His situation was becoming increasingly precarious when Egmar staged the naming ceremony for his son and heir.
When it was over, and the celebrations and feasting finished, the guests drifted back to their own estates and provinces. Segga was one of the last to leave, having been invited by the king to remain for a few days as his personal guest in the royal compound itself.
Shansi found his presence disturbing and did her best to avoid him, but the day before he was due to leave, her curiosity got the better of her and she summoned him to her chamber. She referred to the naming ceremony and his remark about Morvina; she asked him what he had meant by it.
He shrugged, and told her that in his opinion Morvina was the single most dangerous person in the kingdom because Egmar, and now Chaldez, stood between the throne of Sair Jisenner and her son, Sigmar.
Shansi was astonished. She objected that Sigmar was not interested in the Sairish throne, being preoccupied by his conquests in Laifya.
It was now Segga's turn to look surprised. "Have you not heard?" he asked her. "Sigmar has met with defeat"
At first Shansi could not bring herself to believe such a thing, but Segga insisted that his information was reliable. She asked if Sigmar would not recover; was it not just a temporary set-back? Segga shook his head; he was certain that the prince was about to be defeated utterly. The rhanese of Laifya, he said, had formed a powerful coalition, and would pursue him until he was crushed. His only hope then would be flight - flight to Felewith, where Morvina would be waiting for him. She would like nothing better, he added, than to be waiting for him with the crown.
Shansi stared at him in horror. She had come to depend upon Sigmar keeping himself occupied, and his mother happy, with conquests far from the borders of her husband's kingdom. Now all her comfortable security was gone, like sand blown off a rock.
She began, hesitantly, to tell Segga of the terror Morvina had inspired in her. She told him about Reela, who had died so mysteriously, and she told him about the conversation she had overheard between Morvina and Ghouzene.
He asked her if she had not spoken to Egmar about her fears, and as she told him about his absolute refusal to take any notice of them, tears welled up in her eyes and coursed down her pale cheeks. Segga made as though to pull her towards him, but she pushed him gently away. It was, however, a half-hearted gesture, and in another moment she was in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her to him, kissing the top of her head. Abruptly she regained control, and shrugged free. Holding the tops of her arms, he peered into her face and implored her to promise him that she would seek his help and protection the moment she considered herself, Chaldez or Egmar to be in danger of their lives. She nodded, and sniffed loudly. He reached for her hand and kissed it swiftly, causing her heart to thump so loudly she thought he must hear it; and that made her blush.
"Forgive me," he said, thinking it was the kiss that had embarrassed her, "but you must know you have bewitched me. My reason is vanquished. I am in your power."
"My dear Segga!" exclaimed Shansi, laughing, the tension gone. "How earnest you look! But I assure you I am innocent. If I had the power to cast spells I would use it on the king and make him send Morvina to trouble people far from here. I have opened my heart to you; it is I who am in your power."
Segga smiled ruefully. "Then we are in each other's!"
They talked for a while. Shansi told him about her childhood in Kroya and her friends Lewvin and Pemmel whom she had succeeded in bringing to the royal compound. Segga was impressed. And in his turn he told her about his province of Istin which, he said, lay beyond the eastern marches of her husband's realm. His overlord was the powerful king of Eujinni, a just man, and much respected by subjects and client-lords alike. Then he looked at her earnestly and implored her to eat and drink nothing that had not previously been tasted in her presence. She agreed. And lastly he advised her to try to keep in touch with events in Laifya.
When the last remaining guests had finally left Felewith, Shansi suggested to Egmar that she and Chaldez should return to Fromond.
"You can go," he said, "but you'll not take Chaldez with you." Then he accused her of continuing to harbour unfounded suspicions concerning Morvina.
Over the next weeks the news coming out of Laifya was of unremitting disaster for Sigmar, and Shansi knew that for her and Egmar and their baby it signalled growing peril.
Egmar, it transpired, had a surprise in store. Summoning her, he announced that she and Chaldez would be able to leave Felewith after all. He had decided, he went on, to take them with him on a tour of the northern province of Sembfrid.
Noting Shansi's astonishment, he patiently explained that during the last years of his father's reign the kingdom had been troubled by the attempted incursions of a certain neighbouring ruler. By coincidence, this man and King Volkis had died in the same year, but there were now reports that his son was up to the same tricks. Sembfrid appeared to be his chief target, and Egmar had been advised that the loyalty of his subjects there would be stiffened if he were to visit them.
It sounded reasonable enough to Shansi, but why was it necessary for her and Chaldez to go with him?
Egmar nodded sympathetically, then pointed out that the impact of the visit would be far greater if he could present to the people his son and heir: his own presence would impress upon them the identity of their sovereign, and the presence of Chaldez would give them a sense of continuity. And the mere fact that the visitation followed so closely upon the naming ceremony would give it added significance, he said.
Shansi was left with nothing to argue about. All she could do was to ask that she should be consulted at every stage in the planning of her own and the prince's travelling arrangements.
Egmar casually informed her that she should speak to Morvina about that.
Shansi looked at him with disbelief. Morvina? What had she got to do with them?
Egmar said that the dowager queen happened to be taking a keen personal interest in the projected tour. She was extremely anxious that it should be a success - and here he gave Shansi a meaningful look - and had asked to be allowed to exploit her considerable influence in the northern provinces on behalf of the royal family by arranging suitable hospitality for it during its progress. It would therefore be a matter of courtesy, he suggested, for Shansi to consult her if she intended making separate arrangements for herself. He, Chaldez and the child's wet nurse, on the other hand, would be taking advantage of Morvina's contacts.
Shansi's apprehension only intensified with this statement. Her mind flew to the question of a military escort, but she said nothing until she might raise it in an off-hand manner.
The opportunity for this arose during a discussion of the tour at a formal meal a few days later. Quite casually she asked who would be in command of their escort.
Egmar seemed to be slightly surprised by her question: he said why, Creal of course.
Well, thought Shansi, they were not to be without protection. That was some relief. But Creal . . .? She was not to know that it was he who had put Gorn in charge of the detachment which was sent to escort her and Chaldez from her estate in Fromond to Felewith for the naming ceremony, but she did know him to be dissolute and unreliable, and she suspected Morvina of having had a hand in introducing him to her husband. The king's reliance upon such a worthless man could only suit her purposes, she reasoned.
Shansi finished her meal in silence. Then, as Egmar rose from the table she announced baldly that she would not leave Felewith unless Pemmel the Kroyan was appointed commander.
There were 20 or so people present; etiquette demanded that they observed silence whenever the king or his queen spoke, so Shansi's demand was made in the full hearing of everyone there, and judging by the audible intakes of breath it caused a sensation.
Egmar was trapped. His wife still occupied a position of unique respect, and would do so for the first year of the prince's life, assuming he survived. He could not be seen to be denying her anything, but this was an outrageous request. Pemmel was a foreigner, and his appointment to the Guard had caused Egmar trouble enough.
He turned, made a shrugging gesture and said he would have to think about it. The next day he informed Shansi that her request was out of the question. She had known as much when she had asked it, and in asking it she had known she was embarrassing him.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
CHAPTER SIX
By deferring his response to her demand, Egmar had regained the initiative. Shansi retaliated the only way she knew how to: looking him in the eye, she retorted “You cannot put Pemmel in command of the escort because he is a foreigner; a Kroyan. What do you suppose I am? If a Kroyan is fit to be your queen, why should a Kroyan not be fit to command your escort? By insulting my countryman in this way you insult me. Is this my reward for bearing you a son - insults? Was Morvina ever treated thus by your father? I sometimes wonder that I am allowed to share the King of Sair Jisenner's bed! Pemmel will be put in command of our escort or Chaldez and I shall not accompany you to Sembfrid. I shall let that be known so that if you insist on taking him everyone will know that you are acting against my wishes."
Egmar pursed his lips. He was bewildered and unsure of himself. He said, authoritatively, he hoped, "You know perfectly well there is no comparison to be made between your position here as my queen, and Pemmel's as my servant. Nevertheless, for your ease of mind I am prepared to break with all convention, and put Pemmel directly under Creal as his second-in-command."
Shansi said "thank you." She knew it was the best she could hope for.
Later that day she had occasion to leave the inner enclosure of the royal compound to inspect a horse which had been presented to her as a gift. She was accompanied outside the gates by the Lord Skripshi, a gnome-like little old man who for many years had been the late king's grand counsellor. He had a few long wisps of white hair on the top of his head , a wrinkled face, with dark pouches beneath his eyes, a wide mouth with loose, purple lips, and from his chin a few straggly hairs that tangled together to form a sort of beard. He was not quite as tall as Shansi.
Some years before Volkis died he fell from favour and was, in fact, exiled. But the king relented when he discovered that he had been the victim of a conspiracy to discredit him, and although the old man was not restored to his former pre-eminence he was made a counsellor and admitted to the court, where he had continued to live in the quarters provided for him.
To Shansi he had seemed the very image of a goblin. She was repelled by his apparent eagerness to befriend her. His smile - she interpreted it as a leer - sent shivers down her spine; even after her father's fall from power and she had become an outcast at the court she refused to give him the slightest encouragement.
It was Reela who eventually changed her mind about him.
Shansi had made a remark about how repulsive she found him, and how she wished he would not grin at her, but Reela, who usually agreed with everything her mistress said, this time plunged into a spirited defence of the old man. He might be ugly, she said, but he had a heart of gold; if Shansi ever needed a friend, she could find none more loyal, more shrewd or more generous.
Shansi did not immediately alter her opinion of Skripshi, but what Reela told her did make her think, and eventually she started to return the old man's smiles, and although they had little to say to each other she began to think of him as a sort of guardian. Now, as she passed through the gates of the inner enclosure, she was by no means displeased to find him stepping along beside her.
The horse was brought up by a groom for her to inspect. Skripshi, standing at her elbow all the while, began talking about the business in Sembfrid. He advanced the view that it was entirely unnecessary for her and Chaldez to make the journey there. He even doubted that there was any real need for the king to go either.
Shansi raised her eyebrows. She told the groom that the horse would do, and dismissed him.
Skripshi waited until he was gone, then he said that the threat which Egmar thought to deflect by his visit was non-existent. The Sair Jy-Din prince who was supposed to be interfering with Sembfrid was an imbecile, and in imminent danger of being deposed. He was incapable of managing his own affairs, let alone of meddling in other people's.
Shansi made no attempt to hide her astonishment. Skripshi then went on to explain that he had his own sources of information about what was going on, and that they were more reliable than the king's.
What, then, where the king's sources, Shansi asked?
Skripshi told her that he was being advised by his council, but that he believed the council to be less interested in promoting his interests than those of Morvina.
The name cropped up like a bad coin; Shansi repeated it, in the manner of an exclamation. Skripshi gave her a wry look, and then told her that the dowager queen had many friends on the king's council, where her chief ally was the Lord Garapu. It was he, especially, who had been pressing the case for the royal visit, and in support of it, had produced letters from Rilt of Sembfrid, which spoke of the province being in dire peril.
Shansi asked if the letters were forgeries; the old man thought not. It was the information they contained that was false, he said. There was no question of Sembfrid being in danger.
Shansi had met the Lord Rilt both at her wedding and the at the naming ceremony; he was a young man, and she had been impressed by his courtesy; why, she asked, would he seek to mislead the council?
