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Dux himself. If he
was arrogant and proud, that was no different from the children of
many other lords and knights, and perhaps Tarrabus would grow out
of it.
    But while he could not deny Tarrabus’s courage or
skill with a blade, Ridmark’s dislike of the man had only grown. He
was brutal and merciless to anyone in his way. If a freeholder or a
townsman annoyed him, he sent his followers to harass and torment
the unfortunate man. Once, when they had gotten drunk together with
the other squires, he had told Ridmark that he thought of the
peasants as cattle, as beasts to be shaped and used as their lords
wished.
    Ridmark had given up trying to make peace with
Tarrabus after that, and would have preferred to ignore him.
    But Tarrabus wanted to wed Aelia, and Tarrabus would
one day be the Dux of Caerdracon.
    “A blessed Festival of the Resurrection to you,
Swordbearer,” said Tarrabus. He was always polite. Ridmark had
heard that Tarrabus had once killed a man, and then bid his
children a pleasant day before departing.
    “And you, sir knight,” said Ridmark. “I did not see
you at the mass this morning.”
    The knights behind him laughed, but Tarrabus lifted a
hand and they fell silent at once.
    “I attended private masses in the chapel at dawn,”
said Tarrabus, “as is proper for a man of noble birth, rather than
attending the church of the ignorant rabble in the town. I
sometimes think the teachings of the church are useful for the
commoners, to teach them how best to spend their insignificant
lives, but are useless for men of power and rank.”
    “That borders upon blasphemy,” said Constantine.
    Tarrabus spread his hands. “Have I denied God or his
Dominus Christus? I have not. God has given us, the lords of
Andomhaim, power over lesser men. We must use it as we see
fit.”
    “We must use it for the defense and welfare of the
realm,” said Ridmark, “not to glorify ourselves.”
    Tarrabus almost smiled. “You shall quote the Pact of
the Two Orders at me next, sir.”
    “It speaks wisdom,” said Ridmark. “The Magistri are
only to use their magic for defense, for knowledge, and for
healing. Never to harm another mortal. It is a wise provision. Else
we shall be like the dark elves, ruled by cruel sorcerers of power,
or like the pagan orcs, beholden to shamans of blood spells.”
    “Perhaps we are not wise,” said Tarrabus. “Perhaps it
would be better if we used our magic as a weapon. The dark elves
can live for millennia, and the urdmordar are immortal. We live but
a short span of years, and face foes of tremendous power. Perhaps
if we used magic to elevate ourselves, to ascend…”
    “As Eve ate of the tree to ascend to the knowledge of
good and evil?” said Ridmark.
    Tarrabus offered a short, hard smile. “Let us leave
theological speculation to the priests. There is news of more
immediate interest. It seems that the Dux wishes for his daughter
to wed soon.”
    Constantine frowned. “It is unseemly to gossip about
my sister, sir.”
    One of Tarrabus’s knights, a scowling man named Paul
Tallmane, glared at Constantine. “You should keep a respectful
tongue in your mouth, boy. You are addressing the future Dux of
Caerdracon."
    Again Tarrabus lifted a hand, and Paul stopped
talking. “What gossip is there, boy? I merely repeat common
knowledge. The Dux is fond of his grandchildren, and he would like
more. And Aelia is a noblewoman both fair in face and character,
ripe to be wed.”
    Ridmark shrugged. “I am sure the Dux will choose a
worthy husband for her.”
    “A man of high noble birth, set to rise higher,” said
Tarrabus.
    “Or,” said Joram, “a knight of renown, who has made a
name with great deeds. A Swordbearer, perhaps.” He shrugged.
“Though I am sure I cannot think of such a man.”
    Tarrabus started to answer, then the Dux cleared his
throat, the hall falling silent.
    “My friends,” said Dux Gareth Licinius in his deep
voice, “I bid you welcome to my hall, on this joyous