Lyam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “There is so much yet to write. I have said nothing about Martin.”
Kulgan took up a quill. “I will copy this again, for your pen is a bit strangled, Lyam.” With a warm smile he added, “You were always one to prefer the sword to the quill. I’ll add some instructions to the end, asking that Martin go to Krondor with your sister. Gardan and Fannon should also make the journey. And an honor company of the castle garrison. It will make it seem you mean to honor those who served so well in Crydee. Then you will have ample time to decide how to tell Martin what you must.”
Pug shook his head sadly. “I only wish you could add Roland’s name to that list.” Since coming to the camp, he had learned of the Squire of Tulan’s death. Kulgan had told him of what he knew of events in Crydee and elsewhere concerning his old friends over the last few years.
Lyam said, “Curse me for a fool! Carline has no idea you are back, Pug. You must add that, Kulgan.”
Pug said, “I hope it will not come as too much of a shock.”
Kulgan chuckled. “Not so much of a shock as discovering you’ve a wife and child.”
Memories of his boyhood and his tempestuous relationship with the Princess returned, and Pug said, “I hope also she has outgrown some of the notions she held nine years ago.”
Lyam laughed for the first time since his father’s death, genuinely entertained by Pug’s discomfort. “Rest assured, Pug I’ve had many long communications with my brother and sister over the years, and I judge Carline a greatly changed young woman from the girl you once knew. She was fifteen years old when last you saw her. Think of your own changes in the last nine years.”
Pug nodded.
Kulgan finished his copy work and handed the document to Lyam. He read it and said, “Thank you, Kulgan. You’ve added just the right note of gentleness.”
The tent flap opened and Brucal entered, his old, lined face animated with glee. “Bas-Tyra’s fled!”
“How?” asked Lyam. “Our soldiers must still be a week from Krondor, maybe more.”
The old Duke sat heavily in a chair. “We found a hidden cage of messenger pigeons, belonging to the late Richard of Salador. One of his men sent word to Guy of Rodric’s death, and your being named Heir. We’ve questioned the fellow, a valet of Richard’s He’s admitted to being one of Bas-Tyra’s spies in Richard’s court. Guy’s fled the city, knowing one of your first acts as King will be to have him hung. My guess is he will make straight for Rillanon.”
“I would have thought that would be the last place on Midkemia he would wish to be,” remarked Kulgan.
“Black Guy is no man’s fool, whatever else may be said of him. He’ll be underground, no doubt, but you’ll see his handiwork again before we are through. Until the crown is resting upon Lyam’s head, Guy is still a power in the Kingdom.”
Lyam looked troubled at the last remark, thinking of his father’s dying declaration. Since Brucal’s admonition to say nothing of Martin, everyone had spoken only of Lyam’s coronation, nothing of Martin’s possible claim to the crown.
Lyam let these disturbing thoughts pass by as Brucal continued speaking: “Still, with Bas-Tyra on the sly, most of our troubles are now behind. And with the war near an end, we can get back to the business of rebuilding the Kingdom. And I for one am glad I am getting too old for much more of this nonsense of war and politics. I only regret I am without a son, so I could announce in his favor and retire.”
Lyam studied Brucal with affectionate disbelief. “You’ll never bow down gracefully, old war dog. You’ll go to your deathbed scratching and clawing every inch of the way, and that day is years off.”
“Who’s talking of dying?” snorted Brucal. “I mean to hunt my hounds and fly my falcons, and do some fishing as well. Who knows? I may find some comely wench hearty enough to keep up with me, say about seventeen or eighteen years of age, and remarry and father a son yet. If that young fool Vandros ever gathers his wits about him and marries my Felinah, you just see how fast he’ll become Duke of Yabon when I retire.
“Why she still waits for him is anybody’s guess.” He heaved himself up from his chair. “I am for a hot bath and some sleep before supper. By your leave?”
Lyam motioned he might leave and, when he was gone, said, “I will never get used to this business of people needing my permission to come and go.”
Pug and Kulgan rose from their chairs. Kulgan said, “You had better, for everyone will ask it of you from now on. With your permission . . . ?”
Feigning disgust, Lyam motioned they might go.
The council sat in assembly as Aglaranna took her place upon the throne. Besides the normal council, Martin Longbow was present, standing beside Tomas. When all were in place, Aglaranna said, “You have asked for council, Tathar. Now tell us what cause you bring before us.”
Tathar bowed slightly to the Queen. “We of the council felt it time for an understanding.”