Skripshi smiled at her; if Garapu had asked him to he would have obliged, for he was married to Garapu's daughter.
Shansi would have liked to ask Skripshi more, but by now they had reached the gates of the inner compound. Her companion bowed formally, and took his leave.
Shansi's mind was in turmoil. Morvina had constructed the perfect trap for her, Egmar and their child. She had no need to speculate on its precise mechanics; she knew only that it would be sprung during their travels in Sembfrid.
As the certainty of this gripped her, she felt overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, staggered and collapsed in a faint.
* * * *
She recovered to find Egmar standing beside her couch; he was most solicitous.
The only explanation Shansi could offer for passing out was that she was weaker than she had thought; too weak, perhaps, to undertake the journey to Sembfrid. Could it not be postponed?
Impossible, said Egmar; the arrangements were all made.
Shansi pleaded, but she pleaded in vain. Eventually Egmar ran out of patience; he turned and strode towards the doorway. As he reached the heavy curtains which were drawn across it he stopped. Then he turned slowly, thoughtfully. All right, he said, the tour was postponed. Shansi stared at him, dumbfounded. After he had gone she let go and cried, anxiety and tension escaping with her tears. She was left with a sense of euphoria, but it was short-lived because as she examined her triumph it melted to nothing before her eyes. They had been granted a temporary reprieve, that was all.
Egmar's change of heart did give her some hope, however.
That night he came to her, and was tender and loving, and she was reminded of a time - a hundred years ago it seemed - when he had showered her with caresses and endearments in the pleasure-drenched nights of their early marriage.
The next day she was up and about, and she said nothing to him about the postponement; but the following day she met him when he came in from a hunting expedition. As they walked away together from the inner gate to the great hall she told him that a postponement was not sufficient. She believed they would be in mortal danger whenever they undertook the journey, and that he must therefore cancel it, for all their sakes.
As she spoke, he stopped walking, disengaged his arm from hers and burst out into a loud, artificial laugh, holding his sides and throwing back his head. She looked at him, frightened.
Little had he realised, he said, recovering his breath, what a devious, deceitful and malicious-minded women the daughter of Taigram was! So; her fainting fit had had nothing to do with her being weak from child-bearing. It had been a sham. She had abused his trust and exploited his sympathy by pretending to be ill! And for what reason? Because she was obsessed with the insane notion that "someone" wanted to kill them all. She would be telling him next it was Morvina! People might indeed want to kill her, he said. But no one wanted him dead, for was he not the king? Then he repeated her pleas, mimicking her voice, and bursting into laughter, he walked away.
Shansi stood where he had left her, stunned and humiliated. his entire speech had been loud enough for everyone around them to have heard it.
Egmar stopped when he got to the entrance of the great hall and clapped his hands, summoning his attendants. They scurried to him and he announced, his voice raised imperiously, that he no longer wished to be pestered by the mad woman who called herself his queen. Unless he specifically summoned her, she was to be kept away from him. Then the heavy door was swung open for him and he went into the darkness beyond.
Shock gave way to anger, and at her first opportunity Shansi sent for Lewvin and Pemmel. They met together in the herb garden, in a corner which was partially obscured by bushes.
Egmar pursed his lips. He was bewildered and unsure of himself. He said, authoritatively, he hoped, "You know perfectly well there is no comparison to be made between your position here as my queen, and Pemmel's as my servant. Nevertheless, for your ease of mind I am prepared to break with all convention, and put Pemmel directly under Creal as his second-in-command."
Shansi said "thank you." She knew it was the best she could hope for.
Later that day she had occasion to leave the inner enclosure of the royal compound to inspect a horse which had been presented to her as a gift. She was accompanied outside the gates by the Lord Skripshi, a gnome-like little old man who for many years had been the late king's grand counsellor. He had a few long wisps of white hair on the top of his head , a wrinkled face, with dark pouches beneath his eyes, a wide mouth with loose, purple lips, and from his chin a few straggly hairs that tangled together to form a sort of beard. He was not quite as tall as Shansi.
Some years before Volkis died he fell from favour and was, in fact, exiled. But the king relented when he discovered that he had been the victim of a conspiracy to discredit him, and although the old man was not restored to his former pre-eminence he was made a counsellor and admitted to the court, where he had continued to live in the quarters provided for him.
To Shansi he had seemed the very image of a goblin. She was repelled by his apparent eagerness to befriend her. His smile - she interpreted it as a leer - sent shivers down her spine; even after her father's fall from power and she had become an outcast at the court she refused to give him the slightest encouragement.
It was Reela who eventually changed her mind about him.
Shansi had made a remark about how repulsive she found him, and how she wished he would not grin at her, but Reela, who usually agreed with everything her mistress said, this time plunged into a spirited defence of the old man. He might be ugly, she said, but he had a heart of gold; if Shansi ever needed a friend, she could find none more loyal, more shrewd or more generous.
Shansi did not immediately alter her opinion of Skripshi, but what Reela told her did make her think, and eventually she started to return the old man's smiles, and although they had little to say to each other she began to think of him as a sort of guardian. Now, as she passed through the gates of the inner enclosure, she was by no means displeased to find him stepping along beside her.
The horse was brought up by a groom for her to inspect. Skripshi, standing at her elbow all the while, began talking about the business in Sembfrid. He advanced the view that it was entirely unnecessary for her and Chaldez to make the journey there. He even doubted that there was any real need for the king to go either.
Shansi raised her eyebrows. She told the groom that the horse would do, and dismissed him.
Skripshi waited until he was gone, then he said that the threat which Egmar thought to deflect by his visit was non-existent. The Sair Jy-Din prince who was supposed to be interfering with Sembfrid was an imbecile, and in imminent danger of being deposed. He was incapable of managing his own affairs, let alone of meddling in other people's.
Shansi made no attempt to hide her astonishment. Skripshi then went on to explain that he had his own sources of information about what was going on, and that they were more reliable than the king's.
What, then, where the king's sources, Shansi asked?
Skripshi told her that he was being advised by his council, but that he believed the council to be less interested in promoting his interests than those of Morvina.
The name cropped up like a bad coin; Shansi repeated it, in the manner of an exclamation. Skripshi gave her a wry look, and then told her that the dowager queen had many friends on the king's council, where her chief ally was the Lord Garapu. It was he, especially, who had been pressing the case for the royal visit, and in support of it, had produced letters from Rilt of Sembfrid, which spoke of the province being in dire peril.
Shansi asked if the letters were forgeries; the old man thought not. It was the information they contained that was false, he said. There was no question of Sembfrid being in danger.
Shansi had met the Lord Rilt both at her wedding and the at the naming ceremony; he was a young man, and she had been impressed by his courtesy; why, she asked, would he seek to mislead the council?
Skripshi smiled at her; if Garapu had asked him to he would have obliged, for he was married to Garapu's daughter.
Shansi would have liked to ask Skripshi more, but by now they had reached the gates of the inner compound. Her companion bowed formally, and took his leave.
Shansi's mind was in turmoil. Morvina had constructed the perfect trap for her, Egmar and their child. She had no need to speculate on its precise mechanics; she knew only that it would be sprung during their travels in Sembfrid.
As the certainty of this gripped her, she felt overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, staggered and collapsed in a faint.
* * * *
She recovered to find Egmar standing beside her couch; he was most solicitous.
The only explanation Shansi could offer for passing out was that she was weaker than she had thought; too weak, perhaps, to undertake the journey to Sembfrid. Could it not be postponed?
Impossible, said Egmar; the arrangements were all made.
Shansi pleaded, but she pleaded in vain. Eventually Egmar ran out of patience; he turned and strode towards the doorway. As he reached the heavy curtains which were drawn across it he stopped. Then he turned slowly, thoughtfully. All right, he said, the tour was postponed. Shansi stared at him, dumbfounded. After he had gone she let go and cried, anxiety and tension escaping with her tears. She was left with a sense of euphoria, but it was short-lived because as she examined her triumph it melted to nothing before her eyes. They had been granted a temporary reprieve, that was all.
Egmar's change of heart did give her some hope, however.
That night he came to her, and was tender and loving, and she was reminded of a time - a hundred years ago it seemed - when he had showered her with caresses and endearments in the pleasure-drenched nights of their early marriage.
The next day she was up and about, and she said nothing to him about the postponement; but the following day she met him when he came in from a hunting expedition. As they walked away together from the inner gate to the great hall she told him that a postponement was not sufficient. She believed they would be in mortal danger whenever they undertook the journey, and that he must therefore cancel it, for all their sakes.
As she spoke, he stopped walking, disengaged his arm from hers and burst out into a loud, artificial laugh, holding his sides and throwing back his head. She looked at him, frightened.
Little had he realised, he said, recovering his breath, what a devious, deceitful and malicious-minded women the daughter of Taigram was! So; her fainting fit had had nothing to do with her being weak from child-bearing. It had been a sham. She had abused his trust and exploited his sympathy by pretending to be ill! And for what reason? Because she was obsessed with the insane notion that "someone" wanted to kill them all. She would be telling him next it was Morvina! People might indeed want to kill her, he said. But no one wanted him dead, for was he not the king? Then he repeated her pleas, mimicking her voice, and bursting into laughter, he walked away.
Shansi stood where he had left her, stunned and humiliated. his entire speech had been loud enough for everyone around them to have heard it.
Egmar stopped when he got to the entrance of the great hall and clapped his hands, summoning his attendants. They scurried to him and he announced, his voice raised imperiously, that he no longer wished to be pestered by the mad woman who called herself his queen. Unless he specifically summoned her, she was to be kept away from him. Then the heavy door was swung open for him and he went into the darkness beyond.
Shock gave way to anger, and at her first opportunity Shansi sent for Lewvin and Pemmel. They met together in the herb garden, in a corner which was partially obscured by bushes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Both of Shansi's Kroyan friends had been aware for some time that some sort of crisis was approaching; the moment they met Shansi in the herb garden they knew from her grim expression that it had broken.
At once she told them that Skripshi believed a plot was afoot to murder Chaldez. He considered it vital, she said, that the child should not be in the royal party when it departed for Sembfrid; but the king, she added, was adamant that he should be. She therefore proposed finding a substitute for Chaldez, and placing Chaldez himself under the direct protection of the Lord Segga of Istin, whom she knew was devoted to the royal family, and could be trusted absolutely. But they must act quickly for the royal party was due to leave Felewith in just four days' time.
Pemmel asked if he might make a suggestion. Shansi nodded; as she looked at him she found reassurance in his tall, loose-limbed, muscular presence. His droopy moustache and crinkly, light-coloured hair, thick and shoulder-length, were typical of his native Kroyan tribe. Lewvin's Theigan ancestry, like her own, on the other hand, was detectable in her relatively heavier build and handsome, dark hair.
Pemmel said that it would be easier to get hold of a dead baby than a living one; babies were dying all the time in Felewith. If a dead baby could be insinuated into the palace, along with a woman who could be passed off as its wet nurse, it would simply remain then for Shansi to announce that Chaldez was dead, thus pre-empting the attempt upon his life, while allowing him to be carried away to safety.
