Emerald cursed them roundly. He crawled to his feet, stood unsteadily. Then he spotted Caracene.
Unintelligible words whipped back and forth. They got hot. Emerald was angry, accusing; Caracene bitter and defensive. Emerald became increasingly pale. He began to shake.
"Are you ready to talk to us?" Rider asked.
Emerald spat on the floor.
"I guess that means a truth-drawing. Greystone, Spud, set it up." Rider followed Emerald's gaze to his father's body. Something would have to be done.
"Hey!"
"Grab him!"
"Su-Cha! ... "
Rider whirled as Emerald's feet went over the window sill. The imp clung to one, desperately trying to catch Chaz's hand. He failed.
Emerald made not one sound as he plunged to his death.
Su-Cha, who was in no danger, did enough screeching for eight fall victims.
Rider elbowed his way to the window. He did not watch Emerald hit the Rock. He searched the Plaza for an island of reaction to Emerald's fall. He spied none. The gnarly man had done it on his own.
"Hey!" Greystone shouted. "The witch is getting away!"
Rider turned. Caracene had slipped out while they were distracted. His helpers rushed to the door. "Let her go," he said. "We can find her when we want."
"Huh?"
"Su-Cha?" Chaz asked.
"The web. I marked her while we were in the library. Greystone, you keep track. Maybe she'll run to Odehnal. The rest of you stay here. And stay alert. I'll be back in time to give out the rope-diving prizes."
"Where you going?" Soup asked.
"To see the King. Not a task I'll enjoy, I'm sure."
As he departed he heard Chaz and Greystone pick up their argument about Caracene. Chaz was of the opinion that he was in love, and that Caracene was not unmoved by his own manly attributes.
Greystone was of the opinion that Chaz had a head full of feathers. The others seconded his view.
X
"His Majesty is at dinner," a chamberlain told Rider. "Then he must prepare to join your father for the ceremonies. I suggest you return at a more normal time." He scowled blackly. Few men dared that with Ride-Master Jehrke.
"It's about the ceremonies. There's been a change of plan. I'm giving the medals in my father's stead."
The chamberlain's scowl deepened. "Even so ... "
Rider glanced at the nearby guards. They fought smirks. Not everyone appreciated his family's special status.
"Meghan, I am tired, upset, and short on patience. I have to see the King. I'll walk through you or over you if you make me." Was the chamberlain part of the conspiracy? Doubtful. The man was doing his job as he saw it, with a touch of officious spite.
"What is the nature? ... "
"If I wanted you to know I would have told you."
The chamberlain spun angrily, slammed a door in Rider's face. Rider was more irked with himself than with Meghan. He should not let his control slip like that. He stepped to the door, giving the guards a look that made them decide he was invisible. A tiny spell broke the bolt.
The King was a spare man in his thirties, tall and dark of hair and complexion, and new to the Shasesserren crown. His coffee eyes flashed fire as he shoved away from a table shared with two other men. Rider noted that both were trustworthy functionaries.
The King said, " This runs in the family. I tolerate your father's lack of manners and respect because he serves a purpose. But you're not Jehrke Victorious, Ride-Master. Tell me why you shouldn't be flogged out of here."
Rider's patience remained thin. "I'll give you two reasons. One is, I wouldn't let you. As my father would not. The other is that Jehrke is dead. I've taken over for him."
Absolute, deadly silence. Mouths worked but nothing came out.
"He was murdered before dawn, at the order of Khev Vlazos, by an assassin serving the sorcerer Kralj Odehnal. Vlazos, the assassin, and most of Odehnal's men have been dispatched. Odehnal remains at large, as do Vlazos' fellow conspirators. The web was damaged severely but has been restored. All is peaceful in Shasesserre—at the moment. I expect a wave of assassinations—reaching even the royal household—was planned for tonight. These attempts may go forward despite what I've done to inhibit Odehnal. End of report, except to note that an unlicensed airship is in the hands of the conspirators."
"Jehrke dead," one of the ministers breathed. "The gods forfend! Every barbarian on our borders will try to plunder the provinces."
The King noted, "We have more to fear from home-grown pillagers. They'll get the news first."
"What can we do?"
Rider said, "Do nothing. Nothing has changed except that I stand in my father's stead."
"Oh, no," the King countered. "Never again will any one man exercise that much power."
"Are you saying my father abused his?"
"Hardly. But ... "
"He did tend to be a check on royal excess? Yes. I know.
Though he seldom intervened even in your predecessors' blackest villainies." The King glowered.
King Belledon was accounted a good ruler, but had held the throne only a year. Some of Shasesserre's most terrible monarchs had entered their reigns auspiciously.
"There will be no more Protector," the King said. "The office dies with the man."
Rider had anticipated this exchange. Good or evil, no monarch willingly accepted a potential check on his power. "There never was such an office. As you know. 'Protector' is an honorific bestowed by popular acclaim. No one appointed Jehrke. He did what was necessary for Shasesserre.
As I will do. I have trained for the task since birth. I hope to achieve as much as Jehrke did."
The King went livid. "You defy me?"
Calmly, "Of course. As my father did you and every king before you." He raised a forestalling hand. "Save your outrage, your pride. Think about it when you're calm. Ask the people their wishes."
"The wishes of shopkeepers are of no consequence."
"That attitude is what makes shopkeepers and tradesmen hail a Jehrke Protector. I have done my duty to the state by giving warning. I'm going to get ready for the awards ceremony now."
The King stared at Rider, exasperated. "Like father, like son," he said. "Where are you going, Konstantin?"
"My people need to be alerted. I must tell ... "
"No one. You will tell no one, on your life. Rider at least sees the ramifications of Jehrke's death, if he is so vain as to arrogate his father's place."
The other man present, a greyhair whose role was informal and advisory, said, "There should be no announcement. Let Rider take over. There will be speculation but slight inclination toward adventurism and chaos. A formal announcement would unleash the hounds of fear Jehrke kept chained."
The King grumbled something.
"You have your enemies, Belledon. Are they more restrained by the numbers of your soldiers or by the Protector's approval of your reign? Has any ruler he approved been found by an assassin?
How many of the Bad Kings died natural deaths?"
"It is something to consider, Your Majesty," Konstantin observed.
The older man said, "You are a king, Belledon. Not a god. Never forget your oath. You serve Shasesserre. The city does not serve you."
The King continued to grumble, but admitted the truth. It was just such moments the old man was supposed to get him through.