“And no one else could perform such a task with your grace and charm, I’m sure, my lord.” Dannel bowed. “Good afternoon.” It wasn’t necessary to bow before a regent or address him that way, but Dannel had made extra humility and respect his trademark. Rampus, whose ego was always ready for a little more stroking, generally responded well to it and had come to expect it from him now.
“I was hoping I could have a word with you, my lord, if it wouldn’t keep you from anything else important.”
“Nothing that can’t wait, I suppose. Come on in.” Rampus led the way back into his office and seated himself behind the huge oaken desk across from the hearth. “You have something to report?”
The streaks of silver in the regent’s dark hair gleamed in the firelight as Dannel stood facing him a polite distance away. “No definite news, my lord; just rumors I thought you might want to hear. Rumors which I would be glad to follow up on if you wish.”
Rampus fiddled with a stack of parchment on the desk before him. “What sort of rumors?”
“In the marketplace this morning, I overheard a conversation between a farmer who had come to sell a cartload of cabbages, and the shopkeeper who was buying them from him. The shopkeeper was asking why the man hadn’t brought any oats as he apparently usually does at this time of year. The farmer replied that a young boy had shown up at his farm on a wagon and arranged to buy his entire crop of oats for an excellent price. It was more than the farmer would have earned for them in Sazellia, so he sold them to the lad, no questions asked.”
“Why is this my concern?” Rampus snapped, irritated. “I have the Alasian situation to monitor now, a dozen more businessmen on my list of people to fawn over, possible rebellion to deal with right here in the palace, and you come wasting my time with stories of marketplace chatter?”
“Allow me to set your mind at ease on one count at least, my lord. From my investigations, I don’t believe you have to worry about rebellion at the moment. The minstrel was one of very few who hold his viewpoint. General opinion in the palace is that your actions showed power, courage, even genius; and that you undoubtedly saved us all from danger and destruction. Now, the farmer –”
“But Arden planted the seed of doubt in everyone’s mind,” Rampus growled, folding his arms and staring balefully into the fireplace across from his desk. Dannel could tell the issue had been eating at him all day. “It was a mistake to have him perform at the banquet. I should have known the wretched fellow was in too close with the royal family. Still, I didn’t think he had the spine for that sort of openly traitorous act. And it had to have such a catchy tune! Everyone in the palace is probably singing it behind my back now. I even have that stupid song lodged in my head!”
Dannel thought it wise to make no reply except for a sympathetic smile as the regent pounded his desk with a fist. “I’m tempted to have you slit that traitor’s body open,” Rampus went on, “and relieve him of that inconvenient spine of his. That would teach him the lesson he obviously needs, along with anyone who might agree with his political leanings.”
“Indeed it would, my lord,” Dannel agreed. “The minstrel might miss it in his last few moments of life, but I daresay I could fashion it into an interesting decoration to mount above your mantelpiece there.” Though he kept his face serious, it tickled him no end to see that his employer was truly taken aback at this offer. The regent would certainly not hesitate to order an execution the moment he had the political power to do so, and in the meantime he never balked at assassination. But even he knew little of Dannel’s true nature and probably wasn’t sure whether or not to assume his favorite spy was serious in his suggestion of office decor.
“If only I could have you redecorate the room that way,” Rampus sighed finally. “But at this point it would merely confirm the accusations in Arden’s song. Still, the day will soon be here when I need no longer care about my public image. When that time comes, the minstrel and everyone else who has opposed me will suffer for it, and perhaps I will find a way to display their remains as a warning to others. But for now, let him rot in the dungeon.”
“And that in itself is an effective display of your power, my lord,” Dannel assured him. “I’m told the queen sent orders for him to be released yesterday. Imagine her royal surprise when the guards refused to obey, citing your command as a greater authority than hers.”
Leaning back in his chair, Rampus finally smiled. “The guards know better than to disobey me, especially now. The queen is powerless, and before long her meddling majesty will be out of the picture completely.” He cracked his knuckles one by one, obviously reveling in the thought. “As soon as the crown sits securely on my head, I’ll deal with her and the princess. No point in leaving them around to get in my way. I’ll make use of your services when that time comes, though I’m afraid you’ll need to act more discreetly and less artistically than you described. The queen is popular, after all, thanks no doubt to those personal appearances she’s so fond of making at city events, where she walks around and talks to people as though she really cares.” He sighed once more. “Just the sort of thing I hate to do, though I’ve been working at it too. Still, I daresay she’s better liked than I am. Yet another reason to remove her from the picture.”
“I quite agree, my lord.” Dannel bowed again. “My skills, as always, will be at your service.” Except when it’s more profitable to employ them in someone else’s service, of course.
“But if you will allow me,” he continued, “speaking of the royal family brings me back to the original purpose of my visit. A farmer near the foothills, selling a wagonload of oats to someone he’d never met – perhaps it would be worth investigating whose horses will be eating all those oats.”
Rampus stared at him, finally understanding. “You don’t mean that you think …?”
“It’s possible, my lord. Quite possible.”
