A Crown Imperilled

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jim shouted.

‘Land ho!’ He had been detailed to the day watch and just happened to be in the forward rigging when the first smudge on the horizon indicated that their destination was in sight. With a sharp wind and a following tide, they would be landing in Roldem within three hours at this rate.

He had been frantically trying to gather as much information as possible before the King’s journey to Roldem to meet with the Emperor of Kesh. The meeting was unprecedented and given recent history, Jim had no doubt that magic was involved in the decision. No monarch of Kesh had ever left the Overn Deep, let alone ventured beyond the borders to visit a foreign ruler. From the Keshian perspective they were all social inferiors.

On the other hand, Sezioti was an unusual emperor by Keshian Trueblood standards, being a scholar rather than a hunter. Hunting was the foundation of Trueblood culture, back to the dawn of time when the lion-hunters and crocodile-hunters of the Overn Deep shore roamed, a dream of empire not even within their minds.

If Jim had been unconvinced before about the prevalent use of magic to destroy the various intelligence services, subvert nobles to treason, and otherwise totally ruin his life, this was the ultimate proof. For even if the Emperor was untouched by magic, his advisors and many within the Gallery of Lords and Masters must have been influenced for this massive change in Keshian foreign policy to take place.

He had undertaken to send a message to Pug, though the gods only knew how long it would take to reach him given the current lack of magical transport.

When news had come that the King was entertaining the Princess of Roldem, Jim began using his contacts at the palace to gather intelligence as best he could. He debated returning in his role of Lord Jamison, but decided against it. His grandfather’s return to health showed that whatever plan Sir William Alcorn had which required the negation of the Duke’s influence, it was tied to this peace negotiation in Roldem.

Anne had proven invaluable in getting what information she could from the palace. Princess Stephane was well, in the company of two young men whom Jim knew would die to protect her. She had said that King Gregory had given Stephane a state welcome, despite the odd circumstances of her arrival, and by some adroit eavesdropping, Anne had pieced together most of what had happened in Roldem which had caused the Princess to flee.

So Jim decided if he couldn’t openly travel as part of the King’s entourage, he would travel on the same ship as a common sailor. His only problem was that the King and his guests travelled on a Royal Navy ship, and passing as one of the crew was nearly impossible. He had almost been caught twice, once sneaking into the palace and again as he left, but when he finally was back at the docks he had in his possession a very convincing transfer order signed by an admiral whose signature Jim had forged more than a dozen times.

So, Able Seaman Tuckford Jones had reported to the Royal Gallant hours before she set sail. Jim knew enough both about common sailors’ duties and military protocol that he managed to fit in, just about.

He had adroitly avoided the rare occasion when he might be recognized by Hal or Ty, and now he was mere hours away from resuming his position as head of the Isles’ intelligence apparatus. And that meant finding Lady Franciezka Sorboz. He found himself surprisingly anxious to find her, and was forced to admit to himself that he was probably in love for the first time in his life. He found it ironic that she was probably the one women he had bedded he couldn’t have if he wished. He had always wondered what it was about women that made him attractive; the more of a bastard he was, the more they wanted him. Franciezka was the exception: she was in her own way as big a ‘bastard’ as he was. Perhaps that was what drew him; she was the only woman who could truly understand him for what he was. Moreover, he was oddly taken by the notion that his most passionate lover was also a woman who could probably murder him with her bare hands should the need arise. With a rueful shake of his head, he considered his life a very odd one, indeed.

He scampered down the ratlines and reached the deck. Moving with purpose always saved him from being put to an unwelcome task by one of the mates. As sailors went, Jim was neither a malingerer nor a volunteer. He stood his watch quietly, competently, and without complaint. He was always affable with the other crew on his watch, but made no close friends or bitter enemies. He worked diligently at being as nondescript as possible and usually succeeded.

Jim made his way to the companionway down to the lower deck and then into the crews quarters. He had little by way of personal belongings, so he threw together his kit quickly. A small bag he could throw over his shoulders, and the only important thing within was a pair of low-cut boots he could don when he reached the shore. Jim’s impersonation of a sailor was perfect in all details, save one: he didn’t spend enough time out of boots to develop the heavy calluses on his feet that made walking barefoot over cobbles tolerable.

He needed to find Franciezka. He had a good idea where to look, but that was no guarantee he would find her. But unlike the Isles, he had few eyes and ears in Roldem. Still, standing around and doing nothing was not his best choice, so he began to plot.

Hearing footsteps coming down from above, he moved away from his hammock, making sure his kit bag was stowed, then headed for the rope locker in the forecastle. He listened as two sailors came down and did as he had just done, gathered their kits together in anticipation of a swift departure from the ship.

Jim had planned on being among those sailors detailed to carry luggage to the King of Roldem’s palace. That changed when he overheard the second mate telling the cargo master that the palace luggage would be handled by garrison soldiers, and the ship’s crew would only help offload the commercial cargo.

