Magician’s End

The army gathered outside the city was nominally an ‘honour guard’ for Prince Oliver of the Grand Duchies of Maladon and Simrick. In terms of straight bloodline succession to the late king, he was perhaps the most entitled, his mother being the king’s sister, but she had wed the Prince of Simrick and he had been raised in the twin duchies. To most people in the Isles, that made him a foreigner.

The two other factions were the supporters of Chadwick, Duke of Ran, and those of Montgomery, Earl of Rillanon, Lord James’s first counsellor, and Hal’s distant cousin. Neither could counter Oliver’s claim, but together they could confound the Prince of Simrick’s attempt to take the throne.

Lord James sighed, looking his eighty-plus years of age. ‘If the Keshians decide to abandon the truce and sail into any port in the Kingdom save this one, they’d have nothing but a few fishing smacks and rowing boats to oppose them.’

Hal was forced to appreciate the old duke’s observation. Every warship in the royal fleet on the Kingdom Sea was in the harbour, most of the heavy ships armed with ballistae and small catapults had their weapons trained on Oliver’s army, while beyond was every city’s ducal squadron, and other ships flying the banners of noble houses. Many of those ships were contracted, ‘privateers’ barely more than pirates paid by various coastal nobles to create small zones of control in their coastal waters to extort fees from passing merchantmen. That practice over the years had created the need for the deep-water ships now employed by the navies of the Kingdom and Roldem, as well as the major trading houses in both nations. No matter how often the Crown had warned the local nobles this practice was frowned upon, they had persisted.

Hal said, ‘I trust Oliver brought a lot of gold with him, for he will be paying a great deal for those cut-throats he’s hired to leave without sacking the city for booty.’

Lord James grunted in agreement. ‘If Edward’s bunch were here …’ He let the thought go unfinished. Either Oliver would leave with his tail between his legs, or he would be forced to attack with the Prince of Krondor in residence in Rillanon. Had Edward been in the city, the chance of his being elected king as a compromise became too high for Oliver to wait. Edward had no children of his own, nor was he likely to, but he could name the heir and, after things had calmed down, abdicate, and Oliver knew he had no chance of the crown if Edward named anyone else as heir.

Edward and the western lords had ridden from Krondor for the Congress, but once word reached them of Oliver’s landing on the Isle of Rillanon, they had halted, and were now encamped between Malac’s Cross and Salador. Martin and Brendan had elected to leave Prince Edward’s army and continue to the capital, to learn Hal’s fate. Hal was grateful to have them at hand.

Martin and Brendan were housed in an inn not too far from the palace and had arrived in time for Lord James’s calling his grandson and the brothers to this garden. Silence fell as the old duke was lost in thought as he studied the arriving warships, and Hal recalled his reunion with his brothers.

After commiserating for the first time together over their father’s death, talk between the brothers had turned to their various adventures, from Martin’s defence of Crydee and Ylith, and Hal’s escorting the princess to safety. The reunion had been short and bittersweet, for as relieved as Hal was to discover that their mother was alive and well, being cared for by the elves in Elvandar, the narration of their father’s death was hard for him and despite his best efforts, he found tears running down his cheeks by the time Brendan finished. Martin had heard the story before, but his eyes shone with wetness as he watched his brother endure the tale. Hal embraced his brothers for a long moment, then promised that when they could, the three of them would gather for a quiet meal to honour their father, if fate permitted, in their family’s hall in Crydee.

Hal then suffered through an awkward few moments as Martin stood before him professing his love for Lady Bethany of Carse, who returned his affection, and got halfway through a painful pleading of his cause, coupled with a declaration that he was willing to sacrifice it all for the good of the duchy and the kingdom, should Hal insist on marrying Bethany. Hal finally let his love for his younger brother win over the temptation to torment him, and said that he had no problem with Martin marrying Bethany should her father, Earl Robert of Carse, not object. The relief on Martin’s face was almost comic.

Hal did not tell Martin that his heart belonged to another anyway, a woman whom he could never aspire to wed. He just wryly observed that Martin and Bethany were a perfect match, because she did so well those things that Martin lacked skill at, like archery, hunting, and riding. Martin endured the teasing in good humour, being overwhelmed with relief and gratitude at his brother’s reaction to the news. He had left Hal muttering about how he was going to ask Beth’s father for her hand. Her father had been furious with Martin when he discovered Bethany hadn’t left for Elvandar with the other women, but had remained in Crydee to fight. He seemed to ignore his daughter’s part in all of it, and focused his wrath on Martin.

