Anita smiled. “Arutha’s anxious for another to become Prince of Krondor.”
Carline looked at her brother knowingly. “Still, you’ll not be done with matters of state. With Caldiic dead, Lyam will rely more upon you and Martin than before.” Lord Caldric of Rillanon had died shortly after the King’s marriage to Princess Magda of Roldem, leaving the office of Duke of Rillanon, Royal Chancellor - First Adviser to the King - vacant.
Arutha shrugged as he sampled food from his plate. “I think he’ll find no end of applicants for Caldric’s office.”
Laurie said, “That’s exactly the problem. Too many nobles are seeking advantage over their neighbours. We’ve had three sizeable border skirmishes between barons in the East - not anything to have Lyam send out his own army, but enough to make everyone east of Malac’s Cross nervous. That’s why Bas-Tyra is still without a duke. It’s too powerful a duchy for Lyam to hand over to just anyone. If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself named Duke of Krondor or Bas-Tyra should Magda give birth to a boy.”
Carline said, “Enough. This is a holiday. I’ll have no more politics tonight.”
Anita took Arutha’s arm. “Come along. We’ve had a good meal, there’s a festival underway, and the babies are blessedly asleep. Besides,” she added with a laugh, “tomorrow we have to start worrying over how we pay for this festival and the Festival of Banapis next month. Tonight we enjoy what we have.”
Jimmy managed to insinuate himself next to the Prince and said, “Would your Highness be interested in viewing a contest?” Locklear and he exchanged worried glances, for the time for the game to begin was past.
Anita threw her husband a questioning glance. Arutha said, “I promised Jimmy we’d go and see the barrel-ball match he’s conspired to have played today.”
Laurie said, “That might be more entertaining than another round of jugglers and actors.”
“That’s only because most of your life has been spent around jugglers and actors,” said Carline. “When I was a girl, it was considered the thing to sit and watch the boys beat each other to death in a barrel-ball game every Sixthday, while pretending not to watch. I’ll take the actors and jugglers.”
Anita said, “Why don’t you two go along with the boys? We’re all informal today. We’ll join you later in the great hall for the evening entertainment.”
Laurie and Arutha agreed and followed the boys through the throng. They left the central courtyard of the palace and passed along a series of halls connecting the central palace complex with outer buildings. Behind the palace stood a large marshalling yard, near the stables, where the palace guards drilled. A large crowd had gathered and was cheering lustily when Arutha, Laurie, Jimmy and Locklear arrived. They worked their way toward the front, jostling spectators. A few turned to complain to those shoving past but, seeing the Prince, said nothing.
A place was made for them behind those squires not playing. Arutha waved to Gardan, who stood on the other side of the field with a squad of off-duty soldiers. Laurie watched the play a moment and said, “This is a lot more organized than I remember.”
Arutha said, “It’s deLacy’s doing. He wrote up rules for the game, after complaining to me about the number of boys too beat up to work after a match.” He pointed. “See that fellow with the sandglass? He times the contest. The game lasts an hour now. Only a dozen boys to a side at a time, and they must play between those chalk lines on the ground. Jimmy, what are the other rules?”
Jimmy was stripping off his belt and dagger in preparation. He said, “No hands, like always. When one side scores, it falls back past the midpoint line and the other side gets to bring the ball up. No biting, grabbing an opponent, or weapons allowed.”
Laurie said, “No weapons? Sounds too tame for me.”
Locklear had already rid himself of his overtunic and belt and tapped another squire on the shoulder. “What’s the score?”
The squire never took his eyes from play. A stableboy, driving the ball before him with his feet, was tripped by one of Jimmy’s teammates, but the ball was intercepted by a baker’s apprentice, who deftly kicked it into one of the two barrels situated at each end of the compound. The squire groaned. “That puts them ahead four counts to two. And we’ve less than a quarter hour to play.”