When given the rank of Senior Squire, Jimmy had thought it would be all privilege and no responsibility. He had been quickly disabused of that notion. An integral part of the court, albeit a minor one, he was, when he failed his duty, confronted by the single most important fact known to all bureaucrats of any nation or epoch: those above were not interested in excuses, only in results. Jimmy lived and died with every mistake made by the squires. So far, it had not been a good year for Jimmy.
With measured steps and rustling red and black robes of office, the tall, dignified Master of Ceremonies crossed to stand behind Jimmy, technically his first assistant after the Steward of the Royal Household, but most often his biggest problem. Flanking Master deLacy were two purple-and-yellow-uniformed court pages, commoners’ sons who would grow up to be servants in the palace, unlike the squires who would some day be among the rulers of the Western Realm. Master deLacy absently tapped his iron-shod staff of office on the floor and said, ‘Just beat me in again, did you, Squire James’?
Keeping a straight face, despite the stifled laughter coming from some of the boys in the back ranks, Jimmy said, ‘Everyone is accounted for, Master deLacy. Squire Jerome is in his quarters, excused for injury.’
With weary resignation in his voice, deLacy said, ‘Yes, I heard of your little disagreement on the playing field yesterday. I think we’ll not dwell on your constant difficulties with Jerome. I’ve had another note from his father. I think in future I’ll simply pass these notes to you.’ Jimmy tried to look innocent and failed. ‘Now, before I go over the day’s assignments, I feel it appropriate to point out one fact: you are expected, at all times, to behave as young gentlemen. Toward this cause, I think it also appropriate to discourage a newly emerging trend, namely, wagering upon the outcome of barrel-ball matches played on Sixthday. Do I make myself clear?’ The question seemed to be addressed to the assembled squires, but deLacy’s hand fell upon Jimmy’s shoulder at that moment. ‘From this day forward, no more wagering, unless it’s something honourable, such as horses, of course. Make no mistake, that is an order.’
All the squires muttered acknowledgement. Jimmy nodded solemnly, secretly relieved he had already placed the bet on that afternoon’s match. So much interest among the staff and minor nobility had arisen over this game that Jimmy had been frantically trying to discover a way he could charge admission. There might be a high price to pay should Master deLacy discover Jimmy had already bet on the match, but Jimmy felt honour had been satisfied. DeLacy had said nothing about existing wagers.
Master deLacy quickly went over the schedule prepared the night before by Jimmy. Whatever complaint the Master of Ceremonies might have with his Senior Squire, he had none with the boy’s work. Whatever task Jimmy undertook he did well; getting him to undertake the task was usually the problem. When the morning duty was assigned, deLacy said, ‘At fifteen minutes before the second hour after noon, assemble on the palace steps, for at two hours after noon, Prince Arutha and his court will arrive for the Presentation. As soon as the ceremony is complete you are excused duty for the rest of the day, so those of you with families here will be free to stay with them. However, two of you will be required to stand ready with the Prince’s family and guests. I’ve selected Squires Locklear and James to serve that duty. You two will go at once to Earl Volney’s office and put yourselves at his disposal. That will be all.’
Jimmy stood frozen in chagrined silence for a long moment while deLacy left and the company of Squires broke up. Locklear ambled over to stand before Jimmy and said with a shrug, ‘Well, aren’t we the lucky ones? Everyone else gets to run around and eat, drink, and’ – he threw a sidelong glance at Jimmy and grinned – ‘kiss girls. And we’ve got to stick close to Their Highnesses.’
‘I’ll kill him,’ said Jimmy, venting his displeasure.
Locklear shook his head. ‘Jerome?’
‘Who else?’ Jimmy motioned for his friend to fall in as he walked away from the hall. ‘He told deLacy about the betting. He’s paying me back for that black eye I gave him yesterday.’
Locklear sighed in resignation. ‘We don’t stand a chance of beating Thom and Jason and the other apprentices today, with us both not playing.’ Locklear and Jimmy were the two best athletes in the company of squires. Nearly as quick as Jimmy, Locklear was second only to him among the squires in swordsmanship. Together they were the two best ball handlers in the palace, and with both out of the match, it was a near certain victory for the apprentices. ‘How much did you bet?’