So he waited until the quarters were again empty then hurried back on deck. As he had expected, no one noticed his coming and going, so he hurried to the ratlines and again climbed to the topgallants. He would linger up there repairing a non-existent crack with a rope brace until it was time to reef sail.

Time passed as Jim scampered about in the rigging, ignoring certain orders and effectively hiding himself from view behind sails when necessary. His one goal was to avoid cargo duty, for that would last for hours and keep him from reaching the palace quickly.

At last the ship sailed into the harbour. Since they were flying the King’s flag along with a hastily-fashioned pennant to denote the Princess of the Royal House of Roldem, shipping in the harbour came to a standstill to allow the royal guests a swift passage.

Jim paused for a moment to stare in amazement at the imperial dromon from Kesh that the Emperor’s agents had chosen. As no Emperor had ever left Kesh’s shores before, no royal transport had ever been required before. Jim recognized it at once as an imperial naval flagship, the vessel of some Trueblood admiral. The Truebloods of the Overn Deep were only freshwater sailors, and although the Overn was a large enough body of water that storms and tides were a problem, at its worst it was nothing compared to the unpredictability of the deep oceans on Midkemia. Three moons ensured that only a veteran captain could navigate uncharted waters.

As a result Kesh tended to be a nation of coast-huggers, comfortable with patrolling the shallows near home, and relying on mostly overland trade, with the Kingdom and Roldemish ships carrying cargo between those two nations. A few brave and resourceful Keshian traders had, of course, mastered the tides of the Sea of Kingdoms and made a handsome profit trading between Kesh and Roldem or Rillanon directly, but they were few and far between.

This ship had been refitted in a hurry, but even so the result was nothing short of miraculous. Every trim was golden or ivory, brilliant in the sun. The shutters on the sterncastle looked to be fashioned of ebony, an impossibly dense wood never used on ships because it had a tendency to sink. Nothing on this ship was base or mean. From his vantage point aloft, it looked as if the decks had been refurbished with teak. He laughed. Knowing the Keshians, this would be the only occasion on which the Emperor of Kesh would undertake an ocean journey, but the ship would never been used again, just in case the Emperor might decide to go fishing one day. All royals were prone to the gaudy and wasteful, Jim knew, but no one did it on as grand a scale as the Keshians. Even the banner, bearing the royal hawks of Kesh, looked to have been sewn with pure gold thread.

The King’s ship eased into its berth as Jim furled the sails. When he had finished tying off, he kept out of the view of the bosun’s mate and watched as the main hatch was unlatched and moved, and cargo nets were swung into place, while the royal party departed from the rear gangway. The gangway was a lovely device, thought Jim, a canopied covered little landing with stairs and rails that ran right down to the docks. Jim took his time moving to the tip of the yardarm, then dropped a rope and swung down to the docks, everyone on the decks being too focused on the royals departing or on cargo duty to notice him. He wouldn’t be missed until that night when he didn’t show up to receive his pay.

Moving along the docks he saw a party of nobles waiting to greet King Gregory and his retinue. Jim did a double-take for it appeared that Sir William Alcorn was waiting to meet the King, but upon close inspection it was a different man. The hairstyle was Roldemish, parted in the middle and left to fall on both sides to just below the ears, while Sir William’s hair flowed to his shoulders. But the resemblance was uncanny.

‘You!’ shouted a voice and Jim saw a Roldemish noble pointing at him. ‘Come here and carry this!’

Jim knew better than to run so he lowered his gaze and ambled over. He saw bags sitting behind a roped-off area and wondered for a moment why he was being asked to fetch luggage that would be brought along to the palace in quick order. He looked at the noble who had ordered him over and recognized Lord Servan, nephew to the King.

‘My lord?’ asked Jim in neutral tone. He knew that this man was Franciezka’s most highly placed agent within the palace, and wasn’t sure if she knew that he knew. So he decided to play the role of common seaman until he knew what was going on.

‘Take these at once to the Queen’s apartment.’ He took off his gloves and pulled out a piece of parchment and a travelling writing case. ‘Your back, sailor.’

Jim turned and bent over so that Servan could rest the parchment on his back. He heard the noble spit into the dry ink, then felt as he scribbled something. As he wrote, Servan said, ‘My lady bade me find you as soon as this ship landed, Lord Jim. She warns you to be cautious in coming to the palace. Lord John Worthington’s men are everywhere.’

‘Is that Lord John in the deep blue coat?’

‘Yes,’ said Servan, affixing his seal to the note. ‘This orders you personally to deliver these two bags to the Queen’s major domo personally. He’s been instructed to take you to my lady.’

‘Whose bags are these?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Servan with a smile. ‘Baggage gets lost all the time in the palace. It’ll find its owner sooner or later.’

Picking up the bags, Jim said, ‘If you can slip word to Duke Hal that I’m in the palace, that would be appreciated.’

‘Duke Hal? His father’s dead?’

‘Unfortunately, and King Gregory has named him “beloved cousin,” publicly, twice.’

