“My esteemed Lady Rey, no offense taken, as I am aware of the great responsibilities resting on your slim shoulders. It is precisely that about which I have come to speak with you. Perhaps it is I who may serve you.”
“Oh? Go on, please.” She eschewed the grand throne on its raised dais, and instead took a seat at a long conference table on the floor, and motioned for Drogue to sit as well. He did.
“Lady Rey, while others of your tender years are out enjoying the pleasures of youth and the lovely spring sunshine, I have perceived you are here at Theriole day and night in musty chambers, meeting with dull old ministers, poring over documents, and attending to the multitude of endless details involved in running a kingdom. Your father, a great man, and such a tragic loss for all of us (she nodded at this homage), has trained you well to step into his very large shoes, and we are all fortunate to be the beneficiaries of his foresight and your devotion to duty…”
“Perhaps you could come a little more quickly to your point, sir, though your kind words are noted. Time is precious, as you are aware. Are you about to question my ability to carry out those duties?”
Drogue started backward with a theatrical gesture, his hands flying to his breast, “No, no – of course, not a bit! Rather, I question the appropriateness of placing so great a burden on so young, and, might I say, lovely, a personage. Forgive my concern, my lady, but you are pale and weary, and are grown serious. You do not laugh and caper like the other youth of the court, and it is well past time for you to be considering an appropriate union…”
Jorelial was struggling to maintain her composure, but at this last she cleared her throat. The man was one word away from overstepping the bounds of propriety. If she hadn’t been amused at his blatant strategizing, she might have been incensed. Drogue responded to her prompt.
“My sincere apologies if I overreach, my lady, but I have ever been your admirer, and only speak in thought for your well-being.”
“Your concern for my health and happiness are heart-warming to me, my lord, but I assure you it is my choice to step up to the task fate has assigned me. The times are not usual, and therefore demand unusual commitment.”
He seized the opening she had thrown him, “Exactly! Exactly, my lady. The times are not usual. In fact, perilous. In times such as these, it is essential that men of quality, experience, courage, and vision come forward to take the helm and guide the ship to safe harbor.”
“An unfortunate analogy, Lord Drogue, considering the source of our recent woes.”
“My apologies again, but the image holds.” He rose from the chair and began to pace the floor, agitated. “The entire kingdom of Eneri Clare founders, my lady, on stormy seas. Our king is taken untimely from us, and we are left rudderless under the rule of a mere child. After years of easy living, we barely have an army to protect ourselves from foreign princes, and the lords of the alliance squabble amongst themselves for control of trivialities…”
“Sir, we are at peace with all of our neighbors. Long-honored treaties protect our mutual interests – why manufacture enemies where none exist?”
Drogue turned back to her with a canny expression, “Your faith is commendable, but experience teaches a man to plan for the unexpected. In our current state of vulnerability, we are a tempting prize for some ambitious state to pick off or annex. It is only prudent to imagine these likelihoods and prepare for them.”
Jorelial was uncomfortable with his assessment of foreign policy, but entertained a moment of doubt that he might indeed know what he was talking about. Drogue went on with his well-rehearsed points, still pacing.
“A firm hand is needed on the economy, and on the merchants and farmers of this land, who too often shirk their financial and physical obligations to the Crown. And most certainly, the lords must be reigned in and united in purpose under a strong, central leader, by force if necessary. You have done an admirable job of keeping things running in this brief interim, but, Lady Rey, I seriously question if you have the stomach or the experience to tackle such difficult problems.” He had become carried away in his narrative, and revealed a little too much of his inner mind. One glance at her face stopped him in both his speech and his stride. With great deliberateness, projecting her best illusion of stature, Jorelial Rey rose from her seat and turned to face the speechless man.
“Lord Drogue, I have listened with rapt attention to your opinions, and will take all that you have said under serious consideration. Is there something right now that I can do for you?” Drogue hesitated, and seemed to make a tactical decision.
“Well, to be blunt, yes. I have come here to ask for your support next week when the Grand Council meets to select a permanent regent. I plan to put myself forward as the best qualified candidate, and with your backing, Lady Rey, I believe the members will be swayed in my favor.”
“You believe my voice will carry such weight in the deliberations?”
“But, of course, my lady. You are well respected in all circles. Allow me to plead my case to you here and now. The position of regent is a decades-long commitment, and will require a great deal of dedication and self-sacrifice. I am no stranger to this court, and have always been a lover and supporter of our king and his royal house. I am of noble birth, a man of property and means, with no reason to seek access to the royal coffers. I am a seasoned warrior, having learned the craft in overseas conflicts in my youth. I am a practiced statesman, in fact, a man of great experience in all arenas pertaining to governing. I have always been reckoned a strong leader of men, and I have a vision for this kingdom, to keep it secure, wealthy, orderly, and powerful in the world. You know I speak the truth of my credentials.”
“Indeed, sir, you paint a compelling picture.” She was revealing nothing of her inner reaction to his speech. It seemed to occur to him that he might have forgotten something.
