Krondor Tear of the Gods Page 6

  James grinned. Nothing in the court was not political, but he appreciated the sentiment. He regarded the young woman again. The more he knew her, the better he liked her. Mustering up his best courtier’s tone, he said, “A woman of your beauty and intelligence should have no trouble with that. I myself am already feeling a great sense of trust.”

  She laughed. Fixing him with a skeptical expression, she said, “Your compliment is appreciated, Squire, but do not presume too much, too quickly. I’m sure your Prince would be upset were I forced to turn you into a toad.”

  James returned the laugh. “Not half as upset as I’d be. Forgive my impertinence, Jazhara, and welcome to Krondor.”

  They paused at the main entrance to the palace, where a page waited. “This boy will escort you to your quarters and see to whatever you need.” Glancing at the sky, James added, “We have two hours until dawn, and I will attend the Prince an hour after he breaks fast with his family. I’ll have someone come fetch you to court for the presentation.”

  “Thank you, Squire,” said Jazhara. She turned and mounted the steps to the palace doors. James watched her go, appreciating just how nice her retreating figure looked in her travel clothes. As he took off in the direction of his own quarters, he muttered to himself, “William’s got good taste in women, that’s for sure. Between Talia and this one, he’s got his hands full.”

  By the time he reached a small gate near the palace wall, on the path leading to the rear servant’s entrance, his mind had already turned from exotic beauties from distant lands and was wrestling with mysteries more deadly, such as who this Crawler was and why was he trying so hard to plunge the Kingdom into war.

  Arutha, Prince of Krondor and the Western Realm, second most powerful man in the Kingdom of the Isles, looked at his squire and said, “Well, what do you think of her?”

  “Even if Duke Pug hadn’t vouched for her, I’d be inclined to trust her, to take her oath of fealty as heartfelt and genuine.”

  Arutha sat back in his chair, behind the desk he used when conducting the more mundane daily routines of ruling the Western Realm. It was his habit to take a few minutes there to ready himself for morning court, before the conduct of his office was taken out of his hands by de Lacy, his Master of Ceremonies.

  After a moment of reflection, Arutha said, “You must be tired. If loyalty were even a remote issue, Jazhara would not be here. I mean, what do you think of her as a person?”

  James sighed. “We had . . . an adventure, last night.”

  Arutha pointed to the documents upon his desk. “Something to do with a dead cloth-dyer of Keshian ancestry who appears to be working for Lord Hazara-Khan, no doubt.”

  James nodded. “Yes, sire. She’s . . . remarkable. As much as I’ve been around magic in the last ten years, I still know little about it. But she seems . . . I don’t know if powerful is the correct word . . . adept, perhaps. She acted without hesitation when the need arose and she seems capable of doing considerable damage should that be required.”

  “What else?”

  James thought. “I think she’s able to be very analytical ‘at a full gallop’ as they say. I can’t imagine her being rash or foolhardy.”

  Arutha nodded for James to continue.

  “We can deduce she’s educated. Despite the accent, her command of the King’s Tongue is flawless. She reads more languages than I do, apparently, and being court-born will know all the protocols, ceremonies, and matters of rank.”

  “Nothing you’ve said is at variance with Pug’s message to me concerning this choice.” Arutha indicated another piece of parchment on his desk. “You have a nose for smelling out things even a magician of Pug’s puissance might not recognize.”

  “In that, Highness, she’s what you require in an advisor on things magical, I would wager.”

  “Good.” Arutha rose and said, “Let us go and meet her, then.”

  James hurried to reach the door and open it for his prince. While no longer Senior Squire of the Court of Krondor, he was still Arutha’s personal squire and usually attended him when he wasn’t off on some mission or another for Arutha. James opened the door.

