by Glenda Larke
Most of the king’s men knew and liked Prince Ryce. They’d once shared barracks with his men, so they were loath to fight them and proved reluctant to die in the service of a king known to have been losing his mind, especially when there was a young and handsome prince appealing to them to follow him instead. Still, Saker thought, it didn’t feel like a victory when one of the men who’d died had been a friend. He and Grig had shared so much since they’d first met in Karradar on Golden Petrel, including bunking down in the same officers’ cabin when Grig wasn’t sharing Juster’s bed.
As he watched Prince Ryce organise the palace in the days that followed, he found it hard to reconcile this prince – no, this king – with the man he had known before. Ryce had hardened. He cared little about his murder of his father and wasted no time in introspection. Instead, he threw himself into the administration of his kingdom, or rather, he organised others to do it for him.
The mark of a good administrator, I suppose. Who would have thought?
Somewhere along the line, presumably in the microcosm of Gromwell Keep and its manor lands, Ryce had learned.
Lord Seaforth, heading the Privy Council, was organising the Ardronese nobility’s support for the new king. “It’s not so hard to be the head of the Council,” he confided to Saker. “All I have to do is ask the king what he wants, then choose the right people to do it, and then get them to do the work.”
“And how do you know you have the right people?” he asked, curious.
“Oh, they are the ones who are happy to give advice, but who don’t question the king’s decisions.”
Right. He had a point.
Beargold was appointed Lord Lieutenant and given the task of organising all matters to do with the military, the King’s Company and the King’s Guard. Some orders he issued were brutal. Grey Lancers were to be exterminated on sight. The Fox estates were to be confiscated, all of Valerian’s children executed and all their assets seized.
Lord Juster was appointed the Minister for Trade and Navy, a task he reluctantly accepted for a limited time. As Prince Ryce’s previous adviser on naval matters, he was already cognisant of much that needed to be done. “At least I can put the proper procedures and plans into place,” he told Saker. “But I’m a sailor and I will not spend the rest of my life on land.”
The new king’s instructions to Saker, given on the day of Edwayn’s death, were to proceed immediately to Faith House with a company of Ryce’s men, to make sure no one removed any documents, or anything else. He was to take over Fox’s living quarters there, as well as his office.
“Your first job,” Ryce continued, “is to root out all the clerics who supported Fox because they did not like Shenat ways. Any such clerics are to be defrocked and their personal assets investigated to see if they were illegally obtained. You always wanted an emphasis on our Shenat roots; you’ve got it now.”
“I’ll do what I can until we leave for Vavala. But I’m not your Prime, you know.”
“We’ll see about that later. Just get to Faith House before Fox’s priests destroy evidence, or steal the silver.”
“Gladly,” he said. “I’ll take Barklee and his family with me. They can look after Piper until she’s reunited with Sorrel.”
Ryce stared at him in genuine surprise. “What do you mean? She’s a princess and it is not appropriate for her to be in the care of a surgeon and an unmarried cleric. She’ll stay here in the palace where she belongs.”
“Your Majesty – Ryce – she’s been under Sorrel’s care since the day she was born. She has thrived in our care.”
“Pickle it, Saker, she’s my niece! Of course she will stay here in the palace with me. I will employ suitable staff for her. A gentlewoman of noble family—”
No. Think. You’ve got to find a way to keep Piper with us.
“Your Highness, ah – sorry, Your Majesty, you cannot acknowledge your relationship to Piper until you consult Regala Mathilda. If Piper lives at court, folk might notice the resemblance between her and Prince Garred. Or between her and the Lady Mathilda when she was a little girl. That may result in embarrassment to the Regala. She is in a difficult position as it is: an Ardronese princess acting as Regent to her Lowmian son. I’m not sure she would ever be in a position to admit that she concealed the birth of twins. It could even call into question the legitimacy of Prince-regal Karel’s birth.”
