“Nonsense,” Cain said, pointing to the field. “The tournaments offer the same thing and you have proven your courage and skill countless times, there is no need to wage war only to affirm the same thing.” The prince slapped Talorn on the back. “Have you turned into a war-monger since I’ve been gone?”
The knight gave him a halfhearted grin. “The two are not the same, my prince. The men you face on this field are only trying to beat you, not kill you. Death can only come by chance and only in rare cases. Without the fear of death, tournaments are just a game. Battle is the true test.”
Talorn took a deep breath. “Last year, I fought in some border skirmishes with the Abberdonians.”
Cain sat straight up. “Has King Havalon grown so bold he dared to cross into Bandara?”
“He has grown that bold, my prince, and with cause. The Bandaran army is not what it was when you left four years ago.”
Cain shook his head in contempt, knowing who was responsible for that.
Talorn continued. “That’s why my father had me lead a company of his personal knights against some of the Abberdonian light cavalry. We clashed with them on three separate occasions before we drove them back across the border. It has been the only time in my life I knew fear. Now the tournaments leave me unfulfilled. I yearn to lead an entire army into battle.” Talorn looked Cain directly in the eye. “I assure you, my friend, the tournament field and the battlefield are quite different. Once you’ve tasted the quickening of combat, tournaments become… insignificant.”
Cain took a deep breath and leaned back on the bench, stretching his already stiffening muscles; it had been too long since some of them had been used.
“I suppose you’re right, the two are different. At least you gave the Abberdonians a good taste of Bandaran steel. I’m sure it will be a long time before King Havalon attacks our border again.”
“I don’t think he will need to attack again,” Talorn said.
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The two men sat in silence for a moment. Talorn seemed nervous and that was odd for the young knight, he was usually very confident, almost to the point of being annoying. The prince decided to give his friend a moment; the knight was obviously wrestling with whatever he had to say.
“Cain, I am sorry to hear about your father. Bishop Lyfair told me at evening mass he thinks the king has only a short time left.”
Cain said nothing about Talorn’s abrupt jump to his father’s health.
“Yes, the healers told me he is getting worse by the day. It’s very upsetting to me that my father is dying, but—and I don’t mean this to sound harsh—it might not be a bad thing for Bandara.”
Talorn nodded and let out a long sigh. “That is what I wanted to speak with you about. I didn’t know how to approach the subject without giving offense.”
“You give offense? Talorn, we’re old friends. Speak your mind, I have always valued your opinion.”
“It’s not my opinion I want to give you, it's information. You haven’t been back long, so I don’t know what you’ve been told and what you haven’t.”
Cain leaned up in his seat. He was becoming very interested in what Talorn had to say. His spies inside the palace had little to report of late. It was very curious that Talorn had information he didn’t. Then again, Talorn’s father was first seat on his father’s council, making him the highest ranking noble in the kingdom, and Lord Blackthorn was known to be a crafty man. Cain was sure Blackthorn had several spies of his own lurking in the palace.
“I haven’t been told much of anything, just that Father is on his death bed and the kingdom is not doing well monetarily.”
Talorn gave an ironic chuckle.
“Not doing well? Then you know nothing of the military problem or the debt?”
Cain shook his head.
“What’s wrong with the army? No one has said anything to me, and I have heard nothing about a debt.”
The knight cleared his throat. “The kingdom is broke, my prince. The army has not been paid in months, and their morale gets worse by the day. In the last year alone, we have lost a quarter of our strength. Our military is what has kept kingdoms like Abberdon and Illair out of Bandara. Now that the army is losing its size and its will, we are being eyed by our neighbors like a new year’s goose. I fear that’s not the worst of it, my prince. Six months ago, your father borrowed two million gold crowns from the Abberdonians.”
Cain was stunned. How could his own father be so stupid? “We will simply give the gold back and tell Havalon we don’t need it.”
“The gold is gone already, spent paying servants and for the upkeep of the city. Bandara is bankrupt, my friend, and my father told me it will be only a matter of time until King Havalon presses for payment of the loan. On our honor as a sovereign state, we have to pay it back, if not in gold then Havalon will demand his payment in land, our northern holdings. It is what he has always wanted anyway.”
Cain felt sick. How could this have happened? His father should know that of all people, King Havalon couldn’t be trusted. The Abberdonians had disputed the northern border since Cain was a child.
Talorn brushed his yellow locks back from his noble face. “My father went to the king and begged him to raise the tax on the commoners and the merchants, so the money could be raised to settle the debt. The king refused, saying he would not have his people robbed to pay the debt. He demanded the nobles pay it from their coffers. You know what their answer was to that. They feel they aren’t getting their fair share now.”
Cain stood and leaned against the bench in front of him, squeezing it until his knuckles turned white.
“He has indebted us to Abberdon? He knows Havalon has always wanted Bandara. He would have invaded long ago if he felt he could win a war with us. Only the size of our army and Ansellus Fox kept them out. My father managed to anger General Fox until he went into self-imposed exile all those years ago, and his mishandling of the kingdom’s coin has weakened our military until our foes see us as a prize ripe for the taking. Now you tell me my father has seen fit to use part of the realm as collateral on a debt to that bastard Havalon? How do you borrow money from someone you know to be an enemy?” Cain said.
