Magician (98 page)

The king sat in a pavilion on a balcony
overlooking the harbour. Below, a mountain river passed directly
before the palace, part of the original defense design though no
longer needed as a moat. Graceful bridges could be seen arching above
it, carrying people from one side of the river to the other.

King Rodric sat, seemingly attentive to
what Kasumi was saying. He toyed absently with a golden ball in his
right hand, while Kasumi outlined in detail the Emperor’s
message of peace.

Rodric was silent for a while after
Kasumi finished, as if weighing what he had heard. Kasumi handed a
sheaf of documents to Duke Caldric, then waited for the King’s
answer. After another moment of silence Kasumi added, “The
Emperor’s proposals are outlined in these parchments in detail,
Your Majesty, should you wish to study them at your leisure. I will
wait upon your convenience to carry your reply.”

Still Rodric was silent, and the
courtiers gathered nearby looked at one another nervously Kasumi was
about to speak again when the King said, “I am always amused
when watching my little subjects hurrying about the city, like so
many ants. I often wonder what they think, living out their simple
little lives.” He turned to look at the two emissaries. “You
know, I could order any one of them put to death. Just pick one out,
from this very balcony, should I choose I could just say to my
guards, ‘See that fellow in the blue cap? Go hack his head
off,’ and they would, you know. That’s because I’m
King.”

Laurie felt a chill run up his back.
This was worse than anything he had imagined. The King seemed not to
have heard a single word spoken Kasumi said very quietly in the
Tsurani language, “If we should fail, one of us must carry word
back to my father.”

At this, the King’s head snapped
up His eyes grew wide, and he spoke with a tremble in his voice “What
is this?” His voice rose in pitch “I will have no one
whispering!” His face took on a feral appearance “You
know they are always whispering about me, the disloyal ones. But I
know who they are, and I will see them on their knees before me, yes
I will. That traitor Kerus was on his knees before I had him hanged.
I would have hanged his family had they not fled to Kesh.” He
then studied Kasumi. “You think to trick me with your strange
story and these so-called documents. Any fool could see through your
guise. You are spies!”

Duke Caldric looked pained and tried to
calm the King. Several guards stood nearby, shifting their weight
from foot to foot, uncomfortable at what they were hearing.

The King pushed the solicitous Duke
away. His voice took on a near-hysterical tone “You are agents
of that traitor Borric. He and my uncle were plotting to take my
throne. But I stopped that. My uncle Erland is dead . . .” He
paused for a moment, as if confused. “No, I mean he is ill.
That is why my loyal Duke Guy was sent from Bas-Tyra to rule Krondor
until my beloved uncle was well . . .” His eyes seemed to clear
for a moment, then he said, “I am not feeling well Please
excuse me I will speak to you again tomorrow.” He rose from his
chair. After he had taken a step, he turned back to look at Laurie
and Kasumi “What was it you wanted to see me about? Oh yes,
peace. Yes, that is good. This war is a terrible thing. We must end
it so that I can go back to my building. We must begin the building
again.”

A page took the King’s arm and
led him away. The Royal Chancellor said, “Follow me, and say
nothing.”

He hurried them through the palace and
led them to a room with two guards before the door. One guard opened
the door for them, and they entered Inside they found a bedroom with
two large beds and a table with chairs in the corner. The Chancellor
said, “Your arrival is poorly timed. Our King is, as you no
doubt can see, a sick man, and I fear that he will not recover. I
hope he will be better able to understand your message tomorrow.
Please stay here until you are sent for. A meal will be brought to
you.”

He crossed over to the door, and before
he left said, “Until tomorrow.”

A shout awoke them in the night. Laurie
rose quickly and went to the window Peering through the curtains, he
could see a figure on the balcony below. In his nightshirt, King
Rodric stood sword in hand, poking into the bushes. Laurie opened the
window as Kasumi joined him. From below they could hear the King’s
cries: “Assassins! They have come!” Guards ran out and
searched the bushes, while court pages led the shrieking monarch back
to his room.

Kasumi said, “In truth, the gods
have touched him. They must surely hate your nation.”

Laurie said, “I am afraid, friend
Kasumi, that the gods have little to do with this. Right now I think
we had best see to finding a way out of here. I have a feeling that
His Royal Majesty is ill suited for the finer points of negotiating a
peace. I think we had best make our way west and speak with Duke
Borric.”