Now Hal and his brothers stood on the rooftop of the palace, contemplating the next move in this game of kingship. Jim said, ‘Everyone’s getting ready for this party. My agents in Salador tell me there’s no shortage of garrisons from the west gathered on the Fields of Albalyn.’ Those fields lay between Malac’s Cross and Salador, and were historically vital for any military conflict in the region. They were athwart the King’s Highway and no other clear passage to the town which marked the boundary between the Eastern and Western Realms was available.

‘Why would the western lords bring their garrisons?’ asked Hal.

Lord James fixed the young Duke of Crydee with an expression that was a mix of amusement and pity. He nodded once to Jim who said, ‘In case there’s a war. Edward ordered the garrisons to accompany him, rather than return home after the truce with Kesh.’ He let out a long sigh, as stress overtook his usual calm. ‘Edward’s many things, but a political fool is not one of them. It may be we need elect kings who have no wish to rule, for Edward would be a near-perfect monarch under which to reforge this cracked kingdom of ours.’

Hal leaned against the balustrade, his knuckles slowly turning white as he gripped harder and harder. ‘Wasn’t the last war enough for a while?’ he said slowly.

Jim glanced at his grandfather, who nodded once, then motioned for the others to leave Jim and Hal alone. When they were alone, Jim said, ‘You really don’t understand, do you?’

Hal felt tired to his bones. Without Stephané he felt empty. She was now safely in her father’s palace on Roldem, once order had been restored in Roldem, and the three conspirators behind the war had been uncovered and removed. Quietly, he said, ‘I know that I’m a duke without a duchy, that the title came to me far too many years too soon, and my mother is far enough away that I may not live to see her again. I know I spent most of the war hiding and fleeing, rather than leading men into battle, and I feel a lesser man for it.’ Jim seemed on the verge of objecting, but Hal shook his head. ‘I know I served, and I would give my life for the princess and for the Kingdom, and I took men’s lives to do it.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Yet it all feels pointless … now.’ He had been about to say ‘without Stephané’, but he knew that sounded like a whiny complaint. Besides, if anyone knew how he felt about her, it was Jim. ‘So now you have something I need to hear,’ Hal continued, ‘because men of ambition wish to rule, and men of character seem significantly absent. And I suspect that you are also about to tell me what I need to do.’

Jim was also quiet for a moment, then said, ‘You’re not a stupid man, Hal. You’re of the blood royal—’ He held up his hand to cut off the young noble. ‘Spare me the oft-repeated history of your ancestor’s pledge to absent his line from succession. It was a pretty speech: I’ve read the transcript of the entire ceremony that put Lyam on the throne, and it was vital then to prevent just the sort of mess that’s happening now, but there is no legal justification for it. I’ve asked both the court historians and the Priests of Ishap, and there is no precedent that permits the renunciation of that blood tie. Martin was free to not claim his cousin Rodric’s crown, but he could not bind unborn heirs to such a burden. You are of royal blood.

‘Had your ancestor Martin rejected his brother’s giving him the title to Crydee, and your father and his father before back to Lord Martin, all remained commoners, perhaps, that would have set a precedent. But he accepted and held the title and passed it along.’ He shrugged.

‘Are you saying I should put myself forward for king?’

‘Hardly, but I’m trying to stress to you that you are not simply a rustic noble without lands to rule, but rather a player with coins in the game.’

‘This is why it is taking Prince Edward such a very long time in getting here? Not just because Oliver’s landed his army?’

‘Edward wishes to be king less than any prince in the history of the Kingdom, but he’s being hard-pressed by the western nobles to claim the crown.’

‘Why?’ asked Hal.

