Haplo regarded the woman thoughtfully. This prince hadn’t known him for the ancient enemy, but the Patryn had come to realize, by this conversation, that Edmund’s people were nothing more than a small satellite circling a larger and brighter sun. A sun that might be much better informed.
I could leave now and no one would ever blame me, not even My Lord. But he and I both would always know that I turned tail and ran.
The Patryn bowed. “It is we who would be honored, Your Grace.”
Smiling at him, Jera glanced back at the prince. “We will send word ahead of your coming, Your Highness, in order that all may be in readiness to receive you.”
“You are most kind, Your Grace,” Edmund replied.
Everyone made final polite bows, then the group separated. The duke and duchess returned to their dead army, herded them together (several had wandered away during the talks), prodded them into formation, and headed them back toward Safe Harbor.
Baltazar and the prince reentered the cavern. “A dynast,” the necromancer was saying in grim tones. “The people of the sovereign nation of Kairn Telest are nothing but his subjects! Tell me now, Edmund, that the inhabitants of Necropolis brought disaster to us in ignorance!”
The prince was obviously troubled. His eyes went to the far distant city, barely visible beneath the mass of clouds hanging low over it. “What can I do, Baltazar? What can I do for our people if I don’t go?”
“I’ll tell you. Your Highness! These two”—the necromancer gestured at Haplo and Alfred—”know the location of Death’s Gate. These two came through it!”
The prince gazed at them with wondering, astonished eyes. “Death’s Gate? Did you? Is it possible that—”
Haplo shook his head. “It wouldn’t work, Your Highness. It’s a long, long way from here. You’d need ships, a lot of ships, to transport your people.”
“Ships!” Edmund smiled sadly. “We have no food, and you talk of ships. Tell me,” he added, after a pause. “Do the city people know about. .. Death’s Gate?”
“How should I know, Your Highness?” Haplo answered, shrugging-
“If he’s telling the truth,” hissed Baltazar. “And we can get ships! They have ships!” He nodded his head toward Necropolis.
“And how will we pay for them, Baltazar?”
“Pay, Your Highness! Haven’t we paid already? Haven’t we paid with our lives?” the necromancer demanded, fist clenched. “I say it’s time we take what we want! Don’t go crawling to them, Edmund! Lead us to them! Lead us to war!”
“No! They”—the prince gestured to the departing duke and duchess—”were sympathetic to us. We have no reason to believe the dynast will be less eager to listen and to understand. I will try peaceful means first.”
” ‘We,’ Your Highness. I’m going with you, of course—”
“No.” Edmund took the necromancer by the hand. “You stay with the people. If anything happens to me, you will be their leader.”
‘At last your heart speaks, Your Highness.” Baltazar was bitter, sorrowful.
“I truly believe all will be well. But I would be a poor ruler if I did not provide for contingencies.” Edmund continued to press the man’s hand. “I may rely on you, My Friend? More than friend, mentor. .. my other father?”
“You may rely on me, Your Highness.” The last part of the necromancer’s sentence was little more than a choked whisper.
Edmund walked back to confer with his people. Baltazar remained behind a moment in the shadows to compose himself.
When the prince was gone, the necromancer raised his head. Ravages of a terrible, heart-wrenching grief had aged the pallid face. The stabbing black-eyed gaze struck Alfred, passed through the trembling body of the Sartan, and bored into Haplo.
I am not an evil man. But I am a desperate one. Haplo heard the necromancer’s words echo in the fire-lighted darkness.
“Yes, My Prince,” Baltazar promised fervently, softly. “You may rely fully on me. Our people will be safe!”
CHAPTER * 18
NECROPOLIS, ABARRACH
‘A MESSAGE, YOUR MAJESTY, FROM JONATHAN, THE DUKE OF RIFT Ridge.”
“Duke of Rift Ridge? Isn’t he dead?”
“The younger, Your Majesty. You recall, Sire, that you sent him and his wife to deal with those invaders on the far shore—”