  On the other side, Brion, the newly-appointed Senior Squire, awaited Arutha’s appearance. Brion was the son of the Baron of Hawk’s Hallow in the eastern mountains of the Duchy of Yabon. A tall, rangy, blond-headed lad, he was a hard-working, no-nonsense sort, the perfect choice for the tedious work of Senior Squire, work James had to admit he had never fully embraced with enthusiasm. Master of Ceremonies de Lacy and his assistant, Housecarl Jerome, were thrilled with the change in assignments, as they had both been forced to compensate for James’s absences when he was out and about on Arutha’s behalf. James glanced at Brion as he followed Arutha, leaving James with the other squires awaiting the duties of the day. When Arutha was seated, Brion nodded to Jerome, who moved to the large doors that would admit today’s court to the Prince’s presence. With a dignity James still found impressive, the old Master of Ceremonies moved to the middle of the entrance, so that as Jerome and a page opened the doors, those outside would first see de Lacy.

  With a voice still powerful, the Master of Ceremonies said, “Come forth and attend! The Prince of Krondor is upon his throne and will hear his subjects!”

  He turned and walked toward the dais, while pages led members of the court to their assigned places. Most of those in attendance were regular members of Arutha’s court and knew exactly where they should stand, but a few newcomers always needed a boy nearby to instruct them quietly in matters of court protocol. And Brian de Lacy was a stickler for protocol.

  James saw several officers and nobles of Arutha’s staff enter and take their customary positions while petitioners who had convinced someone on the palace staff they needed to speak personally with the Prince followed. Jazhara was first among those, since she would soon make the transition from newcomer to member of the court.

  James was impressed. Gone was the dusty, efficient travel garb, and now she wore the traditional formal raiment of her people. From head to foot she was dressed in a deep indigo silk, and James had to acknowledge that the color suited her. She wore far less jewelry than was customary for a woman of her rank; but the pieces she did wear - a brooch which held her veil pinned to her shoulder, which in her homeland would be worn across her lower face in the presence of strangers; and a single large bracelet of gold embedded with emeralds - were of the highest quality. The former thief suppressed a smile as he considered what they’d fetch if sold to some of the less reputable gem dealers in Krondor.

  Master de Lacy intoned, “Highness, the court is assembled.”

  With a slight inclination of his head, Arutha signaled for court to commence.

  James glanced around to see if William was present. As a junior officer of the Prince’s guard he had no particular reason to be here, but given his history with Jazhara, James thought it possible he might put in an appearance.

  De Lacy spoke: “Highness, we have the honor to present to you Jazhara, newly come to Krondor from Stardock, recommended to your favor by Duke Pug.”

  Arutha nodded for her to come close and Jazhara approached with the calm, effortless poise of one born to the court. James had seen more than one previously confident petitioner stumble while under the Prince’s gaze, but Jazhara reached the appropriate spot and bowed, a low, sweeping gesture, which she executed gracefully.

  “Welcome to Krondor, Jazhara,” said Arutha. “Duke Pug commends you to our service. Are you willing to undertake such?”

  “With my heart and mind, Highness,” answered the young desert woman.

  De Lacy came to stand halfway between Jazhara and the Prince and began the oath of service. It was short and to the point, to James’s relief; there were far more tedious rites that he’d been forced to endure in his years of service to the crown.

  Jazhara finished with, “And to this I pledge my life and honor, Highness.”

  Father Belson, a priest of the Order of P
randur, and Arutha’s current advisor on issues concerning the various temples in the Kingdom, approached and intoned, “Prandur, Cleanser by Fire, Lord of the Flame, sanctifies this oath. As it is given, in fealty and service, so shall it be bound, in protection and succor. Let all know that this woman, Jazhara of the House of Hazara-Khan, is now Prince Arutha’s good and loyal servant.”

  Belson conducted Jazhara to her appointed place in the court, next to his own, where both would be available should Arutha need their opinion on some issue concerning magic or faith. James glanced at the remaining company and realized court would be blessedly short this morning. There were only two petitioners and most of the regular court staff appeared anxious to be elsewhere. Arutha was a ruler who, to everyone’s relief except perhaps de Lacy’s, preferred efficiency to pomp. He left grand ceremony, such as the monthly galas and other festive occasions, to be overseen by his wife.

