The Accidental sorcerer

'Then I suggest you find new ways of motivating your employees,' said Lional, smoothly. 'And yourself. Unless you'd like me to do it for you?'

She bit her lip and looked down. 'No. Thank you.That won't be necessary'

'I suspected as much,' said Lional. Still rankled, he shifted in his chair. 'And what about you, Professor? Is there anything you'd like to add while we're all feeling so delightfully conversational?'

If he said what he really wanted to say he'd find himself getting intimately acquainted with a headsman's axe. 'Well… as a matter of fact there is, Your Majesty. Another question, if you don't mind.'

'No,' said the king. 'I don't mind. Provided it's not obtuse'.

'Well, sir, in short: what exactly do you mean, secret weapon?' 'The man's barking mad," said Reg late the next morning, through the remains of her breakfast mouse. 'How does he think you're going to make those Kallarapi buggers change their minds about the tariffs?'

Gerald stirred his porridge with his solid gold spoon and frowned.'He didn't say. He just laughed and waved in the next course.'

'I mean,' she continued, 'as far as I can tell, the only thing that's going to stop this tariff tiff before it gets well out of hand is Lional sitting down to a great big slice of humble pie.' She sniffed. 'And how likely is that, I ask you?' 'Not very,' he said, still frowning.

Reg cackled. 'Not at all, sunshine. Trust me. There's nothing you can tell me about Lional that I don't already know. I was giving his type the cold shoulder when I still had a shoulder to give 'em, and that's more centuries ago than I care to think about. I tell you, he's lost his marbles down the privy.'

He winced and looked around the fountain-tinkled foyer. 'Careful, Reg. For all we know the walls have ears. Pillock or not, Lional's the king. You can't flap about the place saying he's mad.'

With a burp Reg hopped off the back of her gilded chair and started marching to and fro across the table. 'Listen, sunshine, the fact he's a king only makes it more likely he's off his rocker. Royalty's always inbred. Comes of them being snobs and refusing to marry a good bit of commoner every third generation or so. I mean, look at that Prince Rupert. From what you've told me it's clear he's a grade A nutter. Madness probably runs in the family. You want to keep an eye on that Melissande or next thing we know she'll be after you in the middle of the night with a jewelled dagger and a fixed smile, you mark my words.' He groaned. 'Honestly, Reg. You do go on.'

She waved an emphatic wing under his nose. 'Gerald, I'm serious. You need to respect my experience in these matters. Sending a bunch of worn-out dukes and barons and their gormless offspring on a one-way trip to their country estates is one thing. Nothing wrong with that. Did it myself on a regular basis, generally speaking they're nothing but a bunch of parasites anyway. But seriously entertaining the idea that he could use an oath-protected wizard as any kind of weapon, secret or otherwise, is clear proof that Lional's two oars short of a rowboat.'

On second thoughts he wasn't in the mood for porridge after all. Reaching to the fruit bowl for an orange he said, 'His Majesty's not mad, Reg, he's just… determined to have his own way. I swear, if he thought I could make the Kallarapi back down by turning up at this meeting naked I'd be well advised to get used to inconvenient breezes.'

'Deary deary me, I don't know,' Reg fretted, kicking the solid gold toast-rack in passing. 'The more I hear, the unhappier I am about staying in this place.'

Moodily, he peeled his orange. 'It's a crazy setup, all right.'

Reg stopped.'Hallelujah, he's seen the light! You start packing and I'll nip down to madam's office to give her the good — '

'Not so fast!' he said, waving orange peel in her face.'You're forgetting my contract.'

She made a sound like an exploding firecracker and turned a complete somersault. 'For the love of Saint Snodgrass, Gerald, there isn't a contract signed that can't be broken and lord knows you've got grounds with this one. I ask you, where is the benefit in dancing to the whirligig tune of some addle-brained power-drunk third-rate backwater king?'

There was orange juice running down his fingers. Reaching for a napkin he said, teeth clenched tight, 'That's not the point. The point, Reg, is — '

'Oh, I know what your point is, Gerald. It's that bloody princess! You've gone and fallen arse over tea-kettle for Madam Fashion Disaster, haven't you? Oh Gerald] How could you!'

He could have banged his head on the table. 'Reg, for pity's sake. I have not fallen arse over teakettle for the princess.'

Reg squinted at him suspiciously 'Are you sure? Because I'm not blind, Gerald, I saw the way you were around her yesterday, dumbstruck with admiration, and — '

'Are you cracked? I wasn't dumbstruck with admiration, I was just dumbstruck!' he cried.'She's even bossier than you are and I didn't think that was possible! I'm telling you, Reg, I am not in love with — '

'Good morning,' said a bemused voice from the doorway.'I knocked, but nobody answered.'

Princess Melissande, even more rumpled and harassed than she'd been yesterday. This morning she was wearing dark blue trousers and a pale green shirt that may or may not have been recently introduced to a hot iron. Her hair was scraped back into a lumpy plait and the freckles on her face remained uncamouflaged by makeup. Behind the glasses, her eyes looked tired.

Gerald dropped the orange and stood. 'Your Highness. Good morning. Please, come in.'

As he hurried to close the foyer doors behind her she slumped into his vacated chair and reached into the fruit bowl for a candied kumquat. 'I interrupted you, Professor. You were saying something about not being in love with… what?'

'What?' He glared at Reg, who crossed her eyes at him. 'Ah — oh, yes! The idea of being His Majesty's secret weapon against the Kallarapi. I think, as a plan, it could do with a rethink. Reg agrees.'

The kumquat stopped halfway to the princess's mouth. 'Reg agrees? You were discussing affairs of state with a bird?'

'Oh, yes. She's very knowledgeable. Well. About some things, anyway. You'd be surprised.'

Princess Melissande continued to stare. 'You were discussing affairs of state with a bird.'

Reg snorted. 'Says the woman with a brother who probably starts the day by asking his butterflies what underpants he should wear!'

'Rupert?'The princess smiled.'Oh, you mustn't mind Rupert. He's quite harmless and very sweet once you get to know him.'

Gerald perched on the edge of the tinkling fountain, mindful of splashes. 'So… what do you think, Your Highness?'

'About what?' she asked around a mouthful of kumquat.

'About Gerald the secret weapon,' said Reg. 'Oy — you don't suppose that pretty brother of yours has got some bright idea about using him as leverage, do you?'

'You mean is he thinking literally a secret weapon? Spells of destruction at thirty paces followed by some hasty handiwork with a mop and bucket?' The princess swallowed and reached for another kumquat. 'No. Look, Lional talks big, he always has, but it never comes to anything.'

'Are you sure?' said Reg. 'I mean, he does know, doesn't he, he can't just point Gerald like a musket and shoot this Zazoor when he holds out his hand for the dosh? I mean, he does know that?'

'Of course he does,' snapped the princess.'Look, Professor, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Lional knows perfectly well he doesn't have any choice but to pay Zazoor what's owed. I expect all he wants to do is show you off to the Kallarapi. Make the pill he's got to swallow a little less bitter. You may have a holy man but I've got a wizard, so nyah. Nothing dangerous. Just diplomacy'

He pulled a face. 'That doesn't sound terribly diplomatic to me. What if things get out of hand?'

'You won't let them.' She sighed.'Professor, I'm not a complete ignoramus. I do know that wizards are forbidden to use their magic to cause harm.'