“What should we do now?” asked Earl Richard.
“Without cavalry, I’m inclined to sit tight until we get word of the situation down in Krondor. But my instinct tells me we need to advance northward as fast as we can. Fadawah may have fled or been killed, but that doesn’t mean some other petty captain won’t try to grab power and fashion a modest little Kingdom for himself. And as far as we know, Yabon City is still under siege.”
Earl Richard said, “I’m tired of sitting around, myself. Give the order to advance.”
Erik smiled and stood up. “My lord,” he said with a bow. He went outside and found Jadow Shati near the Crimson Eagles’ campsite. “Break camp!” he ordered. “And ready to march!”
“You heard the man!” said the former sergeant. “I want every man ready to march in an hour!”
Jadow turned and grinned at his old companion, and Erik found once more he couldn’t resist that man’s smile; he grinned in return.
Patrick showed every sign of being on the way to a full recovery. His color had returned to normal and he sat firmly upon his throne.
The Keshian General Asham ibin Al-tuk again stood before the throne, looking even less pleased than the last time he had appeared. Now he faced a Kingdom army reinforced by cavalry units from Port Vykor and from the North.
Pug walked in.
Patrick said, “You demanded we be here at noon, Pug. What have you to say to us?”
Pug looked at Patrick, then at the General, and said, “This war is over. General, you will refresh your soldiers outside one more day, then at first light tomorrow you will return to the South. You will return beyond the original borders south of Land’s End. You will carry orders to all Keshian units to cease their attacks on Land’s End and you will relay the following message to your Emperor: should Kesh come north again, uninvited, no man crossing the border under arms will survive.”
The General stood ashen-faced and shaking with rage, but he nodded.
Patrick beamed. His smile was one of victory. “Dare to linger, Keshian, and my magician will destroy your army where it stands.”
Pug turned. “Your magician?” Pug advanced upon the young Prince and walked up the stairs to stand before him. “I am not your magician, Patrick. I loved your grandfather and counted him among the greatest men I’ve known, and I treasured the love of your greatgrandfather Borric, who gave me the name conDoin, but you don’t own my soul. There are forces loose in the universe so far beyond your petty dreams of power and wealth they are a flood to a drip of water. It is those forces who command my attention. I just refuse to sit idly by any longer and see innocent women and children slaughtered and brave men die because rulers are too foolish to see they have abundance.”
Turning to the General, Pug said, “You may also tell your Emperor that should any Kingdom soldier move south uninvited, every man under arms who crosses the border will be destroyed.”
“What?” said Patrick standing. “You dare threaten the Kingdom?”
“I make no threats,” said Pug. “I am telling you that you will not be permitted any retribution against Kesh. You will both return to your respective sides of the border and act like civilized neighbors.”
“You are a Duke of the Kingdom, a member of the royal family by adoption, and a sworn vassal to the crown! If I tell you to destroy that army outside the gate, you will do so!”
Pug’s anger rose up and he stared the taller young man in the eyes. “I shall not. No power you possess can compel me to act against my will. If you want those Keshians outside the walls dead, take a sword and go out and try to kill them.”
Patrick’s rage erupted. “You traitor!”
Pug put his hand on Patrick’s chest and shoved him back into the throne. Guards throughout the hall put hands on the hilts of swords to protect their Prince. Miranda stepped forward, hand upraised, and said, “I wouldn’t!”
Nakor stood at her side, and held up his staff. “The boy is all right.”