Servan winced. ‘I’ll get word to him. You’ll find him?’

‘I’ll find him.’

Jim picked up the bags and hurried after the first carriage that was rolling out of the docks. The pace of the carriage was slow as crowds were pressing to cheer the foreign king and his party. There was a holiday feeling to the scene that lay at odds with what was really underway, which Jim feared was black murder and treason.

Keeping to the side of the carriage away from most of the guards lining the road, the nondescript sailor hauling two bags up the hill garnered scant notice.

Jim barely put the bags down before he was being hustled off by a servant barking orders that he follow her. He did as he was ordered, and was taken around the periphery of the royal apartment to a set of rooms occupied by Lady Franciezka Sorboz.

Franciezka waved away the servant and inspected Jim head to foot. ‘I think I’ve seen you less kempt, but I can’t recall when.’ Her face was set in a controlled, faint smile, but her eyes shone with moisture.

Jim began to speak, then suddenly was without words. He took two strides across the room and took her in his arms. After a deep and prolonged kiss, he whispered, ‘I thought I might never see you again.’

‘And I you,’ she whispered back. She forced herself back to control and said, ‘And you reek. You need a bath.’

‘I need a bath, a shave, and a change of clothing.’

‘I have a bath drawn in the next room.’

‘Are you joining me?’

She spun out of his reach. ‘As much as I might like to, Jim, we do not have time if you’re going to sneak about and talk to all those people who you need to sneak about and talk to.’

Jim frowned and turned his mind to the business at hand. ‘Clothing?’

‘I have a complete set.’

‘Really?’

‘I thought you might need court clothing, and besides,’ she added with a slight smile, ‘I know your size intimately.’

In the side room he found a tub with warm water waiting. He quickly stripped off his clothing and stepped in. A moment later Franciezka entered with a shaving mug, brush, and razor. He lathered up his hair with a delicate scented shampoo she kept for her own use. The scent of it reminded him he was aching to touch her again.

She poured a bucket of warm water over his head and said, ‘Lie back and I’ll shave you.’

While she did so she went on, ‘I discovered something deeply troubling after you left, Jim.’

‘Only one thing?’ he said brightly.

‘Never make me laugh or get angry when I have a razor next to your throat.’

‘Fair point. Sorry I interrupted.’

‘After you left I retired to my villa and helped the Princess to escape.’

He laughed and said, ‘Now she’s back, so one wonders what good all that did.’ Feeling the sudden pressure of her razor against his throat he said, ‘Sorry,’ and fell silent again.

‘She was away from Lord John, which was the point.’ She deftly scraped his cheek. ‘Word reached me of something odd taking place, and the servants being barred from the Lord John’s quarters.’

‘So you snuck back- Ow!’

She had nicked his neck.

‘Stop interrupting! So I snuck back into the palace and watched through a window. I saw the damnedest meeting imaginable. Lord John hosted two other men: Sir William Alcorn and a Keshian prince-’

He grabbed her wrist so that she couldn’t nick him again. ‘Harfum?’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘How did you know?’

‘A pattern. What did you learn?’

She continued to shave him. ‘First, all three of them appear to be the same man, or else some mother somewhere had triplet sons born in three nations to three noble families at the same time.’ She finished and handed him a towel. He sat motionless for a long moment, stunned by the news. ‘The same …’ He let the thought trail off. ‘The third player.’

‘Whoever was behind the war between the Isles and Kesh, certainly,’ she added. ‘We know the war made no sense, particularly given how it ended, and how this benefits the third player …’ Again a thought was left unfinished.

He wiped the residue soap off his face. ‘How long before I insinuate myself into the royal hullabaloo?’

‘All the nobles are resting while their luggage is being unpacked. I expect you’ll want to sneak about a bit and speak to someone or another.’

‘Hal is now Duke of Crydee. His father perished before the siege of Ylith. I want to speak to him and Ty Hawkins.’

‘You have some time. Why?’

He reached over and grabbed her, hauling her into the tub with him. She shrieked for a moment, then her cries turned to laughter.

‘Too long I have thought about this reunion, Franciezka, and too long have I thought about what I would say. I’ll sneak about later.’

She kissed him. ‘Shut up or I’ll find that razor.’

He returned the kiss and began unfastening wet laces.

Miranda looked at the matrix and probed it, pulling back instantly. ‘There is a demonic element there; subtle, which is why you missed it, but there all the same.’

Pug and Magnus were both silent for a moment, then Pug said, ‘Is it a trap?

‘It is hard to judge. As I’m sure you’ve both come to appreciate, it’s a complex energy net.’ Miranda overlapped her outstretched fingers, as if forming a grid. ‘Interwoven spells, and something else, other energy states …’ She closed her eyes for a moment, then they popped wide open. ‘We need Nakor.’

And she was gone. While the three of them had been examining the matrix, Nakor had been in another part of the building exploring the Pantathian archives with a guide.

