Read Online Lord of the Changing Winds by Rachel Neumeier - Free Book Online Page A

was wrong to appeal to your majesty.”
    The king leaned back in his chair and stared for a long moment at the young man, who flinched under that stare at last, his gaze dropping to the floor.
    The king’s eyebrows lifted. He said severely, “My brother king Mariddeier Kohorrian will be offended, and rightly, if he finds his merchants cannot travel to Feierabiand without being knifed in dark alleys by proud young fools.”
    Enned son of Lakas said in a faint voice, “Yes, your majesty.”
    “Bertaud,” said the king.
    Bertaud straightened attentively. “My king?”
    “Though he is without doubt a proud young fool, I am inclined to spare this young man’s life. But do you see a way I may do so that would satisfy Linularinum?”
    It was a reasonable question to throw to Bertaud. The Delta had belonged to Linularinum as often, in the convoluted history of the two countries, as it had belonged to Feierabiand. But a hundred or so years ago, when the King of Linularinum had become a little too overbearing in his attempts to force the Delta to comply with a handful of Linularinan laws that it did not favor, its allegiance had swung decisively toward Feierabiand. Even the cleverest threats devised by the most subtle Linularinan legists had done nothing but make Keroen son of Betraunes order a Linularinan banner made so he could throw it down under the hooves of his horse, trample it into the mud, and invite Daraod Safiad to make him an offer.
    But more than any other region, the Delta still mingled the peoples and customs of both Feierabiand and Linularinum. Bertaud considered the king’s likely intentions and desires against his own estimation of Linularinan attitudes. He said after a moment, “The Linularinan people respect, ah, creative interpretations of the law. This is not Casmantium: We have neither the custom of the murderer’s
geas
nor the cold mages who might inflict it, for which I suppose Enned son of Lakas may well be grateful. But what if we borrowed the general idea rather than the actual practice? Perhaps you might require this man’s life, rather than his death. You might give the young man over to the army, my king, and thus take his life while not requiring his death. Military service is hardly as severe as the Casmantian
geas
, but perhaps it could be seen to satisfy the requirements of the moment.”
    The king rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and leaned his chin on his hand. “A worthy suggestion. And you think Jasand or Adries will take him among his soldiers? A hot-hearted fool like this?”
    After a moment, Bertaud realized where Iaor was heading with this question. He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan and in the end made a sound midway between the two. Iaor smiled.
    “Oh, earth and iron,” Bertaud said resignedly. “All right, then. Give him to your guard, if you must, and I will take him. I’m sure Eles will be delighted by the gift I’ll bring him.”
    Enned looked from the king to Bertaud cautiously, bewildered, but beginning to hope that he might, in fact, not die this day.
    “Will you take him, then?”
    “If it please you, my king.”
    “Then he is yours,” the king said briskly, and waved a hand to show the decision was made.
    Bertaud gestured to the guardsman, who, face professionally blank, leaned forward to cut the young man’s bonds and lift him to his feet. Bertaud said, “Enned, son of Lakas, do you understand what the king has decreed?”
    “I—” stammered the young man, who clearly was not sure. “I know—I think he gave me to you, my lord—”
    “I am Bertaud son of Boudan,” Bertaud said, striving, with some success, he thought, for a severe tone. He tried for the tone Iaor himself used when displeased, and thought he copied it rather well. The young man seemed impressed, at any rate. “Among my other duties, I serve the king by overseeing the royal guard, to which you now belong. I think you will do well. You had better, because for you there is