Magician (Riftware Sage Book 1)

 

As with every dinner over the last few days, there was a hushed mood at the table. The five men of Crydee sat eating in the Duke’s quarters, with palace servants, all wearing the King’s purple-and-gold badge on their dark tunics, hovering nearby.

 

The Duke was chafing to leave Rillanon for the West. Nearly four months had passed since they left Crydee: the entire winter. Spring was upon them, and if the Tsurani were going to attack, as they all believed, it was only a matter of days now. Arutha’s restlessness matched his father’s. Even Kulgan showed signs that the waiting was telling upon him. Only Meecham, who revealed nothing of his feelings, seemed content to wait.

 

Pug also longed for home. He had grown bored in the palace. He wished to be back in his tower with his studies. He also wished to see Carline again, though he didn’t speak of this to anyone. Lately he found himself remembering her in a softer light, forgiving those qualities that had once irritated him. He also knew, with mixed feelings of anticipation, that he might discover the fate of Tomas. Dolgan should soon send word to Crydee, if the thaw came early to the mountains.

 

Borric had endured several more meetings with the King over the last week, each ending unsatisfactorily as far as he was concerned. The last had been hours ago, but he would say nothing about it until the room was emptied of servants.

 

As the last dishes were being cleared away, and the servants were pouring the King’s finest Keshian brandy, a knock came at the door and Duke Caldric entered, waving the servants outside. When the room was cleared, he turned to the Duke.

 

“Borric, I am sorry to interrupt your dining, but I have news.”

 

Borric stood, as did the others. “Please join us. Here, take a glass.”

 

Caldric took the offered brandy and sat in Pug’s chair, while the boy pulled another over. The Duke of Rillanon sipped his brandy and said, “Messengers arrived less than an hour ago from the Duke of Bas-Tyra. Guy expresses alarm over the possibility that the King might be ‘unduly’ distressed by these ‘rumors’ of trouble in the West.”

 

Borric stood and threw his glass across the room, shattering it. Amber fluid dripped down the wall as the Duke of Crydee nearly roared with anger. “What game does Guy play at? What is this talk of rumors and undue distress!”

 

Caldric raised a hand and Borric calmed a little, sitting again. The old Duke said, “I myself penned the King’s call to Guy. Everything you had told, every piece of information and every surmise, was included. I can only think Guy is ensuring that the King reaches no decision until he arrives at the palace.”

 

Borric drummed his fingers on the table and looked at Caldric with anger flashing in his eyes. “What is Bas-Tyra doing? If war comes, it comes to Crydee and Yabon. My people will suffer. My lands will be ravaged.”

 

Caldric shook his head slowly. “I will speak plainly, old friend. Since the estrangement between the King and his uncle, Erland, Guy plays to advance his own banner to primacy in the Kingdom. I think that, should Erland’s health fail, Guy sees himself wearing the purple of Krondor.”

 

Through clenched teeth Borric said, “Then hear me clearly, Caldric. I would not put that burden on myself or mine for any but the highest purpose. But if Erland is as ill as I think, in spite of his claims otherwise, it will be Anita who sits the throne in Krondor, not Black Guy. If I have to march the Armies of the West into Krondor and assume the regency myself, that is what shall be, even should Rodric wish it otherwise. Only if the King has issue will another take the western throne.”

 

Caldric looked at Borric calmly. “And will you be branded traitor to the crown?”

 

Borric slapped the table with his hand. “Curse the day that villain was born. I regret that I must acknowledge him kinsman.”

 

Caldric waited for a minute until Borric calmed down, then said, “I know you better than you know yourself, Borric You would not raise the war banner of the West against the King, though you might happily strangle your cousin Guy. It was always a sad thing for me that the Kingdom’s two finest generals could hate each other so.”