Kulgan said, “At least he seemed in good humor.”
Borric regarded his old adviser. “I fear too good. I expected some sign of alarm. I do not ride across the Kingdom for minor cause, but he seemed unmoved by what I had to tell him.”
Kulgan looked worried “We are overlong on this journey as it is. Let us hope that His Majesty will not take long in deciding upon a course of action.”
Borric sat heavily in a chair and reached for a glass of wine. “Let us hope.”
Pug walked through the door to the King’s private quarters, his mouth dry with anticipation. He was to have his interview with King Rodric in a few minutes, and he was unsettled to be alone with the ruler of the Kingdom. Each time he had been close to other powerful nobles, he had hidden in the shadow of the Duke or his son, coming forward to tell briefly what he knew of the Tsurani, then able to disappear quickly back into the background. Now he was to be the only guest of the most powerful man north of the Empire of Great Kesh.
A house steward showed him through the door to the King’s private balcony Several servants stood around the edge of the large open veranda, and the King occupied the lone table, a carved marble affair under a large canopy.
The day was clear. Spring was coming early, as winter had before it, and there was a hint of warmth in the gusting air. Below the balcony, past the hedges and stone walls that marked its edge, Pug could see the city of Rillanon and the sea beyond. The colorful rooftops shone brightly in the midday sun, as the last snows had melted completely over the last four days. Ships sailed in and out of the harbor, and the streets teemed with citizens. The faint cries of merchants and hawkers, shouting over the noise of the streets, floated up to become a soft buzzing where the King took his midday meal.
As Pug approached the table, a servant pulled out a chair. The King turned and said, “Ah! Squire Pug, please take a seat.” Pug began a bow, and the King said, “Enough. I don’t stand on formality when I dine with a friend.”
Pug hesitated, then said, “Your Majesty honors me,” as he sat.
Rodric waved the comment way. “I remember what it is to be a boy in the company of men. When I was but a little older than you, I took the crown. Until then I was only my father’s son.” His eyes got a distant look for a moment. “The Prince, it’s true, but still only a boy. My opinion counted for nothing, and I never seemed to satisfy my father’s expectations, in hunting, riding, sailing, or swordplay. I took many a hiding from my tutors, Caldric among them. That all changed when I became King, but I still remember what it was like.” He turned toward Pug, and the distant expression vanished as he smiled. “And I do wish us to be friends.” He glanced away and again his expression turned distant. “One can’t have too many friends, now, can one? And since I’m the King, there are so many who claim to be my friend, but aren’t.” He was silent a moment, then again came out of his revery. “What do you think of my city?”
Pug said, “I have never seen anything like it, Majesty. It’s wonderful.”
Rodric looked out across the vista before them. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He waved a hand, and a servant poured wine into crystal goblets. Pug sipped at his; he still hadn’t developed a taste for wine, but found this very good, light and fruity with a hint of spices. Rodric said, “I have tried very hard to make Rillanon a wonderful place for those who live here. I would have the day come when all the cities of the Kingdom are as fine as this, where everywhere the eye travels, there is beauty. It would take a hundred lifetimes to do that, so I can only set the pattern, building an example for those who follow to imitate. But where I find brick, I leave marble. And those who see it will know it for what it is— my legacy.”
The King seemed to ramble a bit, and Pug wasn’t sure of all that he was saying as he continued to talk about buildings and gardens and removing ugliness from view. Abruptly the King changed topics. “Tell me how you killed the trolls.”
Pug told him, and the King seemed to hang on every word. When the boy had finished, the King said, “That is a wonderful tale. It is better than the versions that have reached the court, for while it is not half so heroic, it is twice as impressive for being true. You have a stout heart, Squire Pug.”
Pug said, “Thank you, Majesty.”
Rodric said, “In your tale you mentioned the Princess Carline.”
“Yes, Majesty?”
“I have not seen her since she was a baby in her mother’s arms. What sort of woman has she become?”
Pug found the shift in topic surprising, but said, “She has become a beautiful woman, Majesty, much like her mother. She is bright and quick, if given to a little temper.”
The King nodded. “Her mother was a beautiful woman. If the daughter is half as lovely, she is lovely indeed. Can she reason?”
Pug looked confused. “Majesty?”