“Will he be able to stop the war,
this Duke?”

Laurie crossed over to the chair upon
which his clothing was draped. Picking up his tunic, he said, “I
hope so. If the lords here can watch the King behave in such a manner
and do nothing, then we will have civil war soon. Better to settle
one war before beginning another.”

They dressed quickly Laurie said, “Let
us hope we can find a ship putting out on the morning tide. If the
King orders the port closed, we are trapped. It is a long swim.”

As they gathered up their belongings,
the door opened and the Royal Chancellor entered. He stopped and saw
them standing there, fully dressed. “Good,” he said,
quickly closing the door. “You have as much sense as I had
hoped you would. The King has ordered the spies put to death.”

Laurie was incredulous “He thinks
us spies?”

Duke Caldric sat in one of the chairs
by the table, fatigue clearly showing on his face. “Who knows
what His Majesty is thinking, these days? There are a few of us who
try to stay his more terrible impulses, but it becomes more and more
difficult each day. There is a sickness in him that is terrible to
watch. Years ago he was an impetuous man, it is true, but there was
also a vision to his plans, a certain mad brilliance that could have
made this the greatest nation in Midkemia.

“There are many in the court now
who take advantage of him, using his fears to further their own
designs. I am afraid that soon I will be branded traitor and join the
others in death.”

Kasumi buckled on his sword. “Why
stay, Your Grace? If this is true, why not come with us to Duke
Borric?”

The Duke looked at the older son of the
Shinzawai. “I am a noble of the Kingdom, and he is my King I
must do whatever I can to keep him from harming the Kingdom, even if
the price is my life, but I cannot raise arms against him, nor aid
those who do. I don’t know how things are with your world,
Tsurani, but here I must stay. He is my King.”

Kasumi nodded “I understand. In
your place, I would do the same. You are a brave man, Duke Caldric.”

The Duke stood. “I am a tired
man. The King has taken strong drink, from my hand. He will drink
from no other, for he fears poison. I had the chirurgeon give him
something for sleep. You should be out to sea when he awakens. I
don’t know if he will remember your visit, but rest assured
that someone will remind him within a day, or two at the outside So
do not linger. Make straight for Lord Borric and tell him what has
happened.”

Laurie said, “Is Prince Erland
truly dead?”

“Yes. Word reached us a week ago
His failing health could not withstand the cold dungeon. Borric is
now heir to the throne. Rodric has never wed: his fear of others is
too deep. The fate of the Kingdom rests with Borric Tell him so.”

They crossed to the door. Before the
Duke opened it, he said, “Also tell him that it is likely I
will be dead should he come to Rillanon. It will be a good thing, for
I would have to stand against any who raised arms against the Royal
Standard.”

Before Laurie or Kasumi could say
anything, he opened the door. Two guards stood outside, and the Duke
ordered them to escort Laurie and Kasumi to the docks. “The
Royal Swallow
is anchored in the harbour. Give this to the
captain.” He held out a piece of paper to Laurie. “It is
a royal warrant, commanding him to carry you to Salador.” He
held out a second paper. “This is another, commanding any of
the Armies of the Kingdom to aid your travel.”

They grasped each other by the hand,
then the two emissaries followed the guards down the corridor. Laurie
looked over his shoulder at Caldric as they left. The old Duke
waited, stoop-shouldered and tired, his face lined by worry and
sorrow, as well as fear. As they turned a corner, losing sight of the
Duke, Laurie thought no price in the world would make him exchange
places with that old man.

The horses were lathered. The riders
whipped them up the hill. They were on the last leg of their journey
to Lord Borric, begun over a month before, and the end was in sight.
The
Royal Swallow
had sped them to Salador, where they had
left at once for the West. They had slept little along the way,
trading for fresh mounts or commandeering them, whenever possible,
from horse patrols with the royal warrant given them by Caldric
Laurie wasn’t sure, but he suspected they had covered the
distance faster than it had ever been traveled before.

Several times since leaving Zun, they
had been challenged by soldiers. Each time they had presented the
Chancellor’s warrant and were passed through. Now they
approached the Duke’s camp.

