“My men and Vandros’s are positioned throughout the palace, while Kasumi’s Tsurani are outside, at Lyam’s request. The eastern lords don’t like it, but Lyam is Heir, and they cannot say no. With those who will stand with us, we can seize the palace and hold it.
“With du Bas-Tyra hiding, and Richard of Salador dead, the eastern lords have lost their leadership. But there are enough of them on the island, with enough of their ‘honor guards’ in and around the city, to turn this island into a pretty battleground should they flee the palace before a king is named. No, we’ll hold the palace. No traitorous easterner will leave to plot treason with Black Guy. Each one will bend a knee before whichever brother takes the crown.”
Pug was surprised by this. “You’ll support Martin, then?”
Old Brucal’s voice became harsh, though he kept it low. “No one will plunge my Kingdom into civil war, magician. Not while I have a breath left to spend. Arutha and I have spoken. Neither of us likes the choices, but we are clear on our course. Should Martin be King, all will bow before him. Should Lyam take the crown, Martin will swear fealty or not leave the palace alive. Should the crown be broken, we hold this palace, and no lord leaves until a congress has named one brother King, even if we’re a year in that bloody damned hall. We’ve already picked up several of Guy’s agents in the city. He’s here in Rillanon, there’s no doubt. If even a handful of nobles can win free of the palace before a congress is convened, we have civil war.” He struck his fist into his open hand. “Damn these traditions. As we speak, the priests walk toward the palace, each step bringing them closer to the moment of choice. If only Lyam had acted sooner, given us more time, or not acted at all. Or if we could have caged Guy. If we could have spoken to Martin, but he’s vanished . . .”
“I’ve spoken to Martin.”
Brucal’s eyes narrowed. “What is his mood? What are his plans?”
“He’s a troubled man, as well you might imagine. To have all this put upon him with scant time to adjust. He has always known who his father was, and was resigned to take the secret with him to the grave, I’ll wager, but now he is suddenly thrust into the heart of the matter. I don’t know what he will do. I don’t think he’ll know, until the priests put the crown before him.”
Brucal stroked his chin. “That he knew and tried not to use that knowledge for his own gain speaks well of him. But there’s still no time.” He indicated the group by the main door to the hall. “You’d best be back to your wife. Keep your wits sharp, magician, for we may have need of your arts before this day is through.”
They returned to the others, and Brucal led Vandros and Kasumi inside, speaking with them in low tones. Before Katala could speak, Laurie said, “What is afoot? When I took Katala and Kasumi outside to a balcony overlooking the courtyard, I saw Kasumi’s men everywhere. For a moment I thought the Empire had won the war. I couldn’t get a thing from him.”
Pug said, “Brucal knows they can be trusted to follow Kasumi’s orders without question.”
Katala said, “What is this, husband? Trouble?”
“There is little time to explain. There may be more than one claimant to the crown. Stay near Kasumi, Laurie, and keep your sword loose. If there’s trouble, follow Arutha’s lead.”
Laurie nodded, his face set in a grim expression of understanding. He entered the hall, and Katala said, “William?”
“He is safe. If there is trouble it will be in the great hall, not in the guest quarters. It will be afterward the true grief will begin.” Her expression showed she didn’t understand fully, but she quietly accepted what he said. “Come, we must take our places inside.”
They hurried into the great hall, to a place of honor near the front. As they passed by the throng gathered to see the King crowned, they could hear the buzz of voices as rumor swept the room. They came up to Kulgan, and the stout magician nodded greeting. Meecham waited a few paces behind, his back to a wall. His eyes surveyed the room, marking the positions of all within a sword’s length of Kulgan. Pug noticed the old, long-bladed hunter’s knife was loose in its scabbard. He might not know what the problem was, but he would be instantly ready to protect his old companion.
Kulgan hissed, “What is going on? Everything was calm until a few minutes ago, now the room is abuzz.”
Pug leaned his head closer to Kulgan’s and said, “Martin may announce for the crown.”
Kulgan’s eyes widened “Gods and fishes! That’ll set this court on its ear.” He looked around and saw most of the Kingdom’s nobles had taken their places within the hall. With a sigh of regret he said, “It’s too late to do anything now but wait.”
Amos crashed through the garden, swearing furiously. “Why the hell does anyone want all these bloody posies about anyway?”
Martin looked up and barely caught the crystal goblet thrust at him by Amos Trask. “What—” he said, as Amos filled it with wine from a crystal decanter he held.
“Thought you might be in need of a bracer, and a shipmate to share it with.”