‘All of it,’ answered Jimmy. Locklear winced. The squires had been pooling their silver and gold for months in anticipation of this match. ‘Well, how was I to know deLacy would pull this business? Besides, with all those losses we’ve had, I got five-to-two odds in favour of the apprentices.’ He had spent months developing a losing trend in the squires’ game, setting up this big wager. He considered. ‘We may not be out of it yet. I’ll think of something.’
Changing the subject, Locklear said, ‘You just cut it a little fine today. What held you up this time?’
Jimmy grinned, his features losing their dark aspect. ‘I was talking to Marianna.’ Then his features returned to an expression of disgust. ‘She was going to meet me after the game, but now we’ll be with the Prince and Princess.’ Accompanying his growth since last summer, another change in Jimmy had been his discovery of girls. Suddenly their company and good opinion of him were vital. Given his upbringing and knowledge, especially compared to those of the other squires in court, Jimmy was worldly beyond his years. The former thief had been making his presence known among the younger serving girls of the palace for several months. Marianna was simply the most recent to catch his fancy and be swept off her feet by the clever, witty and handsome young squire. Jimmy’s curly brown hair, ready grin, and flashing dark eyes had caused him to become an object of concern for more than one girl’s parents among the palace staff.
Locklear attempted to look uninterested, a pose that was quickly eroding as he himself became more often the focus of the palace girls’ attention. He was getting taller by the week, it seemed, almost as tall as Jimmy now. His wavy, blond-streaked brown hair and cornflower-blue eyes framed by almost feminine lashes, his handsome smile, and his friendly, easy manner had all made him popular with the younger girls of the palace. He hadn’t grown quite comfortable with the idea of girls yet, as at home he had only brothers, but being around Jimmy had already convinced him there was more to girls than he had thought back at Land’s End. ‘Well,’ Locklear said, picking up the pace of their walking, ‘if deLacy doesn’t find a reason to chuck you out of service, or Jerome doesn’t have you beaten by town roughs, some jealous kitchen boy or angry father’s likely to comb your hair with a cleaver. But none of them will have a prayer if we’re late to the chancery – because Earl Volney will have our heads on pikes. Come on.’
With a laugh and an elbow to the ribs, Locklear was off, with Jimmy a step behind as they ran down the halls. One old servant looked up from his dusting to watch the boys racing along and for a moment reflected on the magic of youth. Then, resigned to the effects of time’s passage, he returned to the duties at hand.
The crowd cheered as the heralds began their march down the steps of the palace. They cheered, in part, because they would now be addressed by their Prince who, while somewhat aloof, was well respected and counted evenhanded with justice. They cheered, in part, because they would see the Princess whom they loved. She was a symbol of continuation of an old line, a link from the past to the future. But most of all they cheered because they were among the lucky citizens not of the nobility who would be allowed to eat from the Prince’s larder and to drink from his wine cellar.
The Festival of Presentation was conducted thirty days following the birth of any member of the royal family. How it began remained a mystery, but it was commonly held that the ancient rulers of the city-state of Rillanon were required to show the people, of every rank and station, that the heirs to th
e throne were born without flaw. Now it was a welcome holiday to the people, for it was as if an extra Midsummer’s festival had been granted.
Those guilty of misdemeanours were pardoned; matters of honour were considered resolved and duelling was forbidden for a week and a day following the Presentation; all debts owing since the last Presentation – Princess Anita’s nineteen years ago – were forgiven; and for the afternoon and evening, rank was put aside as commoner and noble ate from the same table.
As Jimmy took his place behind the heralds, he realized that someone always had to work. Someone had to prepare all the food being served today, and someone had to clean up tonight. And he had to stand ready to serve Arutha and Anita should they require it. Sighing to himself, he considered again the responsibilities that seemed to find him no matter where he hid.
Locklear hummed softly to himself while the heralds continued to take up position, followed by members of Arutha’s Household Guard. The arrival of Gardan, Knight-Marshal of Krondor, and Earl Volney, acting Principate Chancellor, indicated the ceremonies were about to begin.
