Erland sank back against Miya’s soft body and let warmth infuse him. He sighed and felt something leave from within, an ache that had been there every minute since the ambush. “It’s so odd,” he said quietly. “It just hit me now that Borric must be dead. Yet …”
“What?” James asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” Erland looked at James and there was a question in his eyes. “How is it supposed to feel? I mean, Borric and I haven’t spent more than a few days apart ever. It’s like we were … just part of each other. I thought that if I lost him, or he me, we’d … feel it. Do you know what I mean?”
James got up. “I think so. At least, I think I know as much as anyone can who has never had one in their life to be as close with as you two were with each other. But I’ve watched you since you were babies and I’ve seen you fight and play. I think I know what you mean.”
Erland sighed again. “I just thought it would feel different. That’s all. It’s not like he’s dead, you know, just very far away.” Erland’s eyes got heavy and he closed them. A moment later his breathing became more regular and he dozed.
James motioned for the servant who held his cloak to return it. To Miya he said, “We dine with the Empress again, tonight. Wake him when it’s time.”
She nodded, not speaking so as not to wake the sleeping Prince. James folded his cloak over his arm and departed.
Erland finished dressing as Miya announced Lord Jaka. The Prince was not surprised, as he had a feeling there would be a reaction from Diigai’s father over the afternoon’s business. Erland motioned for the servant to admit the Keshian noble and a few moments later the tall warrior entered. Miya moved a discreet distance away, out of earshot but close enough should Erland need her.
Jaka bowed before Erland, then said, “My lord Prince, I trust I have not come at an inopportune minute?”
“No, Lord Jaka. I was just finishing my dressing in anticipation of dining with your Empress.”
Jaka made a gesture with both his hands, held parallel and moving them downward and out, the meaning of which Kafi had told him was, “May heaven protect,” or “May heaven give bounty,” an all-purpose benediction.
The old warrior said, “I have come to speak to you of this thing you did this afternoon.”
“Yes?”
Jaka seemed to struggle with the words he wished to say. “As a hunter of great reputation, it would have been a shameful thing to my family for my son to have failed in his manhood hunt, today. It is difficult to accept such a thing.
“There are those who will say that you robbed my son of a courageous death, or that his kill is tainted because of your interference.”
Here it comes, thought Erland. He had half expected something like this.
“Yet,” continued Jaka, “you did but annoy the animal, distracting it long enough for my son to recover his spear.”
Erland nodded. “The kill was his.”
“This is true. So, while I am partially mixed in my feelings as to the elegance of the kill, as a father of a boy I love deeply, I wish to thank you for allowing him his manhood.” Softly he added, “And for saving his life.”
Erland stood motionless an instant, struggling with what he should say. Then he took the course that would allow the father the most pride possible under the circumstances. “I acted impulsively. As you know, my brother was recently lost to me, and your son in a way puts me in mind of him. In another time, I might have merely observed. But your son showed nothing but courage. Perhaps he would have regained the spear without my aid. Who can say?”
“Who, indeed?” said the old man. “It was a young cat, inexperienced and in great pain. A more experienced hunter would have struck it in the face with the flat of the shield, no damage, but noise and pain. If the cat attacks the shield, the experienced hunter lets him and attempts to recover the spear. It is a thing we teach, though in the heat of the moment, it is easily forgotten. Easily forgotten, Your Highness.
“I must leave, my lord Prince. But before I do, know that should you have need, I am in your debt.”
Erland could think of nothing appropriate to say to such a straightforward offer of thanks, so he merely said, “Thank you for the courtesy of your call, and the honor of your presence, Lord Jaka.”
The Commander of the Imperial Charioteers bowed to Prince Erland and departed. Erland turned to where Miya stood, and said, “I will see you later this evening, I expect.”
Miya came to Erland and stood a moment, adjusting his tunic, more for the closeness it brought than for any true need, and said, “I will see you sooner, my Prince. I am ordered to the Empress’s presence.”
“Something’s amiss?”