Shansi, her judgment impaired by anxiety which was now verging on panic, thought it a brilliant plan, for she realised at once that it would not only preserve the life of her child, but also her own and her husband's. With "Chaldez" dead there would be no question of proceeding with the Sembfrid tour. Morvina's carefully-laid trap would be useless then.
Later that day she sent for Skripshi: she wanted to know if he thought it would be wise to send Chaldez out of the kingdom.
"By all means," he said. "I presume you have somewhere safe to send him?" Then hurriedly, before Shansi could reply, he added "Don't tell me. If he has a protector I am pleased. But be sure you make it possible for him to return and claim his rightful place here, in his own kingdom."
Shansi smiled with incomprehension. Skripshi smiled too. He said "Do not send him away without proof of who he is." He paused, staring at the back of his hand. Shansi remained silent. He looked at her, then he said "I have an idea. May I see you tomorrow?"
The following day he came to her chamber, and when they were alone he gave her a small package. "Ensure," he said, "that this goes with your child wherever he goes."
Shansi unwrapped the cloth, and stared in astonishment at the gleaming red gem which was revealed.
"It is a ruby from the hilt of Roe Aada," he said.
Shansi knew this to be the sword which had belonged to Bedekka. It was now one of the principal objects of the royal regalia.
"You must have put yourself in great danger obtaining it," she said.
"Some," said the wizened little old man. But he was smiling. "It did help," he added, winking mischievously, "that I am Keeper of the Regalia." Then he became serious again. "You will notice that it is cut in a peculiar manner . . ." Shansi peered at it. Skripshi said: "Pick it up. You will see better."
She examined it, and nodded. Skripshi went on: "The stone and the place it was taken from are like the matching halves of a contract. When they are united they will prove the identity of he who had the ruby. Keep it safely. Your son' claim to the throne may depend upon it."
When Skripshi had gone, she summoned Pemmel. She told him that as soon as the dead substitute had been installed in the royal nursery he was to smuggle Chaldez and his nurse out of the royal compound and escort them to Istin. Lewvin was to go too. On their arrival they were to present themselves to the Lord Segga, who would know who sent them and the identity of their charge by the items that she was about to entrust to him. Here she took from her finger the ring which Egmar had given her when they married, and which bore the insignia of the royal house of Sair Jisener, and then she fetched the packet containing the Roe Aada Ruby. She showed Pemmel the gem, and then wrapped it up again, but this time with her ring. He was to ensure, she said, that the gem was mounted and secured to Chaldez in such a way that whatever adventures might befall him he could produce it at the last as proof of his identity and birthright.
Pemmel promised to do as she asked, and she handed him a leather pouch, heavy with gold; the income from her estate in Fromond. Pemmel took it, and in return gave her his dagger. He begged her to keep it for her own protection.
Shansi looked at it doubtfully; she could never use a dagger on anyone, even if she had the strength. Pemmel insisted that she keep it. She shrugged and placed it on the table beside her, but Pemmel was not satisfied until she had placed it inside her long nyarn garment.
Later the same day a dead baby and its mother, a beggar woman, were brought into the palace and put in the nursery.
By the time Shansi let it be known the following morning that Chaldez had died during the night, the real Chaldez, accompanied by Lewvin and his wet nurse, and escorted by Pemmel, was on his way to Istin.
Shansi's desperate deception worked until the beggar woman was examined by the king's council in order to establish how the prince had died and why he was in such an extraordinarily emaciated state. Egmar, who had instituted the proceedings, believed that she had starved his son to death, but it was quite obvious to the council that the woman was nearly starved to death herself. Counsellors were aware that while wet nurses for royal infants were not picked for their breeding and background, they were picked for the size and productivity of their breasts, and this woman's were no more than flaps of skin. Morvina was called in to give her opinion, and it was her opinion that the woman standing before them was an imposter and that the corpse might not even be that of Chaldez.
As the woman was taken away for torture, interrogation and execution she shrieked out confirmation of what Morvina had supposed. The dead baby, she screamed, was her own.
Suspicion immediately fell on Shansi.
She was in the temple of Tin Wina and Agnomi, mourning the death of her child, when members of the council, led by Morvina, came for her. She guessed what had happened as soon as she heard the commotion of their arrival, and before they could reach her, had wedged Pemmel's dagger against the wooden pillar beside her and hugged herself on to its sharp point. Although the wound was not immediately fatal she lost consciousness from loss of blood and never recovered sufficiently to be interrogated.
At once she told them that Skripshi believed a plot was afoot to murder Chaldez. He considered it vital, she said, that the child should not be in the royal party when it departed for Sembfrid; but the king, she added, was adamant that he should be. She therefore proposed finding a substitute for Chaldez, and placing Chaldez himself under the direct protection of the Lord Segga of Istin, whom she knew was devoted to the royal family, and could be trusted absolutely. But they must act quickly for the royal party was due to leave Felewith in just four days' time.
Pemmel asked if he might make a suggestion. Shansi nodded; as she looked at him she found reassurance in his tall, loose-limbed, muscular presence. His droopy moustache and crinkly, light-coloured hair, thick and shoulder-length, were typical of his native Kroyan tribe. Lewvin's Theigan ancestry, like her own, on the other hand, was detectable in her relatively heavier build and handsome, dark hair.
Pemmel said that it would be easier to get hold of a dead baby than a living one; babies were dying all the time in Felewith. If a dead baby could be insinuated into the palace, along with a woman who could be passed off as its wet nurse, it would simply remain then for Shansi to announce that Chaldez was dead, thus pre-empting the attempt upon his life, while allowing him to be carried away to safety.
Shansi, her judgment impaired by anxiety which was now verging on panic, thought it a brilliant plan, for she realised at once that it would not only preserve the life of her child, but also her own and her husband's. With "Chaldez" dead there would be no question of proceeding with the Sembfrid tour. Morvina's carefully-laid trap would be useless then.
Later that day she sent for Skripshi: she wanted to know if he thought it would be wise to send Chaldez out of the kingdom.
"By all means," he said. "I presume you have somewhere safe to send him?" Then hurriedly, before Shansi could reply, he added "Don't tell me. If he has a protector I am pleased. But be sure you make it possible for him to return and claim his rightful place here, in his own kingdom."
Shansi smiled with incomprehension. Skripshi smiled too. He said "Do not send him away without proof of who he is." He paused, staring at the back of his hand. Shansi remained silent. He looked at her, then he said "I have an idea. May I see you tomorrow?"
The following day he came to her chamber, and when they were alone he gave her a small package. "Ensure," he said, "that this goes with your child wherever he goes."
Shansi unwrapped the cloth, and stared in astonishment at the gleaming red gem which was revealed.
"It is a ruby from the hilt of Roe Aada," he said.
Shansi knew this to be the sword which had belonged to Bedekka. It was now one of the principal objects of the royal regalia.
"You must have put yourself in great danger obtaining it," she said.
"Some," said the wizened little old man. But he was smiling. "It did help," he added, winking mischievously, "that I am Keeper of the Regalia." Then he became serious again. "You will notice that it is cut in a peculiar manner . . ." Shansi peered at it. Skripshi said: "Pick it up. You will see better."
She examined it, and nodded. Skripshi went on: "The stone and the place it was taken from are like the matching halves of a contract. When they are united they will prove the identity of he who had the ruby. Keep it safely. Your son' claim to the throne may depend upon it."
When Skripshi had gone, she summoned Pemmel. She told him that as soon as the dead substitute had been installed in the royal nursery he was to smuggle Chaldez and his nurse out of the royal compound and escort them to Istin. Lewvin was to go too. On their arrival they were to present themselves to the Lord Segga, who would know who sent them and the identity of their charge by the items that she was about to entrust to him. Here she took from her finger the ring which Egmar had given her when they married, and which bore the insignia of the royal house of Sair Jisener, and then she fetched the packet containing the Roe Aada Ruby. She showed Pemmel the gem, and then wrapped it up again, but this time with her ring. He was to ensure, she said, that the gem was mounted and secured to Chaldez in such a way that whatever adventures might befall him he could produce it at the last as proof of his identity and birthright.
Pemmel promised to do as she asked, and she handed him a leather pouch, heavy with gold; the income from her estate in Fromond. Pemmel took it, and in return gave her his dagger. He begged her to keep it for her own protection.
Shansi looked at it doubtfully; she could never use a dagger on anyone, even if she had the strength. Pemmel insisted that she keep it. She shrugged and placed it on the table beside her, but Pemmel was not satisfied until she had placed it inside her long nyarn garment.
Later the same day a dead baby and its mother, a beggar woman, were brought into the palace and put in the nursery.
By the time Shansi let it be known the following morning that Chaldez had died during the night, the real Chaldez, accompanied by Lewvin and his wet nurse, and escorted by Pemmel, was on his way to Istin.
Shansi's desperate deception worked until the beggar woman was examined by the king's council in order to establish how the prince had died and why he was in such an extraordinarily emaciated state. Egmar, who had instituted the proceedings, believed that she had starved his son to death, but it was quite obvious to the council that the woman was nearly starved to death herself. Counsellors were aware that while wet nurses for royal infants were not picked for their breeding and background, they were picked for the size and productivity of their breasts, and this woman's were no more than flaps of skin. Morvina was called in to give her opinion, and it was her opinion that the woman standing before them was an imposter and that the corpse might not even be that of Chaldez.
As the woman was taken away for torture, interrogation and execution she shrieked out confirmation of what Morvina had supposed. The dead baby, she screamed, was her own.
Suspicion immediately fell on Shansi.
She was in the temple of Tin Wina and Agnomi, mourning the death of her child, when members of the council, led by Morvina, came for her. She guessed what had happened as soon as she heard the commotion of their arrival, and before they could reach her, had wedged Pemmel's dagger against the wooden pillar beside her and hugged herself on to its sharp point. Although the wound was not immediately fatal she lost consciousness from loss of blood and never recovered sufficiently to be interrogated.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pemmel expected the journey to Istin to take the best part of four days, and he set out in a cheerful, confident mood, the operation to get the beggar woman and her dead child into the royal compound, and Chaldez, his nurse and Lewvin out of it, having gone without a hitch.
As he had anticipated, there had been no difficulty finding a dead child; it was in the arms of its mother, a beggar, who was sitting outside the gates of the royal compound. She was clutching a small, ragged bundle in her arms, and she wept as she rocked her body back and forth distractedly.
Pemmel dismounted from his horse and spoke to her briefly. She told him that her child had died that morning. Pemmel asked her if she would like money to buy food for herself and a decent burial for her infant, and she held out a claw of a hand expectantly. But he told her she would have to earn it; he then brought her into the compound.
There was nothing unusual about a beggar being brought into the compound by a member of the household to be fed and clothed; such acts of charity were done to gain favour with the goddess Lahanaha, giver of good fortune.
Pemmel took her to his own quarters, which were in a long building opposite the great hall, and sent for Lewvin. He gave the woman some bread and meat and instructed Lewvin to clean her up and put her into some decent clothes.
Lewvin donated some of her own, and although it was beyond a wash and change of clothes to transform the wretched woman, she did look very much more presentable. Then Pemmel, carrying her child's body in a bundle of furs, led her quickly across to the great hall, and Lewvin took them by a back way into Shansi's chamber, and from there to the nursery where they were met by the wet nurse. The Queen had instructed her to obey Lewvin in all things, and at Lewvin's signal she meekly departed. Chaldez was dosed with wine and wrapped loosely in the furs, and Pemmel carried him nonchalantly out of the great hall. Lewvin, meanwhile, gave the beggar woman a gold coin and the remainder of the wine, and told her to make herself comfortable and that if anyone questioned her, she was to say she was the wet nurse.