Ryce thought about that, and finally nodded. “I suppose you’re right. But make no mistake: Piper is royal and should be brought up as such. Select a nun of a high-born family to give respectability to her nursery in Faith House. When things are more settled I’ll send a letter to Mathilda about it. In the meantime, take her to Faith House, but bear in mind that it is not in your interest to become too fond of her.”
His heart sank. It’s far too late for that. Cankers and galls, what will Sorrel say if I don’t bring Piper back to her?
“When are we leaving for Vavala?” he asked, changing the subject.
Ryce sighed. “I thought we could leave immediately Edwayn was dead, but it’s not so easy. People are begging for our guards to deal with the remnants of Grey Lancers here, in Ardrone. I thought—” He was interrupted by a knock at the door. “I asked not to be disturbed. See who that is and tell them to go away.”
Saker opened the door, where a flustered guard was flanked by Fritillary, who looked exhausted, and Sergeant Horntail carrying a small boy.
Oh, oak and acorn, he thought. That’s got to be Prince Garred. The boy struggled free of Horntail’s arms and ran across to his father, calling, “Papa, Papa!”
“Your Majesty…” Fritillary’s tone said it all.
Saker could only watch while Ryce fell apart in a heartrending mixture of joy and raw, rekindled grief, while Sergeant Horntail prostrated himself before his new king in abject despair.
33
Lives Upended
That night, Saker, Fritillary, Piper, Banstel and the whole Barklee family slept in Faith House. There were no clerics in residence, but the ordinary lay servants had remained. Fritillary insisted on questioning them closely, using her witchery.
“No problem with any of them,” she told Saker as they sat alone in the dining room of Fox’s private quarters, chatting over the remains of their meal after the others had gone to bed. “They’re all glad to be rid of Valerian Fox.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “They are not my servants. I’m not going to be living here. This is just temporary.”
She snorted. “We’ll see.”
“Now that we’re alone, tell me the details of what happened to Princess Bealina.”
“Not a happy tale,” she admitted. “Sorrel blames herself for Bealina’s death. Pointless guilt, really. In fact, had she lived, I think Bealina might have killed herself anyway.”
He listened, appalled, as she detailed the circumstances. “That’s horrible,” he said. I hate that man more than I have ever hated…
“Her death is a great loss to Ardrone and to Ryce. But the baby? Its unborn state can only be a good thing.”
“I hope you don’t think we should kill Piper and Prince-regal Karel, simply because they are Fox’s children?”
To his horror, she paused before answering. “I don’t know, Saker. When they are adults, will they agree to wear those circlets? Can we be sure that those things will even work?”
He wanted to protest, but the words stuck in his throat. No one could be sure.
She said gently, “I do know there have been far too many deaths of children in this whole sorry business.”
“I try not to remember. It bites too deep.”
“This has been hard on all of us.”
“You’re looking more than just tired. Are you all right?” he asked.
“Oh, that’s probably all the walking through timeless places,” she said. “It certainly turned my hair white.”
“Are the paths still necessary?”
“In Lowmeer, no. Their shrines are back in
real time. But elsewhere, witchery folk trained at hidden shrines are walking those paths to Vavala and Staravale where our armies are gathering. The Great Oak in Vavala is still hidden, but it connects to what used to be the Water Purifiers Guild building.”
He knew the place; it wasn’t far from Proctor House.
“We’ll go to open warfare against Valerian and his remaining sons soon,” she said. “Our folk are already using their witcheries to weaken Fox’s army in numerous ways.”
“For example?”
“Horse charmers have been appropriating his army transport. Grey Lancers don’t treat their mounts or their packhorses well. Easy for a charmer to winkle horses away at night, or better still, liberate a whole pack-train, including the supplies.”
“And where is Sir Herelt Deremer now?”
“Near the Valance border in Staravale, leading his Dire Sweepers, other Lowmians, plus soldiers from Staravale and West Denva. He’ll cross the River Ard soon to join up with my forces. He’s sent word that he believes there are no sorcerers remaining west of the river. He had the advantage of starting earlier, before Fox’s sons had experience. And being ruthless helped too. He thinks nothing of burning whole buildings to kill one sorcerer.”