The Tsurani Warlord had unleashed his
major offensive. The Kingdom forces had held for a week, then
collapsed, when ten thousand fresh Tsurani soldiers had come pouring
through their lines, tipping the balance. The fighting had been
bitter then, a raging, running battle lasting three days, before the
Kingdom army was finally routed. When it was over, a large portion of
the front had fallen, and the Tsurani had thrown up a salient out of
the North Pass.

Now the elves and dwarves, as well as
the castles of the Far Coast, were cut off from the main force of the
Kingdom army. There was no communication of any sort, for the pigeons
used to carry messages had been destroyed when the old camp had been
overrun. The fate of the other fronts was unknown.

The Armies of the West were regrouping,
and it took Laurie and Kasumi some time to find the headquarters
camp. As they rode up to the command pavilion, they saw signs of
bitter defeat on every side. It was the worst setback of the war for
the Kingdom. Everywhere they looked they saw wounded or sick men, and
those who showed no wounds had the look of despair.

A guard sergeant inspected their
warrant and sent a guard with them to show them where the Duke’s
tent stood. They reached the large command tent, and a lackey took
their mounts from them as the guard went inside. A moment later a
tall young man, blond-bearded and wearing the tabard of Crydee, came
out. Behind him appeared a stout man with a grey beard—a
magician by his garb—and another man, large, with a ragged scar
down his face. Laurie wondered if they might be old friends Pug had
spoken of, but quickly focused his attention on the young officer,
who stopped before him. “I bring a message to Lord Borric.”

The young man smiled a bitter smile,
then said, “You may give me the message, sir. I am Lyam, his
son.”

Laurie said, “I mean no
disrespect, Highness, but I must speak with the Duke in person. So I
was instructed by Duke Caldric.”

At mention of the Royal Chancellor’s
name, Lyam exchanged glances with his companions, then held aside the
tent flap. Laurie and Kasumi entered, the others following. Inside,
there was a small brazier burning and a large table with maps upon
it. Lyam led them to another section of the huge tent, curtained off
from the rest. He pulled back the hanging, and they saw a man lying
upon a sleeping pallet.

He was a tall man, with dark hair
streaked with grey. His face was drawn, drained of blood, his lips
nearly blue. His breathing was ragged, each breath rattling loudly as
he slept. He wore clean bed clothing, but heavy bandages could be
seen beneath his loose collar.

Lyam put back the hanging as another
man entered the tent. Old, with a near-white mane of hair, he was
still erect and broad-shouldered. Softly he said, “What is
this?”

Lyam answered, “These men bring
messages for Father from Caldric.”

The old warrior stuck out his hand.
“Give them to me.”

When Laurie hesitated, the man nearly
barked, “Damn it, fellow, I’m Brucal. With Borric
wounded, I’m commander of the Armies of the West.”

Laurie said, “I’ve no
written message, Your Grace. Duke Caldric says to introduce my
companion. This is Kasumi of the Shinzawai, emissary of the Emperor
of Tsuranuanni, who carries an offering of peace to the King.”

Lyam said, “Is there to be peace
at last?”

Laurie shook his head. “Sadly,
no. The Duke also said to say this: the King is mad, and the Duke of
Bas-Tyra has slain Prince Erland. He fears only Lord Borric can save
the Kingdom.”

Brucal was visibly shaken by the news.
To Lyam he quietly said, “Now we know the rumors to be true.
Erland was Guy’s prisoner. Erland dead. I can scarcely believe
it.” Shaking off his shock, he said, “Lyam, I know your
mind is upon your father now, but you must bend thought to this: your
father is near death; you will soon be Duke of Crydee. And with
Erland dead, you will also be heir to the throne by right of birth.”

Brucal sat heavily upon a stool near
the map table. “This is a heavy burden thrust upon you, Lyam,
but others in the West will look to you for leadership as they once
looked to your father. If there was ever any love between the two
realms, it is now strained to the breaking point, with Guy upon the
throne in Krondor. It is now clear for all to see, Bas-Tyra means to
be King, for a mad Rodric cannot be allowed his throne much longer.”
He fixed Lyam with a steady gaze. “You will soon have to decide
what we in the West shall do. Upon your word, we have civil war.”