The grey-haired soldier, his black face set in an amused expression, nodded to the portly Chancellor, then signalled to Master deLacy to begin. The Master of Ceremonies’ staff struck the ground and the trumpeters and drummers sounded ruffles and flourishes. The crowd hushed as the Master of Ceremonies struck the ground again, and a herald cried, ‘Hearken to me! Hearken to me! His Highness, Arutha conDoin, Prince of Krondor, Lord of the Western Realm, Heir to the throne of Rillanon.’ The crowd cheered, though it was more for form than out of any genuine enthusiasm. Arutha was the sort of man who inspired deep respect and admiration, not affection, in the populace.
A tall, rangy, dark-haired man entered, dressed in muted brown clothing of fine weave, his shoulders covered with the red mantle of his office. He paused, his brown eyes narrow, while the herald announced the Princess. When the slender, red-headed Princess of Krondor joined her husband, the merry glint in her green eyes caused him to smile, and the crowd began to cheer in earnest. Here was their beloved Anita, daughter of Arutha’s predecessor, Erland.
While the actual ceremony would be quickly over, the introduction of nobles took a great deal longer. A cadre of palace nobles and guests was entitled to public presentation. The first pair of these was announced. ‘Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Salador.’
A handsome, blond man offered his arm to a dark-haired woman. Laurie, former minstrel and traveller, now Duke of Salador and husband to Princess Carline, escorted his beautiful wife to her brother’s side. They had arrived in Krondor a week before, to see their nephews, and would stay another week.
On and on droned the herald as other members of the nobility were introduced and, finally, visiting dignitaries, including the Keshian Ambassador. Lord Hazara-Khan entered with only four bodyguards, forgoing the usual Keshian pomp. The Ambassador was dressed in the style of the desert men of the Jal-Pur: cloth head cover that left only the eyes exposed, long robe of indigo over white tunic and trousers tucked into calf-high black boots. The bodyguards were garbed from head to toe in black.
Then deLacy stepped forward and called, ‘Let the populace approach.’ Several hundred men and women of varying rank, from the poorest beggar to the richest commoner, gathered below the steps of the palace.
Arutha spoke the ritual words of the Presentation. ‘Today is the three hundred tenth day of the second year of the reign of our Lord King, Lyam the First. Today we present our sons.’
DeLacy struck his staff upon the ground and the herald cried out, ‘Their Royal Highnesses, the Princes Borric and Erland.’ The crowd erupted into a near-frenzy of shouts and cheers as the twin sons of Arutha and Anita, born a month before, were publicly presented for the first time. The nurse selected to care for the boys came forward and gave her charges over to their mother and father. Arutha took Borric, named for his father, while Anita took her own father’s namesake. Both babies endured the public showing with good grace, though Erland showed signs of becoming fussy. The crowd continued to cheer, even after Arutha and Anita had returned their sons to the care of the nurse. Arutha graced those gathered below the steps with another rare smile. ‘My sons are well and strong, they are born without flaw. They are fit to rule. Do you accept them as sons of the royal house?’ The crowd shouted its approbation. Anita reflected her husband’s smile. Arutha waved to the crowd. ‘Our thanks, good people. Until the feasting, I bid you all good day.’
The ceremony was over. Jimmy hurried to Arutha’s side, as was his duty, while Locklear moved to Anita’s side. Locklear was formally a junior squire, but he was so often given duty with the Princess that he was commonly considered her personal squire. Jimmy suspected deLacy of wanting to keep himself and Locklear together so watching them would be that much easier. The Prince threw Jimmy a distracted half-smile as he watched his wife and sister fuss over the twins. The Keshian Ambassador had removed his traditional face covering and was smiling at the sight. His four bodyguards hovered close.
‘Your Highnesses,’ said the Keshian, ‘are thrice blessed. Healthy babies are a gift of the gods. And they are sons. And two of them.’
Arutha basked in the glow of his wife, who looked radiant as she regarded her sons in the nurse’s arms. ‘I thank you, my Lord Hazara-Khan. It is an unexpected benefit having you with us this year.’