Magnus said, ‘I don’t know what unnerves me more, that she is so exactly like mother or how easily I forget she’s not mother.’

‘I also have to force my mind to that-’

Suddenly she was back with Nakor standing next to her. With a grin he said, ‘Pug! Magnus! There are some wonderful volumes and scrolls here. A lot of history …’ He stopped speaking as he saw the energy field behind his three companions and pushed past them. He looked at the large oval of light. ‘This is the matrix?’ He leaned over until his nose was less than an inch away. ‘This is wonderful.’ He sat back, his hands just inches away from the surface, but not touching it. ‘Demon, yes,’ he said. ‘But something else, something …’ He nearly jumped back. ‘I recognize it.’

‘What is it?’ asked Pug, struggling to cope with the appearance of his dead friend as he had his dead wife.

‘I felt this in the pit on Omadrabar. There is a touch of the Dread here.’ He glanced at Magnus.

‘We think it might be Valheru.’

Nakor nodded. ‘Yes, I sense it. Elf, Valheru may be what I’ve missed, Dread, demon … But nothing human. This was created a very long time ago, by people who were not human. No hint of dwarf or goblin either! This is from before the Chaos Wars!’

‘Tomas said the Sven-ga’ri in the Peaks of the Quor were already there before humans came to Midkemia.’

Grinning, Nakor rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s a lock, I think, and picking it will take some time.’ He closed his eyes, hummed a nameless tune, then said, ‘Ah! Dragon! There’s dragon essence here, as well.’ He laughed aloud. ‘All the ancient races! This is quite a lock!’ He looked around. ‘Don’t be shy. Come, see what’s inside!’ He closed his eyes as if meditating, and the other three sat and joined him in studying the matrix with all the magical skill they possessed.

Later Jim and Franciezka lay in bed, entwined in one another’s embrace, her head on his chest. ‘You’re a very bad man, Jim Jamison,’ she said softly.

‘Please tell me I have a few good qualities you’re fond of?’

‘That’s just my point.’ She pushed herself up on one elbow. ‘I am too fond of you. Fool, I’ve tried to kill you twice.’

He grinned. ‘I like to think that’s because you didn’t know me well at the time.’

‘Perhaps it was because I got to know you better?’

He kissed her. ‘Seriously, what are we to do?’

She laid her head back on his shoulder and said, ‘About us, or about everything else?’

‘I fear “us” depends on everything else.’

She sighed. ‘Well, then, to business. I have a few agents I can trust inside the palace. Fewer in the city. None beyond our shores.’

‘I am in similar circumstances,’ he said.

‘So let us compare what we know.’

They spent half an hour exchanging information and when they had, Jim said, ‘I think our instincts served us well! There is an unknown player in all this and I believe Kesh is as much a victim of this player as is Isles.’

‘Explaining that to your King when he contemplates the losses you’ve taken in the west may prove difficult.’

‘Gregory is not a bellicose man. He will consider peace if offered at reasonable terms.’

‘What are reasonable terms?’ she asked.

‘Let’s worry about that after we can convince someone in the imperial household that Kesh needs to be reasonable, and not try to dictate out of a presumption of victory. The armistice is unsteady, to my eye.’

‘None of this makes sense,’ Franciezka observed.

‘It does if the reason behind it is not what you would think.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You and I have had enough experience with distraction to know it’s value. What if this war is simply a distraction?’

Her eyes grew wide. ‘Then it’s a distraction of heroic proportion. What could anyone gain from throwing three nations into turmoil?’

‘That is the question, isn’t it? I’m of the opinion that there are three people who might be the only ones able to answer.’

‘Lord John Worthington, Sir William Alcorn, and Prince Harfum,’ said Franciezka.

Playfully smacking her on the backside, he said, ‘Time to get dressed. I’m as curious as anyone what is coming next. And I need some time to talk to our newest duke, find out what he’s learned from the Princess you sent him to protect, and then insinuate myself into the King of the Isles’ company as if I was there the entire time.’

She pushed hard on his chest, forcing him back down on the pillow. ‘We have a little more time, and I’m damned if I’m letting you out of here to get yourself killed before I’ve had my way with you!’

He laughed and cried, ‘Mercy!’

‘Never!’ Running her hand down his chest to his stomach she said, ‘And somewhere in all this there is that one topic we need to return to …’

His eyes widened for a moment and he seemed to lose his breath. ‘And that would be …’

‘The subject you and I have been avoiding for more than three years, Jim. Us.’

‘I swear by my life, Frannie, if we survive this, somehow, against the wishes of kings and gods, there will be an us.’

‘That’s all I wanted to hear,’ she said, tossing the bedsheets aside.

Hal sat up suddenly as a curtain in his room moved. He was reaching for his sword when a familiar voice said, ‘If you’re not safe here, Hal, you’re not safe anywhere on this world.’

Lord Jim Jamison came out from behind the curtain and bowed. ‘My lord,’ he said. Then he took a step forward and gave Hal a hug. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about your father.’

