‘We all do,’ she replied. She chose not to delve into the fact that she and her husband had been fighting against the forces of madness since long before Erik was born. Still, he had served with distinction and fought his share of battles. He had never wed and fathered children, and she realized how much starker that must have made his life compared to her own. And while he had lived a long time, he had aged, while she seemed forever a woman in her late thirties or early forties in terms of appearance and vigour.
Erik slapped his hands on the arms of the chair. ‘As to your first need, I can do nothing. The King is adamant. He has no love for your husband and less love for the Tsurani.’
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘The Empire and Kingdom have been at peace since the end of the Riftwar. The Tsurani aided the Kingdom during the Battle of Sethanon. You’ve had more trouble with Kesh in the last ten years than you’ve had with Tsurani since the peace treaty was signed.’
‘You’re not talking about a few hundred or even a few thousand refugees, Miranda. You’re talking about millions. More Tsurani than the entire populations of Kesh and the Kingdom combined. There’s not one duke who would want them in his duchy. Who would feed them?’
‘They can work. They are artisans and farmers and carters…’
‘They are aliens. Not even the Earl of LaMut would welcome them and he’s of Tsurani blood! They’re too big a threat.’
Miranda knew that would be the answer, but she had hoped for better. ‘How many would you take?’
‘Me?’ asked the Duke. He laughed and again she saw the vigour returning to his features. ‘I’d look the other way if you settled a few thousand up in Yabon and Crydee. If you sneaked a few thousand more into the villages along the Teeth of the World for the border lords to worry about, I wouldn’t care. But I could not fulfil my oath of office if I didn’t follow my liege lord’s orders, Miranda. I simply could not.’
Miranda said, ‘Any ideas?’
‘Novindus would be my suggestion. It’s still recovering from the ravages of the Emerald Queen and might be able to absorb a lot of Tsurani. Hells, they could conquer the entire continent and no one up here would care.’
‘Kaspar is down there now, talking to a friend of his.’
‘Well, I’ll bet he has better luck than you, because you haven’t had any’ He sighed again, this time more from emotion than fatigue. ‘And I’ll guarantee Jim Dasher Jamison is having even less than you. His grandfather is a cunning and dangerous man, just like his own grandfather – and he was one sneaky bastard – but he’s as steadfast and loyal to the Crown as you are to your cause. Jim won’t move his grandfather – and that means he won’t move the King – to settle one Tsurani farmer in the Eastern Realm.’
‘What about my other favour?’
Erik grinned. ‘That is another story.’ He stood up and stretched and Miranda could see the years falling away again. Now Erik looked like a vigorous man of fifty or sixty years of age, still fit and dangerous. ‘I’ve got a mess here in the Western Realm, but it’s time my staff earned their keep and they can keep an eye on it for me.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Well, you’ll want generals for the Tsurani army, and I’m a general. Or at least a Knight-Marshal, which means I order generals around.’
‘The Prince would give you leave?’
‘The Prince would wear green paint and dance in the city square if I told him it was a good idea.’
Miranda laughed at the image.
‘Edmund’s a good enough fellow, but everyone this side of a stone statue knows he’s a caretaker prince, sent out here because he’s so ineffective no one back east will worry about him becoming ambitious.’ Erik’s mood turned serious. ‘We may have a civil war brewing when I get back – if I get back. I swear you to an oath of secrecy, but the King is not a well man.’
Miranda was alarmed. The King was young and had no male heir. ‘What is it?’
‘No one knows, but I suspect it’s something dire. Every priest that could be trusted has been in to see him, and I may even ask you or the Conclave for help if I can persuade the King to trust you. He’s been growing slightly less hale every year, and he and the Queen have had no male children, and the Princess is only seven years old. We’ve had a string of royal cousins on the throne of Krondor for the last ten years and the King keeps moving them around lest they grow ambitious.’
‘Erik, if the King died tomorrow, what would happen?’
‘Prince Edmund and a dozen other royals would return to Rillanon and appear before the Congress of Lords, all of them claiming the throne. And there would be a dozen royals standing right beside him claiming the crown. We’d have a kingdom brokered like my old friend Roo used to broker wheat and barley – and he told me enough stories about trade for me to think it’s every bit as nasty a business as war. If no claimant to the throne gained consensus in the Congress, we’d have factions, and that could lead to open strife.’
‘Civil war,’ said Miranda.
‘Yes, and we haven’t had one of those in a very long time.’