Pemmel carried his bundle through the compound to the perimeter gates. No one challenged him, and once beyond them he hurried to a house in the town which he had used for romantic liasons. He told the owner to look after the baby until his return.
Back in the compound he ordered two horses to be saddled up - his personal authority as second-in-command of the escort to Sembfrid being sufficient for such a command to be carried out without question - and shortly afterwards Lewvin met him by the stables. The prince's nurse, she told him, would meet them at a certain craftsman's stall in the town's market place.
Pemmel suddenly felt uneasy; it had not occurred to him before that the nurse might not be trustworthy. He asked "Are you sure she will be there? We are more in her hands than I care to be."
Lewvin said "She knows that we are saving the baby's life, and I know that the queen gave her two gold coins to make up for the inconvenience. She will be there, I am sure of it."
Pemmel and Lewvin left the compound together. It was now sometime after five, and if they were to leave Felewith before the city gates closed they had but a couple of hours in which to meet the nurse and collect their provisions for the journey.
It was easily done. Pemmel contrived a sling for Chaldez, who, with his nurse were mounted behind Lewvin on one horse; he rode the other.
The little group presented an unremarkable sight, and would have been taken for a moderately well-to-do family which had come to Felewith for the naming ceremony of a first-born and was now travelling back to its modest estate in the country near by. It was rather late, perhaps, to be on the road, but not especially noteworthy, and being high summer, several hours of daylight remained.
Despite the strain he had been under and the weariness that began to catch up with him, Pemmel was in high spirits. Things could not have gone smoother.
The sun sank out of sight but the grey light of dusk lingered on as an azure sky imperceptibly darkened; it was not yet black when the moon, nearly-full, lit a colourless landscape with its white, eerie light.
The party travelled on through the night, stopping only briefly for a light meal. Pemmel thought that they should eat again at day-break and then look for a sheltered place where they could rest up until about mid-day. If they then travelled until nightfall they would have covered nearly half the distance to Istin and safety, and could look for somewhere to spend the night.
The Tew Valley, along which the track they were taking passed, is sprinkled thinly with small, fortified farmsteads, hamlets and the occasional village. Beyond the populated strips on either side of the river lie an almost-unbroken forest, and as the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn, Pemmel turned his horse down a track which led off towards what looked in the that light to be a vast dark cloud blanketing the landscape.
The track veered away from the forest rim, and at this point they left it, riding over the fields until they were among the trees, and now a dense canopy of branches almost completely blocked out the brightening sky.
Farther on they came to a glade where they dismounted and eased their aching limbs. Pemmel constructed a crude shelter from fallen branches and dried leaves and settled Lewvin, the nurse and Chaldez beneath it. They ate somewhat sparingly and then tried to sleep.
Chaldez, of course, was wide awake and demanding attention. Lewvin slept through his crying; the nurse seemed to be undisturbed by it too. No doubt she was used to it, thought Pemmel ruefully as he searched uselessly for sleep.
He dozed off and on, and then found himself fully awake. He had been wondering, in his half sleep, about what had been happening in Felewith, and with a sudden cold certainty he knew that the palace must have discovered that the dead baby was not the prince.
When he had first put his idea to Shansi he had thought it a neat solution; and so, apparently, had she. Indeed, her enthusiasm for it had prevented him, he now realised, from examining it properly. Perhaps it had not been such a bad plan in theory, but it had depended for its success upon the substitute for Chaldez being a convincing one, and he broke into a cold sweat at the thought of the pathetic, skin-and-bone corpse which he had insinuated into the nursery. How could he have imagined it would have fooled anyone! And he had been so pleased with himself! The fact was, he had endangered them all. He cursed his stupidity. Clearly it was out of the question for them to travel in daylight now; search parties were probably scouring the kingdom even then.
He awoke Lewvin and told her of his fears, and that they must do the remainder of the journey by night.
She took the news badly and became morose.
They spent the following day where they were.
By evening it had started to drizzle; there would be no moon that night.
Getting out of the forest was a nightmare. It was a couple of hours before they reached the valley road and could continue their journey.
Just before mid-night they passed through a small town which stands at a bridge over a tributary of the Tew. One of the houses fronting the road had lighted rush torches behind its windows, and within a few moments of passing it, Pemmel heard shouts coming from its direction, and then the sounds of horses' hooves stomping on the paving stones of a courtyard. He called over his shoulder to Lewvin to hurry to the bridge. Her horse broke into a trot and he allowed it to pass him, then he jabbed his heels into the flanks of his own mount and followed close behind.
There was no doubt in his mind that a reception party had been waiting for them, and now they were sure to be taken because the nurse riding behind Lewvin would never be able to keep her seat in a gallop.
At the narrow hump-back bridge, Pemmel shouted to Lewvin to ride on and not wait for him. He crossed the bridge too, but at the far side, drew his sword, turned his horse and rode back so as to occupy the very middle, where it was at its narrowest and highest point.
The night had lightened slightly, the moon glowing faintly through a threadbare veil of clouds, and the horsemen galloping up to the bridge had warning of Pemmel's presence there before they encountered his sword. There were four of them, and they came to a ragged halt. Then one of them shouted out and asked if he was addressing Pemmel of the King's Guard. Pemmel said he was. The other called back that he and his fellows had orders to make him surrender the Prince Chaldez to them. Pemmel replied that they could but try, whereupon the leader of the contingent gave a shout and spurred his horse on to the bridge.
The animal's response was too sudden and for a moment its rider had to concentrate on keeping his seat. The other three saw Pemmel's sword slice the air in a deadly arc; heard the dull thud as it struck their comrade in the side below his up-lifted right arm. The sword descended again, catching the undefended shoulder a fearsome blow, severing the vein and shattering the bone. A cry pierced the night.
Pemmel shooed and shoved the riderless horse off the bridge and resumed his former stance.
Two of the remaining horsemen charged him, riding two abreast. They slashed wildly with their swords and seemed to be about to drive Pemmel off the bridge, but having given some ground under the pressure of their charge he gave no more.
From the bank all that could be seen in that dim light of the battle on the bridge was a confusion of shadowy shapes as the night’s silence was torn by the ring of clashing steel and the duller sounds of horses snorting and men grunting with exertion, and the thud and scuffled of horses' hooves on stone.
Suddenly there was a sharp cry, and it could be seen from the bank that only two figures were now at close quarters. The third was slumped forward upon the neck of his horse, and as the animal backed clumsily off the bridge he slipped by degrees out of the saddle.
The last of the four riders, who had not so far moved from the bank, now spurred his horse on to the bridge, but as he reached the two embattled figures Pemmel's thrusting sword stabbed his companion and then finished him off with a blow to the head. The newcomer slipped out of his saddle and ran.
Pemmel sat where he was, gasping. His arms, body and thighs were covered in blood from numerous cuts and gashes, but he felt only exhaustion and a terrible thirst. Moving as though lead weights were attached to every limb, he climbed out of his saddle and stumbled down the bank to where the stream ran cold and clear over gleaming pebbles.
* * * *
As he had anticipated, there had been no difficulty finding a dead child; it was in the arms of its mother, a beggar, who was sitting outside the gates of the royal compound. She was clutching a small, ragged bundle in her arms, and she wept as she rocked her body back and forth distractedly.
Pemmel dismounted from his horse and spoke to her briefly. She told him that her child had died that morning. Pemmel asked her if she would like money to buy food for herself and a decent burial for her infant, and she held out a claw of a hand expectantly. But he told her she would have to earn it; he then brought her into the compound.
There was nothing unusual about a beggar being brought into the compound by a member of the household to be fed and clothed; such acts of charity were done to gain favour with the goddess Lahanaha, giver of good fortune.
Pemmel took her to his own quarters, which were in a long building opposite the great hall, and sent for Lewvin. He gave the woman some bread and meat and instructed Lewvin to clean her up and put her into some decent clothes.
Lewvin donated some of her own, and although it was beyond a wash and change of clothes to transform the wretched woman, she did look very much more presentable. Then Pemmel, carrying her child's body in a bundle of furs, led her quickly across to the great hall, and Lewvin took them by a back way into Shansi's chamber, and from there to the nursery where they were met by the wet nurse. The Queen had instructed her to obey Lewvin in all things, and at Lewvin's signal she meekly departed. Chaldez was dosed with wine and wrapped loosely in the furs, and Pemmel carried him nonchalantly out of the great hall. Lewvin, meanwhile, gave the beggar woman a gold coin and the remainder of the wine, and told her to make herself comfortable and that if anyone questioned her, she was to say she was the wet nurse.
Pemmel carried his bundle through the compound to the perimeter gates. No one challenged him, and once beyond them he hurried to a house in the town which he had used for romantic liasons. He told the owner to look after the baby until his return.
Back in the compound he ordered two horses to be saddled up - his personal authority as second-in-command of the escort to Sembfrid being sufficient for such a command to be carried out without question - and shortly afterwards Lewvin met him by the stables. The prince's nurse, she told him, would meet them at a certain craftsman's stall in the town's market place.
Pemmel suddenly felt uneasy; it had not occurred to him before that the nurse might not be trustworthy. He asked "Are you sure she will be there? We are more in her hands than I care to be."
Lewvin said "She knows that we are saving the baby's life, and I know that the queen gave her two gold coins to make up for the inconvenience. She will be there, I am sure of it."
Pemmel and Lewvin left the compound together. It was now sometime after five, and if they were to leave Felewith before the city gates closed they had but a couple of hours in which to meet the nurse and collect their provisions for the journey.
It was easily done. Pemmel contrived a sling for Chaldez, who, with his nurse were mounted behind Lewvin on one horse; he rode the other.
The little group presented an unremarkable sight, and would have been taken for a moderately well-to-do family which had come to Felewith for the naming ceremony of a first-born and was now travelling back to its modest estate in the country near by. It was rather late, perhaps, to be on the road, but not especially noteworthy, and being high summer, several hours of daylight remained.
Despite the strain he had been under and the weariness that began to catch up with him, Pemmel was in high spirits. Things could not have gone smoother.
The sun sank out of sight but the grey light of dusk lingered on as an azure sky imperceptibly darkened; it was not yet black when the moon, nearly-full, lit a colourless landscape with its white, eerie light.
The party travelled on through the night, stopping only briefly for a light meal. Pemmel thought that they should eat again at day-break and then look for a sheltered place where they could rest up until about mid-day. If they then travelled until nightfall they would have covered nearly half the distance to Istin and safety, and could look for somewhere to spend the night.
The Tew Valley, along which the track they were taking passed, is sprinkled thinly with small, fortified farmsteads, hamlets and the occasional village. Beyond the populated strips on either side of the river lie an almost-unbroken forest, and as the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn, Pemmel turned his horse down a track which led off towards what looked in the that light to be a vast dark cloud blanketing the landscape.
The track veered away from the forest rim, and at this point they left it, riding over the fields until they were among the trees, and now a dense canopy of branches almost completely blocked out the brightening sky.