Miya shrugged. “Nothing. All who serve in the palace of She Who Is Kesh are occasionally permitted to share the glory of the Empress’s court.”
“Good. I will see you there.”
Erland motioned for the doors to his apartment to be opened and two young women swung them wide. Outside, four Krondorian Palace Guards stood waiting, in formal uniform. They fell in around Erland, and in lockstep they marched down the large halls of the palace.
Along the route, they were joined by James and Gamina, then Locklear, and finally Lord Kafi. When they reached the Imperial complex of the palace, the Krondorian Guards halted, as it was not permitted for soldiers of a foreign nation to approach the Imperial presence.
Erland entered to the fanfare of trumpets. Leading his small band, as senior most in rank he was required to address the Empress first. The Keshian Master of Ceremonies intoned the long list of praise for the approaching Prince, and Erland knew from his coaching this signaled that the court was a formal one. He refrained from smiling as he thought that the difference between formal dining and informal was a matter of label with the Empress. He was sorely wishing to be back in Krondor, eating at a simple table with Borric in the corner of the kitchen, something they had done often, rather than endure state dinners with their parents.
Reaching the foot of the dais, Erland bowed and the Master of Ceremonies said, “O She Who Is Kesh, I have the honor of presenting to you His Highness, Prince Erland, Heir to the Throne of the Kingdom of the Isles, Knight-Captain of the Western Realm.”
Erland stood upright and said, “Your Majesty, I thank you for the kindness of sharing your bounty with myself and my companions. May I present—” and he went through the formality of presenting his companions, as he had each time they had come before the Empress. He wondered if this nonsense went on at every meal of the day.
The Empress said, “Your Highness had a busy day, from all reports.” Erland waited for her to say more, but all she said was, “It is our pleasure that you join us again, Your Highness. Please, enjoy the bounty of our tables.”
Entering the hall as Erland turned was Prince Awari, with several of his companions. One, closest to Erland as he passed, spat upon the floor before the Prince.
Erland halted, his eyes widening and his face reddening. The young man who had spat began to move on, when Erland turned and said, “You!”
All eyes turned to watch the two young men. The young man looked at Erland with narrow eyes. He was a trueblood, probably an important noble’s son, given his proximity to the Prince, and his body was muscular and strong. Erland smelled a fight coming, and was in no mood to avoid it.
“Erland!” James’s voice hissed in the Prince’s ear. “Back off!”
The Empress watches, came Gamina’s warning.
Erland glanced at the throne as the young noble came to stand before him. The Empress’s attention was riveted upon the two who stood facing each other. A court noble moved to intercede, and the Empress ordered him to her side. She seemed disinclined to interfere. Rather, there was an avid glint in her eye. Erland wondered if this was some sort of test, to determine what sort of ruler of Isles Kesh would face in years to come. If that were so, thought Erland, they find a staunch opponent if need be.
When the young man was inches from the Pr
ince he said, “What, sahdareen?”
A few voices could be heard muttering. In this court, to be a non-hunter was to be less than noble, and to be called such was a deadly insult.
Erland glanced at Prince Awari, to see if he would interfere. The Prince looked on, interest in his eyes, and a slight smile upon his lips. Erland then knew the young man had insulted him at Prince Awari’s bidding. Erland took a breath, then as quickly as he could, he brought his hand across his chest, and delivered a punishing backhanded blow to the young man’s face.
The youth staggered as his knees buckled. He collapsed to the floor, but before he could complete the fall, Erland grabbed the ornamental torque around his throat and lifted him by it.
“He who insults me in Kesh’s court insults the Kingdom of the Isles. I cannot let that pass.” He released the young man’s torque, pushing him away. The youth staggered but retained his feet. Erland said, “You have the choice of weapons.”
James gripped Erland’s arm. He whispered, “You cannot fight this duel. It is what they want.”
But the young man only said, “I do not understand what you mean.”
Erland said, “Sir, I’ve struck you! You have the right to name the weapons we shall use when we duel.”