“Not a man of kindly disposition.”
“He’s brutal, Saker, make no mistake about that. But then, we’re fighting a brutal foe.”
“Where is Valerian now?”
“In Vavala still. A number of his sons are gathering there too.”
“I’m not sure Ryce will help us, Your Reverence.”
She paled. “He’s not given any indication when he’ll bring his men north?”
He shook his head. “He’s plunged straight into Ardrone’s problems. I think he’s appalled at what he has found, so his focus is on repairing the kingdom and building his own reign.”
“I was counting on him. And on the Ardronese navy for carrying supplies…”
“I doubt it will happen.”
She rose and started to pace as she talked. “Sometimes I wonder at myself. I’m a woman of faith, a proponent of harmony, and all I can think about is war. How will we win without Ardrone? Herelt’s men are tough, but they are more used to operating furtively in clandestine ways. Apart from them, we have a few reluctant soldiers from the Principalities, all with little training and no experience. There’s only one Peregrine. You and Ardhi and Sorrel – one ternion. A few Chenderawasi magical objects of unknown value. A reluctant sea eagle.”
He tried to joke. “Don’t underestimate my eagle.”
She stopped dead. “Will you come north with me?”
“Of course! The ternion has to be together. And we are your best chance to bring down Valerian.”
“I have proof that he’s increasing his power on a daily basis by draining others of life – mostly very young children. There’s been a spate of kidnapped babies. Several of my people have tried to assassinate him. They never got the chance.” She started to pace again. “You thought he was bad enough when you knew him. That’s nothing to what he is now. Nothing.”
Her fear shocked him. Fritillary, frightened? He repressed a shiver. “Do any of his sons know how to prolong their lives the way he does?”
“We’ve seen no evidence of that. But would we know?”
“That secret might die with him. Our ternion will kill him.”
“Every sorcerer has to die for us to be sure we are safe.” She turned to face him. “Every single one.”
“I will never countenance killing an innocent child, just to be ‘sure’. That’s what Deremer and his Sweepers used to do. We will keep an eye on the twins.”
“Will that be enough?” Her gaze locked on his. “You will die of old age before the twins do. You’ve got to do more than ‘keep an eye on them’. You have to find a way to cure them.”
She left the alternative unspoken and he wasn’t foolish enough to ask what it was.
“When are you returning to Vavala?” he asked.
“Not tomorrow. I need to rest one whole day.”
“I’ll go with you, but I have a horrid idea Ryce won’t be happy. He wants to appoint me as his Prime.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s quite a promotion.”
“It’s ridiculous. There’s never been a Prime so young.”
“There’s always a first time. You’ve grown up, Saker. You’ve seen the world, thought about life. If you’re concerned about protecting the lands of the Summer Seas from rapine, what better position to be in than spiritual adviser to a monarch in this hemisphere?”
With that remark, she left the room and went to bed.
The following morning, Ryce spent three hours closeted alone with Fritillary. Saker was busy in Faith House, but around midday a servant came to tell him he was to partake of luncheon with the king and the Pontifect. A number of other notables, including Juster, Beargold and Seaforth, were also there, and Saker was unsurprised when Ryce announced that he felt there was far too much to be done in Ardrone for him to send any forces to the north.
“We have a remarkable opportunity to defeat the Grey Lancers left behind in Ardrone,” he said, “because Fox has called all his sorcerous sons to help him against Deremer’s army in the Principalities. Without sorcerers, Ardronese Grey Lancers are leaderless. I want every single one of them dead.”
He has a point, Saker thought, wondering nonetheless if it was wise to stay at home and watch Fox make firewood and mincemeat of Deremer’s army, or, worse still, of Fritillary’s secret one. However, his opinion was not asked. When he met Juster’s gaze across the dining table, it was clear the buccaneer didn’t think much of the decision either, but Juster was Ryce’s man. He would not be taking the fleet north.