Farther on they came to a glade where they dismounted and eased their aching limbs. Pemmel constructed a crude shelter from fallen branches and dried leaves and settled Lewvin, the nurse and Chaldez beneath it. They ate somewhat sparingly and then tried to sleep.
Chaldez, of course, was wide awake and demanding attention. Lewvin slept through his crying; the nurse seemed to be undisturbed by it too. No doubt she was used to it, thought Pemmel ruefully as he searched uselessly for sleep.
He dozed off and on, and then found himself fully awake. He had been wondering, in his half sleep, about what had been happening in Felewith, and with a sudden cold certainty he knew that the palace must have discovered that the dead baby was not the prince.
When he had first put his idea to Shansi he had thought it a neat solution; and so, apparently, had she. Indeed, her enthusiasm for it had prevented him, he now realised, from examining it properly. Perhaps it had not been such a bad plan in theory, but it had depended for its success upon the substitute for Chaldez being a convincing one, and he broke into a cold sweat at the thought of the pathetic, skin-and-bone corpse which he had insinuated into the nursery. How could he have imagined it would have fooled anyone! And he had been so pleased with himself! The fact was, he had endangered them all. He cursed his stupidity. Clearly it was out of the question for them to travel in daylight now; search parties were probably scouring the kingdom even then.
He awoke Lewvin and told her of his fears, and that they must do the remainder of the journey by night.
She took the news badly and became morose.
They spent the following day where they were.
By evening it had started to drizzle; there would be no moon that night.
Getting out of the forest was a nightmare. It was a couple of hours before they reached the valley road and could continue their journey.
Just before mid-night they passed through a small town which stands at a bridge over a tributary of the Tew. One of the houses fronting the road had lighted rush torches behind its windows, and within a few moments of passing it, Pemmel heard shouts coming from its direction, and then the sounds of horses' hooves stomping on the paving stones of a courtyard. He called over his shoulder to Lewvin to hurry to the bridge. Her horse broke into a trot and he allowed it to pass him, then he jabbed his heels into the flanks of his own mount and followed close behind.
There was no doubt in his mind that a reception party had been waiting for them, and now they were sure to be taken because the nurse riding behind Lewvin would never be able to keep her seat in a gallop.
At the narrow hump-back bridge, Pemmel shouted to Lewvin to ride on and not wait for him. He crossed the bridge too, but at the far side, drew his sword, turned his horse and rode back so as to occupy the very middle, where it was at its narrowest and highest point.
The night had lightened slightly, the moon glowing faintly through a threadbare veil of clouds, and the horsemen galloping up to the bridge had warning of Pemmel's presence there before they encountered his sword. There were four of them, and they came to a ragged halt. Then one of them shouted out and asked if he was addressing Pemmel of the King's Guard. Pemmel said he was. The other called back that he and his fellows had orders to make him surrender the Prince Chaldez to them. Pemmel replied that they could but try, whereupon the leader of the contingent gave a shout and spurred his horse on to the bridge.
The animal's response was too sudden and for a moment its rider had to concentrate on keeping his seat. The other three saw Pemmel's sword slice the air in a deadly arc; heard the dull thud as it struck their comrade in the side below his up-lifted right arm. The sword descended again, catching the undefended shoulder a fearsome blow, severing the vein and shattering the bone. A cry pierced the night.
Pemmel shooed and shoved the riderless horse off the bridge and resumed his former stance.
Two of the remaining horsemen charged him, riding two abreast. They slashed wildly with their swords and seemed to be about to drive Pemmel off the bridge, but having given some ground under the pressure of their charge he gave no more.
From the bank all that could be seen in that dim light of the battle on the bridge was a confusion of shadowy shapes as the night’s silence was torn by the ring of clashing steel and the duller sounds of horses snorting and men grunting with exertion, and the thud and scuffled of horses' hooves on stone.
Suddenly there was a sharp cry, and it could be seen from the bank that only two figures were now at close quarters. The third was slumped forward upon the neck of his horse, and as the animal backed clumsily off the bridge he slipped by degrees out of the saddle.
The last of the four riders, who had not so far moved from the bank, now spurred his horse on to the bridge, but as he reached the two embattled figures Pemmel's thrusting sword stabbed his companion and then finished him off with a blow to the head. The newcomer slipped out of his saddle and ran.
Pemmel sat where he was, gasping. His arms, body and thighs were covered in blood from numerous cuts and gashes, but he felt only exhaustion and a terrible thirst. Moving as though lead weights were attached to every limb, he climbed out of his saddle and stumbled down the bank to where the stream ran cold and clear over gleaming pebbles.
* * * *
Lewvin, when she heard Pemmel's command not to wait, guessed that he would try to hold the bridge, and indeed, she heard the shouted exchange between him and their pursuers, and the cry of the dying man. It momentarily paralysed her with fear, but she allowed the horse to continue its steady trot, only knowing that she must leave the valley road as soon as she could. A track went off to the right and she made the horse follow it. Eventually they came to a hamlet, and among the wretched hovels there she found a broken-down barn. There was dry straw inside, but no sooner had the nurse settled down on it than Chaldez, who had been sleeping, awoke and began to cry.
Almost at once the flickering light of a rush torch appeared in the doorway and two figures came through. As they advanced, Lewvin saw that they were a man and a woman, their thin bodies dressed in the coarse, worn clothes of poor peasants. She decided to trust them, and hope they believed her fantastic story of trying to save a prince from his murderers.
The only name that meant anything to them was that of the king. They looked at Chaldez doubtfully; they had heard nothing of a princeling. Then suddenly the woman went down on her knees to the baby and kissed the corner of the skin that he was wrapped in; she had just seen the silver pin which fastened one of Lewvin's bundles, and never having set eyes on such a wonderful contrivance before recognised it as a sure sign of royalty. She whispered urgently to her husband, and he too made obeisance. Then she invited the nurse to bring Chaldez into her hovel. Lewvin was not sure if the invitation extended to her, but followed all the same.
The hovel stank; the woman drove out the five children who were lying around the blackened hearth in the centre, and made room for Chaldez and his nurse. Lewvin satisfied herself that the pair were unlikely to come to any harm and excused herself; somehow she must find out how Pemmel had fared at the bridge. At the valley road she stopped and listened. The night was very still. From the distance came the eerie yelping of a fox but there were no other sounds. Cautiously she made her way back to the bridge.
The moon shone intermittently through the broken clouds and when she was yet some distance from the bridge she could see the dark shape of a horse standing by it. She found Pemmel himself lying at the edge of the stream.
At first she thought he was dead but when she touched him he stirred. The stones all around him were dark and slippery with his blood. The sight of his gaping wounds appalled and sickened her. She took his sword, and using its point made holes in her cloak so that she could tear it into strips with which she bound up the worst of them. Then she helped him to his horse and heaved and pushed him until he was in the saddle, then slowly they rode back to the hamlet.
By the time they reached it birds were in full voice, and the clear eastern sky was alight with the approaching dawn. She laid Pemmel in the barn, where she tended him, helped by the peasant woman and her relatives while the men-folk came and stared and nudged one another before returning to their chores.
Pemmel was extremely weak, barely having the strength to open his eyes. With a great effort he told Lewvin about Shansi's ring and the Roe Aada ruby and what was to be done with them. He whispered that they were in the bundle on his saddle, along with a bag of gold. As the day advanced he grew weaker, and shortly after mid-day he died.
Lewvin felt destitute, and incapable now of continuing the journey to Istin; she refused to let the peasants remove his body, but sat beside it, in a stupor.
By the time dusk fell she had hardly moved. The nurse came and asked her if she would not go into one of the hovels for the night, but she stayed where she was, huddled in the remnants of her cloak.
The next morning one of the young men of the hamlet came, and after some initial shuffling in the straw and muttering about the harsh life he and his family were forced to lead, mentioned that he might be able to find help. She looked at him dully. It would cost her gold, he said. Her expression did not alter. He would need at least ten kara, he said.
Shansi had no intention of letting him see that she had any gold, so told him to go away and return later. When he did, she gave him what he had asked for; it was probably more gold, she reflected, than he handled in a year. He put it away carefully and told her to wait.
He was back just before nightfall, bringing with him another man, this one dressed altogether differently. Whereas the peasant wore rough woollen clothes, the other was drapped in skins and furs. His behaviour was much bolder. He said that his brother, and he indicated the young peasant, had told him that Lewvin wanted to be conducted with a baby and another woman to the Kell.
Lewvin nodded. He told her to collect her things and follow on her horse. It seemed he had travelled on foot, but he had no hesitation in taking Pemmel's horse. Lewvin and the nurse, with Chaldez in the sling on her back, set off after him.
He led the way to the edge of the forest and then plunged in among the crowded trees, riding through a darkness that completely baffled Lewvin's peering eyes but appeared to be no problem to his as he sometimes coaxed Pemmel's horse and sometimes urged it on with slaps, kicks and curses.
After riding for the best part of an hour they came into a clearing where several fires gave out enough light for Lewvin to see that they were in a rough encampment of skin tents and shelters made from branches.
Lewvin was to discover soon enough that they had been brought into the camp of Kiereg, leader of one of the numerous out-law bands that infested the vast forests of Sair. He was a short, powerfully-built man with black hair done into a plait that reached half way down his back. The lower part of his right ear was missing, and a scar that extended right along his jaw as far as his chin suggested how he might have lost it. He told Lewvin that he could arrange for her to be escorted to the Istin border, but how much could she pay him?
Lewvin said that they had had to leave Felewith in a great hurry and had been able to bring very little gold with them.
Kiereg looked at her quizzically. That was very unfortunate, he said, and Lewvin was suddenly horrified by what she had just told him, for surely he would realise that he had much to gain, and nothing to lose, by "selling" Chaldez to their enemies in Felewith.
She did, she corrected herself hurriedly, have some gold. Kiereg burst out laughing, and produced in one hand the purse of gold and in the other the two jewels. Their lives, he asked, in exchange for the gold and trinkets? Keep the gold, Lewvin told him, but without the ruby and ring their flight was pointless; he might as well kill them there and then.
He looked down at the two objects, and then tossed them to her. They would be leaving, he said, in the morning; time enough for her to show him how the ladies at the court of King Egmar were taught to give a man pleasure. Or would she prefer to entertain his followers?
She looked around her and saw that she and Kiereg were surrounded by on-lookers. Some were leering and nudging one another; others simply looked on inquisitively.
Never before had she experienced such a sensation of dread as now suddenly possessed her; she thought her legs would give way; her body was shaking convulsively and bathed in sweat. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and barely more than a whisper. "No" she said.
Kiereg cupped his ear theatrically. "What?" he demanded.
The moment of panic passed. Lewvin looked again at the figures surrounding her. Horror and fear still gripped her, but not as powerfully as a moment ago. In her cooler state of mind she was able to take in more, and she noticed now that there were some women among the men. She felt a moment's relief, but was quickly aware that there was no hint of sympathy in their expressions, only an intense, cruel excitement. Far from restraining their men, these women would goad them on, and this realisation filled her with rage. She spoke clearly and confidently, her head held high. "If I am to be ravished and murdered in the camp of Kiereg," she declared, "the gods will know why. Let Tin Wina be your judge."