The young man’s face knotted in an expression of unfeigned perplexity. “Duel? Why would I fight you? You would surely kill me.”
Erland did not know what to say. He was spared the need of saying anything by the Empress. “Lord Kilawa.”
A man of middle years stood up, at a table located near the back of the room. “My Empress’s command?”
“Your son is a buffoon, Kilawa. He insults a guest in my house. What is to be done with him?”
The man’s face went pale. But he stood erect as he spoke. “Your wish, Majesty?”
The Empress hesitated, then said, “I should have his head presented to Prince Erland in a jar of honey and wine, as a trophy, but as our ways are not His Highness’s, I think this would only serve to cause him more discomfort.” She paused, then said, “Young Rasajani.”
Instantly, the youth who had insulted Erland bowed his head toward the Empress. “Your Majesty?”
“The sight of you causes me discomfort. You are banished from the upper city. Never set foot upon the plateau so long as the light shines from my eyes. When I have gone to the Hall of Eternal Beauty, then the one who rules after me may prove merciful and allow your return. That is as much forbearance as you’ll get from me—and only because your father is dear to me. I don’t have much mercy left in my bitter old bones. Now, begone!”
When he reached the table set aside for his party, Erland turned to Kafi and said, “What was that about?”
The desert man seemed uncertain of the question.
“My Prince?”
“Why did he insult me if he didn’t wish to fight?” Erland said as he sat down.
Sitting, Kafi said, “It is a trueblood thing, Highness. You must understand: they are not a warrior people. They are hunters. Warriors are little more than dogs to be turned loose upon an opponent. Oh, they’ll fight if necessary and with ferocity, but they count no honor in it. It is only a bloody necessity in defense of the home or in time of war. No, honor is in the ability to track down your prey, to bring it to bay, and kill it with a single blow. That is honor to a trueblood. For young Rasajani to fight you would be unreasonable. You are a warrior of undoubted talents. You would quickly kill him. He knew that, so to fight you would be sheer folly. He insulted you merely to let the world know of his disdain for you.”
Erland shook his head as he said, “This is a difficult thing to understand.”
Kafi shrugged. “To them it is difficult to understand how a man would allow circumstances to force him into fighting someone he knew was a finer warrior over a matter of honor. It is, from their point of view, tantamount to suicide.” Kafi took a bite of a small bit of fruit and added, “I have been with these people my entire life, Highness, and many of their ways are … difficult to understand. If you could follow Rasajani out of the palace, overtake him without being seen, then merely to touch him on the back with your weapon would do him as much injury as killing him … more, even, for then you would have proved to the world you were the superior hunter.”
The party of Princess Sharana entered, and walking a step back was Miya. Erland turned his mind from the insult to drink in the sight of the golden-skinned Princess, then said to Kafi, “Why is my serving maid with the Princess tonight?”
Kafi smiled. “Because your ‘serving maid’ is Lady Miya, Sharana’s cousin.”
Erland’s eyes widened. “Cousin? To the Princess? You’re joking?”
Kafi said, “Of course not, Highness. The Empress would not allow slaves nor ‘inferiors’ such as myself to attend your personal needs in your own quarters.” The word “inferiors” snarled with barely hidden bitterness. “So only young men and women of noble birth—lesser sons and daughters—may serve the Empress and her guests.”
Now Erland’s eyes grew round. “All of them!”
Kafi said, “Yes, every servant in your chamber is a daughter of nobility.” He waved absently at the others around the table, who were watching Erland’s discomfort. “Of course all in your apartment, Your Highness, are related to the Empress and of royal blood.”
Erland said, “Gods and demons. I’ve bedded half the royal daughters in the Empire, I fear.”
Kafi laughed. “Not by a tenth, Highness. Many are related, albeit distantly, to Her Majesty. And what if you did? The trueblood look upon questions of the body differently than you or I. Their women are as free to take lovers as the men. It comes from having as many Empresses as Emperors.” Again there was a hint of bitterness in the last observation.
