Nor was King Tedric's health much stronger, and the assassination attempt—though apparently directed at members of Allister's own household—had not made for a relaxing visit.
Someday, Allister thought, I will look back upon these unsettled times and smile at my fussing.
And now that the foreigners had left, King Allister had no doubt that the internal kingdom politicking would begin in force. He'd already had numerous private requests for favors. This morning would be the first time those claims could be pressed in public.
When the Hawk Haven party had been seen off with due pomp and circumstance, Allister proceeded to the Sphere Chamber. The room was cleaned now—all but the white carpet, which had defied all attempts to remove the bloodstain.
With a glow of the same inspiration that had made her a good household manager for a duke with no duchy, Pearl had insisted that when the carpet was dry it be rolled and stored in the main treasure vault to be brought out on the anniversary of the attempt as a reminder "of the blood spilled to make this kingdom strong."
Never mind that much of the blood belonged to the assassins—the symbolism was good.
The Sphere Chamber had been remodeled into its usual business mode. Ornate carved screens divided the rounded central dais into two halves. Behind the screens, clerks and secretaries could do their tasks without impeding majesty. In front, an imposing but surprisingly comfortable throne had been placed for Allister along with several good—but definitively not throne-like—chairs for Pearl, Shad, and Sapphire should they choose to attend morning business.
Pearl would not. She had told Allister that she had her hands full doing a steward's job—in this case finding permanent replacements for the staff Valora had taken with her. Those servants hired in preparation for the wedding now wanted their positions—and wages—formalized. Those borrowed needed to be returned.
The servants from Pearl and Allister's former household could fill only so many positions at the royal castle—most were needed to maintain their former estate. Allister was not giving up the place, modest as it might seem by the family's current standard of living.
At the very least, the estate could provide an inheritance for Tavis or one of the twins. Pearl might need it as a dower house if Allister predeceased her. He had no illusions that Sapphire might prove a difficult daughter-in-law. In a worst-case scenario, he might need it as a retreat himself.
As today was the first return to business as usual since the wedding, King Allister did not expect a quiet day. Still, he was somewhat surprised at the number of people waiting in the seats fronting the dais. This would almost certainly mean his afternoon would be filled with private appointments, for not everyone would want to discuss their business in front of a crowd.
Swallowing a nostalgic sigh for those days when he could count on hours to himself for reading or riding about his lands—or even playing with the children—King Allister mounted to his throne. As he had expected, both Shad and Sapphire joined him. He was pleased they were looking so well. When he had seen them first placed in the makeshift infirmary, pale from pain and loss of blood, he had dreaded that neither would survive.
A former undersecretary of Queen Gustin IV, promoted to Chief Court Clerk because of his familiarity with Bright Bay's royal rituals, made the usual announcements and then came to the king's side.
Although Allister had no plans to dispense with the services of the woman who had been his personal secretary for many years, he thought he could have done worse than this young man. A junior scion of House Seal—something like the second son of the current duchess's youngest sister—he did not even bear a title.
His given name was Bevan, a frequent appellation in that particular house; however, he had asked the king to call him "Calico," a nickname he had been given because of several large brown birthmarks that spread unattractively over his face and hands—and for all the king knew, over other parts of his body as well. Allister admired Calico's courage in embracing his deformity rather than attempting to deny it. It spoke well for his ability to see things as they were.
Bowing to the king and his heirs with just the right degree of deference, Calico said, his tone pitched for their ears alone:
"Grand Duchess Seastar Seagleam has requested the first audience. She is not here yet, so should I move to the next order of business?"
Allister thought for a moment. He knew his aunt. She would take offense at being skipped, even if the fault was her own. Gustin III's younger sister was rather sensitive about being passed over. She might even have timed her arrival specifically in order to create a scene.
"Let us give the grand duchess a moment more. Hand me a stack of papers and send a runner you can trust to be discreet to learn if she is on her way."
They had barely begun this subterfuge when the grand duchess, accompanied by her son, Dillon, swept into the Sphere Chamber.
So she did hope to cause a scene, Allister thought. A point to the navy, rather than the pirates.
He perused the documents and then gestured Calico to him.
"I believe you may begin the regular order of business now," the king said, permitting his clerk to see just a hint of a smile.
Calico remained the soul of perfect decorum as he moved to the desk set to one side of the dais.
"King Allister of the Pledge," he announced in a booming voice that hinted at herald's training in his past, "is pleased to recognize the Grand Duchess Seastar Seagleam."
Seastar Seagleam was about the same age as King Tedric and, like him, she showed her years. Those years had marked her in a different fashion. Where Tedric was a bent old eagle, she possessed an upright, if stiff, posture. The grand duchess's wrinkled skin was powdered, giving it a translucent glow. Like many of her age and generation, she wore a wig, but it was not tinted to make her appear younger. She wore the white of age with a dignity that made it seem a crown.
She rose with grace rather than speed and swept up to the dais, eschewing her usual cane of carved rosewood for her son's arm.
A good move that, the king thought. It permits her to bring Dillon to the fore without my express permission.