Kiereg was taken aback by this. He said "you are safe with Kiereg. Come," and he led the way through the circle to his tent. "I'll have you tonight," he said, ushering her inside. "You can show Kiereg he is right in thinking you're too good for that lot out there."
Lewvin endured his rough love-making with something like detached indifference, as though she were watching from a distance the things he was doing to her. He grunted and humped, the urgency of his lust overwhelming his conscious being, and she felt immeasurably superior.
Their guide the next day was a tall, rangy man with red hair. He was known as the Fox. He had with him three other men, and Lewvin took these to be their escort. Their appearance was as uncouth as she had come to expect of Kiereg's men, and their language was coarse and vile. She assumed they knew about the ruby and Shansi's ring, and she wondered bleakly what their chances of survival were in the company of such men.
As before, she and the nurse and Chaldez were mounted on the horse they had brought from Felewith. The Fox and his companions were on foot, but this proved to be no handicap for they covered the ground rapidly.
By the end of the first day Lewvin was gaining confidence; the men were rough, but deferential towards Chaldez and his nurse to whom they were as polite as they probably knew how to be. Lewvin herself they more or less disregarded. That night they ate well and she slept soundly. By mid-morning of the fourth day of their flight from Felewith they were crossing the stream that marks the Istin border. By evening Segga was welcoming them to his great hall at Hissad, his tiny capital.
Almost at once the flickering light of a rush torch appeared in the doorway and two figures came through. As they advanced, Lewvin saw that they were a man and a woman, their thin bodies dressed in the coarse, worn clothes of poor peasants. She decided to trust them, and hope they believed her fantastic story of trying to save a prince from his murderers.
The only name that meant anything to them was that of the king. They looked at Chaldez doubtfully; they had heard nothing of a princeling. Then suddenly the woman went down on her knees to the baby and kissed the corner of the skin that he was wrapped in; she had just seen the silver pin which fastened one of Lewvin's bundles, and never having set eyes on such a wonderful contrivance before recognised it as a sure sign of royalty. She whispered urgently to her husband, and he too made obeisance. Then she invited the nurse to bring Chaldez into her hovel. Lewvin was not sure if the invitation extended to her, but followed all the same.
The hovel stank; the woman drove out the five children who were lying around the blackened hearth in the centre, and made room for Chaldez and his nurse. Lewvin satisfied herself that the pair were unlikely to come to any harm and excused herself; somehow she must find out how Pemmel had fared at the bridge. At the valley road she stopped and listened. The night was very still. From the distance came the eerie yelping of a fox but there were no other sounds. Cautiously she made her way back to the bridge.
The moon shone intermittently through the broken clouds and when she was yet some distance from the bridge she could see the dark shape of a horse standing by it. She found Pemmel himself lying at the edge of the stream.
At first she thought he was dead but when she touched him he stirred. The stones all around him were dark and slippery with his blood. The sight of his gaping wounds appalled and sickened her. She took his sword, and using its point made holes in her cloak so that she could tear it into strips with which she bound up the worst of them. Then she helped him to his horse and heaved and pushed him until he was in the saddle, then slowly they rode back to the hamlet.
By the time they reached it birds were in full voice, and the clear eastern sky was alight with the approaching dawn. She laid Pemmel in the barn, where she tended him, helped by the peasant woman and her relatives while the men-folk came and stared and nudged one another before returning to their chores.
Pemmel was extremely weak, barely having the strength to open his eyes. With a great effort he told Lewvin about Shansi's ring and the Roe Aada ruby and what was to be done with them. He whispered that they were in the bundle on his saddle, along with a bag of gold. As the day advanced he grew weaker, and shortly after mid-day he died.
Lewvin felt destitute, and incapable now of continuing the journey to Istin; she refused to let the peasants remove his body, but sat beside it, in a stupor.
By the time dusk fell she had hardly moved. The nurse came and asked her if she would not go into one of the hovels for the night, but she stayed where she was, huddled in the remnants of her cloak.
The next morning one of the young men of the hamlet came, and after some initial shuffling in the straw and muttering about the harsh life he and his family were forced to lead, mentioned that he might be able to find help. She looked at him dully. It would cost her gold, he said. Her expression did not alter. He would need at least ten kara, he said.
Shansi had no intention of letting him see that she had any gold, so told him to go away and return later. When he did, she gave him what he had asked for; it was probably more gold, she reflected, than he handled in a year. He put it away carefully and told her to wait.
He was back just before nightfall, bringing with him another man, this one dressed altogether differently. Whereas the peasant wore rough woollen clothes, the other was drapped in skins and furs. His behaviour was much bolder. He said that his brother, and he indicated the young peasant, had told him that Lewvin wanted to be conducted with a baby and another woman to the Kell.
Lewvin nodded. He told her to collect her things and follow on her horse. It seemed he had travelled on foot, but he had no hesitation in taking Pemmel's horse. Lewvin and the nurse, with Chaldez in the sling on her back, set off after him.
He led the way to the edge of the forest and then plunged in among the crowded trees, riding through a darkness that completely baffled Lewvin's peering eyes but appeared to be no problem to his as he sometimes coaxed Pemmel's horse and sometimes urged it on with slaps, kicks and curses.
After riding for the best part of an hour they came into a clearing where several fires gave out enough light for Lewvin to see that they were in a rough encampment of skin tents and shelters made from branches.
Lewvin was to discover soon enough that they had been brought into the camp of Kiereg, leader of one of the numerous out-law bands that infested the vast forests of Sair. He was a short, powerfully-built man with black hair done into a plait that reached half way down his back. The lower part of his right ear was missing, and a scar that extended right along his jaw as far as his chin suggested how he might have lost it. He told Lewvin that he could arrange for her to be escorted to the Istin border, but how much could she pay him?
Lewvin said that they had had to leave Felewith in a great hurry and had been able to bring very little gold with them.
Kiereg looked at her quizzically. That was very unfortunate, he said, and Lewvin was suddenly horrified by what she had just told him, for surely he would realise that he had much to gain, and nothing to lose, by "selling" Chaldez to their enemies in Felewith.
She did, she corrected herself hurriedly, have some gold. Kiereg burst out laughing, and produced in one hand the purse of gold and in the other the two jewels. Their lives, he asked, in exchange for the gold and trinkets? Keep the gold, Lewvin told him, but without the ruby and ring their flight was pointless; he might as well kill them there and then.
He looked down at the two objects, and then tossed them to her. They would be leaving, he said, in the morning; time enough for her to show him how the ladies at the court of King Egmar were taught to give a man pleasure. Or would she prefer to entertain his followers?
She looked around her and saw that she and Kiereg were surrounded by on-lookers. Some were leering and nudging one another; others simply looked on inquisitively.
Never before had she experienced such a sensation of dread as now suddenly possessed her; she thought her legs would give way; her body was shaking convulsively and bathed in sweat. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and barely more than a whisper. "No" she said.
Kiereg cupped his ear theatrically. "What?" he demanded.
The moment of panic passed. Lewvin looked again at the figures surrounding her. Horror and fear still gripped her, but not as powerfully as a moment ago. In her cooler state of mind she was able to take in more, and she noticed now that there were some women among the men. She felt a moment's relief, but was quickly aware that there was no hint of sympathy in their expressions, only an intense, cruel excitement. Far from restraining their men, these women would goad them on, and this realisation filled her with rage. She spoke clearly and confidently, her head held high. "If I am to be ravished and murdered in the camp of Kiereg," she declared, "the gods will know why. Let Tin Wina be your judge."
Kiereg was taken aback by this. He said "you are safe with Kiereg. Come," and he led the way through the circle to his tent. "I'll have you tonight," he said, ushering her inside. "You can show Kiereg he is right in thinking you're too good for that lot out there."
Lewvin endured his rough love-making with something like detached indifference, as though she were watching from a distance the things he was doing to her. He grunted and humped, the urgency of his lust overwhelming his conscious being, and she felt immeasurably superior.
Their guide the next day was a tall, rangy man with red hair. He was known as the Fox. He had with him three other men, and Lewvin took these to be their escort. Their appearance was as uncouth as she had come to expect of Kiereg's men, and their language was coarse and vile. She assumed they knew about the ruby and Shansi's ring, and she wondered bleakly what their chances of survival were in the company of such men.
As before, she and the nurse and Chaldez were mounted on the horse they had brought from Felewith. The Fox and his companions were on foot, but this proved to be no handicap for they covered the ground rapidly.
By the end of the first day Lewvin was gaining confidence; the men were rough, but deferential towards Chaldez and his nurse to whom they were as polite as they probably knew how to be. Lewvin herself they more or less disregarded. That night they ate well and she slept soundly. By mid-morning of the fourth day of their flight from Felewith they were crossing the stream that marks the Istin border. By evening Segga was welcoming them to his great hall at Hissad, his tiny capital.
CHAPTER NINE
In Felewith Egmar had let it be known that his tour of Sembfrid was indefinitely postponed.
Immediately following Shansi's suicide and the disappearance of Chaldez, he had appeared to be unaffected; but in reality his emotions were frozen by incomprehension. Slowly the outward coolness gave way to grief; the grief to anger and the anger to a numbness, so that nothing seemed real.
Urged on by Garapu and others of the council, he had instituted a search for Chaldez, concentrating on the country between Felewith and Fromond, for it was assumed that Shansi had hoped to hide the prince on her estate there, or perhaps, even, over the border among friends in Kroya. The fact that the two Kroyans had gone missing at the same time as the prince also pointed to this possibility. It was Morvina who had suggested that he spread the net to the eastern part of the kingdom.
Everyone whom Shansi had been seen with in the last days before her death was summoned before the council and questioned. Skripshi's turn came when it was reported that he had been seen in conversation with her while she was inspecting her new horse.
He told the council that she had asked his advice about the forthcoming visit to Sembfrid. The king was immediately alert. "What sort of advice?" he demanded.
Skripshi said: "She was anxious about it. She seemed to be under the impression that your majesty would be in danger if you undertook it."
"And . . . ?"
"I told her that it was a a part of the kingdom in which Queen Morvina had close ties, and that if there was any danger she would surely have got to hear about it and have informed your majesty's council."
"What did she say to that?"
"She seemed not to be very reassured, your Majesty."
"She was mad, of course. You were aware of that?"
"On the contrary, she struck me as being perfectly well."
"And yet capable of believing that my council, or indeed Queen Morvina, could be indifferent to my safety?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"What reasons could she have for believing such a monstrous thing?"
"I do not know, your majesty. I never had the opportunity of finding out."
Egmar irritably dismissed Skripshi. He had found him to be a most unsatisfactory witness, with an answer for everything, and yet with no answers at all.
That evening, the second after the disappearance of Chaldez, the king's personal attendant brought him a bundle of documents. Egmar sent for his priest to read them to him, and was astonished by what he heard.
They were letters to Rilt of Sembfrid, and they referred to the projected royal visit to his province, asking if the arrangements were in hand. Egmar listened without much interest until he heard the name of Histek, the bandit. The letter-writer wanted confirmation that he had been contacted and knew where and when to take action. There was also reference to payment, the enormous sum of 10,000 karas being mentioned.
"Your intermediary," read the priest, "must inform Histek that what he asks for is out of the question. Ten thousand karas is our limit. If he will not agree we will find someone else who will."