‘I didn’t know you knew him, Jim,’ said Hal.

‘I made it my business to meet every noble of consequence in my travels. When I was young I ventured to the Far Coast and met your father and mother, back when you were a baby. I encountered the Duke a few times when he visited Krondor. He was … old fashioned in a good way. Solid, reliable, with no hint of guile. What the conDoin line was at its pinnacle.’

‘Have we fallen that far, for you to phrase it so?’ asked Hal.

Jim smiled. ‘Not you, nor your brothers if the early reports of Martin’s actions against the Keshians is accurate. He and Brendan did your name proud.’

‘He lost Crydee.’

‘Delong the Great would have lost Crydee given what he had to work with and what he faced,’ answered Jim. ‘He saved lives and he’s held Ylith for now. The Kingdom will negotiate from a stronger position because of his actions.’

‘Negotiate,’ echoed Hal.

‘Leave that for the King and his ministers. I came to speak with you before the festivities begin tonight.’ He sat on Hal’s bed.

‘What do you wish to know?’ asked Hal.

‘Right now emissaries from the Isles and Kesh are probably arguing about which monarch enters first and who bows to who first. King Carol has an advantage: this is his island, so he gets to sit on his throne. My best guess is both Emperor Sezioti and King Gregory will enter together, bow to King Carol, who will bow back, then the two will bow to each other at the same time. Now, this will probably take an hour or two to decide, so we have time for a chat, because after that they’ll argue about who gets to sit to Carol’s right and who sits to his left. So, why don’t you just start by telling me what happened on your little adventure and don’t leave out anything, even if you think it’s unimportant. A seemingly insignificant detail might provide some information useful to our king.’

Hal said, ‘You’re not just some minor noble who happens to be the Duke of Rillanon’s grandson, are you?’

‘Let’s say I occasionally run special errands for my grandfather, and this is one of them.’

Hal smiled. ‘Very well,’ he said, and he began to narrate his story.

Nearly an hour later, Jim had heard the full tale. He sat back taking it in, then said, ‘I don’t want you to feel your time with the Princess was an unnecessary risk or waste of your time. I know you endured some uncomfortable days out there along the coast, and killing men, even pirates, is never easy, even if they deserve it. But I think had Stephane remained in Roldem, things today might be different.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hal.

Jim waved away the question. ‘I can only speculate at this point, but the rumours about Lord John’s son and the Princess were sudden and persistent. I note that even though the Princess is returned for this festival of peace orchestrated by Lord John, her three brothers are still absent.’

Hal fixed Jim with a narrow gaze. ‘Lady Franciezka’s doing, no doubt.’

Jim laughed. ‘You’re not quite the rustic you seem, are you Hal?’

‘I had the pleasure of the lady’s company on a few occasions while we were in hiding. She’s very adroit at being a step ahead of Lord John. Which leads me to believe she occupies much the same role here in Roldem as you do in Rillanon. Only she’s running the occasional errand for the King of Roldem.’

Jim merely spread his hands and said nothing.

Hal reflected for a moment on how deep and profound his feelings for Stephane had become and said, ‘Nothing involving the Princess’s safety is a waste of my time, Jim.’

Jim studied the young noble, then changed topics. ‘What do you think of our friend Tyrone?’

Hal laughed. ‘He’s a fine fellow. I’m happy to call him a friend.’

‘Good,’ said Jim. ‘It’s just the last time I looked you two were strutting like competing peacocks before Stephane, and I just wanted to make sure there was no rivalry. You may need friends and find few about.’

‘I think he’s turned his attention more towards the Lady Gabriella.’

‘Ha!’ laughed Jim. ‘That may prove … awkward.’

‘Why? Is she betrothed to another man?’

Jim chuckled. ‘Leave it that her interests lie elsewhere.’

‘Oh?’ said Hal. This his eyes opened wide. ‘Oh!’ He couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Poor Ty.’

‘Given our young friend’s reputation in Olasko and here in Roldem, there’s nothing poor about him when it comes to the ladies. Though he may make a fool of himself over Gabriella if he thinks she’s merely playing hard to get. You know how some men can be, wanting what they can’t have.’

‘All too well,’ said Hal, feeling his mood fall.

Jim stood up. ‘Should anyone ask, I shared quarters with you and Ty coming over from Rillanon, but was fighting a fever for most of the journey and stayed in my cabin. Understand?’

‘Yes, Jim,’ said the young duke. ‘What now?’

‘We enjoy the festivities and see how much bloodshed we can avoid, eat the King’s food, drink his wine, perhaps chase a maid or two, who knows? But above all else, listen and observe. There are men and women here who desire nothing more than to plunge this world into chaos.’

‘But why?’ asked Hal.

‘If I knew that,’ answered Jim. ‘I might have some idea who they were.’

