As the Prince’s door opened, Jimmy said, “Wherever His Highness puts me, but most likely in the officers’ mess.”
She nodded. “I’ll find you.” Kissing him lightly on the cheek, she dashed off, and Jimmy was forced to admire the way she moved.
Owen, who had stood silently next to Jimmy throughout the exchange, said, “And that would be . . . ?”
“The Duke of Silden’s daughter, Francine. She used to play with Dash and me when we lived in Rillanon and business would bring Lord Brian to court. She’s Dash’s age, and last time I saw her she was just a skinny kid. She had a terrible crush on me for the longest time.”
“Ah,” was all Owen said, as the Prince’s page appeared.
The page saw Greylock, and said, “Marshal Greylock, His Highness will see you first.”
Owen motioned for Jimmy to follow him, and they entered Patrick’s quarters.
The Prince remained seated behind his desk, cluttered with papers and a small silver tray with hot rolls and a pot of coffee. Duke Arutha sat quietly at the left end of the desk. He looked at his son and smiled. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you. Dash?”
Jimmy shook his head. “He’s out there somewhere.” Arutha’s smile faded.
Patrick finished a mouthful of roll and said, “What news of Krondor?”
Owen said, “Jimmy brings a message from General Duko.”
Patrick asked, “From General Duko?”
Jimmy said, “The invaders are having a falling-out, it seems.” He outlined what Duko had told him of his suspicions regarding Fadawah and Nordan, and finished up with, “So the General has a proposal to keep himself and his men from being sacrificed and return Krondor to Your Highness without bloodshed.”
Patrick’s face was an unreadable mask. Jimmy could see the Prince already could sense where this was going. “Go on,” said the Prince of Krondor.
“Duko sees no point in returning to Novindus. The continent is a waste after ten years of warfare, and . . .” Jimmy paused.
“Go on,” repeated Patrick.
“He sees something special in our idea of a nation, Highness. He wishes to belong to something larger than himself. He proposes to return Krondor to Your Highness, and to swear fealty to the crown. He will turn his army northward, and march against Nordan up in Sarth.”
Patrick’s color started to rise. “Swear fealty!” He leaned forward. “And perhaps he wishes to be named Duke of Krondor in place of your father, as well?”
Jimmy attempted to keep it light. “Nothing so grand, Highness. A Barony, perhaps.”
“Barony!” Patrick exploded, slamming his hand on the table, upsetting the coffeepot and spilling the hot liquid over the rolls and across a dozen parchments. The page standing nearby sprang to clean up the mess while the Prince stood up. “The murdering dog has the effrontery to seize my city then hold me up for a Barony to give it back! The thief has no lack of gall.” He looked at Owen and Arutha. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t order the army into the field and simply hang the bastard after we retake Krondor?”
Arutha said, “There are several reasons, Highness.”
Patrick looked at him. “They are?”
“By making a bargain with Duko, we take the enemy’s forces and reduce them by a third. We increase our forces by that much. We save the lives of countless men. We then have an advance unit to throw at Sarth, and we free up men needed to reinforce the southern marches, holding Kesh at bay.” Arutha seemed reluctant to continue, but finished by saying, “If Duko is being forthright and this isn’t some sort of elaborate ruse, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“Invade my realm, steal my city, destroy my citizens’ lives and property, then turn around and extort a patent of office from my father, and it’s ‘too good an opportunity to pass up’?” Patrick looked at Arutha, and shouted, “Are you bereft of all reason, my lord?”
Jimmy stiffened in anger at his father being addressed in such a way, but said nothing. Arutha, showing the patience of a parent faced with a child throwing a tantrum, said, “I am reasoning very well, Highness.” Then, in the tone a schoolmaster used with a student, he calmly said, “Sit down, Patrick.”
Prince of the Western Realm or not, Arutha had been one of Patrick’s tutors, and old habits were hard to break. He sat behind his desk, looking daggers at Arutha, but remaining silent.