though it were settled. Looking up at her set expression, Kovar realized that it was. "I would appreciate it if you tell him to return to Elbasan, Bardic Captain."
Bardic Captains conducted, they did not control. Kovar had nothing to say to Tadeus.
Or rather, he had a great deal to say but as it all came down to "How dare you go to the queen behind my back?" and he already knew what Tadeus would reply he saw no reason to waste his time.
" I remember my oaths, Kovar ."
Bardic Oaths were sworn to the greater good, which unfortunately left room for differences of opinions.
No, Tadeus had done all the damage he could, and if Kovar wanted to stop this blatant disregard of what was best for Shkoder, he needed to put his energy elsewhere.
"Magda, you must speak with her. She won't listen to me."
Setting her fluted glass pen carefully back in the inkwell, Magda sighed and looked up from her notes. "What do you want me to say to her, Kovar?" The healer laced her fingers together as he began an impassioned tirade against the exploration. Some time later, when he'd started to wind down and no longer seemed in imminent danger of exploding, she said, "Her Majesty listens to you, Kovar, she just doesn't agree with you."
He took a deep breath and slowly released the bunched handful of robe he'd been gripping. "And you?"
"Do I agree that she's sending a shipload of fools to their deaths? No. Do I agree that we have too few bards to waste one on this nonsense? No. Do I agree that you're doing the right thing in discouraging the bards from volunteering…" Before she could add one final no, Kovar interrupted.
"I am not," he growled, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring down at her, "discouraging the bards from volunteering. They have brains enough of their own to see this exploration for the death trap it is."
"And yet, if you hadn't been making it quite so clear that you see it as a death trap, I can't help but think that some of the younger bards might be a little more willing to take the risk."
"Some of the younger bards?" he repeated with a harsh laugh, as nonmusical a sound as Magda, who'd spent her entire life among bards, had ever heard. "Tell that to Tadeus. The old fool is the only bard who thinks himself immortal enough to try.'"
"And Benedikt?"
"He doesn't think enough of himself to see the danger."
That, Magda had to admit, was a distinct possibility, but Tadeus was no fool. He was nearly of an age with Kovar, and so it was only to be expected that the Bardic Captain would have less influence on him than on the younger bards. Was this indicative, she wondered, of a split in ideology by age? "Perhaps I should speak to Tadeus."
"You might as well," Kovar told her tightly. "Since it seems you've nothing of value to say to the queen." Quartered robes whipping around his ankles, he strode for the door and paused, one foot over the threshold. Pivoting around, he pointed an inkstained finger at the healer. "This voyage is nothing but a personal indulgence by a monarch who doesn't seem to realize we have everything we need right here."
Magda sat where she was, forehead creased, until the staccato beat of his angry footsteps faded then she slowly pushed back her chair, stepped out into the wide hall, and flagged down the first apprentice she saw.
"Find Tadeus, tell him I need to speak with him as soon as possible."
"Here, Healer?"
"Here."
She'd start with Tadeus.
And she'd call in a few favors to make certain that when Benedikt arrived back at the Citadel, he'd come to her before he spoke with the Bardic Captain.
* * *
The applause when he finished playing flung Benedikt up onto his feet and spun him around, heart beating so hard against his ribs he thought it might break free. "Pjazef! How long have you been standing there?"
"Just for the last song." A little taken aback at the reaction, he pushed
Bardic Captains conducted, they did not control. Kovar had nothing to say to Tadeus.
Or rather, he had a great deal to say but as it all came down to "How dare you go to the queen behind my back?" and he already knew what Tadeus would reply he saw no reason to waste his time.
" I remember my oaths, Kovar ."
Bardic Oaths were sworn to the greater good, which unfortunately left room for differences of opinions.
No, Tadeus had done all the damage he could, and if Kovar wanted to stop this blatant disregard of what was best for Shkoder, he needed to put his energy elsewhere.
"Magda, you must speak with her. She won't listen to me."
Setting her fluted glass pen carefully back in the inkwell, Magda sighed and looked up from her notes. "What do you want me to say to her, Kovar?" The healer laced her fingers together as he began an impassioned tirade against the exploration. Some time later, when he'd started to wind down and no longer seemed in imminent danger of exploding, she said, "Her Majesty listens to you, Kovar, she just doesn't agree with you."
He took a deep breath and slowly released the bunched handful of robe he'd been gripping. "And you?"
"Do I agree that she's sending a shipload of fools to their deaths? No. Do I agree that we have too few bards to waste one on this nonsense? No. Do I agree that you're doing the right thing in discouraging the bards from volunteering…" Before she could add one final no, Kovar interrupted.
"I am not," he growled, drawing himself up to his full height and glaring down at her, "discouraging the bards from volunteering. They have brains enough of their own to see this exploration for the death trap it is."
"And yet, if you hadn't been making it quite so clear that you see it as a death trap, I can't help but think that some of the younger bards might be a little more willing to take the risk."
"Some of the younger bards?" he repeated with a harsh laugh, as nonmusical a sound as Magda, who'd spent her entire life among bards, had ever heard. "Tell that to Tadeus. The old fool is the only bard who thinks himself immortal enough to try.'"
"And Benedikt?"
"He doesn't think enough of himself to see the danger."
That, Magda had to admit, was a distinct possibility, but Tadeus was no fool. He was nearly of an age with Kovar, and so it was only to be expected that the Bardic Captain would have less influence on him than on the younger bards. Was this indicative, she wondered, of a split in ideology by age? "Perhaps I should speak to Tadeus."
"You might as well," Kovar told her tightly. "Since it seems you've nothing of value to say to the queen." Quartered robes whipping around his ankles, he strode for the door and paused, one foot over the threshold. Pivoting around, he pointed an inkstained finger at the healer. "This voyage is nothing but a personal indulgence by a monarch who doesn't seem to realize we have everything we need right here."
Magda sat where she was, forehead creased, until the staccato beat of his angry footsteps faded then she slowly pushed back her chair, stepped out into the wide hall, and flagged down the first apprentice she saw.
"Find Tadeus, tell him I need to speak with him as soon as possible."
"Here, Healer?"
"Here."
She'd start with Tadeus.
And she'd call in a few favors to make certain that when Benedikt arrived back at the Citadel, he'd come to her before he spoke with the Bardic Captain.
* * *
The applause when he finished playing flung Benedikt up onto his feet and spun him around, heart beating so hard against his ribs he thought it might break free. "Pjazef! How long have you been standing there?"
"Just for the last song." A little taken aback at the reaction, he pushed
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