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

no return to your father’s house. The mercy of the king, while considerable, is not endless. Do you understand me?”
    “Yes,” Enned said faintly. “My lord.”
    “You are fortunate to be alive. On your knees, and thank the esteemed Ferris son of Tohanis, who had no duty to seek mercy for you, for your life.”
    After the merest pause, Enned turned to the judge, dropped to his knees—still awkwardly; he would have to learn better grace—and said fervently, “Thank you, esteemed sir. Thank you very much.”
    The judge inclined his head. “I will inform your father.”
    “Thank you,” the young man repeated, and looked nervously to Bertaud.
    Bertaud crossed his arms forbiddingly over his chest and said, “Now, as you have not yet done so, thank the king.”
    Still on his knees, Enned turned back to the king and said humbly, bowing his head, “Thank you, your majesty. For your mercy.”
    Iaor inclined his head by a minute degree, effortlessly royal.
    “Now, get up and present yourself to me,” said Bertaud, and waited for Enned to find his feet. The young man was flushed, still disoriented by the suddenness and unexpectedness of the king’s decision. He probably, Bertaud was aware, had very little idea what the duties of the guard even were. He looked Enned up and down, maintaining a stern visage, then glanced at the guardsman. “Annand.”
    “My lord,” said the guardsman.
    “Present this man to Eles. If the captain has any questions or reservations about this assignment, tell him he may apply to me.” Bertaud gave the king an ironic glance on this last, and Iaor crooked a finger across his mouth to hide a smile.
    “My lord,” repeated the guardsman, and put a hand on the young man’s elbow to escort him out. Enned went, not without a wide-eyed backward look over his shoulder at Bertaud and the king.
    Bertaud waited until the door was closed behind the two men, gently, by the guardsman. Then he let himself laugh at last.
    Iaor, too, was grinning. “You did that well. So stern! Anyone would quail.” He stood up and clapped Bertaud on the shoulder. “I impose on you, I fear, my friend.”
    “How could I possibly desire anything other than what you desire, my king?” Bertaud was having a hard time finding a serious tone. “No, no. A hot-hearted proud young fool is meant for the guard—just ask Eles.” Eles was not a man who suffered foolishness from any proud young men. The captain of the guard certainly hadn’t ever been inclined to suffer it from Bertaud in years past, when he had already long been the captain and Bertaud merely Iaor’s page and companion. Dour and emotionless, he had seemed to Bertaud then; only much later had Bertaud learned to catch the occasional gleam of unspoken humor in the captain’s eye. He hoped Eles would be amused by this unexpected gift the king and Bertaud had sent his way.
    “So I thought,” agreed Iaor. He sounded pleased with himself, as well he might. It was a solution worthy of a Linularinan legist. No one, not even the old Fox, could say the king had passed lightly over the young man’s crime; even without imposing an actual
geas
, Iaor might be said to have imposed a rather severe sentence. Or, by taking the young man into his own guard, he had done him honor. And giving him into the hand of the Lord of the Delta was a nice touch: that might be a slight concession toward Linularinan sensibility… or a slight insult to Linularinan conceit. Depending on how one regarded it.
    Thus, both Feierabiand pride and the king’s justice had been preserved, and without doing actionable violence to any legal understanding between Linularinum and Feierabiand. It was an excellent maneuver, worthy of a Safiad. Even so, the king’s glance at Ferris was less amused, and less pleased.
    The judge saw this change in manner, too. “Your majesty, of course the boy did, without question, offend your law—the law that I swore an oath to uphold. And yet I brought the matter