“What Minister Rendborne says is true,” Corwin said in a raised voice, commanding immediate silence. He drew a breath and plowed on. “In my travels I have discovered a weapon that will change the face of Rime forever, one so powerful it may one day end the plague of the drakes, both in the night and the day.”
He paused and turned back the way he’d come, scanning the crowd for Bonner, Signe, and Kate. He spotted them lurking on the edge of the courtyard with Dal. “Miss Brighton, Miss Leth, Master Bonner, please come here,” Corwin called.
A look of horror came over Kate’s face, and Corwin guessed that if he’d been near enough, she might have murdered him where he stood. But she couldn’t refuse him, not in front of so many watching eyes. With Bonner leading the way, the three approached the fountain.
The silence from a moment before shattered as the people recognized Kate. Corwin heard her name spoken over and over again in worried, hostile tones. Kate Brighton . . . the traitor’s daughter . . . Traitor Kate. He heard his own unofficial title uttered as well, the Errant Prince. Anger churned in his stomach. He’d promised Kate he would protect her from this very thing; he’d assured her she would be welcomed back.
“And I mean to see it done,” he said under his breath. Although she might indeed kill him for it later, Corwin called for Kate to come stand beside him on the fountain.
Once Kate was up and visible to the entire crowd, Corwin spoke again in the loudest, most kingly voice he could muster—a voice that no one would dare contradict or disrespect. “Kate Brighton, daughter of the traitor Hale, saved my life on the road from Farhold to Andreas when my caravan was attacked by an entire pack of these daydrakes.”
He paused to sweep his gaze over the crowd. Dozens of eyes stared back at him—ladies in elegantly embroidered day dresses with parasols over their shoulders, noblemen with clean-shaved faces and bejeweled daggers at their waists, servants and guards in their uniforms. He held them all as equal in his gaze.
“I owe her a blood debt great enough to have canceled out any transgressions she herself can be held accountable for.” None of which were hers to begin with, he added in his mind. “Let it be known to everyone assembled here and throughout all of Norgard that Kate Brighton is no longer an enemy to the high king.”
Corwin stopped speaking and waited for the crowd to respond, but only silence and icy stares met his proclamation.
That was until Edwin stepped forward and said, “I, for one, am proud to welcome her back.” He took hold of Kate’s hand, and she stiffened, lips pinched tight as he raised her knuckles to his mouth to kiss them. Corwin gritted his teeth at the sight of it and the bad memories it invoked.
“Thank you for seeing my brother returned safely,” Edwin told Kate with a warm smile on his face. “You are welcome in Norgard, Miss Brighton. Now and forever.”
This time the crowd broke into applause. It was reserved, not quite enthusiastic, but a start. Edwin had developed the knack for swaying their opinion in the years he’d secretly worn their father’s mantle.
When the crowd quieted once more, Corwin said, “It was Miss Brighton who brought a new weapon to my attention. She used it to kill three daydrakes at once!” He pulled the revolver out of the holster at his side and held it up. “This weapon is what I bring back to Norgard from my travels. It is no ordinary pistol. It’s called a revolver, an invention of Master Tom Bonner from Farhold, created with the help of Miss Signe Leth of Esh. Both have traveled to Norgard to make more of these weapons for us. Master Bonner has done what no other gunsmith in the world has managed. It is a firearm that can discharge multiple rounds without reloading.”
Corwin turned and pointed the revolver at the dead drake. “Stand back,” he commanded.
Edwin and the high councilmembers obeyed, several of them going so far as to cover their ears.
Corwin cocked the trigger and fired, to the shock of the crowd. Then without pausing he did it again and again, discharging all six bullets. The drake’s body rocked back and forth at the impact, blood and scales spraying out as each one tore through it.
When it was over, the crowd broke into cheers. He heard his name shouted in ecstatic tones, the title Errant Prince forgotten. Even Edwin clapped, although the gesture was perfunctory, his expression aloof. Corwin ignored the disappointment he felt at such a tepid response. He should’ve known better than to hope for his brother’s approval.
With the demonstration now over, Corwin stepped down from the fountain.
Edwin turned at once to Signe. “Welcome to Norgard, Miss Leth. But what, may I ask, is your part in this endeavor?”
“May the blessing of Aslar be upon you, your highness.” Signe made a quick bow. “I am honored to be welcomed here. I hold the secret of the black powder used in the bullet casings, my own special formula that makes the revolver possible.”
“I see.” Edwin beamed at her. “That is surprising and excellent news.” He gestured to Bonner. “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Master Bonner.”
Grand Master Storr approached them then, introducing himself to Bonner and Signe with a bright smile. He wore no mask, a privilege of his rank, and the only indications of his own importance were the magestone mace hooked at his belt and his black robe. A thick multicolored band of stripes ran down the robe’s front, representing all the League orders and marking him as grand master. The largest stripe was white, indicating the order from which he’d been raised. He was handsome in an understated way, with wavy brown hair threaded with silver that hung to his shoulders. He had a way of making everyone feel as if they were the most important person in the room regardless of rank or station.
Storr kissed Signe’s hand, then did the same to Kate. “Welcome to you all. Now, I for one would love a closer look at this remarkable revolver.”
A nervous smile appeared on Bonner’s face as Corwin handed Storr the gun. The moment it was in the grand master’s hands, the rest of the high council crowded in for a better look. Soon they were plying Bonner with questions about how it worked.
Corwin slowly retreated, allowing them the chance to fuss over Bonner, who seemed to be enjoying the attention. Signe was enjoying the same as several of the councilmembers speculated that surely her special mixture of black powder was the key to keeping the mechanism from misfiring.
“Are you one of the Furen Mag?” Minister Rendborne asked, and Corwin turned away, not wanting to laugh at whatever ridiculous answer Signe would give him.
Spying Kate on the other side of the group, Corwin moved to join her, but before he could, Edwin appeared at his side. “Congratulations, brother. This round to you then.”
“Round?” Corwin cocked his head. “Whatever do you mean?”
A cool smile parted Edwin’s lips. “Surely someone has told you by now.”
“Told me what?” Corwin placed his hands on his hips, annoyed at Edwin’s patronizing tone. Not that his brother could help it. Ever since they were little, he’d had that tone whenever he addressed Corwin, as if such were a requirement from an older brother to a younger.
The smile retreated from Edwin’s face. “To be honest, my only regret is that Mother didn’t live to see it.”
Corwin flinched, struck as he always was whenever Edwin mentioned their mother. Although he’d spoken the words in a pleasant, conversational tone, Corwin didn’t miss the barb, the never-ending blame Edwin placed on him for her death.
“See what?” Corwin said through gritted teeth.
“The uror, brother. The sign has finally appeared.”
At Edwin’s words, the ground seemed to shift beneath Corwin’s feet, and he widened his stance, steadying himself. All at once the enthusiastic greeting of the crowd outside made sense. They weren’t welcoming home the second-born prince of Norgard but the next possible heir, the man who could be the high king.
Only uror would tell. It was finally here.
15
Corwin
THERE WAS MUCH TO DO. A dozen decisions to make and words to be spoken, but in the hours that followed his arrival at Norgard, only one thing occupied Corwin’s thoughts.