Luis shrugged. He held up his right hand. “I guess I don’t need this to talk.”
“How bad is it?” asked Roo as they maneuvered through the busy street.
“I can still feel things, but it feels like I’m wearing heavy gloves. I can’t move any finger much.”
With a sudden movement, he had a dagger in his left hand. “This one still works, however.”
Roo smiled. He knew Luis to be the best man with a short blade he had ever seen and realized that while Luis could not soldier as he used to, he was far from helpless.
As they headed toward Helmut Grindle’s establishment, Luis asked, “Where are Sho Pi and Nakor?”
“With the Captain.”
“And where is the Captain?”
Roo shrugged. “Off on some errand for the King. I hear he headed down toward Kesh. Stardock maybe.”
They continued on.
“You can’t go in there,” said the student
Calis pushed past the door guard, Nakor and Sho Pi following after, and kicked open the large door to the inner chamber of the Council of Magicians, the ruling body of the Academy of Magicians at Stardock.
Five magicians looked up and one half rose. “What is this?” he said.
“Kalied,” said Calis in a cold, even tone of voice, “I have been patient I have been waiting for weeks for some indication from this body that it understands the problems confronting us and is willing to aid us.”
Another magician, an older man with nearly white beard and hair, spoke. “Lord Calis—”
“Captain,” corrected the half-elf.
“Captain Calis, then,” said the elderly magician, named Chalmes, “we appreciate the gravity of your warning and have considered your King’s request—”
“My King?” said Calis in a tone of astonishment. “He’s your King as well, need I remind you?”
Kalied held up his hand. “The Academy has long considered our relationship with the Kingdom to have terminated with Pug’s departure—”
“No one bothered to inform the Kingdom,” observed Nakor.
The five at the table looked at him with a mixture of irritation and discomfort. Nakor had once sat at that same table, when most of those now in control of the Academy had been either students or teachers. Of the five now ruling Stardock, only Chalmes had been a contemporary of Nakor’s.
Calis held up his hand to silence further comment. “More to the point, no one bothered to inform His Majesty.” He glanced from face to face. The council chamber was a high-ceilinged circular room, and the deep-ensconced torches cast flickering light across the room. Only the presence of a circular overhead wooden candle holder provided enough light to see clearly each man’s features.
But Calis’s eyes were more than human and he could see the telltale flicker around the eyes, the quick sidelong glance. Kalied might be the one to speak first, but Chalmes was the leader of this committee. Nakor had filled him in on each of these men, over the weeks they had been waiting for some declaration that the Academy at Stardock understood the gravity of the warning carried there by Calis and his companions. Chalmes had been a student of Korsh, one of the two Keshian magicians who along with Nakor had ruled the island community for five years after Pug’s departure. His first acolyte, Chalmes, had risen to the council upon Korsh’s death, and had showed every sign he was just as conservative and intractable as his predecessor had been. The others Nakor had known as students while he had taught at the Academy, before finally leaving in disgust at the insular tendencies of the administration.
Calis said, “Let me make this simple, so there can be no misunderstanding. You may not sever your ties with the Kingdom. Despite your having come from many nations, this island”—he pointed downward for emphasis—“belongs to the Kingdom. It is a Royal Duchy, and while Pug lives, it will remain so. Despite his absence, he is still a Royal Prince of the Kingdom by adoption and a Duke of the Royal Court. And if Pug dies, it will pass on to his son, the King-Marshal of Krondor, or whoever else the King deems fit to assume the title.”
He leaned forward, knuckles upon the table, and said, “You’ve been granted free reign to conduct your affairs as you like, but by no means does this allow you unilaterally to declare yourself free of Kingdom rule.
“Is this clear, or do I have to send to Shamata for a garrison of soldiers to occupy this island while the King decides which of you traitors to hang first?”
Naglek, the youngest and most quick-tempered of the magicians, sprang out of his chair. “You can’t be serious! You come into our council chamber and threaten us?”
Nakor grinned. “He’s telling you how things are,” he said. He waved Naglek back into his chair. “And don’t bother to bluster about your magic powers. There are other magicians who would happily support the Kingdom’s efforts to regain control of this island.”