Jim stood to Hal’s right, keeping Ty between himself and Sir William Alcorn. If the two twin nobles, Lord John and Sir William, had any issue with people recognizing their resemblance, they masked it well. Granted the fashions and hair styles were different enough it made more of a difference than had they dressed alike, and the Prince Harfum was deep enough in the Emperor’s entourage that between that and his Keshian court dress — a linen kilt, sandals, and a great deal of golden jewellery — no one noticed his resemblance to the other two.

Hal had told Ty what Jim had discussed with him, and the young noble from Olasko whispered, ‘I might have gone the entire night and not noticed, but you’re right. The three of them are as alike as three brothers.’

‘And that has me worried,’ said Jim.

‘Why?’ asked Hal.

‘Because either they’re getting careless — which I doubt — or they don’t care, which means they are at a point where they think there’s no risk of their plot being thwarted.’

As Jim had predicted the protocol of the event had been tedious, and the two monarchs entered simultaneously. Kesh’s Imperial Master of Ceremonies, bedecked in a traditional leopardskin head dress, struck the floor with a massive iron-shod staff topped by a golden hawk, and intoned the thousand titles, ranks, and heroic deeds a ruler of Kesh earned, accompanied by a steady tattoo of drums and clash of cymbals, almost deafening everyone in the hall. Jim had seen the imperial hall in the City of Kesh and it was at least three times the size of Roldem’s grand hall. He whispered to Hal and Ty, ‘Leave it to the Keshians to have no idea of scale.’

Emperor Sezioti, in his sixties but still a vigorous-looking man, endured it with good grace, displaying a quiet dignity that was in contrast to the pomp and ceremony.

King Gregory suffered it all with restraint, but the three could tell it was a struggle for him and his wife, who half-supported him as they slowly walked from the entrance to the throne. Every ten or so paces, the Kingdom of the Isles’ Master of Ceremonies felt obliged to have his trumpeters blow ruffles and flourishes in counter point to the Keshians, the effect of which was musical chaos and seemed to be putting the Roldemish Master of Ceremonies at risk of a stroke. He at least had the good sense to wave off any attempt by the Roldem heralds to blow their trumpets or play their drums. If Jim hadn’t been so worried about what was coming next, he would have been highly amused.

What wasn’t amusing was the number of armed men in the room. The traditional Royal Guard of Roldem stood eight men deep on either side of the royal dais, but the other two monarchs were conceded their own honour guards. The King of the Isles was accompanied by sixteen white-clad King’s Own, wearing the royal red tabard of the Isles. The Emperor had sixteen black-garbed warriors in his personal bodyguard, hand-picked from the best of the Inner Legion.

Hal noticed Jim eyeing the various soldiers bearing arms and said, ‘You’re worried.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘All it takes is one idiot and there’ll be a lot of blood shed in here.’ He looked at Hal and Ty, ‘How fast could you get up on that dais and protect the three rulers?’

Ty raised an eyebrow. They might arguably be the two best swordsmen in the room, but given the pedigree of those selected for the monarchs’ honour guards, probably not by much. Moreover, as Jim well knew, a brawl was a completely different matter.

But Hal was almost instantaneous in his answer, as he looked up at Stephane standing to the left of her father’s throne. ‘As long as it takes me to draw my sword, Jim.’

Jim clapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Son, I know you’d die for her, but if anything happens try to stay alive for as long as you can. It would be a happier outcome; besides, you’re no use to her dead.’

Ty smiled. ‘So war is difficult, but peace is more dangerous?’

‘Sometimes, my young friend, sometimes,’

Abruptly King Carol stood up and descended the seven steps of his dais and met the other two monarchs on the floor. He came between the two and embraced them both, one in each arm, and said loudly, ‘We welcome our brother rulers with love and gratitude for their attendance.’ He then allowed both of them to kiss him simultaneously on the cheeks, showing neither the Isles or Kesh favouritism.

‘This is well rehearsed,’ said Jim.

As if practised countless times, burly servants picked up the King’s throne and carried it down to the floor behind him. Two other identical thrones appeared from two side doors of the room and after they had been placed behind each monarch, Carol spoke loudly. ‘No one shall sit above another, for we are all brothers in love and harmony. We seek only peace and understanding, an end to enmity and a future of prosperity for all nations.’ He gestured to the others to sit and took the throne placed behind him.

The theatrics were superb; Jim was among the first to begin applause and soon the entire throne room joined in. To Ty and Hal he said, ‘Keep an eye on Alcorn, Worthington, and Harfum.’ They did, but the three influential nobles seemed content with the arrangements.

Servants appeared with refreshments and started with the monarchs, then moved through the room. All the guards retreated to positions close enough to their monarchs to be on hand should the need arise.

As the nobles from the three nations began to mingle, Jim said to Hal and Ty, ‘Be alert but if no one goes berserk and starts carving up the guests, have a little fun.’ He paused. ‘I fear no matter what we see tonight, fun will be in short supply in the days ahead.’

Hal immediately looked to locate Stephane and saw her looking in his direction while a sallow-faced young man was speaking to her. After a moment, she cut him off with a remark and moved straight towards Hal.

