Realm of Dragons

“Not happy,” Orianne said, “but I thought you needed to hear it. When Meredith told me—”

“And where were you to be told anything by her?” Lenore said. “I have a maid who hangs around with whores? What were you doing in the House of Sighs?” She paused. “It’s obvious that I cannot have a maid to whom scandal will attach so easily. You need to go now. Go, and do not come back. You are dismissed from my service.”

“Please—”

“Do not speak,” Lenore snapped. In that moment, Orianne’s years of service didn’t matter; only what she’d said. “Just leave. If you are still here in the morning, I will have guards escort you from the castle.”

Her maid turned and left, and Lenore just stood there, feeling the anger burning inside her. Zia was there looking caught between trying to comfort her and fear of what she might do.

“We will not speak of this, or of her, again,” Lenore said. “Ever.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As important as his daughter’s wedding was, King Godwin III was almost relieved to be able to fit in some of the normal business of the kingdom, receiving petitioners among the feasting in the great hall to hear their concerns. They lined up through the hall, the courtiers and the commoners, each having to wait their turn, while the music of the feast continued in the background.

“Your majesty,” a farmer said, bowing so low his forehead almost scraped his knee, “our harvest looks to be a poor one this year, yet our local lord is still insisting on his full share.”

“When the harvest comes, I will send men to assess it,” Godwin promised. “Your lord will have his tenth as usual, but no more than that, and if there is not enough for your village after that, there will be recompense made to you.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

The next was a man from the House of Merchants, who strode forward dressed in velvet to match any noble. He bowed, although it wasn’t as low as the farmer’s bow had been.

“Your majesty,” he said. “If we are talking of recompense, may we talk of the ships I and my fellow investors have lost out on the far routes wide of the Slate River? In recent weeks, several ships have been lost, never to return.”

King Godwin looked at the man. “The risks in far sailing are well known. Go beyond sight of land and you rely on the stars and on charts.”

“Indeed,” the merchant said. “But if a farmer shall be paid for the loss of his harvest, should we not be paid for the loss of ships with so many aboard?”

Godwin suppressed a flash of irritation. “Are you asking the crown to underwrite your profits? You take risks with others’ lives in the hope of making a fortune, while a farmer grows what he can to see his family and those around him fed. So no, I will not recompense you for your losses, but my men will be visiting the House of Merchants to make sure that you are compensating the families of the sailors who have been lost in your ventures.”

It was not the politic move, of course, and Godwin could see the irritation on the merchant’s face, but sometimes such men had to be put in their place. The trick was knowing when to do it and when not to. Godwin had chosen this merchant because the loss of his ships already made him weak. He could afford the man’s hatred.

They came then, one after another. There were common folk with grievances about the ways they were being treated by the guard or their lords. Godwin tried to listen seriously to these. There were more merchants, and men from the various Houses, and these always seemed to think too much of their importance. There were, inevitably, more things to prepare for the wedding.

“If we do not have enough wine for so many guests,” he declared to one surprised-looking servant, “then go out and find more. This is not a matter that requires the king’s authority.”

He tried to be a good ruler, to be patient and just with the people who came to him. A part of it was that it was what he had always promised himself he would be, the memory of his own father’s reign far too fresh. Godwin II had not been a kind king, and Godwin III found himself determined to make up for it.

Another part of it was that Rodry and his friends were in the hall, “helping” with the feast, but seeming to spend as much time cavorting as doing anything useful. One day, his son would be the king, and that meant that Godwin needed to set an example for him. He needed to show his son that not everything was about charging around the countryside, playing the knight, fighting and hunting.

The problem was that right then, Godwin would rather have been doing any of those things.

Briefly, he thought of the beast that he, his son, and the others had been summoned to look at. There had been no further news of dragons, because why would there be when none had been seen in years? Even so, Godwin couldn’t shake the image of the creature’s bones and scaled hide. So far, his son and his friends had done as commanded and kept quiet about it, but Godwin knew that such things had a way of finding their way into the light. He needed to know more.

