. If you had to do this, at least you
did right in not making it a public matter. There will be shock
enough should Martin come forth at the coronation. At least with
advance warning we can prepare.”

Arutha moved toward the stairs, then
stopped and faced his brother. “What you said cuts both ways,
Lyam. Perhaps because you cannot deny Martin, you’ll make a
better king than I. But as much as I love you, I’ll not let the
Kingdom be destroyed over the succession.”

Lyam seemed unable to contest with his
brother any longer. Fatigue, a weary resignation toward what fate
would bring, sounded in his words. “What will you do?”

“What must be done. I will ensure
that those who are loyal to us are forewarned. If there comes a need
to fight, then let us have the advantage of surprise.” He
paused for a moment. “I have nothing but the greatest affection
for Martin, Lyam, you must know that I hunted with him as a boy, and
he was in no small part responsible for my safely getting Anita away
from Guy’s watchdogs, a debt beyond repaying. In another time
and place, I would gladly accept him as my brother. But should it
come to bloodshed, Lyam, I’ll willingly kill him.”

Arutha left the vault of his ancestors.
Lyam stood alone, feeling the chill of ages press in upon him.

Pug looked out the window, reminiscing.
Katala came to his side, and he came out of his reverie. “You
look lovely,” he said. She was dressed in a brilliant gown of
deep red, with golden trim at the bodice and sleeves. “The
finest Duchess of the court could not match your beauty.”

She smiled at his flattery. “I
thank you, husband.” She spun, showing off the gown. “Your
Duke Caldric is the true magician, I am thinking. How his staff could
manage to find all these things and have them ready in two short
hours is true magic.” She patted at the full skirt. “These
heavy gowns will take some practice getting around in. I think I
prefer the short robes of home.” She stroked the material.
“Still, this is a lovely cloth. And in this cold world of
yours, I can see the need.” The weather had turned cooler, now
that summer was waning. In less than two months snow would begin
falling.

“Wait until winter, Katala, if
you think it’s cold now.”

William came running into the room,
from the bedroom that adjoined their own. “Mama, Papa,”
he yelled in boyish exuberance. He was dressed in a tunic and
trousers befitting a little noble, of fine material and workmanship.
He leaped into his father’s outstretched arms. “Where are
you going?” he asked with a wide-eyed look.

Pug said, “We go to see Lyam made
King, William. While we are gone, you mind the nurse and don’t
tease Fantus.”

He said he would and wouldn’t,
respectively, but his impish grin put his credibility in doubt. The
maid who was to act as William’s nurse entered and took the boy
in tow, leading him back into his own room.

Pug and Katala left the suite Caldric
had given them and walked toward the throne room. As they turned a
corner, they saw Laurie leaving his room, with Kasumi standing
nervously to one side.

Laurie brightened upon seeing them and
said, “Ah! There you are. I was hoping we’d see you two
before all the ceremonies had begun.”

Kasumi bowed to Pug, though the
magician now wore a fashionable russet-colored tunic and trousers in
place of his black robe. “Great One,” he said.

“That is a thing of the past
here, Kasumi. Please call me Pug.”

“You two look so handsome in your
new clothes and uniform,” said Katala. Laurie wore bright
clothing in the latest fashion, a yellow tunic with a sleeveless
overjacket of green, and tight-fitting black trousers tucked into
high boots. Kasumi wore the uniform of a Knight-Captain of the
LaMutian garrison, deep green tunic and trousers, and the grey
wolf’s-head tabard of LaMut.

The minstrel smiled at her. “In
all the excitement of the last few months, I had forgotten I had a
small fortune in gems with me. Since I cannot conspire to return them
to the Lord of the Shinzawai, and his son refuses to take them, I
suppose they are mine by rights. I will no longer have to worry about
finding a widow with an inn.”

Pug said, “Kasumi, how goes it
with your men?”

“Well enough, though there is
still some discomfort between them and the LaMutian soldiers. It
should pass in time. We had an encounter with the Brotherhood the
week after we left. They can fight, but we routed them. There was
much celebrating among all the men in the garrisons, both Tsurani and
LaMutian. It was a good beginning.”

It had been more than an encounter.
Word had reached Rillanon of the battle. The Dark Brothers and their
goblin allies had raided into Yabon, overrunning one of the border
garrisons, weakened during the war. The Tsurani had turned from their
march to Zun, dashed northward, and relieved the garrison. The
Tsurani had fought like madmen to save their former enemies from the
larger goblin host, which they had driven back into the mountains
north of Yabon.

Laurie winked at Pug. “Having
made something of heroes of themselves, our Tsurani friends were
given quite a welcome when they arrived here in Rillanon.”
Being distant from the center of the war, the city’s citizens
felt little fear or hatred toward their former enemies, giving them a
welcome that would have been unimaginable in the Free Cities, in
Yabon, or along the Far Coast. “I think Kasumi’s men were
a little overcome by it all.”