Ty chucked and said, ‘I think you are about to become the most hated young noble in three kingdoms.’ He glanced around, ‘Now, where is that tall wench?’ He spied Lady Gabriella and said, ‘Ah, there she is. Excuse me, gentlemen.’

As he left, Hal said, ‘You didn’t tell him?’

Jim said, ‘No, some things are best left to learn the hard way. In your case, just remember the fate of three nations is being determined, so don’t do anything stupid.’ He stepped away, nodding to the Princess as she approached, and left the two youngsters alone.

Stephane ignored Hal’s poor attempt at a bow and swept in to grab his arm. She pulled him close and Hal saw that already others in the room were taking note. ‘You look so handsome in those clothes!’ she said, almost breathless.

Hal felt colour rising in his cheeks. ‘I … thank you, Highness. You look … nice yourself.’ He winced to hear such words coming out of his mouth. She was bedecked in an indigo gown with seed pears sewn into the bodice and an ornate silver brocade strip at the hem. The gown was strapless and she looked far more voluptuous than she had in hunting togs. Hal stared at her and said, ‘I’m sorry, but you look more than “nice”. You look amazing.’

Her hair had been done up in a fancy gathering of curls behind her head, with ringlets falling behind. A tiara of diamonds and pearls set in white gold was on her head and her hair had been dusted with some sort of powder, rendering it almost white. The effect was stunning.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said playfully. She looked around. ‘Do you think this will end the war?’

‘One can only hope.’ He stared about the room.

She reached up and grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at her. ‘Here. I’m here.’

Hal felt his cheeks turn crimson. ‘Are you trying to get me killed?’

‘No,’ she said with a laugh as she let go of his chin. ‘But you seem very distracted.’

He ushered her towards the side of the room lined by Roldem guards. ‘If your father doesn’t have me hanged, or beheaded, or drawn and quartered, or whatever it is you do to criminals in Roldem-’

‘We hang them,’ she interjected.

‘-then most of the unmarried nobles in this room are likely to challenge me to a duel, a few of the married ones, too, no doubt.’

‘I’m not worried.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you are second only to the Champion of the Masters’ Court and no man here can best you with a sword, save Ty, and he would never challenge you; he knows it would be too close.’

‘Thank you for your faith in me, but that still doesn’t deal with the consequences of my killing a dozen or so nobles. I suspect my king would be less than pleased with me.’ He couldn’t resist returning her infectious smile. ‘You’re not taking me seriously, are you?’

‘I take you very seriously, Hal. I just don’t take your concerns that seriously. My father wants to meet you as soon as this event is over.’

His expression darkened. ‘He’s …?’

‘He wants to thank you personally for saving my life, stupid.’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘You’re not afraid to meet him, are you?’

Hal wondered if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt. ‘Stephane, I did what was asked and for that I need no thanks. It was my honour to protect you. But Gabriella and Ty also did a fair share of the protecting, you know?’

‘I mentioned that to Father, but mostly I told him how brave you were.’

‘Are you trying to get me killed?’

‘No,’ she whispered, her face darkening. ‘I’m trying to get you married.’

Suddenly she turned and walked away, still holding his hand and half-led, half-dragged him across the floor. Several chatting nobles took note of the display, and by the time Hal took a large step to catch up and tried to disengage his hand from hers, she had arrived at her destination.

Queen Gertrude smiled at the couple. ‘Welcome, Your Grace.’

Hal couldn’t seem to get his fingers untwined from Stephane’s no matter how he tried, short of yanking his hand free in a very ungraceful gesture, so he tried as hard as possible to move to a position where it wasn’t obvious.

The Queen looked genuinely amused and said, ‘Stephane, let go of the poor lad’s hand before you cause him to die of embarrassment.’

She looked at her mother, then Hal and said, ‘Sorry,’ Her tone showed she was anything but.

The Queen said, ‘Now, run along and mingle. I have a few things to speak about with the Duke.’

Stephane face showed she was not happy with the decision, but she obeyed her mother and moved away. Hal glanced around hoping for a goblin raid, a sudden hurricane, or some other calamity to remove him from the Queen’s scrutiny.

‘Majesty, I’m sorry-’ he began, but the Queen raised her hand to cut him off.

Standing, she said, ‘Why don’t we take a little walk, Your Grace?’

Not knowing what to say, Hal offered his hand as she stepped down from the throne. She indicated with a slight tilt of her head that two guards should accompany them and led Hal down a short corridor to a large, open door leading to a lovely garden.

The sun was setting and the evening breeze off the ocean was refreshing after the close air in the throne room. The two guards stationed themselves outside the door and Queen Gertrude led Hal to the far side. ‘Now we can speak in private.’

‘Majesty,’ said Hal in as noncommittal a tone as he could manage.

‘My daughter can’t stop singing your praises, Lord Henry.’