As protocol dictated, the Princess Sojiana and her retinue were the last to enter, and she made formal inquiry as to her mother’s health. The forms were met as required, and the meal commenced.
Servants appeared when the Princess’s party was seated and the dinner began. Little talking occurred around Erland’s table, as both the Prince and Locklear seemed content to stare across the room, Erland at Princess Sharana and Lady Miya, and Locklear at their mother.
James leaned over to ask Kafi a question. “Who is that sitting next to Lord Nirome? I’ve not seen him before.”
James indicated a powerful-looking man with ebony skin who wore the black armor of the Inner Legion, the core army of the Empire. He had a clean-shaven head and wore a single golden earring, but otherwise no finery.
Kafi said, “That is General Beruck. He has just returned from crushing a rebellion in the south.”
“Interesting looking fellow,” observed the Earl.
Kafi said, “Indeed.” Lowering his voice, he said, “It is suggested that he is not entirely of trueblood stock. His father was elderly, and one particular guardsman in his mother’s service was very dark of skin.” James glanced around the room and had to concede that Beruck was clearly the darkest-skinned noble in the room. “Of course, no one suggests such a thing to his face. He is not only a great hunter, but given his skill with a sword and his temper, he would not back away from a duel.” Lowering his voice even more, he said, “He is a very dangerous man.” Kafi looked as if he was about to say more, then thought better of it, and lapsed into silence.
James studied the newcomer and marked him as being exactly what Kafi said: dangerous.
Later that evening, James requested Erland accompany Gamina and himself upon a stroll through one of the many palace gardens. Assuming there was a reason for the odd request, the Prince agreed.
As they were entering the garden, Gamina’s voice entered Erland’s mind. James asks that you speak through me, as he is certain that even in the center of this garden we are likely to be overheard. Aloud she said, “Not like home, but lovely, don’t you think?”
Erland said, “I agree, completely.”
James’s voice came into Erland’s mind, with Gamina’s aid. I have fin
ally been contacted by our agent in the palace.
Finally? Has there been a problem?
A problem? There was a feeling of humor with James’s answer. Only that we’re under constant supervision. Half the “servants” in our quarters are most likely Keshian spies—which is a faint differentiation, as anything we do would be reported as a matter of course by those who are not spies. I think something very important is happening.
Erland asked Gamina how her day passed, and they chatted about inconsequential things, as they found a magnificent marble water fountain: three demons of comic aspect seemed to be trapped in motion, and above them beautiful nude women hunted them from chariots. Water poured out of the rear of the three chariots as the demons were herded toward the center of the pool. Somehow a light shone from below, by what means Erland couldn’t guess, and the effect was truly wonderful.
Aloud he said, “I must ask how this light effect is done. I must have one like it built in Krondor.” Mentally, he said, What do you think is going on?
I’m not sure yet, answered James. I’ve pieced together this much. The Empress’s health fails. She is more ill than is apparent. That is common gossip in the palace and the city below. What isn’t known is that she is expected to name Prince Awari her heir, but every sign points to her naming Sojiana, or even Sharana, before her own son. The Empress and her son have had differences for years and at times have barely spoken.
So there’s a question of inheritance of the throne?
Apparently, answered James. The throne usually passes to the eldest child.
“Lovely night,” said Erland aloud. But that’s Sojiana.
True, but there is a major faction of nobles who would see Awari upon the throne. First because the last two rulers have been women, and many of the subject nations of Kesh are fiercely patriarchal and fear that three women rulers in a row might turn Kesh into a matriarchy. In ancient times, the people of Kesh went through such a period. But the major reason for wanting Awari named heir is he’s seen by many as simply being more able. Sojiana is … seen as weak by many. Her late husband was a powerful voice in the Gallery of Lords and Masters, their equivalent to our own Congress of Lords. But others fear her as being … dangerous. She is able to manipulate Awari and other lords … enough so that if Awari is named the next Emperor, she could still cause difficulties in the Gallery.
Prince of the Blood Page 24