Cain bowed his head in shame. “My father is going to die and leave me with an empty treasury and enemies at my throat.” He grabbed Talorn by the shoulders and pulled him up to face him. “What the hell am I to do, Talorn? Will I be known as the king who lost Bandara?”
The knight gently pulled Cain’s hands from his shoulders. “Not if I can help it, Highness. My father and I have thought of a way we can help you, once you’re crowned, that is. Will you hear the proposition?”
“Of course. My father may be a fool, but I am not.”
Cain knew that the Blackthorns were one of the richest families in Bandara and possessed a small personal army, and William Blackthorn was a wolf in the council chamber, outwitting his political opponents time and time again. If anyone could find a way out of this mess, the old lord could.
Talorn put his arm around the prince’s shoulders and began to walk him away from the stables and any unwanted listeners.
“Well then, Highness, here is what my father and I were thinking. My father has more or less retired. He has given me control of Braxton Bluff and wants me to take his seat on the high council. He still gives me advice when I need it, but I am now the Lord of Southern Bandara. That puts me in a position to help you in more ways than one.”
“Why did William retire?” Cain asked.
The knight chuckled.
“He said he was getting too old and senile to run the council, and he wanted to enjoy the years he had left doing the things he liked to do. I believe his health is poor, although he denies it. Don’t worry, he plans to help us as much as we need him to.”
Cain nodded.
“Good. Not that I doubt your abilities, but your father is a wily old man and has more experience with this
kind of thing than both of us put together. So tell me what you and your father have devised.”
Talorn looked over his shoulder to make sure none of the squires or pages had followed them. One could never be too carful, many of the nobles of Bandara employed spies to keep them abreast of each other’s activities.
“First of all, I have a fortune at my disposal. I can pay the army and keep things going until you as king can levy the taxes Bandara needs to pay Abberdon.”
Cain shook his head. “What about Havalon? He does not want us to pay the gold back; he will attack if he sees we intend to settle the debt. It’s not the gold he wants, it’s the land, and if he attacks before we can pay, it will justify his invasion with the Church.” The prince pointed his finger at the young lord. “I will not give Havalon one ounce of Bandaran soil, Talorn, not one clod of dirt.”
“Calm down, my prince, we have thought of that. After you are king, you can get rid of General Voths. You know as well as I, he is an incompetent commander. Your father appointed him head of the Bandaran army because he told good stories at the state dinners. Voths cares more about what his aides are bringing him for lunch than he does about the condition of the army. Appoint me head of all the armies of Bandara. After the border skirmishes, Havalon knows my skill at arms. He also knows my father. It will make him think twice about using force to collect his debt. It will buy you time to collect what you need to repay Abberdon.”
Cain began to pace. “I like what you’re saying, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you are William Blackthorn’s son after all. What’s the price for you and your father’s help?”
Talorn grinned at Cain. “Just three small things, Highness, and they all are of benefit to you as well as us.
“First, I would like a royal charter to reestablish the Knights of Bandara, for my God, my king, and my country. They kept order along the Gold Road and throughout the realm, and they were a shining example of Bandaran honor in the days of the Phoenix Queen. I feel we need them now more than ever; they will set an example to all of the other kingdoms of what Bandara stands for.” Talorn said.
"Second, I would like you to make me first seat on the council. It will make me second only to you in power until you father your own heir, and by rights, I should have my father’s seat anyway. He has recommended me to the council already, so there should be no interference from the other council members on the matter.”
Cain looked at Talorn and raised an eyebrow. “You seem to have thought this through very thoroughly. What you ask, I can’t do until I’m crowned king, and that all depends on how long father holds on to his shameful life. This plan will also make me very unpopular with commoners. They will not like their taxes being raised or several other small changes I plan to make when I’m king.”
Talorn pointed his finger at the future king. “Isn’t it the need for popularity that has caused the problem in the first place?”
Cain smiled.
“You’re right, my friend, the kingdom must be put before a king’s vanity. A lesson my father must never have learned and the only one he taught me. I agree to your terms and will act on them as soon as my father has passed on and I’m crowned. God forgive me, but I hope it happens in time to save Bandara.”
The two turned around and started walking back toward the stables. Cain stopped and looked thoughtfully at Talorn. “Oh, you never told me what the third thing was you wanted.”
Talorn put his hand on the future king’s shoulder. “I wish to marry your sister.”
So soft were her steps, one could scarcely hear her as she padded down the hallway in her slippers. She loved the silk slippers; they had been a gift from her father last year. He had the royal seamstress sew the ankles of them with pearls and lace. They fit her small feet perfectly and they were as light and soft as a cloud.
It was not only her feet that were small. Princess Raygan was not much bigger than a child, standing just five feet tall. It wasn’t her diminutive height, though, that caused all the guards’ heads to turn as she passed them in the hallway. It was the tight silk robe she had on and the sway of her hips.