Another letter referred in the most disparaging terms to "that foreign hussy who calls herself 'queen'," to the "brat" Chaldez and to "the strutting fool who is king of this unhappy land."
When he heard this last description Egmar shouted "STOP! Who wrote that?"
His priest could only shake his head. Egmar yelled for his attendant and demanded to know the exact details of how he had come by the letters. The servant, shaking with terror, said he had been called to the gates of the royal compound where he had been handed them by a hooded figure whose face he never saw. The only words to pass were the terse instruction to "see that these reach the king."
Egmar dismissed his priest and his servant, and sat staring at the documents. He was muttering to himself, and the words he repeated over and over to himself were: "strutting fool! A strutting fool!"
He began to wonder afresh about Shansi: was it possible that she had known something; might she not have been mad after all? Had a trap really been laid for them in Sembfrid? He wondered about Histek: could Shansi have been right there as well; had Byrat lied about the bandit and his followers perishing in Morden Mire? Was any of this possible? And who had written these letters to Rilt? Surely not one of his counsellors? That was inconceivable - or was it? It had to be someone close enough to have known in advance about the Sembfrid visit, and someone who could raise 10,000 karas. That had to point to a nobleman, and almost certainly a member of the council.
Egmar refilled his goblet with wine and resolved to speak to Skripshi again; perhaps this time the old man would be more helpful.
Egmar never did see Skripshi again. The old man's mutilated body was found the next day in an alley in the town. He had been bludgeoned and stabbed many times. According to his servant, a messenger had called on him the previous evening. After speaking with him in private, Skripshi had said he had some urgent business to attend to, and he had left hurriedly.
Egmar felt thwarted. He summoned Garapu, whom he had come to rely upon especially. He told him to find out why Skripshi might have been lured to his death.
Garapu looked at his sovereign with an air of astonishment. Surely he knew about Skripshi?
"Know what about him? What do you mean?" Egmar demanded.
"I thought it was common knowledge," replied Garapu, "that he enjoyed young girls. I mean young girls."
Egmar shook his head in disbelief.
"Ten-year-olds; eleven-year-olds. You must have known, your majesty."
"I did not know it," Egmar retorted. "And I don't see what it has to do with what happened last night."
"Indeed, it may have nothing to do with it," said Garapu, "but there are people who find that sort of thing offensive. Predilections of that kind are rarely safe. I would say Skripshi got what was coming to him. The wonder is, frankly, that it didn't happen sooner."
Bewildered, but not wishing to show it, Egmar decided to raise the subject of the letters. Garapu listened to him, a half-amused expression on his face; he looked stern, however, when the king repeated the scandalous description of himself.
"I have the letters," Egmar concluded. "You can see them."
Garapu waved his hand and shook his head. No, he had no wish to see them. "I must assume," he said, "that they are no more than a very bad joke. No one could possibly describe you in such disgraceful terms and be serious. Someone, perhaps, who wishes to hurt you composed them, and then ensured that you should see them. By purporting to reveal some sort of plot it was likely you would take them seriously, and the insult would be all the more wounding. It might seem unlikely that you could have an enemy as vituperative as that, but I believe it quite possible for a personage such as yourself to give rise to insane jealousies, and jealousy, sire, is the mother of wickedness. You must surely know that there is not a woman in your realm who does not ache for the pleasures of your bed. Such inordinate attraction can make for very jealous husbands!"
Egmar had to concede that what his trusted counsellor was saying made sense. In which case Shansi had been mad; he had been right all along.
He told Garapu that there was no need for the citizens of Felewith to know of Skripshi's shameful secret; he would be buried with honour, he said, and he asked Garapu to make the necessary arrangements.
Three days after Skripshi's funeral, Egmar himself was dead. His wine had been poisoned. He died in protracted agony.
Queen Morvina sent immediately for Sigmar, the defeated Nwodek of Laifya. The crown of Sair Jisenner, she told him, was his for the taking.
Immediately following Shansi's suicide and the disappearance of Chaldez, he had appeared to be unaffected; but in reality his emotions were frozen by incomprehension. Slowly the outward coolness gave way to grief; the grief to anger and the anger to a numbness, so that nothing seemed real.
Urged on by Garapu and others of the council, he had instituted a search for Chaldez, concentrating on the country between Felewith and Fromond, for it was assumed that Shansi had hoped to hide the prince on her estate there, or perhaps, even, over the border among friends in Kroya. The fact that the two Kroyans had gone missing at the same time as the prince also pointed to this possibility. It was Morvina who had suggested that he spread the net to the eastern part of the kingdom.
Everyone whom Shansi had been seen with in the last days before her death was summoned before the council and questioned. Skripshi's turn came when it was reported that he had been seen in conversation with her while she was inspecting her new horse.
He told the council that she had asked his advice about the forthcoming visit to Sembfrid. The king was immediately alert. "What sort of advice?" he demanded.
Skripshi said: "She was anxious about it. She seemed to be under the impression that your majesty would be in danger if you undertook it."
"And . . . ?"
"I told her that it was a a part of the kingdom in which Queen Morvina had close ties, and that if there was any danger she would surely have got to hear about it and have informed your majesty's council."
"What did she say to that?"
"She seemed not to be very reassured, your Majesty."
"She was mad, of course. You were aware of that?"
"On the contrary, she struck me as being perfectly well."
"And yet capable of believing that my council, or indeed Queen Morvina, could be indifferent to my safety?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"What reasons could she have for believing such a monstrous thing?"
"I do not know, your majesty. I never had the opportunity of finding out."
Egmar irritably dismissed Skripshi. He had found him to be a most unsatisfactory witness, with an answer for everything, and yet with no answers at all.
That evening, the second after the disappearance of Chaldez, the king's personal attendant brought him a bundle of documents. Egmar sent for his priest to read them to him, and was astonished by what he heard.
They were letters to Rilt of Sembfrid, and they referred to the projected royal visit to his province, asking if the arrangements were in hand. Egmar listened without much interest until he heard the name of Histek, the bandit. The letter-writer wanted confirmation that he had been contacted and knew where and when to take action. There was also reference to payment, the enormous sum of 10,000 karas being mentioned.
"Your intermediary," read the priest, "must inform Histek that what he asks for is out of the question. Ten thousand karas is our limit. If he will not agree we will find someone else who will."
Another letter referred in the most disparaging terms to "that foreign hussy who calls herself 'queen'," to the "brat" Chaldez and to "the strutting fool who is king of this unhappy land."
When he heard this last description Egmar shouted "STOP! Who wrote that?"
His priest could only shake his head. Egmar yelled for his attendant and demanded to know the exact details of how he had come by the letters. The servant, shaking with terror, said he had been called to the gates of the royal compound where he had been handed them by a hooded figure whose face he never saw. The only words to pass were the terse instruction to "see that these reach the king."
Egmar dismissed his priest and his servant, and sat staring at the documents. He was muttering to himself, and the words he repeated over and over to himself were: "strutting fool! A strutting fool!"
He began to wonder afresh about Shansi: was it possible that she had known something; might she not have been mad after all? Had a trap really been laid for them in Sembfrid? He wondered about Histek: could Shansi have been right there as well; had Byrat lied about the bandit and his followers perishing in Morden Mire? Was any of this possible? And who had written these letters to Rilt? Surely not one of his counsellors? That was inconceivable - or was it? It had to be someone close enough to have known in advance about the Sembfrid visit, and someone who could raise 10,000 karas. That had to point to a nobleman, and almost certainly a member of the council.
Egmar refilled his goblet with wine and resolved to speak to Skripshi again; perhaps this time the old man would be more helpful.
Egmar never did see Skripshi again. The old man's mutilated body was found the next day in an alley in the town. He had been bludgeoned and stabbed many times. According to his servant, a messenger had called on him the previous evening. After speaking with him in private, Skripshi had said he had some urgent business to attend to, and he had left hurriedly.
Egmar felt thwarted. He summoned Garapu, whom he had come to rely upon especially. He told him to find out why Skripshi might have been lured to his death.
Garapu looked at his sovereign with an air of astonishment. Surely he knew about Skripshi?
"Know what about him? What do you mean?" Egmar demanded.
"I thought it was common knowledge," replied Garapu, "that he enjoyed young girls. I mean young girls."
Egmar shook his head in disbelief.
"Ten-year-olds; eleven-year-olds. You must have known, your majesty."
"I did not know it," Egmar retorted. "And I don't see what it has to do with what happened last night."
"Indeed, it may have nothing to do with it," said Garapu, "but there are people who find that sort of thing offensive. Predilections of that kind are rarely safe. I would say Skripshi got what was coming to him. The wonder is, frankly, that it didn't happen sooner."
Bewildered, but not wishing to show it, Egmar decided to raise the subject of the letters. Garapu listened to him, a half-amused expression on his face; he looked stern, however, when the king repeated the scandalous description of himself.
"I have the letters," Egmar concluded. "You can see them."
Garapu waved his hand and shook his head. No, he had no wish to see them. "I must assume," he said, "that they are no more than a very bad joke. No one could possibly describe you in such disgraceful terms and be serious. Someone, perhaps, who wishes to hurt you composed them, and then ensured that you should see them. By purporting to reveal some sort of plot it was likely you would take them seriously, and the insult would be all the more wounding. It might seem unlikely that you could have an enemy as vituperative as that, but I believe it quite possible for a personage such as yourself to give rise to insane jealousies, and jealousy, sire, is the mother of wickedness. You must surely know that there is not a woman in your realm who does not ache for the pleasures of your bed. Such inordinate attraction can make for very jealous husbands!"
Egmar had to concede that what his trusted counsellor was saying made sense. In which case Shansi had been mad; he had been right all along.
He told Garapu that there was no need for the citizens of Felewith to know of Skripshi's shameful secret; he would be buried with honour, he said, and he asked Garapu to make the necessary arrangements.
Three days after Skripshi's funeral, Egmar himself was dead. His wine had been poisoned. He died in protracted agony.
Queen Morvina sent immediately for Sigmar, the defeated Nwodek of Laifya. The crown of Sair Jisenner, she told him, was his for the taking.
CHAPTER TEN
THE PROMISE
Sigmar's arrival in the capital was the occasion for great festivities. The mob turned out to hail him, aware, perhaps, that here was a ruler who would make them proud of being Sairians. On the council's behalf Garapu offered him the crown, and the other counsellors could not wait, it seemed, to swear oaths of loyalty.
When Sigmar asked Garapu how Egmar had died he was told that a broken heart had deprived him of the will to live. "He never got over the tragic suicide of his queen," he said.
Sigmar had already been told that Shansi had killed herself in a moment of insane grief following the death of Chaldez.
Morvina, meanwhile, had received information that a search party had encountered Pemmel in the Tew valley. She was certain now that the fugitive prince had been on his way to Segga of Istin. At the time of the naming ceremony she had noted the attention being paid by Segga to Shansi, and she was aware that he and Egmar were related. She sent a spy to Istin, and expected to hear from him any day.
One of the people whom Sigmar had brought with him from Laifya was his shrewd and wily scribe by the name of Lam. Lam it was who first told him of the rumours that the official versions accounting for the deaths of Chaldez, Shansi and Egmar were lies.
Sigmar waited until after his coronation, and then sent for Garapu. He told him what he had heard, and that he wanted to know the truth: Garapu was to uncover it, and report back.
