“How do you think His Majesty will take the news?” Moriel asked.
“We shall see. Go back and tell the king I have something of great importance to discuss with him. I’ll come within the hour. And Moriel? Say nothing of this.”
Moriel looked offended. “I wouldn’t think of it, my lord!”
Jealousy, malice, and ego, Niryn amended as he went back to his breakfast. And a traitor’s heart. How long would this one remain tractable before overreaching himself?
No matter, he thought, sucking the custard from a pastry horn. There are always plenty more of that ilk to be had.
In fact, Niryn had learned of the pregnancy a few days earlier, as he’d known about the others. Prince Korin had kept his spies busy the past year or so, throwing bastards around the city like a farmer strewing barley seed. But this time it wasn’t just another kitchen maid or harbor slut, girls one could simply exterminate like troublesome vermin. No, this one had nearly gotten past him. His spy among the Dalnan priests—now deceased—had informed him too late of certain divinations performed for the girl, divinations that set the royal hallmark on the child’s paternity. Aliya’s mother, a woman as ambitious as she was powerful, had already been told and was eagerly anticipating the formal announcement that would graft her line to the throne.
Closeted with Erius in the king’s private study, Niryn spoke carefully, never taking his eyes from the king’s face. Erius took the news with disarming calm.
“Lady Aliya, you say? Now which one is she?”
“The eldest daughter of Duchess Virysia.”
The king’s face, usually so easily read, betrayed little. “Ah yes, that auburn-haired beauty who’s always on his knee.”
“Yes, my king. She’s one of several lovers your son has enjoyed in recent months. As you know, he has been ah—laboring mightily, as the poets put it, to produce an heir so that you will let him go off to battle.”
Erius laughed outright at this. “By the Flame, he’s as stubborn as I am! Are you certain the child is his?”
“I’ve looked into the matter carefully, Majesty. The child is his, though a bastard. But even if you forbid the match, the endorsements Prince Korin has already given have done their damage. The child could make claim to the throne on the strength of them.”
Niryn watched hopefully for a flicker of anger, but instead Erius slapped his knees and laughed. “They’ll make handsome babes between them, and the family’s highborn. How far along is she?”
“I believe the child will be born in the month of Shemin, my king.”
“If—” Erius began, then pressed a finger to his lips to ward off the bad luck. “Well, the girl is strong and fair … We’ll hope for the best. Shemin, you say?” He counted on his fingers and chuckled. “If they marry at once, we can pretend it was a hasty birth. That’s as good as on the right side of the blanket.”
“There is one other thing, my king.”
“Yes?”
“Well, there’s the matter of the girl’s mother. She is a known Illioran sympathizer.”
Erius brushed the issue aside. “I suspect she’ll be praying at a different altar, now that she’s to be the grandmother of the future king or queen, eh?”
“No doubt you’re right, my king,” Niryn replied, forcing a smile, for it was the truth. “There is just one hindrance. Your son, my king, he’s not yet blooded. To my knowledge, no ruler of Skala has married before they’ve proven themselves in battle.”
“By the Four, you’re right there! Well, the lad’s timing is damn poor. I don’t mean to attack Benshâl just to suit him.”
“I believe some of the ancient queens faced that same dilemma. But there are always bandits or pirates to be dealt with. I’m certain the Companions would not complain of such a foe. With their youth, it’s an honorable enough beginning.”
“My grandmother did just the same to marry.” Erius sighed and ran a hand over his silver-streaked beard. “But the chick isn’t hatched yet. If Korin was killed now, and the child …” Again he stopped and made a warding sign.
“Like it or not, Majesty, you must let the boy claim his place as a warrior or the armies will not accept him when, Sakor forfend, the time comes for him to claim the crown. You have only to ask, Majesty, and I will do all in my power to protect your son.”
To his surprise Erius did not bridle at the suggestion. “This magic of yours? What would it be?”
“There’s no dishonor in it, I assure you. How can there be, any more than to wear armor? A simple amulet would suffice, such as Queen Klie wore in the ballads.”
“Very well. I’ll have General Rheynaris find a suitable covey for my son to hunt.” Erius smiled, looking as if a burden had been taken from his shoulders. “Thank you, my friend, for your good counsel. But not a word to anyone. I want to tell Korin myself. Can you imagine the look on his face?” The king looked boyish himself at the thought. He stood and clapped the wizard on the shoulder. “If I could have only one minister at court, I’d have to keep you. You’ve been invaluable, as ever.”
Niryn pressed his hand to his heart. “May I always be so worthy of your trust, my king.”
As he walked back to his own rooms, Niryn sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Illior, but it was mere habit. In truth, it had been a very long time since he’d cared what the gods thought.
31
Before Korin could break the news to his father a terse summons arrived, ordering the prince and Master Porion to the New Palace. The rest of the Companions were useless once he was gone. Raven tried in vain to engage them with descriptions of the twenty-third battle of Kouros, but the boys swiveled like weathercocks at every noise from the corridor. Giving up in disgust, he dismissed them.
They loitered around the mess for the rest of the afternoon; anxious not to miss any summons. The mood was tense; if the king had been happy about the news, what was all the waiting about?
Ki made a halfhearted attempt at knucklebones with Barieus and Lynx, but no one could concentrate.
“He’s done it now,” Tanil fretted, pacing the rushes flat by the door. “I tried to tell him to be more careful, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“He didn’t want to be careful and neither did she,” Caliel grumbled, stretched out on a bench by the hearth and staring morosely up at the ceiling.
“Will the king blame Porion?” asked Lutha.
“Or us?” said Quirion. “Maybe he thinks the Companions should have kept a better eye on him. What do you think, Tobin?”
“How should I know?” Tobin shrugged, whittling a bit of kindling to slivers.
Ki cast a concerned glance at his friend. Ever since the incident at the execution, something had changed in the king’s demeanor toward Tobin.
“I say it’s good news for us, no matter what happens,” Zusthra declared. “Korin will have his heir—”
“That’s for his father to say,” Nikides cut in. “The child’s a bastard, remember?”
“I can think of at least two queens born on the wrong side of the blanket,” Caliel countered.
“Yes, but those were the children of queens,” Nikides reminded him.
“So what?” snapped Urmanis. “Bilairy’s balls, do you always have to be such a know-it-all?”
Nikides colored and shut up.
“No, Nik’s right,” said Caliel. “Go on, explain it to him, if he’s too thick to see it.”
“A woman always knows the child is hers, so a queen can’t be cuckolded,” Nikides told Urmanis. “Even if she doesn’t know which lover was the father, as happened with Klie. But Korin has only Aliya’s word, and the drysians’, that her child is his. Really, it would be safer not to claim it and get Korin married off properly.”