Lord Dillon Pelican—unlike Allister himself before his coronation, he bore his father's name rather than his royal-born mother's—handed his mother onto the dais and took one of the seats left empty in the front row of petitioners.
Grand Duchess Seastar had remained at Revelation Point Castle when most of the guests departed. Allister had no illusions that she had done so out of loyalty to himself or belief in his dreams. Indeed, for many years, while Gustin III had remained childless, the grand duchess had imagined that she herself or one of her sons would ascend to the throne of Bright Bay.
Valora's birth comparatively late in her father's reign had not immediately dashed Seastar's hopes. Children do die, or are awarded regents if they take the throne at too young an age.
Only when Valora had assumed the throne did Seastar swallow her dreams, and by all reports that had been a bitter draught. Now, with the restructuring of Bright Bay, her ambitions had awakened again. Her son Culver had borne the title Crown Prince—though no one but his mother had expected he had a chance for the throne. Valora was young and healthy and would certainly bear an heir. Indeed, Culver himself had done little agitating for power. He was a strong sailor and had gone from a respectable career in the navy to captaining a merchant vessel.
Allister rather liked his cousin Culver, but he was less certain about Dillon. Dillon had all his mother's ambition and little of his brother's drive. He also possessed good political sense—a potentially dangerous trait, for it meant he could see his own advantage and would be willing to be used by others.
All of this sped through Allister's thoughts in the time it took for Grand Duchess Seastar to progress to the dais and make her deep curtsy to the throne.
"Nephew," she began, and Allister knew she used the title to remind any who might forget her relation to the throne, "in a few days' time you will be
departing Bright Bay to attend Crown Prince Shad's second wedding in Hawk Haven."
She managed to say "second wedding" with an intonation that made the affair seem vaguely scandalous. From the corner of his eye, Allister saw Sapphire bristle slightly—perhaps believing herself safe since the grand duchess was turned in such a way that she could not see how her barb had hit home. Dillon was watching, though, and he would report.
I must find a tactful way to speak to Sapphire about hiding her reactions. They run too close to the surface and, whether likes or dislikes, they can be used against her—and against my son.
"That is so," Allister replied mildly.
"And when you depart, your heir apparent will depart with you."
"He must," Allister said, managing to time his words so they were not quite an interruption, "as it is his wedding."
There was a light flutter of laughter at this, enough to discommode the grand duchess for a breath's pause.
The king reflected, Doubtless she was about to say something such as "and the Princess Sapphire will also be gone," underlining the absence of those in immediate line for the throne. I think I see where she is heading. Unhappily, she is in for a shock.
Old hand at politics that she was, Grand Duchess Seastar regained her poise without much difficulty. She had grown accustomed to Allister's self-effacing manner when he was merely Allister Seagleam. The twenty-some days that had passed since his formal coronation had not been enough to reeducate her, but the king had no doubt she would not forget again.
"With you and your heirs away not only from the capitol but from the kingdom," the old lady continued, "the question has arisen as to who will hold the reins in your absence."
"I thank you, Grand Duchess Seastar," Allister replied, carefully not omitting her title, "for raising a matter that I had planned on addressing myself. In my absence, I have appointed two of Bright Bay's nobles to act as joint regents."
Seastar frowned slightly. She had heard nothing of this, but then Allister had sworn the parties concerned to absolute silence—a thing they were more than willing to do given the favor he was showing them.
"Duke Dolphin and Earle Oyster will act as regents in my place. I had thought to ask my father-in-law, Duke Oyster, to act as regent, but he begged for permission to travel to his grandson's wedding—a return of the courtesy that so many of Hawk Haven's noble houses accorded us by sending their representatives here."
That stung! Allister thought, smothering a certain boyish glee. Aunt Seastar never offered to make the journey to Hawk Haven herself, nor even to send either Dillon or Culver. She was too eager to have them here to profit from my absence to realize that she was acting less than the great lady she wishes to be thought.
"Duke Dolphin has graciously agreed to send his wife and heir to the festivities in his stead. Although he is not a young man, his health is unquestioned and with Earle Oyster as his deputy, he will have someone on hand should pirate trouble arise."
By common euphemism any naval trouble was assigned to pirates, though many times it had its inception in Waterland or other, more distant, sea powers. It beat declaring war.
And I expect that when good sailing weather comes again, Allister thought, Valora's fleet will add to the number of "pirates" combing the waters.
Grand Duchess Seastar, who had clearly meant to gracefully offer herself or her son as regent, recovered with a swiftness that did her credit.
"Your thoughtfulness in this important matter," she said with a somewhat forced smile, "is appreciated. Having heard no announcement of the regency, I had mistakenly supposed that the excitement of Crown Prince Shad's wedding had driven such relatively distant matters from your mind."
Allister gave her a gracious nod, resisting the automatic impulse to bow to her as he had all his life.
"I had intended to make the announcement tomorrow. Today was filled enough with the departure of our fellow monarchs. Still, I thank you from the depths of my heart for your concern for the safety and stability of our realm."