“Grey will find something,” he murmured, thinking of the way the sorcerer had warned him that the boy would be rushing into the hall, warning him to speak with him alone, and suggesting what to do with him.

“Your majesty?” The man standing before him was short and dressed in faded noble clothes. He also looked terrified. “I’m sure that the royal magus has better things to do than help with my paltry problems.”

Godwin realized too late that he’d spoken loud enough to be heard, and worse, he couldn’t even remember what this man’s request had been. Something to do with lost ancestral lands? The truth was that he’d been too caught up in his thoughts to listen.

“Would you shun my sorcerer’s help?” he asked.

The man paled visibly.

“Oh, very well,” Godwin said. “Return tomorrow, and we will find a better solution. For now though, I am tired. This audience session is at an end. Let the feast recommence.”

“Wait, your majesty!” a voice from the far end of the hall called. “For King Ravin wishes to give his congratulations on the wedding of your daughter.”

The man who came forward was dressed in a style that Godwin assumed was popular in the Southern Kingdom, with slashed sleeves revealing white silk beneath, and pantaloons that billowed as he walked. He had an oiled black beard and a mustache that had been shaped into two hook-like curls. His hat was broad brimmed and feathered, while his boots laced with white ribbons most of the way up his shins. All in all, Godwin thought he looked ridiculous as he pushed past the long line of audience seekers.

“People usually receive their audiences in the order that they arrive,” Godwin said.

“Ah,” the man replied with a bow, “but it is not usual to receive an ambassador from King Ravin himself. I am Ambassador D’Entre. I have crossed the bridges and ridden hard to be here. Surely you will hear me, your majesty?”

King Godwin sighed. He knew that making the man wait might be seen as an insult to their neighbor, and even though the river prevented any threat of war, he wanted good relations for the little trade that there was across the bridges.

“Very well,” he said. “I take it that your king sends his congratulations on my daughter’s forthcoming nuptials?”

“Indeed he does,” Ambassador D’Entre said. “And he offers you a gift for your daughter in honor of the occasion.”

“What gift?” Godwin asked.

“The continued freedom of your kingdom,” the ambassador said.

A gasp went around the room at that, but the king held up a hand. “And no doubt King Ravin wishes something in return for this… ‘gift.’”

“It is customary for gifts to be met with gifts,” the ambassador agreed.

Godwin’s attention was fully focused now. “And what gift does my fellow king desire?”

“Merely that the Northern Kingdom recognize the truth: that it is, and has always been, a part of the greater kingdom ruled by the kings of the south.”

Godwin heard the renewed gasp that went around the room. Presumably the people there understood what such a thing meant: subservience to the south. Maybe a few had even read enough history to understand the demand; after all, the Northern Kingdom and the Southern had once been one thing, ruled by the ones who joined with the dragons. That had been before the gouge that the Slate ran through had been carved, though, and lay lifetimes in the past.

“And what exactly would that mean?” he asked.

“King Ravin would not interfere in your day-to-day affairs, as he has not to date, in spite of being the ruler of all lands. He would permit you to continue ruling on his behalf. You would, however, pay suitable tribute, in the form of half of all revenues that your royal person receives.”

“I see,” King Godwin said. In the far corner of the room, he could see Rodry and his friends growing angry. His son was red in the face, as if he wanted to charge forward and cut the man down. King Godwin smiled. “Regretfully, I must decline.”

“Then King Ravin has instructed me to inform you of the consequences of such an answer,” Ambassador D’Entre said, making it sound as if he genuinely did regret it. “Should you refuse, King Ravin will be forced to march his armies north to retake the lands that rightfully belong to him.”

King Godwin stood then, walking down to stand over the man. “There is little room for them across the bridges; bridges that we will destroy the moment we see enemies. Unless your armies are remarkably strong swimmers, I think we have little to fear.”

“There is more to fear than you think, King Godwin.”

Godwin saw Rodry start forward, but he held up a hand to stop him. This was his court, and this was not a moment for anger.