  Jazhara caught James’s eye and gave him a slight smile, which he returned. Not for the first time, James wondered if there might be something more in this than merely a collegial gesture, and then he mentally kicked himself. James’s view of women was quite outside the norm for men his age in the Kingdom: he liked them and wasn’t afraid of them, though he had been from time to time confused by them. Still, while he enjoyed intimacy with a woman as much as the next man, he avoided complicating liaisons. And a relationship with one of the Prince’s advisors was only slightly less complicating than one with a member of his family, so he shunted aside such thoughts. With a slightly regretful inward sigh he told himself, it’s just that she’s exotic.

  When court was over and the company dismissed, Arutha rose from his throne and turned to Jazhara. “Are you settled in?”

  “Yes, Highness,” she answered. “My baggage was delivered to the palace this morning and all is well.”

  “Are your quarters adequate?”

  She smiled. “Very, Highness. Master Kulgan told me what to expect, and I believe he was having some fun with me, as they are far more commodious than I had expected.”

  Arutha smiled slightly. “Kulgan always possessed a dry sense of humor.” Motioning for James, he said, “Squire James will conduct your tour of Krondor today, and should you need anything, he will ensure you get it.”

  “Thank you, Highness.” With a grin, James said, “As you know, we had a bit of a tour last night, Highness.”

  Arutha said, “I saw the documents this morning.” To Jazhara and James he said, “But first, you two, in my office, please.”

  Brion hurried to open the door and Arutha led Jazhara and James into his private office. As he was about to step through, Arutha said, “Squire Brion, see what Master de Lacy has for the squires this morning.”

  “Sire.” Brion bowed and departed.

  Arutha sat. “Jazhara, allow me to begin by saying that had I a moment’s concern regarding your loyalty to our court, you would not be standing here.”

  Jazhara inclined her head and said, “Understood, Highness.”

  “James, as soon as possible, please familiarize our young magician with everything we know so far about the Crawler. That will require, I suspect, a fair amount of personal history, since his confrontation with the Mockers is significant in understanding his motives. Be frank. I have the impression this young lady doesn’t shock easily.”

  Jazhara smiled.

  Arutha fixed a solemn gaze on both of them. “This Crawler has had his hand in no small amount of mischief over the last year or so. He was indirectly involved in one of the more threatening attacks on our sovereignty and created a situation that put a great strain on our relationships with a neighboring nation to the east. The more difficult he is to find, the more I worry about him.” Addressing James he said, “Be thorough. You needn’t return to the palace, unless I send for you, until you feel Jazhara has seen all she needs to see.”

  James bowed. “I will be thorough, Highness.”

  Jazhara bowed as well and followed James out of the Prince’s office into a side corridor, where James asked, “Where to first, my lady?”

  Jazhara said, “My quarters. I’m not traipsing around Krondor in this gown. And I feel only partially dressed if I don’t have my staff in my hand.”

  James smiled. “Your quarters it is.”

  As they walked through the palace, Jazhara said, “I haven’t seen William yet. Is he avoiding me?”

  James looked at her. Frank, indeed, he thought. He said, “Probably not. While he’s a royal cousin, he’s also a junior officer and has many duties. If we don’t run into him during our travels, I know where we’ll be able to find him this evening.”

  Jazhara said, “Good. We need to talk, and I’d rather that occurred sooner than later.”

  James noticed she was no longer smiling.

  THREE

  Vow

  The watchman saluted.

  James returned the acknowledgment, while Jazhara took in the sights of Krondor. She was wearing her travel garb once more. She carried her iron-shod staff, and her hair was tied back. She looked . . . businesslike. James found it interesting to contrast how she looked now, and how she had appeared at court earlier that morning. Two very different women . . .

