Majesty’s Steward of the Royal Household.’ This was a short, plump man in a tight-fitting tunic of red silk, and pale grey hose that bagged at the knees. ‘Earl Selvec, First Lord of the Royal Navies.’ A tall, gaunt man with a thin, waxed mustache bowed stiffly. And so on through the entire company. Each made a short statement of pleasure at Lord Borric’s arrival, but Pug felt there was little sincerity in their remarks.
They were taken to their quarters. Kulgan had to raise a fuss to have Meecham near him, for Baron Gray had wanted to send him to the distant servants’ wing of the palace, but he relented when Caldric asserted himself as Royal Chancellor.
The room that Pug was shown to far surpassed in splendor anything he had yet seen. The floors were polished marble, and the walls were made from the same material but flecked with what looked to be gold. A great mirror hung in a small room to one side of the sleeping quarters, where a large, gilded bathing tub sat. A steward put his few belongings – what they had picked up along the way since their own baggage had been lost in the forest – in a gigantic closet that could have held a dozen times all that Pug owned. After the man had finished, he inquired, ‘Shall I ready your bath, sir?’
Pug nodded, for three weeks aboard ship had made his clothes feel as if they were sticking to him. When the bath was ready, the steward said, ‘Lord Caldric will expect the Duke’s party for dinner in four hours’ time, sir. Shall I return then?’
Pug said yes, impressed with the man’s diplomacy. He knew only that Pug had arrived with the Duke, and left it to Pug to decide whether or not he was included in the dinner invitation.
As he slipped into the warm water, Pug let out a long sigh of relief. He had never been one for baths when he had been a keep boy, preferring to wash away dirt in the sea and the streams near the castle. Now he could learn to enjoy them. He mused about what Tomas would have thought of that. He drifted off in a warm haze of memories, one very pleasant, of a dark-haired, lovely princess, and one sad, of a sandy-haired boy.
The dinner of the night before had been an informal occasion, with Duke Caldric hosting Lord Borric’s party. Now they stood in the royal throne room waiting to be presented to the King. The hall was vast, a high vaulted affair, with the entire southern wall fashioned of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Hundreds of nobles stood around as the Duke’s party was led down a central aisle between the onlookers.
Pug had not thought it possible to consider Duke Borric poorly dressed, for he had always worn the finest clothing in Crydee, as had his children. But among the finery in evidence around the room, Borric looked like a raven amid a flock of peacocks. Here a pearl-studded doublet, there a gold-thread-embroidered tunic – each noble seemed to be outdoing the next. Every lady wore the costliest silks and brocades, but only slightly outshone the men.
They halted before the throne, and Caldric announced the Duke. The King smiled, and Pug was struck by a faint resemblance to Arutha, though the King’s manner was more relaxed. He leaned forward on his throne and said, ‘Welcome to our city, cousin. It is good to see Crydee in this hall after so many years.’
Borric stepped forward and knelt before Rodric the Fourth, King of the Kingdom of the Isles. ‘I am gladdened to see Your Majesty well.’
A brief shadow passed over the monarch’s face, then he smiled again. ‘Present to us your companions.’
The Duke presented his son, and the King said, ‘Well, it is true that one of the conDoin line carries the blood of our mother’s kin besides ourself.’ Arutha bowed and backed away. Kulgan was next as one of the Duke’s advisers. Meecham, who had no rank in the Duke’s court, had stayed in his room. The King said something polite, and Pug was introduced. ‘Squire Pug of Crydee, Your Majesty, Master of Forest Deep, and member of my court.’
The King clapped his hands together and laughed. ‘The boy who kills trolls. How wonderful. Travelers have carried the tale from the far shores of Crydee, and we would hear it spoken by the author of the brave deed. We must meet later so that you may tell us of this marvel.’
Pug bowed awkwardly, feeling a thousand eyes upon him. There had been times before when he had wished the troll story had not been spread, but never so much as now.
He backed away, and the King said, ‘Tonight we will hold a ball to honor the arrival of our cousin Borric.’
He stood, arranging his purple robes around him, and pulled his golden chain of office over his head. A page placed the chain on a purple velvet cushion. The King then lifted his golden crown from his black-tressed head and handed it to another page.
The crowd bowed as he stepped down from his throne. ‘Come, cousin,’ he said to Borric, ‘let us retire to my private balcony, where we can speak without all the rigors of office. I grow weary of the pomp.’
Borric nodded and fell in next to the King, motioning Pug and the others to wait. Duke Caldric announced that the day’s audience was at an end, and that those with petitions for the King should return the next day.
Slowly the crowd moved out the two great doors at the end of the hall, while Arutha, Kulgan, and Pug stood by. Caldric approached and said, ‘I will show you to a room where you may wait. It would be well for you to stay close, should His Majesty call for your attendance.’
A steward of the court took them through a small door near the one the King had escorted Borric through. They entered a large, comfortable room with a long table in the center laden with fruit, cheese, bread, and wine. At the table were many chairs, and around the edge of the room were several divans, with plump cushions piled upon them.
Arutha crossed over to large glass doors and peered through them. ‘I can see Father and the King sitting on the royal balcony.’
Kulgan and Pug joined him and looked to where Arutha indicated. The two men were at a table, overlooking the city and the sea beyond. The King was speaking with expansive gestures, and Borric nodded as he listened.
Pug said, ‘I had not expected that His Majesty would look like you, Your Highness.’
Arutha replied with a wry smile, ‘It is not so surprising when you consider that, as my father was cousin to his father, so my mother was cousin to his mother.’
Kulgan put his hand on Pug’s shoulder. ‘Many of the noble families have more than one tie between them, Pug. Cousins who are four and five times removed will marry for reasons of politics and bring the families closer again. I doubt there is one noble family in the East that can’t claim some relationship to the crown, though it may be distant and follow along a twisted route.’
They returned to the table, and Pug nibbled at a piece of cheese. ‘The King seems in good humor,’ he said, cautiously approaching the subject all had on their minds.
Kulgan looked pleased at the circumspect manner of the boy’s comment, for after leaving Salador, Borric had cautioned them all regarding Duke Kerus’s remarks. He had ended his admonition with the old adage, ‘In the halls of power, there are no secrets, and even the deaf can hear.’
Arutha said, ‘Our monarch is a man of moods; let us hope he stays in a good one after he hears Father’s tidings.’
The afternoon slowly passed as they awaited word from the Duke. When the shadows outside had grown long, Borric suddenly appeared at a door. He crossed over to stand before them, a troubled expression on his face. ‘His Majesty spent most of the afternoon explaining his plans for the rebirth of the Kingdom.’
Arutha said, ‘Did you tell him of the