“But there was a servant with him who was supposed to report back to me. Yes, I know Korram avoided all the towns where we set up those ambushes and had the messengers ready. But even if the man never had a chance to get word to me from the mountains, if they’re back to where they can buy supplies, they’re back to where he could send a message easily enough. I should have received word by now if Korram had actually managed to raise an army, let alone return with one.”
“Perhaps something happened to the servant, my lord. Korram may have realized his intentions and dispatched him.” Or I may have redirected him for my own purposes.
“Korram could never have survived in the mountains on his own.” But Rampus, to his credit, paused and reconsidered. “Still, the boy’s always been stubborn. Perhaps he learned a few survival skills after all. Considering the Mountain Folk’s reputation, I would be amazed if he had really gotten any sizable number of them to cooperate, though. It was a long shot from the beginning, but I suppose anything is possible.”
So he isn’t underestimating his enemy. Not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Dannel nodded. “Though we had hoped and assumed the prince would die in the wilderness, he may just have gathered an army and returned after all. Would you like me to look into the matter and let you know for certain?” Then I can ascertain his chances of success and decide whether it would benefit me more to help him.
Rampus considered this. “I’m not sure it would be worth it at this point. I need your eyes and ears more in Alasia. If young Korram has gathered the army to add to ours, as he claimed originally, doubtless he’ll bring his soldiers here soon. Then I’ll simply have them sent off to some battle they cannot win, and that will be the end of them all. If he’s recruited them for his own purposes, as I’ve always suspected, then I’ll deal with them eventually. But one way or another, the opportunity for a quiet assassination is probably over; no attempt on his life would be likely to remain secret at this point. For some reason the public still thinks highly of him and his family, and I can’t afford any negative publicity before his crown is securely on my head. But I�
�m Malorn’s legal ruler for a few more months yet, and if he takes any action against me in that time, I’ll be well within my rights to strike back.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Dannel agreed. “And if I might venture a suggestion, perhaps it would be wise to pretend to believe the best of him, at least to begin with, so he will trust that you have his best interests at heart.” Although if Korram ever actually trusts Rampus, he’ll be much more stupid than I give him credit for. He’s probably been pretending to believe the best of Rampus for years now. “Then it might be easier to lure him and his army into some trap later on. Nearly anything can happen in enemy territory.”
Rampus chuckled. “Indeed it can. And as inconvenient as the timing of his return is – if he has indeed returned – I’m not about to let that keep me from my goal. I’ve worked for too many years for this, and success is just around the corner. No annoying royal brat will get in my way. I just have to find the right time and method to take care of him.” Rampus smiled coldly at Dannel. “Put out the word that I’m to be informed if he’s ever seen in Sazellia. If Korram is really back, he won’t hide up in the foothills for long. I’ll deal with him and his army one way or another.”
Winter had arrived by now, and the mountains above the army camp were robed in white. There was no snow at this low elevation, but the air had a bite to it. At night the horses huddled together for warmth, and by day they scavenged restlessly for grass. They had long since used up most of what grew in the area. But Jeskie, who traveled back and forth to nearby farms and villages for supplies every couple of days, brought back things called oats and hay that the horses seemed to like just as much as grass. There were Lowland vegetables and other foreign foods for the army, but Ernth preferred his supply of dried goat and the occasional deer or rabbit.
But game in this area was getting scarce too. “That’s why we never camp in one spot for this long,” Ernth informed Korram one evening when the two of them had gone out riding before supper. Their platoon had won the extra free time that day, and they were making the most of their freedom, but they hadn’t seen a single living animal in the area, apart from their horses.
“Surely we won’t have to stay much longer,” he added hopefully. “The army must be almost ready. We’ve been practicing and practicing, and we’re good at all the things Sanjik tells us to do now.”
“Our army is probably about as skilled as it’s going to get anytime soon,” Korram agreed, “but I still don’t know exactly what to do with it. I’ve been thinking I need to pay another visit to Sazellia. My mother will know what to do, and if she doesn’t, Arden always has creative ideas.”
Ernth didn’t relish the thought of another trip to the city, but he was getting tired of staying camped in one place. Besides, he would enjoy the opportunity to taste coffee again. When Jeskie went out for supplies he never brought back enough of the delicious drink for the soldiers; just for Sanjik, who never offered to share.
“Why don’t we go tomorrow?” Ernth suggested. “Maybe I’ll be lucky and someone there will try to kill you.” But he only half meant it. As much as he would have liked to fulfill his obligation and hurry home, his friends in the army were almost a second family now. It would be hard to say goodbye.
Korram laughed. “I hope you don’t get that lucky. I need you in my army at least until we defeat Rampus. But yes, let’s go tomorrow. I’ll tell Thel; I’m sure she’ll want to come again. Just try not to make a scene the way you did last time. I’m sure Rampus has spies watching for me all over the city, and I don’t want to attract any more attention than necessary.”
Chapter 19
Korram was feeling both excited and apprehensive as he rode into Sazellia the next afternoon with Ernth, Thel, and Jeskie. How many months had it been since he had seen his family? He had lost track, and he missed them awfully. This time he had brought parchment and ink, courtesy of Sanjik, and planned to send Jeskie to the palace with a note. Perhaps Mother, Kalendria, and Arden could meet him somewhere in the city where they could talk without being overheard.