“And of course, in exchange for your vote, I would want you to continue in the vital advisory capacity your family has traditionally held, and would value your input most highly.”
Kind of him, she thought, but smiled and said, “Lord Drogue, you have presented your case most excellently…”
“Then I may count on your support?”
“Sir, you must give me time to consider. As I am, ‘young and inexperienced,’ I would not wish to leap to any decision of import in haste.”
“I would not leave this room without your promise…”
“You have my promise to consider the matter. It is the Council, in the end, who will decide, I have no doubt, wisely. Before this interview, it had not occurred to me to throw my personal support behind any one candidate, nor am I convinced that it would influence the members in any case. I appreciate your taking the time today to present to me your unique qualifications, and I am heartened to see that we are both, above all, committed to the welfare of the kingdom, its citizens, and its rightful heir. And now, I believe, I have another appointment to keep…good day, Lord Drogue.”
Unaccustomed to not getting his way, Lord Drogue stood with his mouth open in disbelief.
“Thank you, sir. Good day.” Jorelial Rey repeated, and motioned for the doorman, who kept watch over the room’s only entrance, to approach. She was never so relieved that she had instructed Delphine to send Mark about this time, and prayed that the young man was indeed just outside waiting for his audience. She had been truthful that it had not occurred to her to support any one candidate for the position of regent, but if anything had become clear to her during the course of this interview, it was that she would most assuredly not be voting for Lord Drogue. Everything about him – his manner, his ideas – seemed to run contrary to her most cherished beliefs. He was a petty tyrant in the making, and she prayed that someone else would emerge as the clear frontrunner by next week, so that she would not have to deal with his nonsense at all.
The doorman came up beside her with a little bow, “My lady?” She s
poke to him in a low voice. “Can you tell me if the bard Mark is outside awaiting an audience?”
“He is indeed, my lady.”
“Will you please ask him to come right in,” then in a more public tone, “and please escort our good friend Lord Drogue back to the courtyard. Thank you.”
Drogue found himself confronted by the doorman, and, out of options, began crossing the floor toward the oversized door. “You will consider what we have discussed?” he called back, “I will expect an answer…”
“Of course, sir. You shall have it soon.”
“I do protest this summary dismissal. There was more that might have been said.”
“Apologies, sir, but I do have quite a full schedule today. I believe I have the gist of you. Please do stay to dinner if you are so inclined.” This last was spoken as he vanished over the doorframe, shaking his head. And don’t let the door hit you on your way out, she added to herself. Good riddance! She hurried to the dais and the big throne from which the king usually greeted state visitors. Settling herself on the thick red cushion, she thought, with a wicked grin, that she would really give Mark the full treatment, and see how he handled himself.
She had barely taken her seat when the door opened again, and a tall young man, dressed in colorful leggings and tunic, stepped in. Feathered hat in hand, hesitant, he cast an awed glance over the furnishings in the enormous room. Jorelial put a hand up to her mouth to stifle a giggle. He had obviously picked out his best performance outfit, and while she had seen him behave with great self-possession in the Great Hall while plying his trade, a high-level audience without a harp in his hand was another matter altogether. Noting his vulnerable expression, she relented a bit.
“Mark! Please come in, and welcome. I owe you a debt of gratitude for delivering me, just now, from the shameless self-promoting of my last visitor. Thank you. I understand as well from my dear sister that you have been waiting many days for a chance to speak with me on a matter of some importance?” She was not about to let on that she knew his mission. She wanted to see just how he would attempt to win his prize. “My apologies, sir; my time has not been my own for some while now, and a thousand details of statecraft battle for my attention every day. There always seem to be more issues than hours. I appreciate your patience, and hope that you will not hold the delays against me. Come up, come closer where I don’t have to shout…there, that’s better.” The man was nervous, fraying the edges of his best hat with his fingers as he stood there, knowing this to be the audition of his life. But there was a sweetness and an open quality to him which Jorelial noticed, particularly in contrast to the guarded, calculated manner of Lord Drogue. No wonder Delphine was drawn to him.
“My Lady Rey,” he began, in a strong, trained baritone that only trembled a little, “Thank you for seeing me now, when I know you have so many other matters to attend to. And if my timing was of service to you, I am doubly glad.”
A good beginning, she thought. He raised his face for the first time to meet her sharp, probing gaze. His eyes were soft and kind and brown. Taking courage from the silence, he went on, “If I have been insistent in requesting a moment of your precious time, my excuse can only be the deep devotion I bear your sister, Delphine. Over the past year, I have been fortunate enough to come to know her and her quality, and the desire to have her always by my side fuels my boldness. It is not her loveliness alone that has snared my heart and made it her servant forever. It is her inquisitive mind, her generous heart, the sunshine that radiates from her being wherever she goes – these all enchant me completely whenever I am in her presence. To me, she is like a lovely song that is so perfect by every standard that one begs to hear it over and over again, never tiring of the repetition, but only growing fonder in familiarity. I cannot imagine a life ahead without that song in my heart always, without Delphine in my arms. We are destined for one another, of that I am certain.” With that he dropped to one knee, hat in hand, brown eyes lowered. “You hold the key to our future, Lady Jorelial Rey. Here and now, I humbly ask your permission to take Delphine as my cherished bride.”