Not being entirely certain what he was supposed to say, he offered, ‘Please, Majesty, I’m called Hal. My father was Lord Henry and I’m not entirely used to being addressed that way.’

She smiled warmly. ‘Very well, Hal. You’ve made a remarkable impression.’

‘We were together in dire circumstances. Many men would have does as I did. Certainly Tyrone Hawkins and the Lady Gabriella also deserve thanks for your daughter’s well-being.’

‘That’s as may be, but she only speaks of you.’ Her eyes focused sharply on him. ‘Did you manage to put my daughter under some sort of spell, Hal?’

He couldn’t be certain if she were joking or not, so he said, ‘‘Majesty, I assure you I only attempted to care for Her Highness, and my attentions were respectful and mindful of the differences in our rank.’

The Queen laughed. ‘You Isles folks can be so stuffy, and you westerners are the worst of the lot. Half the nobles in Roldem in your circumstances would have dragged her off to the closest temple for a hasty marriage and arrived here as our son-in-law, a fait accompli.

‘Hal, if the King or I thought there had been one moment of impropriety we would be having this conversation in the dungeon, your rank notwithstanding.’ She took his hand and patted it. ‘And I would be the one holding the red-hot pincers.’

Managing a careful smile, he said, ‘I thank Your Majesty for her wisdom.’

Still holding his hand, she asked, ‘Hal, are you in love with my daughter?’

Caught completely unawares, he hesitated then said, ‘Desperately.’

The Queen said, ‘Oh, dear.’ She looked out over the city where as night fell lanterns were being lit in windows and on lamp-poles. Finally she said, ‘Come. Sit. This is my favourite time of day, though I’m rarely able to enjoy it. I’m usually busy getting ready for some state function or another.’ She smiled at him. ‘Now, let me tell you a story.’

She paused, gathering her thoughts, then said, ‘When I was my daughter’s age, I was Grand Duchess of Maladon. My brother was Grand Duke and unmarried. He met a young woman of property from Simrick and with sufficient standing that there would be no raised eyebrows when it was obvious he had married her to bolster our meagre treasury. Maladon and Simrick are merged states, two duchies wed ages ago out of battle.

‘My brother wished me wed in the most advantageous way and discovered the then-King of Roldem was looking for a bride for his eldest son. Rather than seeking a wife who would gain him political advantage, say a Princess of the Isles or Kesh, or a highly-placed Roldemish duke’s daughter, he sought a girl of rank whose alliance with Roldem would not unbalance a deftly-fashioned relationship between Roldem, the Isles, and Kesh. So, I was the choice. I had rank, not much of a dowry, but my brother’s alliance with Roldem would not cause conflict with any of the neighbours. When Carol and I were wed I had never laid eyes on him until the day of our wedding, did you know that?’

‘No, Majesty,’ said Hal quietly.

‘He was shy, though he had enough court experience to hide it.’ She looked Hal in the eye and said, ‘I’m too old to be coy, young Hal, so all I’ll say is our wedding night had its awkward moments. That was thirty-six years ago. I can’t imagine being married to anyone else, but once I did, so vary long ago. A dashing young captain of my brother’s horse guard. He flattered me and paid attention to me, ignoring far prettier girls. I was naive then, and couldn’t believe he didn’t fancy more than my rank and connections. I think he imagined I would bully my brother into letting me wed him, and be promoted to general or some such.’

Hal was about to protest, but the Queen cut him off. ‘Save your empty flattery, Hal. I know I was no beauty. My husband came to love me as I love him, despite our rather plain looks. So let me ask you, why do you love my daughter? Beauty, rank? Be honest. I will know if you are lying.’

Hal weighed his words, then said, ‘I’ve never met a woman besides my mother who was so … staunch, save perhaps the Lady Bethany of Carse. In the middle of the wilderness with men trying to capture her, hungry, wet and cold, Stephane did not complain. If anything, she worked to buoy our spirits. Yes, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen, and I know her rank is far above mine, but I’m as certain in my heart as I can be. Her courage is a match for anyone I’ve met, and she has a generous heart and a level head. She’s … wonderful.’

The Queen’s eyes glistened. ‘Oh, you poor boy,’ she whispered. ‘You know what you must do, don’t you?’

Hal hung his head, a pain growing within. ‘I know I must not indulge her whims.’

Now a tear ran down the Queen’s cheek. ‘And you would have made her such a good husband,’ she said softly.

‘I appreciate the thought. But I know she must marry to protect Roldem’s best interests, and I must return to Rillanon and see what duty my king has of me. At present I am a rustic duke without a duchy. Unless the King can negotiate-’

A strange keening filled the air, accompanied by a sensation akin to the moment before a lightning strike. The combination caused the hair on Hal’s arms to stand on end; then there was a sudden scream followed by men shouting and the sound of weapons being drawn. It came from the corridor leading to the great hall. Hal turned to the two soldiers and shouted, ‘Guard the Queen!’ Then he drew his sword and raced into the hall.