Almost as soon as they entered Sazellia, Korram could tell that something was different. Traffic on the streets was a little lighter than usual, and those who walked or rode by or stood around talking seemed excited and anxious. A pair of musicians sitting in front of a tavern beat out a heart-quickening martial rhythm on twin drums.
“I wonder what’s goin’ on,” Jeskie remarked, noticing the change as well.
“Something’s happened.” Korram was sure of it. He didn’t know what, but knowing Rampus, it was something that would help him and – at least indirectly – hurt those opposed to him. Could Rampus have made a move against his family? The thought sent a cold spike of fear through his insides. “I have to get home!”
He urged Clinja to a canter and clattered down the street in the direction of the palace, the other three following.
“Don’t you think we should slow down?” called Jeskie from behind. He hurried forward until their two horses were side by side. “If there’s somethin’ bad happenin’, shouldn’t we wait and find out more before you go rushin’ into it?”
“My family could be in danger,” Korram shot back, swaying a little to keep his balance as Clinja dodged around a slow-moving cart. Like the others, he no longer needed to use his hands, instead gripping with his knees and directing Clinja with just his feet.
“It would prob’ly only take me a moment to find out what’s goin’ on,” Jeskie protested. “Are you sure you don’t wanna stop and get more information?”
Clinja had been traveling for hours and was tired, and the palace was still several miles away. Korram could hear her panting, feel her muscles straining to keep up the pace he demanded; and finally he slowed her to a walk once more.
“All right,” he admitted. “The horses don’t have the energy to go rushing into anything anyway. I suppose we should stop somewhere and try to find out what’s going on, but let’s try to do it quickly.”
Jeskie pointed. “I know the woman who runs the little bakery just down that street yonder. Let’s go in and see what she says.”
He led the way, and they dismounted and tied their horses up outside the building, concealing their spears behind some bushes nearby.
The interior was pleasantly warm and full of the yeasty aroma of baking bread. Racks of biscuits, scones, and pastries lined the walls, and two women in white aprons bustled about helping customers find what they wanted.
“Hello, Gelta,” the boy greeted one of the women.
“Jeskie!” The woman turned and tousled his curly hair affectionately. “Haven’t seen you around in a while. Need work this afternoon? I could use an extra set of hands back in the kitchen.”
“Sorry, I’m busy today,” Jeskie told her. “This time I’m gonna actually pay for some o’ your pastries. That is, my friend here is gonna pay.” He nudged Korram. “We’ll take four o’ those little pork pies you make so good.”
As Korram pulled out a handful of the money his mother had sent him earlier through Sanjik, Jeskie added conversationally, “I’ve been outta town for a while. What’s been goin’ on ’round here?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard?” The woman picked out two pieces of silver from Korram’s hand and counted out sixteen coppers from her own pocket for him in change. “Our army has attacked Alasia.”
Korram gasped. “What?”
“Yes, three weeks ago now. Apparently Regent Rampus got word that the Alasians were planning to attack us, so he struck the first blow and took them by surprise. Defeated them soundly and wiped out nearly their whole army, or so I’ve heard. Killed the royal family too.” The woman shook her head in sympathy. “Not sure why that was necessary, but then, I’m no military leader. I do know that most of our troops are still over there, and probably will be for a while. My neighbor’s son is in the army, and he writes to her every week regular. He says our men were able to take over the kingdom without much resistance and with only a handful of Malornian c
asualties. Apparently there’s been some uprisings here and there, but the Alasians know there isn’t much they can do, what with their king and his family dead and all.”
The woman turned to pull a tray of tiny pies off of a flour-dusted shelf and handed one to each of them. “Oh, and Regent Rampus himself just left for Alasia this morning. Word is he’s going to take the land and make it part of Malorn.” She grinned in admiration. “Can you imagine? Our kingdom will be nearly twice as big! And they say they’ve got some valuable resources up in Alasia. They mine silver, I’ve heard; and grow good tea and wheat; and of course there’s all the seafood and pearls too, what with them being surrounded on three sides by the ocean and all. But the best part is the glass. My neighbor’s son says nearly every house in Almar has glass windows. Rampus is going to give us access to all that and more!”
“We could have gotten access to those resources through trade!” spluttered Korram, beside himself with horror and disbelief. Actually, Malornian merchants already carried on trade with Alasia, though only on a small scale, due to the difficulty of crossing the wide river that separated the two kingdoms. Come to think of it, he couldn’t imagine how the regent had gotten thousands of soldiers across the Grenn, but that wasn’t the point.
“Alasia wasn’t going to attack us. Rampus made that up. How many innocent Alasians did he murder just to make himself look like a hero?”
Gelta stared at him. Jeskie gave him a warning nudge, but Korram ignored the boy.
“What are you talking about?” the woman demanded. “The regent is a hero! People are saying he’s sure to become the next king if Prince Korram doesn’t show up, and I hope so! This is the best thing that’s happened to Malorn since I don’t know when!”
Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3) Page 36
