Yes. It is, Ganton thought. And indeed, you were one of the few who supported me when I thought to bring the Lady Octavia north on this tour. But I did not, through the advice of the Lord and Lady of Cheim, and Chancellor Yanuif, and Camithon- “Advice! I hear nothing but advice, from my first visit to the jakes in the morning until you blow out the last candle at night! Only Yatar could listen to so much advice!”
“Yatar does not need advice,” Morrone reminded him. “You do. Or you have said you do. You are of age now, and the time has passed when I could speak to you as once I did, but I will, once more. Ganton, my friend, if ever you wish my silence, you have only to say so, and I will remain your friend yet.”
“Ach, not you also!” Ganton shouted. “They all say that! All, all, they threaten to withdraw their counsel, and though they do not always say so, it is in their minds, that my father lost his throne through failure to listen to his advisors. And yes, yes, that is true enough, but much of what I hear is senseless! Yet must I listen, and smile, lest someone with more power than wits be mortally offended! Surely there is more to being Wanax than this?”
Morrone made a wry face. “I offered one of the rewards of majesty, and you made free to insult my mother for reply.” He grinned to show he wasn’t offended. “And there is little chance that Lady Octavia would ever know, though why you remain so tender for the feelings of Lord Rick’s hostage to the Roman alliance I will never know.”
“Is she no more than that?”
“How can she be else?”
“If Lord Rick and Chancellor Yanulf think of nothing but hostages, why have they not gathered in the children of Publius’ dead sister?”
Morrone shrugged again. “The discussion grows serious. Will you have more wine?”
“Yes.”
Morrone poured and brought the goblets to the bed. “Caesar’s other grandchildren are not important because they cannot be offered in marriage. Not when the eldest is five. While the Lady Octavia is ripe enough. Majesty, think you that I oppose your suit?”
“Of course not.” Morrone had more than once been messenger when the University authorities tried to keep Ganton and Octavia apart.
“For indeed, were she queen, the way might lie open to more than ever we dream,” Morrone said. “Rome itself.” He stepped back and raised his hand in the Roman manner, and there was no mockery in his voice at all as he said, “Hail, Caesar.”
“Only if—only if Lord Rick permits it,” Ganton said.
Morrone nodded. “Aye, for the moment the star-men hold power over us. But they will not forever mock the anointed of Yatar!”
That phrase, and the way Morrone said it, reminded Ganton of something, someone else who’d said that in just that way, but the wine and the venison and the lateness of the hour overcame him before he could remember who it had been.
23
The morning ritual was the same here as at the palace. Rick dressed, put on armor, and with Mason beside him came out for his first appointments. His personal guards waited for him in the corridor. Today they were commanded by Padraic, the under-captain of the Mounted Archers. Four Guardsmen walked ahead, then Rick and Mason, followed by Jamiy and Padraic.
Mason hadn’t much cared to have a new man armed and behind his captain, but he hadn’t any choice. Caradoc went with Tylara to the Garioch, and somebody had to be Mason’s second in command of the MP’s. Padraic, son of a Drantos lord and a Tamaerthan mother, knew the customs of both lands, and had been loyal since the archers were formed. There wouldn’t be anyone better. . . which didn’t stop Art Mason from worrying.
Rick had no trouble reading his companion’s mind. Mason worried a lot about loyalties. At least, Rick thought, he understands why we’ve got to expand the leadership, bring in locals and govern by Tran custom and law, not just be a flock of wolves here. Mason understands. And Gwen. I think Elliot and Warner. The rest—well, the rest of them saw what happened when Parsons tried taking over by force, but I’m not sure how well they learned the lesson. And how loyal are they? To me, to anyone?
They reached the chamber set aside for them by their host. Beazeley and four locals stood guard outside.
“All secure?” Mason asked.
Beazeley grinned. “Yes, sir, all secure now.”
“Eh?”