‘It’s as my grandfather said. It would consolidate the western realm’s authority and strip supporters away from Chadwick and Montgomery, perhaps forcing them to broker a deal.’ Jim ran his hand over his face and Hal saw deep fatigue had taken its toll on the duke’s grandson. ‘At worst it holds off a war a while longer; at best it gives a legitimate hope to avoid bloodshed if Chadwick and Montgomery throw their weight behind Edward. With those three combined, even Oliver’s not ambitious enough to risk destroying his twin duchies in a futile attempt to seize the crown without backing. But there are a lot of “ifs” here. And it begins only if Edward can be convinced to take the crown.’ Jim smiled and some of the vigour Hal had taken for granted since first meeting him returned. ‘Edward has no sons, but he has three daughters, married to eastern nobles who could never return to their marriage beds if they didn’t support their wives’ father for the throne. It was one of Gregory’s wiser moves selecting an eastern noble to rule Krondor after the previous disasters. Those three nobles have vassals and allies who will follow them. No one of power would then support Oliver once the move to Edward began. So Edward is the perfect compromise candidate.’

‘What does this have to do with me? I’m a duchyless duke, now that Crydee is occupied by the Empire of Great Kesh.’

‘You’re still a duke,’ said Jim, ‘and you’re related to the crown by blood. Your support of Edward is vital. It will also keep you from being a false banner behind which others might rally to broker better terms for their interests. Not everyone who was trying to find you was an agent of those mad demon servants who were thrusting us into war. There are a few eastern nobles who would love to install you as a guest in their castles until you came to support Oliver, Chadwick, or Montgomery. If Crydee supported their candidate, others in the west might consider it prudent to follow suit.’

‘Father warned me eastern politics was something to be feared as much as war,’ said Hal.

‘Smart man, your father.’

Hal said nothing, still hurting inside every time he found himself asking what his father would have done in his place.

‘We need to be in Salador sooner rather than later,’ said Jim.

‘Why? Can’t I merely announce my support of Edward, then be on my way? I want to travel to Elvandar and find my mother.’

‘She is safely cared for. Nothing short of a global disaster would put her at risk in Aglaranna and Tomas’s court. No, that will have to wait until the situation here is resolved. And to support Edward, you need to journey to his side.’

‘Why does he wait?’ asked Hal.

‘He rests his forces on the Fields of Albalyn, preparing the ground for battle. He hopes for the best but is getting ready for the worst. Edward is neither a warrior nor a tactician, but he surrounds himself with the best in the west. Vanderal of Yabon is the Western Realm’s best commander with the loss of your father. Fredrick of Tyr-Sog is as fine a cavalry commander as you’ll see. If Oliver seeks to answer this question with arms, Edward prefers a battleground of his own choosing. Oliver knows he cannot sit on this island if Edward will not come to him.’ Jim smiled. ‘If he seizes the capital but the Congress does not confirm him as king, that makes him a usurper, nothing more. Edward would control the mainland and Oliver would sit here until he rots or runs out of food. The few farms on the island and all the fishermen here will not sustain that host for long. And he’ll run out of gold: he has an army only as long as he can pay it.

‘And if Edward will not come to Oliver,’ he continued, ‘Oliver must go to Edward, and that will be on the Fields of Albalyn. Edward has soldiers; he needs officers. You and your brothers need to be on your way westward as soon as we put some things here in order.’

‘Going to help Edward?’ asked Hal. ‘And am I safe in assuming people may not wish me to do so?’

‘A fair assumption,’ said Jim. ‘I’ll have men travel with you, and I’d like you to take Ty Hawkins with you, too. He’s a smart lad and may prove handy. I’ve spoken to Ty and Tal, and they’re willing.’

‘Willing?’

‘To prevent war if possible, to end it as quickly as possible, if not.’

Hal crossed his arms and leaned back against the stone balustrade. ‘Ty’s a good friend and the best swordsman I’ve ever seen. He’s no burden.’

‘Good. His patent of Kingdom nobility is a forgery.’

Hal’s eyes widened slightly.

‘But it’s a very good one, created by the best forger my predecessor could buy.’

‘Predecessor?’

Jim pointed off in the direction his grandfather had taken.

‘The duke?’

‘Few know the truth about my family, and how our connections wend their way past rank, class, even nationality,’ said Jim. ‘It seems to be an every-other-generation sort of thing, really. The first Lord James …’ Jim got a far-off look in his eyes and he turned to stare out at the gathering fleet. ‘Did you know he was a thief, just a boy, yet an accomplished rogue by any measure, who was raised by Prince Arutha to become first his squire, but eventually became Duke of Krondor and was then sent off with the prince’s son, King Borric, to rule the nation as Duke of Rillanon?’