After the meal was finished, the king kept Saker and Fritillary back. “I want to tell you,” he said, addressing Fritillary, “that I intend to make Saker my Prime.”
“I’ve no problem with that,” she said calmly.
“I do!” Saker protested. “I don’t have the experience for such a post. Moreover, I’m going north with Pontifect Fritillary. I have to fight this war, even if Your Highness’s – Your Majesty’s forces may be better employed elsewhere.”
Ryce frowned. “In Fox, we had an experienced arbiter, an older, much respected cleric – and look where it got us. You can’t be worse than he was, Saker. It’s not possible.”
Fritillary rose from her chair. “I think it best if Your Majesty would give me leave to retire. This is a matter for you to settle between yourselves.”
Ryce nodded his agreement, and the two of them were left eyeing each other across the table with the remains of the meal still in front of them.
“Your Majesty, I do not want to be your Prime. Someone of my age and experience would not garner the respect of the clergy, the very people a Prime is supposed to lead.”
“Saker, the very first king of the Betany line, the man who persuaded ten warring dukes to give up their ducal power and unite into one kingdom, was twenty-two years old when he was crowned king.”
Saker clenched his fists at his sides, not in anger, but in resolution. He would not take on the position of Prime of Ardrone. “Va-faith in Ardrone is in turmoil,” he said. “There have been too many arguments, too much division and too much distrust. There is still a problem with Primordials in the Shenat Hills—”
“Everyone knows now that Fox is a sorcerer and an evil man,” Ryce interrupted. “Those who followed his spiritual leadership are scurrying away from his legacy like rats trying to hide in dark holes. They aren’t going to present any problem to you. They want everyone to forget what they did and what they believed.”
“Perhaps, but there are still town clerics who believe Shenat is superstitious nonsense and that we should be ridding ourselves of shrines and strengthening Va worship. Va-faith in Ardrone needs to be led by a man or woman of stature, someone capable of uniting clerics, witans and shrine keepers. I am not that person. It wasn’t so long ago that I was
accused of apostasy and blasphemy, and may I remind you that my nullification was the decision of a king’s court.”
“That’s exactly why I think you will be accepted as my Prime. You suffered personally from Valerian Fox’s evil. Your conviction will be overturned by a royal decree and news of your innocence will be spread by public notice in every town and village. Your part in the battle against sorcery will be acknowledged and you will be rewarded. A title will be in order, of course.”
“Oh, for Va’s sake, Ryce!” he cried, dispensing with formality. “You aren’t listening to me! I do not want to be the Prime. I’m not the kind of man who likes to sit behind a desk dealing with paperwork, backbiting clerics and details of religious doctrine and liturgy. You know that. And I don’t give a hog’s piddle about titles!”
“Yes, so I’ve noticed, from the infrequency with which you use mine. But I need you, Saker. I need a man I can trust. I need a friend keeping an eye on our faith. I have to surround myself with people who have power, and yet don’t have to be watched every minute of the day to make sure they’re not stabbing me in the back. Do you understand? By now, everyone knows I killed the king! Regicide and patricide – have you any idea how many of the nobility are ready to turn on me because of that? I have a second cousin who will stir up trouble, for a start, and I can’t touch him. Your very reluctance to take on this post tells me that you won’t fail me.”
It was a plea from the heart which Saker felt as a physical pain in his chest. Ryce needed him. But the thought of a lifetime of administration and dealing with either quarrelling nit-picking clerics or stubborn shrine keepers? No, please no.
“The Pontifect supports your appointment.”
“Then she too is going to be disappointed. I’m sorry, Ryce, I can’t do this. May I have your leave to withdraw?”
Ryce waved a hand in acquiescence, so he stood up and bowed. However, before he turned away, Ryce asked, “What do you want to do?”
“Right now? Go to Vavala, kill Valerian Fox and help win the battle against his Grey Lancers and his remaining sons. After that, Sorrel and I want to pick up Piper and take her to Lowmeer. Regala Mathilda has to decide what’s to be done about her future. What happens after that, I’m not sure.”