“Found two different listening places,” Beazeley said. “Alcove behind a tapestry, about like you’d expect. But something different.” He opened the door and led the way inside a stone chamber about twenty-five feet square. “Behind that tapestry, there, by the window. That was one. And see that picture there? Back of that’s a corridor. Real secret passage.”
“Who was in there?” Mason demanded.
“Unarmed clerk types,” Beazeley said. “Real anxious to prove they were unarmed, too.”
Rick nodded. “I expect they would be. Have you secured that corridor, then?”
“Yes, sir. I put two MP’s at each end of it. Nobody to go in without your permission. Rest of the room’s clean, as far as I can tell.” Beazeley laughed. “I didn’t look too hard for electronics.”
“No. Thank you,” Rick said. “All right, we’ll deal with Lord Ajacias later. Meanwhile, Art, go escort the king, please. And I expect we’ll need wine, and a pot of that stuff that passes for tea. Morrone will have to see to that.”
“Yes, sir,” Mason said. “Okay, Jack, let’s go.”
Rick paced around the room. It held a carved slab table, two side tables, three comfortable chairs, some benches, and a solid-looking cabinet that probably unfolded into a writing desk. On a whim Rick went to it and opened it. There were no dwarves inside, but it did have goose quills, parchment, and ink.
“Make way,” someone called outside. The door opened, and Mason stood aside to let Wanax Ganton enter. Lord Morrone followed him in.
“Welcome, Majesty,” Rick said.
“Thank you.”
Morrone gestured, and servants brought in wine and a silver service of the local equivalent of tea. It was bitter stuff, but it did have caffeine. If only the Shalnuksis would bring a few pounds of real coffee- “Thank you,” Ganton told Morrone. His voice held dismissal, and Morrone left Rick and Ganton alone in the room.
“Your Companion was not overly pleased to leave us,” Rick said.
“Nor your soldiers.”
“Shall we sit?” Rick asked.
“Thank you.” Ganton took one of the chairs.
“Wine or tea?” Rick asked.
“Wine, but it is not right that you—”
“I have no fear for my dignity,” Rick said. He poured a goblet of wine and a large mug of tea and brought them to the table. The boy’s nervous, Rick thought.
“I think we have not been alone since I came of age,” Ganton said. He smiled thinly. “Nor do my advisors approve now.”
Why would they? Last thing any public official needs is to find out his sovereign is cutting deals the civil service doesn’t know about. “It is good to see you. You look well.”
“Thank you. As do you.” He looked nervously around.
“The room is safe, Majesty,” Rick said. “My soldiers personally removed the scribes Lord Ajacias had set to listen to us, and now they guard the passageway behind that picture.”
“I see. Is that not a treason?”
“Only if you wish it to be.”
“But the law—”
Ganton seemed very serious, and Rick suppressed a chuckle. “Majesty, law and justice may be served when there has been a crime that harms someone. Here there has been no harm, and thus the matter of treason may be left to expediency and advantage.”
“Do you see advantage in accusing Ajacias?”
“Not at present,” Rick said. “He seems popular with his knights and villeins. Who would replace him?”
“My question exactly,” Ganton said. “Then that is settled.”
There was a long awkward silence.
“Lord Rick,” Ganton said. “The banquet last night was splendid. The guards, and the star warriors, all were magnificent—”
“But?” Rick prompted.
“But there were questions. Some asked—some asked if the starmen were truly loyal to me,” Ganton said with a rush, “And though I assure them they are, though I assure them you are loyal, though I believe this with all my heart, still will there be doubts.”
Rick frowned. Just what was eating the kid? “I will not remind you of the proofs we have already given,” Rick said. “You must know them all.”
“Aye,” Ganton said. “And yet still are there doubts! But—it came to me at the banquet. There is a way. If you could—if you could give me a star weapon. A small magic, not the large. The weapon that Lady Tylara used to kill Lord Parsons. And binoculars,” Ganton continued. “A different kind of magic. Together they would show—they would show that you do not fear to have your Wanax armed in your presence!”