Raygan might have a girl’s height, but she had a woman’s figure. Large breasts, narrow waist, and the curve of her buttocks made even the most disciplined of the king’s guards stare. Beautiful dark brown hair fell past her shoulders to the middle of her back in waves of huge curls. Her eyes were big and blue as the sea. Her lips were full; her nose was small and perfect. She had the face of an angel; her looks were unequaled in the Kingdom of Bandara. And she knew it.
She carried the tray with her father’s breakfast on it low enough that the guards could see her ample cleavage. Before she left her room, Raygan had made sure that she left her robe open just enough for guardsmen to get a peek. Raygan loved the way men looked at her. In their eyes, she could see they wanted her, hungered for her. And she loved it.
She didn’t want to be with a man. Actually, even thinking about lying with a man frightened her. She had heard her servants talk about it several times and it sounded vile. She just wanted them to desire her, just knowing she could have anyone one of them she wanted satisfied her needs. Raygan intended to be the most beautiful and most charming woman in all of Bandara; she had desired it since she was a small child. The princess had worked on nothing else. The way she walked, the way she talked. Even as a young girl, she would sit in front of her mirror for hours practicing her most alluring looks and facial expressions. Raygan felt she had achieved a degree of charm unmatched by any other woman. The only man that didn’t believe she was the most enchanting creature he had ever met was her brother.
Cain had always been a bore as far as Raygan was concerned. Now that he had returned from Asqutania, he was an even bigger one. He was no fun at all. Raygan tried to love her brother; he just made it very hard for her to do. Cain had always been nasty to her. He tried to make her cry every chance he got. She didn’t like being around him. He didn’t submit to her demands and she had never been able to charm him. Always “blah-blah the throne this” and “blah-blah the throne that.” He gave her a headache. All he talked about was being king, and he had been that way as long as she could remember. Sometimes he was just plain mean to her, and she could never understand why.
With her father, it was different. She could blink her eyes, purse her lips and pout a little, and he would do anything for her. If she loved any man, it was definitely her father. King Aaron had never told his daughter no—at least not very often. “No” was a word she despised, when she was not the one saying it.
The princess turned down the hallway leading to the royal bedchamber. The walls were covered with old tapestries and paintings. Raygan thought that she should make a point of asking father if she could redecorate some of the palace hallways. They were just too dreary and dark. Every other painting in the hallway was of her mother. When she saw the portraits, they made her sad. Her mother was dead. Dead people were distressing. What was needed were paintings of living people, beautiful people. That would make things much more cheerful. She would have her maids start hanging some of her portraits in the halls tomorrow.
The two guards at her father’s door smiled at her and parted to let her through. She returned their smile, seeing that each one was looking directly at her breasts. Just as she reached the door, it opened. Bishop Marin Lyfair and Lord Selmac, the royal healer, stepped out of her father’s room. Raygan stopped and tilted her head slightly towards the men.
“Good morning, Your Eminence, Lord Selmac.”
They both looked at her and gave a slight bow. Then they walked away.
Lyfair stopped and turned. His cold blue eyes looked right into hers. “I hope you have a fine visit, Highness, but you should try to keep it short. Your father needs his rest. If there is something you need, please see me, and I will do my best to accommodate you.”
“I was just bringing my father his breakfast, Your Eminence, and as for my needs, I think Father can still see to them.”
/> Lyfair gave a slight bow. “As you wish, Highness, I was just trying to make things easier for your father.”
Raygan gave her fake princess smile and opened her father’s door. Lyfair was another man who had never looked at her with any desire, and she was glad of it. She didn’t like Lyfair, or Selmac for that matter. Lyfair made her skin crawl and Selmac was very odd and smelled funny.
The cups and plates rattled on the tray as she closed the door. Her father turned his head and seeing it was her, he smiled weakly.
“My beautiful dove has brought me breakfast.”
He looked better today—or was she just telling herself that, not wanting to believe how sick he truly was?
He was sitting up in his huge canopy bed. His thin gray hair was a mess, but the color of his skin was not as pallid as it was yesterday. Her father had once been a very handsome man. In the last few years, he had grown heavy from all he ate and drank, and then the sickness had stolen away what was left of his good looks. The only thing the illness had spared were his beautiful eyes.
“You need light in here,” Raygan said.
The princess set the tray down on the table near the foot of her father’s bed. She walked across the room and pulled open the massive drapes that covered the king’s window. The sun instantly lit up the room, shining through the windows like a radiant spear. The princess’s lips tightened as she saw the large amount of dust motes flitting around in the rays of sunlight.
“I told your servants I wanted theses windows open and this room cleaned. They have gotten lazy since you’ve been sick.”
It took almost all the strength the petite girl had to push open the gigantic windows of the king’s bedchamber. Once they were open, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her father’s room smelled of disease. The fresh air would do them both some good.
The king shielded his eyes. The sun was bright for someone that stayed closed up in a dark room day in and day out.
“Lord Selmac told the servants to keep those shut. Finn said it was not good for my breathing,” the king said, squinting.
DAWN OF THE PHOENIX Page 4