Jorelial was impressed with his effusive request, and even more with how he seemed to believe every word. But then, he was a bard by trade; how could she be sure? She leaned forward in the great chair, eyes narrowed, as if that could help her see more clearly into his heart, “Well spoken, sir. I confess I have sounded my sister on the subject, and to be frank, she seems to be of the same mind as you. But she is very young to be bound in a lifelong commitment. You are attractive and accomplished, sir. How do we know she does not suffer from a schoolgirl’s crush, which she will outgrow in time?”
A shadow crossed his face, but passed swiftly, leaving behind a most determined expression. “Lady, you of all people should know your sister is a maid of uncommon wisdom, far greater than her years would suggest, and is not given to rash decisions or hasty judgments. I would beg you to take seriously her professed desires in this matter, if you value her happiness.”
“Well parried!” Jorelial sprang from the chair, and stepped off the dais, circling the young man, who was still on one knee. “There is almost nothing on this earth dearer to me than the happiness of my sister. Besides Tashroth, Delphine is the most precious treasure in my world. But I am entrusted with the task of looking out for her welfare, beyond her desires alone. You must realize that it would be…unusual…for the daughter of a high-ranking courtier to be betrothed to a landless artisan, regardless of his skill. And you are a minstrel, making his fortune on the road, travelling from village to town across the kingdom, most likely barely earning enough for your own keep. What sort of life do you think that would be for a high-born maid as delicate and noble as Delphine? And how far would your affections carry you in times of scarcity?”
He was prepared for this question. “Lady, I am a harper out of love, not need. Before Delphine graced my life, music was ever my greatest joy, and source of nourishment. My parents hold a small estate in the hills outside the city limits. I will one day inherit this property, along with a modest sum. With these, and some savings I have been putting away, it has long been my hope to found there a school of the harpers’ art. There is not yet anything of that sort in these parts. Lady, are you aware that your sister has an extraordinarily beautiful singing voice and a natural talent for music? Not to mention an easy manner with folk of all ages. I can imagine no fitter helpmate in transforming my dreams to reality. We had hoped this would be an enterprise which would meet with your approval.”
Jorelial had not seen this coming. A school, eh? What a remarkable idea. She had to give this fellow credit – he had certainly thought the whole thing through. That would solve the problems of roots and income, even a purpose and passion for her baby sister. She was beginning to like Mark. Stepping to his side, she gently cupped a hand under his elbow, indicating that he should rise. “A most noble enterprise, and one which I could support with a glad heart. I think our Father might have been excited by the idea as well, had he lived.”
Standing, he was more than a full head taller than her, but she met his hopeful gaze full on, and for the first time in the interview, spoke to him as herself – no masks, no courtly ornaments, no manipulation.
“Look, Mark, you seem to be a fine fellow, honest and decent, sincere in the love you bear my sister. I can see why Delphine is charmed by you. I know you to be excellent in your craft, and am heartened to hear you speak of bigger plans. You obviously have a practical side, and have considered many options. I like you – what I know of you. I must admit I have been preoccupied with bigger events these last months, and haven’t been paying attention to my own household. The whole idea of my baby sister getting married is something of a surprise – no, more of a shock to me, and I have to get used to it. I suppose it would be wonderful to have a happy event on the horizon for a change, something to look forward to? That would be refreshing. It has been a very long time since anyone laugh
ed or sang or danced.”
She was pacing again in front of him, fingers drumming on her palms as she spoke. Mark’s face relaxed as her meaning began to settle over him, his wide mouth twitching by degrees into a radiant grin, his breaths deepening audibly in relief and joy. Rel faced him again, “I don’t know that I am ready yet to give my unqualified consent, or tell you to choose a date. At the moment we are all somewhat overwhelmed with the Grand Council election and the Coronation just ahead. But I would like to hear more.” She took his arm and led him toward the table and chairs, “Sit with me a few moments, and tell me about where you come from, your family and home, and this school you envision…” She planted Mark in a chair, but before she could sit down herself, she heard the door to the chamber creak open, and looked up to see the doorman hesitating on the threshold.
“Something wrong?” Jorelial called across the room. The doorman had been a trusted palace employee for decades, knew protocols, and followed them with impeccable care, except in very extreme circumstances.
“My lady,” he called back, “I regret the intrusion, but may I speak to you a moment?” He sounded uncomfortable. Rel’s brows drew together as she excused herself and strode toward him. He met her half way, and spoke for her ears alone, “Lady, I am sorry, but there is a man outside who is most insistent that he must see you and only you, today, on a matter of utmost urgency.”
“Warlowe, everybody wants to see me right away over a million matters of utmost urgency. I still have more to do here, and I am sure dinner is about to be served. I really ought to make an appearance tonight. You’ll just have to send him away.”
“He won’t go away, Mistress. I’ve tried. He insists you will want to see him.”
The Last Wizard of Eneri Clare Page 7