  They had begun early in the day, visiting the shops and markets of what people commonly referred to as the “Rich Quarter” of the city, a place in which shops displayed items of great beauty and price to buyers of means. Jazhara had lingered at several shops, much to James’s chagrin, for he had never enjoyed the pastime of looking at goods he had no interest in buying. He had several times been assigned to the Princess’s shopping expeditions, mostly to keep Elena out from under her mother’s feet as much as to guard Arutha’s wife. It was perhaps the only time in his life when he hadn’t particularly enjoyed the Princess’s company.

  James had then taken Jazhara through the so-called “Merchants’ Quarter,” where the traders and captains of commerce had their places of business. The center of this district was dominated by a coffeehouse. They had paused to enjoy a cup of the Keshian brew, which Jazhara pronounced as fine as any she had tasted at home. This had brought a smile from their server, a young man named Timothy Barret, the youngest son of the owner. Businessmen flocked to Barret’s to conduct business, mainly the underwriting of cargo ships and caravans.

  After leaving the Merchants’ Quarter, they had visited one working-class district after another. It was now past sundown and the evening watch was making its rounds. “Perhaps we should return to the palace?” James suggested.

  “There’s still a great deal of the city to be seen, yes?”

  James nodded. “But I’m not certain you’d care to spend time there after dark.”

  ‘The Poor Quarter?“

  “Yes, and the docks and Fishtown. They can be pretty rough even during the day.”

  “I think I have shown I am capable of taking care of myself, James.”

  “Agreed, but I find it best to keep the opportunity for trouble to a minimum; it has a habit of finding me anyway.”

  She laughed. “Perhaps more tomorrow, then. But what about William? You said he would likely be off-duty this evening.”

  James pointed to a side street. “Let’s cut down there. William is almost certainly at the Rainbow Parrot.”

  “A soldiers’ tavern?”

  James shrugged. “Not particularly, though many of Lucas’s patrons are old friends who served with him in the Riftwar. No, it’s just the place William prefers to frequent.”

  Jazhara glanced sidelong at James. “A girl?”

  James felt himself flush and decided a simple, direct answer was appropriate. “Yes. William has been seeing Talia, Lucas’s daughter, for several weeks now.”

  “Good,” said Jazhara. “I feared he was still . . .”

  As she paused, James supplied, “In love with you?”

  Without looking at James she said, “Infatuated, I think, is a better word. I made a mistake and . . .”

  “Look, it’s none of m
y business,” James said. “So if you don’t want to talk about it, fine.”

  “No, I want you to know something.” She stopped and he turned to look at her. “Because you’re his friend, I think.”

  “I am,” said James. James had been something of a mentor to William since he had arrived at Krondor.

  “And I would like for us to be friends, as well.”

  James nodded. “I would like that too.”

  “So, you know, then, that William was a boy who followed me around for years once he was old enough to become interested in women. I was a few years older and to me he seemed an eager puppy, nothing more.” She paused and stared down at the street, as if recalling something difficult to recount. James, too, stood still. “I became involved with an older man, one of my teachers. It was not a wise thing to do. He was Keshian, as I was, and he shared many of the beliefs I do on magic and its uses. We drifted into a relationship without too much effort.

  “Our affair became . . . awkward, for my family would not have approved of any such liaison, and rather than dictate to me, my great-uncle got word to my lover that he was to cease his involvement with me.” She began to walk slowly again, as if it helped her form her thoughts. James accompanied her. “He rejected me, and left Stardock, returning to the Empire.”

  “And to a small reward, I’m sure.”

  “At the least. Perhaps it was nothing more than wanting to spare me a confrontation with my own father or perhaps he was afraid - my great-uncle’s reach can be very long, even into a place such as Stardock.”

  “And?” James prompted.

  ‘William was there. I was hurt and frightened and alone and William was there.“ She looked at James. ”He’s a lovely young man, honorable and kind, strong and passionate, and I felt abandoned. He helped me.“ Her voice trailed off.

  James shrugged. “But what?”

  “But after a while I realized it was as wrong for me to be his lover as it had been for my teacher to be mine. William was the son of the duke, and had another destiny before him and I was . . . using him.”