‘The weather in Durbin is beastly this year,’ he said absently as he began to make faces at little Borric. He suddenly remembered his station and more formally said, ‘Besides, your Highness, we have a minor matter to finish discussing regarding the new border here in the West.’
Arutha laughed. ‘With you, my dear Abdur, minor details become major concerns. I have little love for the prospect of facing you across the negotiating table again. Still, I’ll pass along any suggestions you make to His Majesty.’
The Keshian bowed and said, ‘I wait upon Your Highness’s pleasure.’
Arutha seemed to notice the guards. ‘I don’t see your sons or Lord Daoud-Khan in attendance.’
‘They conduct the business I would normally oversee among my people in the Jal-Pur.’
‘These?’ said Arutha, indicating the four bodyguards. Each was dressed entirely in jet, even to the scabbards of their scimitars, and while their costuming was similar to that of the desert men, it was different from anything Arutha had seen of Keshians.
‘These are izmalis, Highness. They serve as personal protection, nothing more.’
Arutha chose to say nothing as the knot of people around the babies seemed about to break up. The izmalis were famous as bodyguards, the finest protection available to the nobility of the Empire of Great Kesh, but rumour had it they were also highly trained spies and, occasionally, assassins. Their abilities were nearly legendary. They were reputed to be everything just short of ghosts in their ability to come and go undetected. Arutha disliked having men only one step away from assassins within his walls, but Abdur was entitled to his personal retinue, and Arutha judged it unlikely the Keshian Ambassador would bring anyone into Krondor who might be dangerous to the Kingdom. Besides himself, Arutha added silently.
‘We shall also need to speak of the latest request from Queg regarding docking rights in Kingdom ports,’ said Lord Hazara-Khan.
Arutha looked openly amazed. Then his expression changed to one of irritation. ‘I suppose a passing fisherman or sailor just mentioned it to you as you disembarked at the harbour?’
‘Highness, Kesh has friends in many places,’ answered the Ambassador with an ingratiating smile.
‘Well, it will certainly do no good to comment on Kesh’s Imperial Intelligence Corps, for we both know that’ – Hazara-Khan joined in and they both spoke in unison – ‘no such group exists.’
Abdur Rachman Memo Hazara-Khan bowed and said, ‘With Your Highness’s kind permission?’
Arutha bowed slightly as the Keshian made his farewell, then turned to Jimmy. ‘What? You two scoundrels drew duty today?’
Jimmy shrugged, indicating it wasn’t his idea. Arutha noticed his wife instructing the nurse to return the twins to their nursery. ‘Well, you must have done something to warrant deLacy’s displeasure. Still, we can’t have you missing all the fun. I understand there’s supposed to be a particularly good barrel-ball game later this afternoon.’
Jimmy feigned surprise, while Locklear’s face lit up. ‘I think so,’ said Jimmy noncommittally.
Motioning the boys to follow as the Prince’s party began to head inside, Arutha said, ‘Well then, we’ll have to drop in and see how it goes, won’t we?’
Jimmy winked at Locklear. Then Arutha said, ‘Besides, if you boys lose that bet, your skins won’t be worth a tanner’s trouble by the time the other squires get through with you.’
Jimmy said nothing while they moved toward the great hall and the reception for the nobles before the commoners were admitted to the feast in the courtyard. Then he whispered to Locklear, ‘That man has an irritating habit of always knowing what’s going on around here.’
The celebration was in full swing, nobles mingling with those commoners granted admission to the palace courtyard. Long tables stood heavily laden with food and drink, and for many in attendance this was the finest meal they would eat this year. While formality was forgotten, the commoners were still deferential to Arutha and his party, bowing slightly and using formal address. Jimmy and Locklear hovered nearby, in case they were needed.
Carline and Laurie walked arm in arm behind Arutha and Anita. Since their own wedding, the new Duke and Duchess of Salador had settled down somewhat, in contrast to their well-reported and stormy romance at the King’s court. Anita turned toward her sister-in-law and said, ‘I’m pleased you could stay this long. It’s so much a man’s palace here in Krondor. And now with two boys…’
The Riftwar Saga Trilogy: Magician, Silverthorn and A Darkness at Sethanon Page 132
