Silvan looked at Kiryn, who was slender and delicate of build, with the soft, smooth hands of the scholar. Silvan compared his cousin to himself, whose body was hardened, well-muscled.
Kiryn was unarmed. He could hardly represent a threat.
“Very well,” Silvan said and sent away the servants, who had been tidying the room and laying out the clothes he would wear at the formal dance given in his honor this evening.
“There, Cousin. We are alone. What is it you have to say to me?” Silvan’s voice and manner were cool.
“Your Majesty, Cousin,” Kiryn spoke earnestly, keeping his voice low, despite the fact that the two of them were alone in the large and echoing room, “I came here today with one fixed purpose and that is to warn you against this Glaucous.”
“ Ah,” said Silvan, with a knowing air. “I see.”
“You don’t seem surprised, Your Majesty.”
“I am not, Cousin. Disappointed, I confess, but not surprised. Glaucous himself warned me that you might be jealous of both him and of me. He told me quite candidly that you seemed to dislike him. The feeling is not mutual. Glaucous speaks of you with the highest regard and is deeply saddened that the two of you cannot be friends.”
“I am afraid I cannot return the compliment,” Kiryn said.
“The man is not worthy to be regent, Your Majesty. He is not of House Royal. He is . . . or was. . . a wizard who tended the Tower of Shalost. I know that my Uncle Konnal suggested him, but. . .”
He stopped talking, as if he found it difficult to proceed. “I tell you what I have never told anyone else, Your Majesty. I believe that Glaucous has some sort of strange hold upon my uncle.
“My uncle is a good man, Your Majesty. He fought bravely during the War of the Lance. He fought the dream alongside Porthios, your father. What he saw during those awful times has caused him to live in constant fear, unreasoning fear. He is terrified of the evil days returning. He believes that this shield will save the Silvanesti from the coming darkness. Glaucous controls the magic of the shield and through threats of lowering it, he controls my uncle. I would not want to see Glaucous control you in the same way.
“Perhaps you think, Cousin, that I am already under his control. Perhaps you think that you would be a better Speaker of Stars?” Silvan asked with mounting anger.
“I could have been Speaker, Cousin,” Kiryn said with quiet dignity. “Glaucous sought to make me Speaker. I refused. I knew your mother and your father. I loved them both. The throne is yours by right. I would not usurp it.”
Silvan felt he deserved the rebuke. “Forgive me, Cousin. I spoke before my brain had time to guide my tongue. But I believe that you are mistaken about Glaucous. He has only the best interests of the Silvanesti at heart. The fact that he has risen to his high estate from a low one is to his credit and to the credit of your uncle for seeing his true worth and not being blinded by class as we elves have been in the past. My mother said often that we have harmed ourselves by keeping people of talent from fulfilling their true potential by judging a person only by birth and not by ability. One of my mother’s most trusted advisers was Samar, who began life as a soldier in the ranks.”
“If Glaucous had come to us with expertise in the governing of our people, I would be the first to support him, no matter what his background. But all he has done is to plant a magical tree,”
Kiryn said wryly, “and cause a shield to be raised over us.”
“The shield is for our protection,” Silvanoshei argued.
“Just as prisoners in their jail cells are protected,” Kiryn returned.
Silvan was thoughtful. He could not doubt his cousin’s sincerity and his earnestness. Silvan did not want to hear anything against the regent. Quite honestly, Silvan was overwhelmed by the new responsibilities that had been thrust so suddenly upon him. He found it comforting to think that someone like Glaucous was there to advise and counsel him. Someone as formal and polite and charming as Glaucous.
“Let us not quarrel over this, Cousin,” Silvan said. “I will consider your words, and I thank you for speaking from your heart, for I know that this cannot have been an easy task for you.”
He extended his hand.
Kiryn took his cousin’s hand with true goodwill and pressed it warmly. The two talked of other matters, of the ceremonies of the forthcoming coronation, of the current fashions in elven dancing. Kiryn then took his leave, promising to return to escort his cousin to his crowning.
“I will be wearing the crown that last graced the head of my grandfather,” said Silvan.
“May it bring you better fortune than it brought him, Your Majesty,” said Kiryn. With a grave expression, he took his departure.
Silvan was sorry to see his cousin leave, for he was very pleased with Kiryn’s warm friendliness and lively nature, even though he felt rather resentful at Kiryn for spoiling the morning. On this day of all days, a new king should experience nothing but joy.
“He is just envious,” Silvan said to himself. “Perfectly natural. I am sure I would feel the same.”
“Your Majesty,” said one of his servants, “I grieve to report that it is starting to rain.”
“Well, and what do you think of our new king?” General Konnal asked his companion as they ascended the stairs of the royal palace to pay homage to His Majesty on the morning of his coronation. The rain was steady and heavy now, had drawn a curtain of gray over the sun.
“I find him to be intelligent, modest, unaffected,” Glaucous replied, smiling. “I am extremely pleased with him. You?” ,
“He is an adolescent puppy,” said Konnal, shrugging. “He will give us no trouble.” His tone softened. “Your advice was right, my friend. We did well to place him on the throne. The people adore him. I have not seen them so happy in a long time. The entire city has turned out to celebrate. The streets are decked with flowers, everyone is dressed in his or her finest clothes. There will be parties that last for days. They are calling his coming a miracle. It is being said that those afflicted with the wasting sickness feel life restored to their limbs. There will be no more talk of lifting the shield. No reason to do so now.”
“Yes, we have uprooted the weed of rebellion the kirath were attempting to plant in our lovely garden,” Glaucous replied. “The kirath imagine they have defeated you by placing Lorac’s grandson on the throne. Do nothing to disillusion them. Let them celebrate. They have their king. They will trouble us no more.”
“And if by some unfortunate chance the shield should fail us,” Konnal stated with a meaningful look at the wizard, “we have settled his mother, as well. She will rush in with her troops, armed to the teeth, to save her country and find it in the hands of her very own son. It would almost be worth it just to see the expression on her face.”
“Yes, well, perhaps.” Glaucous did not seem to find this idea all that amusing. “I, for one, can do very well without ever seeing the witch’s face again. I do not believe for a moment that she would let her son remain on the throne. She wants that prize for herself. Fortunately,” he said smiling, his good humor restored,
“she is unlikely to ever find her way inside. The shield will keep her out.”
“Yet the shield admitted her son,” said Konnal.
“Because I wanted it to do so,” Glaucous reminded the general.
“So you say.”
“Do you doubt me, my friend?” , Glaucous halted, turned to face the general. The wizard’s white robes rippled around him.
“Yes,” Konnal replied evenly. “Because I sense that you doubt yourself.”
Glaucous started to reply, closed his mouth on his words.
Clasping his hands behind him, he walked on.
“I am sorry,” Konnal began.