The grand duchess dipped a curtsy and took her leave. As Calico called the next order of business—a report from the Illustrious Commissioner who had charge of roads—King Allister mused:
Well, Aunt Seastar's going to be upset, but even so she cannot blame me. Oyster has been my firmest support from the start and Dolphin is still eager to repay Gustin's lineage for the insult Gustin III gave their house by divorcing Lady Brina. As fine as Grand Duchess Seastar's titles are, I must conciliate my Great Houses before worrying about lesser nobles.
Then he turned his full attention to the road commissioner's report. This particular commissioner was of Lobster blood, if he recalled correctly. Her house had been the most fragmented by the recent upheavals and clearly she was making certain that her new king would have no doubts where her loyalties lay—with Bright Bay, which had entrusted her with care of its central road network. If Allister was careful and courteous, he could turn that abstract loyalty into one to himself, personally.
Allister leaned forward slightly to demonstrate his attention, took a few notes, smiled at a particularly salient point.
Shad and Sapphire sat side by side, also listening. Their expressions were set but attentive, their fingers—off where they thought them hidden from sight—were discreetly intertwined.
Like Earl Kestrel, Baron Ivon Archer had seen a distinct advantage to departing Silver Whale Cove in order to travel with King Tedric's party. Like Earl Kestrel, he could make himself visibly useful to his monarch—a silent reminder that he had remained when others had used the threat of assassins to flee.
Elise had to swallow an unladylike grin when she thought just what Aurella Wellward might have said if her husband had tried to leave. Lady Aurella was devoted to her aunt, the queen, and had done her best on the long journey out to ease the strains of the road. Even so, Queen Elexa had been worn to—not a shadow, Elise thought, shadows were too dark—more to a thin, silvery-grey wisp of spiderweb shaped in the form of a woman.
The journey out had taken six days and Elise was willing to wager—had there been any takers—that the return trip would take at least seven. King Tedric was taking no chances with his wife's health, especially as she would need to preside at the second wedding almost as soon as they returned.
Since Silver Whale Cove was on the innermost tip of the deep bay from which the kingdom took its name, the Hawk Haven group began their journey well west of the ocean. They headed north, following roads that would eventually take them to the border between the countries. There they would cross from Bright Bay into Broadview, a thriving town built at the confluence of the Barren and Flin rivers.
Broadview and her Bright Bay sister city, Rock Fort, took advantage of the trade that came down along both rivers from the interior of Hawk Haven on its way to that kingdom's one port. There was no bridge such as spanned the Barren between the twin towns of Hope and Good Crossings farther west. Here the Barren, fed by the waters of its sister river, was too wide and too swift.
Nor had Broadview become the center for illicit trade that its western sisters were. The very width of the river made such goings-on less profitable, although far more wealth, measured in the most basic terms, went through this point.
Another factor limiting smuggling in the vicinity of Broadview was that both kingdoms maintained large garrisons in the area. Before the peace Bright Bay had often tried to take advantage of the rich cargoes shipped toward the ocean from the city. Needless to say, Hawk Haven had taken steps to prevent them from easily doing so.
Now in peace both forces remained, reassigned to the difficult tasks of taxing legal trade and of preventing the growth of illegal trade. Already entrepreneurs were establishing regular ferry service across the river. As the tricky currents were beyond even the skills of the average citizen of Bright Bay—all of whom claimed they could sail as easily as they could walk—these new businesses were doing quite well.
Elise Archer was rather pleased when she a
nticipated a journey of six or seven days. Although not a greatly experienced traveler, she was young enough that the hardships of the road didn't bother her greatly. Just a few moonspans before, during the negotiations that had led to King Allister's War and through the war itself, she had lived in a tent. Now, enough weeks had passed that she was rested and nostalgic about the relative freedom of those days.
Even the increasingly cool nights didn't trouble her. The pavilion she shared with her parents and Ninette was floored with thick carpets and her own cot was supplied with a generous heap of blankets. The daytime weather was a gift from the ancestors—bright and clear and relatively warm, presented, all agreed, as a reward to the elderly king and queen for their courage in making a journey to further peace.
Before their departure from Hawk Haven, Baron Archer had presented his daughter with a fine riding horse, a substitute for the gentle white palfrey that had been her more usual mount. Elise, never much of a horsewoman, had taken over that palfrey from her mother; now she passed it on to Ninette.
Elise's new mount was younger and more spirited, but not so spirited as to challenge Elise's riding skills. Instead she—the horse was a mare—was a bit of a flirt, given to tossing her head and stomping a forehoof. Taking a cue from Lady Melina Shield, who had always made certain her children's mounts were fashion accessories as well as mere transportation, Baron Archer had sought a steed who would accent his daughter's fair-haired loveliness.
Cream Delight possessed a coat of deep, shimmering gold, but her abundant mane and high-set, flowing tail were silvery white. Her head was delicate and pretty; her gaits were easy and, even at a trot, surprisingly smooth. In short, she was the perfect mount for a young lady of quality who needed to look good almost more than she needed to travel.
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