The following day Morvina made a point of seeing her son. He was with Lam and Hiera, a counsellor, and the Lord Vanchis, a Laifyan nobleman who had allied himself to Sigmar's cause, and thanks to his defeat was now destitute. Morvina curtly dismissed them, and Sigmar was astonished by the way the elderly Hiera, who had served his father for years, meekly bowed and left. Vanchis and Lam looked to Sigmar for his consent. He nodded and they went too.
Morvina's look of disapproval suggested that she resented their deferment to her son. When they were gone she said: "I am a bit surprised. Surprised and disappointed."
Sigmar smiled innocently.
"You have been given a full account of the events here that led up to my rescuing you from ignominy, but it seems you are not satisfied?"
"I am more than satisfied," said Sigmar. "But I have heard rumours . . . "
"Rumours!" cried his mother. "There are always rumours. Take no notice of rumours."
" You have heard them?"
"Indeed I have! I have even heard that Chaldez is not dead! I saw his corpse with my own eyes! Am I supposed not to know my own grandchild?"
"Not your grandchild, mother."
"If you want to be pedantic, no, not my grandchild. But did I not know him as well as if he had been? Did I not visit him every day? Did I not dandle him on my knee?"
Sigmar let the matter rest. After she had gone he summoned Garapu again. He began by thanking him for his loyalty. Garapu was modest; he protested that it was his privilege to serve such a king as Sigmar; how could he be anything but loyal?
"I wasn't thanking you for your loyalty to me," cut in Sigmar, "but to my mother. You have served her well, but now that I am in Felewith you may consider yourself absolved from the obligation you undertook after my father's death - your promise to defend my mother's interests."
He paused, then went on: "The counsellors who served my father and my brother won't do for me. You understand that? But you, Garapu, I am undecided about. I wonder if it would be to the advantage of the crown to have both you and your son Saminad serving it as counsellors - or should I let you retire to your estates?"
He studied Garapu's face for a reaction, and Garapu was betraying his anxiety. He knew what a great distinction - perhaps a unique one - was being held out, and he was aware of the influence, power and wealth that would accrue to the family as a result of it. Huskily he said: "You may count on my loyalty, Sire."
"Good!" exclaimed Sigmar. "In that case you will tell me, now, about the circumstances surrounding the deaths of Egmar, his wife and their son."
Garapu, uneasily at first, but gaining confidence and fluency as he proceeded, told Sigmar all he knew, including the fact that Chaldez had probably been taken, in the first place anyway, to Segga of Istin.
Sigmar did not immediately make use of this information; uppermost in his mind was the task of removing from his council the elderly noblemen, with the exception of Garapu, who had put his father on the throne, and supported his mother's interests when she was widowed. Their places were to be taken by the young men who had shared his Laifyan adventure with him, and whom he now wished to reward for their loyalty. If he could also present them with estates of their own in his new kingdom their continuing loyalty might be assured. He therefore began to make a series of impossible demands upon the older generation of noblemen so that a number of them were eventually driven to complaining about him, at first, and then to conspiring against him. Because it was precisely what he had expected they were easily exposed. The ringleaders were executed, and their supporters banished. Their estates Sigmar gave to his friends.
Morvina was furious and accused him of murdering his father's most loyal friends. He listened for a while, and then he roared "Silence!" at the top of his voice.
Startled, and a little bit frightened, Morvina was silenced, and when he next spoke it was very softly: "Murderer?" he said. "I am no murderer; but you, mother, have made me a usurper. You gave me a crown that was not mine to take, and in doing so condemned me to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the rightful heir. I speak of Chaldez, a year old by now, and with every year that passes a more potent threat to my life and my position."
Morvina's eyes filled with tears.
Sigmar said: "I cannot spend my life guarding my back; there is too much else to be done. Few people in this kingdom realise it yet, but a great power is gathering in the west, a storm cloud that will break over us and carry us into oblivion. Our little cares, our petty schemes will count for nothing then. I speak of war-like and terrible barbarians who are even now overwhelming the Laifyans. They thought I was their enemy, but in truth I was their salvation for I would have united them and made them strong. Without me, Laifya is no longer a bulwark between the peoples of Sair and their destroyers. My destiny is to make Sair mighty enough to throw back the barbarian hordes, as once it threw back the oppressors of the Sei Empire. The petty rulers of Sair Jy-Din will acknowledge the king of Sair Jisenner as their paramount lord; I will see to it! This kingdom will be as great and powerful as it ever was under Bedekka, or it will be wiped from the face of the earth." Sigmar paused; he was not accustomed to making speeches, and he wished to observe the effect this one was having upon his mother.
She was gazing at him with something like awe.
He went on; "How can I do the great things that are demanded of me if I must spend time and energy hunting for a mere child? Yet find him I must."
Morvina touched her son's arm. "He is as good as found," she said. "Every day I get closer - do you think my people have not been searching for him night and day? This is my responsibility; I beg you, allow me to discharge it."
Sigmar looked at her doubtfully. "You have the means?"
"Of course. If Chaldez is alive, I will find him. You need not be troubled by thoughts of him. His existence, my son, is over."
Sigmar's arrival in the capital was the occasion for great festivities. The mob turned out to hail him, aware, perhaps, that here was a ruler who would make them proud of being Sairians. On the council's behalf Garapu offered him the crown, and the other counsellors could not wait, it seemed, to swear oaths of loyalty.
When Sigmar asked Garapu how Egmar had died he was told that a broken heart had deprived him of the will to live. "He never got over the tragic suicide of his queen," he said.
Sigmar had already been told that Shansi had killed herself in a moment of insane grief following the death of Chaldez.
Morvina, meanwhile, had received information that a search party had encountered Pemmel in the Tew valley. She was certain now that the fugitive prince had been on his way to Segga of Istin. At the time of the naming ceremony she had noted the attention being paid by Segga to Shansi, and she was aware that he and Egmar were related. She sent a spy to Istin, and expected to hear from him any day.
One of the people whom Sigmar had brought with him from Laifya was his shrewd and wily scribe by the name of Lam. Lam it was who first told him of the rumours that the official versions accounting for the deaths of Chaldez, Shansi and Egmar were lies.
Sigmar waited until after his coronation, and then sent for Garapu. He told him what he had heard, and that he wanted to know the truth: Garapu was to uncover it, and report back.
The following day Morvina made a point of seeing her son. He was with Lam and Hiera, a counsellor, and the Lord Vanchis, a Laifyan nobleman who had allied himself to Sigmar's cause, and thanks to his defeat was now destitute. Morvina curtly dismissed them, and Sigmar was astonished by the way the elderly Hiera, who had served his father for years, meekly bowed and left. Vanchis and Lam looked to Sigmar for his consent. He nodded and they went too.
Morvina's look of disapproval suggested that she resented their deferment to her son. When they were gone she said: "I am a bit surprised. Surprised and disappointed."
Sigmar smiled innocently.
"You have been given a full account of the events here that led up to my rescuing you from ignominy, but it seems you are not satisfied?"
"I am more than satisfied," said Sigmar. "But I have heard rumours . . . "
"Rumours!" cried his mother. "There are always rumours. Take no notice of rumours."
" You have heard them?"
"Indeed I have! I have even heard that Chaldez is not dead! I saw his corpse with my own eyes! Am I supposed not to know my own grandchild?"
"Not your grandchild, mother."
"If you want to be pedantic, no, not my grandchild. But did I not know him as well as if he had been? Did I not visit him every day? Did I not dandle him on my knee?"
Sigmar let the matter rest. After she had gone he summoned Garapu again. He began by thanking him for his loyalty. Garapu was modest; he protested that it was his privilege to serve such a king as Sigmar; how could he be anything but loyal?
"I wasn't thanking you for your loyalty to me," cut in Sigmar, "but to my mother. You have served her well, but now that I am in Felewith you may consider yourself absolved from the obligation you undertook after my father's death - your promise to defend my mother's interests."
He paused, then went on: "The counsellors who served my father and my brother won't do for me. You understand that? But you, Garapu, I am undecided about. I wonder if it would be to the advantage of the crown to have both you and your son Saminad serving it as counsellors - or should I let you retire to your estates?"
He studied Garapu's face for a reaction, and Garapu was betraying his anxiety. He knew what a great distinction - perhaps a unique one - was being held out, and he was aware of the influence, power and wealth that would accrue to the family as a result of it. Huskily he said: "You may count on my loyalty, Sire."
"Good!" exclaimed Sigmar. "In that case you will tell me, now, about the circumstances surrounding the deaths of Egmar, his wife and their son."
Garapu, uneasily at first, but gaining confidence and fluency as he proceeded, told Sigmar all he knew, including the fact that Chaldez had probably been taken, in the first place anyway, to Segga of Istin.
Sigmar did not immediately make use of this information; uppermost in his mind was the task of removing from his council the elderly noblemen, with the exception of Garapu, who had put his father on the throne, and supported his mother's interests when she was widowed. Their places were to be taken by the young men who had shared his Laifyan adventure with him, and whom he now wished to reward for their loyalty. If he could also present them with estates of their own in his new kingdom their continuing loyalty might be assured. He therefore began to make a series of impossible demands upon the older generation of noblemen so that a number of them were eventually driven to complaining about him, at first, and then to conspiring against him. Because it was precisely what he had expected they were easily exposed. The ringleaders were executed, and their supporters banished. Their estates Sigmar gave to his friends.
Morvina was furious and accused him of murdering his father's most loyal friends. He listened for a while, and then he roared "Silence!" at the top of his voice.
Startled, and a little bit frightened, Morvina was silenced, and when he next spoke it was very softly: "Murderer?" he said. "I am no murderer; but you, mother, have made me a usurper. You gave me a crown that was not mine to take, and in doing so condemned me to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the rightful heir. I speak of Chaldez, a year old by now, and with every year that passes a more potent threat to my life and my position."
Morvina's eyes filled with tears.
Sigmar said: "I cannot spend my life guarding my back; there is too much else to be done. Few people in this kingdom realise it yet, but a great power is gathering in the west, a storm cloud that will break over us and carry us into oblivion. Our little cares, our petty schemes will count for nothing then. I speak of war-like and terrible barbarians who are even now overwhelming the Laifyans. They thought I was their enemy, but in truth I was their salvation for I would have united them and made them strong. Without me, Laifya is no longer a bulwark between the peoples of Sair and their destroyers. My destiny is to make Sair mighty enough to throw back the barbarian hordes, as once it threw back the oppressors of the Sei Empire. The petty rulers of Sair Jy-Din will acknowledge the king of Sair Jisenner as their paramount lord; I will see to it! This kingdom will be as great and powerful as it ever was under Bedekka, or it will be wiped from the face of the earth." Sigmar paused; he was not accustomed to making speeches, and he wished to observe the effect this one was having upon his mother.
She was gazing at him with something like awe.
He went on; "How can I do the great things that are demanded of me if I must spend time and energy hunting for a mere child? Yet find him I must."
Morvina touched her son's arm. "He is as good as found," she said. "Every day I get closer - do you think my people have not been searching for him night and day? This is my responsibility; I beg you, allow me to discharge it."
Sigmar looked at her doubtfully. "You have the means?"
"Of course. If Chaldez is alive, I will find him. You need not be troubled by thoughts of him. His existence, my son, is over."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)