Magician (Riftware Sage Book 1)

Arutha was speechless for a moment, in shock as he regarded Lyam. For the first time he understood the terrible doubts his brother had been voicing over being King. “You don’t want to be King,” he said, his tone accusatory.

 

Lyam laughed bitterly. “No sane man would. You have said as much yourself, brother. I don’t know if I am a match for the burdens of kingship. But the matter is out of my hands now. If Martin speaks for himself as King, I will acknowledge his right.”

 

“His right! The royal, signet passed to your hand, before most of the Lords of the Kingdom. You are not sick Erland deferring to his brother’s son because of ill health and by reason of no clear succession. You are the named Heir!”

 

Lyam lowered his head. “The announcement of succession is invalid, Arutha. Rodric named me Heir as ‘eldest conDoin male,’ which I am not. Martin is.”

 

Arutha confronted his brother. “A pretty point of law, Lyam, but one that may prove the destruction of this Kingdom! Should Martin voice a claim before the congress assembled, the Priests of Ishap will break the crown, and the matter passes to the Congress of Lords for resolution. Even with Guy in hiding, there are dozens of dukes, scores of earls, and a host of barons who would willingly cut their neighbors’ throats to convene such a congress. Such bargaining would end with half the estates in the Kingdom switching hands in trade for votes. It would be a carnival!

 

“If you take the crown, Bas-Tyra cannot act. But if you back Martin, many will refuse to follow. A deadlocked congress is exactly what Guy wishes. I’ll bet all I own he is somewhere in the city at this very moment, plotting against such an event. If the eastern lords bolt, Guy will emerge, and many will flock to his banner.”

 

Lyam appeared overwhelmed by his brother’s words. “I cannot say what will happen, Arutha. But I know I could not do other than I have done.”

 

Arutha looked on the verge of striking Lya.m “You may have inherited the burden of Father’s sense of family honor, but it will fall to the rest of us to deal with the killing! Heaven’s mercy, Lyam, what do you think will happen if some heretofore nameless huntsman sits the conDoin throne simply because our father tumbled a pretty maid nearly forty years ago! We shall have civil war!”

 

Lyam stood firm. “Should our positions have been reversed, would you have robbed Martin of his birthright?”

 

Arutha’s anger vanished. He looked at his brother with open amazement on his face. “Gods! You feel guilt because Father denied Martin all his life, don’t you?” He stepped away from Lyam, as if trying to gain perspective on him. “Should our positions have been reversed, I most assuredly would deny Martin his birthright. After thirty-seven years, what matter a few more days? After I was King, firm on my throne, then I would make him a duke, give him an army to command, name him First Adviser, whatever need be to salve my conscience, but not until the Kingdom was secure. I would not wish Martin to play Borric the First to Guy’s Jon the Pretender, and I would do whatever must be done to see that would not come to pass.”

 

Lyam sighed with deep regret. “Then you and I are two different sorts of men, Arutha. I told you back at camp I thought you would make a better king than I. Perhaps you are right, but what’s done is done.”

 

“Does Brucal know of this?”

 

“Only we three.” He looked directly at Arutha “Only our father’s sons.”

 

Arutha flushed, irritated at the remark. “Don’t misunderstand me, Lyam. I hold Martin in no little affection, but there are issues here much larger than any personal consideration.” He thought quietly for a moment. “Then it is in Martin’s hands. If you had to do this, at least you did right in not making it a public matter. There will be shock enough should Martin come forth at the coronation. At least with advance warning we can prepare.”

 

Arutha moved toward the stairs, then stopped and faced his brother. “What you said cuts both ways, Lyam. Perhaps because you cannot deny Martin, you’ll make a better king than I. But as much as I love you, I’ll not let the Kingdom be destroyed over the succession.”

 

Lyam seemed unable to contest with his brother any longer. Fatigue, a weary resignation toward what fate would bring, sounded in his words. “What will you do?”

 

“What must be done. I will ensure that those who are loyal to us are forewarned. If there comes a need to fight, then let us have the advantage of surprise.” He paused for a moment. “I have nothing but the greatest affection for Martin, Lyam, you must know that I hunted with him as a boy, and he was in no small part responsible for my safely getting Anita away from Guy’s watchdogs, a debt beyond repaying. In another time and place, I would gladly accept him as my brother. But should it come to bloodshed, Lyam, I’ll willingly kill him.”

 

Arutha left the vault of his ancestors. Lyam stood alone, feeling the chill of ages press in upon him.