‘No,’ said Hal. ‘Most of the history I do know is from books in my father’s library.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Ashes, now, I expect.’ He looked at Jim. ‘Every other generation?’

‘My great-grandfather, named for Prince Arutha, was by all reports an honourable man, resolute and fearless, but by nature much more of an administrator than any sort of blackguard. You really do need to be something of a scoundrel to do what we do, we Jamisons.’

When Jim let out a deep sigh, Hal could feel the fatigue in the older man’s bones. ‘You could use a spot of rest.’

‘I could spend what remains of my life resting,’ said Jim. ‘But that may not come, should Oliver and his friends below take matters in hand. My great-grandfather had a brother a year younger than himself, by the name of Dashel Jamison. He rejected rank and office: some say because he was by nature a very mean-spirited bastard, but we in the family know he did it to honour a pledge to a woman he loved.’ Jim’s expression hovered halfway between fond remembrance and regret. A slight smile moved his lips for a brief instant, then he said, ‘Men do very foolish things for love, don’t they?’

Hal thought of Stephané and felt his heart turn to lead. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘we do.’

‘Dash, as my great uncle was known, became a businessman of some stature and wealth in Krondor, but what was known by few was that he was also the leader of a large gang of thieves known as the Mockers. He bore the title of the Upright Man.’

Hal said, ‘Those names I know. The legend of the Upright Man and the Mockers reaches out to the Far Coast.’

‘His son Dasher, whose name I bear, was another of those generations who was skipped when it came to bloody work. He almost lost control of the Mockers. And as he had no sons, as his nephew I had to step in and act on behalf of the family.’

‘So, you’re the Upright Man of Krondor?’

‘Until recently. I’ve placed another in that position to assume my responsibilities. What turned out to be the same in my great-great-grandfather, the first Lord James’s, time is true today: a gang of thieves can be very handy in the world of spying.’

‘Why are you telling me all this?’ asked Hal.

Jim shrugged. ‘I’m not certain I know.’ He continued to gaze out over the sea. ‘I’ve spent half my life here and half in Krondor and half all over the world.’

Hal chuckled. ‘That’s three halves.’

Jim didn’t smile. ‘I know. That’s how it feels.’ He was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Why am I telling you anything? You’re important, Hal. Maybe not in ways that are clear, but there are things in motion, undertakings by men of ambition and power, and the best I can pray for is we somehow get Edward on the throne. If that happens, from that moment forward his life will be at risk every minute of every day.’

‘Treason?’

Jim nodded. ‘Slip something into Edward’s wine, or have him fall from his horse, before a clear line of succession can be achieved, and Oliver is back out there with his army within a week, and Chadwick and Montgomery are back inside the palace bargaining with anyone who will promise a vote in the Congress of Lords.’

‘What has that to do with me?’

‘As you’ve observed more than once, young Hal, you are a duke without a duchy. Oh, Edward will eventually wrest it back from Kesh, for they have no real use for the Far Coast, and you can go back and try to govern, though with a population of fractious refugees from the Keshian Confederates now herding, farming, and mining your duchy. But that may prove more of a challenge than herding cats. Send one of your brothers and as much of a garrison as you can scrape together, and go very light on taxes and in a generation or so you’ll have something resembling organization in the region. I’ll try to have Edward forgo Crown taxes for a while so you can feed your brother’s little army.’

‘Martin’s little army? Shouldn’t it be my little army?’

‘No, you need to stay close to Edward.’

‘Why? He’s got your grandfather and you, and there must be others loyal to the Crown, no matter who wears it.’

‘There are, but my grandfather may not be here much longer. It’s hard to know in my family; as often as not we conspire to get ourselves killed before we meet a quiet death in bed. And I …’ Jim closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I am used up. The burden of trying to live up to a family legend that grows with each passing generation, I guess. Truth to tell, I do not know how talented the original Lord James was. By any objective measure he was a genius, but was he the genius portrayed in the histories?

‘My burden, my flaw of character, is to match myself against him. As a child, when my father couldn’t hear, I’d call myself “Jimmyhand” because I could never remember the “the”.’ He leaned forward, both hands on the balustrade, and took a deep breath. ‘Oceans smell different, you know?’

Hal nodded. ‘Far Coast is … damp: the wind comes from the west constantly and we get that salt-and-fish smell. Here …’

Jim laughed. ‘A lot of flowers in these gardens.’

Hal laughed with him. ‘But down in the city it’s still sweet.’

‘Which one is better?’

Hal thought. ‘This one, but not here.’

‘Roldem?’

Hal stayed silent.

Jim put his hand on Hal’s shoulder. ‘There’s someone in Roldem I miss as well.’

‘Lady Franciezka?’

Jim nodded.

‘A remarkable woman,’ said Hal. He and Ty had sheltered for a while under the lady’s protection as they got ready to smuggle Princess Stephané out of Roldem and away from a forced marriage. ‘What is this all going to come to?’ he wondered.

Jim said, ‘If we play our part, we shall gather on the Fields of Albalyn soon, where a truce can be forged that will permit Edward to enter this city safely, and he can be acclaimed by the Congress of Lords as king. And then we can set about restoring order in the Kingdom. And that’s what you need to concern yourself with, my lord Duke of Crydee. There are few men of rank in this nation I would hand a sword and ask them to stand behind the king, but you are one of them. If Edward survives more than a few months before someone decides his rule has lasted too long, then we may look to the future.’ Jim lowered his head.

‘There’s something else? What?’

‘Everything,’ answered Jim. ‘Those three murderous creatures that plunged us into wholesale war with Kesh, had but one ambition: to create chaos, and in that they succeeded in grand fashion. In all things in this life, magic gives me the most to fear, for you need other magic to battle it. We’ve long allied ourselves with people who seem to be of good heart and intent, but I …’

‘You hate leaving things to others,’ finished Hal.

‘Yes,’ admitted Jim. ‘Another flaw of character, and probably why I’m so sick at heart and worn out by all this; I would wager there’s no man alive who has travelled more between Krondor, Rillanon, and Roldem than me.’ He released his hold on the balustrade. ‘We have more to discuss, but some other time. I could do with a meal before tackling the more prickly matter of politics. Join me?’

‘Certainly. Can my brothers come as well?’

‘Of course. There’s much we need to keep between ourselves, but there are many things it would be well for all the conDoin brothers to know.’

Hal smiled.

Jim put his hand on Hal’s shoulder and lowered his voice. ‘You realize that you are the only three males left alive who bear that name.’ He conveniently neglected to include the magician, Pug, who was a conDoin by adoption, but who had renounced his allegiance to the Kingdom years before.

Hal said, ‘I hadn’t thought of it that way.’

‘For reasons that will become clear, I am having the officials in the court refer to you as Duke Henry, but your brothers will henceforth be called Princes Martin and Brendan. I want these conniving nobles to be reminded of just who you are.’

Hal said nothing, but as he and Jim entered the palace, he wondered, But who are we?

It was a sombre meal despite repeated attempts on the part of Duke James to liven the mood with a series of humorous anecdotes and stories. People would chuckle at the appropriate moments, smile and nod, then fall back into silence. Finally, as the meal drew to an end, silence engulfed the room.

The three brothers from the Far Coast were seated at the table with Lord James, Jim, several of the duke’s closest advisors, various ladies of the court, and attendants. The other addition to the table was Ty Hawkins, son of Talwin Hawkins, a former tribesman from the mountains called the High Fastness in the Eastern Kingdoms. History and circumstance had propelled young Talon of the Silver Hawk into the cauldron that was international politics, and he had emerged a man of many identities.

As had his son. Ty Hawkins, son of Eye of the Blue-Winged Teal and a nameless soldier of Olasko, adopted by Tal and loved as his own, was by nature and training his father’s son. By an odd quirk of circumstance, he resembled his adopted father, with vivid blue eyes and a lithe frame and whipcord strength. The most striking difference was his sandy-blonde hair, contrasting with his father’s near-black. But like many boys, he had adopted so many of his father’s mannerisms and expressions. At times it was impossible to remember Tal was not his true father.

Jim watched Ty in conversation with Hal and found it ironic that the man he most trusted to protect the royal cousin was not even a true citizen of the Kingdom. Still, both father and son had provided valuable service to the Kingdom, Roldem, and occasionally the Conclave of Shadows.