and have none still. Our father Tryon’s old duchy, the City of Stryx, was mine after his death, and gladly the Queen and I shared a home. Even our old playmate Willem of Alcazar found refuge with us. We raised our families together; you and your brothers, my sons Bayard and Chayne, Willem’s Kronin. Can we not still live in peace?”
I hugged myself, in want of response.
“Please, Rodrigo. Let us sort this out together.” His hand came forth, entreating.
“Uncle, crown me now, and give me the Vessels with which to practice my Power. Then I’ll not fight your regency. You’ll lead our armies if we’re attacked, and I’ll strengthen us with the Still.”
Margenthar’s hands went to his hips, and he stood staring at me, biting his lip. Then, “I don’t see why not.”
My joy knew no bounds. “How soon—”
“I’ll need the Council’s approval, of course. And we certainly can’t stage a coronation on the heels of a funeral. A month or so, perhaps three. Time to invite foreign nobles, make a splendid affair of it.”
“The Vessels are mine. I want them now.”
“Do they not need the crown, to be potent?”
“You know that as well as I.” I watched his face for deception.
“If you can’t wield the Power, best the Vessels remain in safekeeping.”
“I’ll look after them. Uncle, don’t look so disgusted. Would you rather I went to Council and objected to having you as regent? Surely I have some friend in the meet.”
Mar gauged the shadows on the window ledge. “We’ll be late for the Rite, boy. You don’t want me as regent? Well, Soushire is eager for it, and she’s gathered two votes. Would you have Larissa speak for Caledon?”
“Lord, no!” The Lady of Soushire was obese, smelled of garlic, and boasted a foul temper.
“I admit, if you go to Council, you might shake one vote loose from me; I won’t tell you whose. I guarantee you, a Soushire regency will be the result.” He threw his cloak over his arm. “Come along, we’ll walk to the Rite together.”
“And the Vessels?”
“Are under guard.”
“On second thought, I rather admire the Lady of Soushire.”
“You’re so foolish as to do that? Well, on your own head be it.”
He’d called my bluff. I took breath to concede defeat.
He spoke first, and his tone was cross. “Very well, I’ll see you get your Vessels.” I did my best to hide my elation. “I’ll have to clear it with the Council, and that must wait until I’m regent. May Lord of Nature help you if they’re stolen.”
I nodded.
“Hurry now. Your mother waits; we must show her respect.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
Elryc bounced on his feather mattress. “We won! We won!”
“Uncle Mar gets his regency, brother.”
“But you’ll have the crown and the Power. Can Uncle Mar hurt us, then?” He sniffled.
Rustin stirred from his cushion. “Elryc, stop that confounded prancing. My head aches.”
Elryc slowed, but did not stop. “Can he, Roddy?”
“Well ... we’re safer.” I’d bearded the lion in—literally—his den. I smiled at the thought of it.
Rustin swarmed to his feet, caught Elryc’s wrist, flopped the boy onto his stomach, dropped alongside him, a firm grasp on his arm.
“Let go!” Elryc.
“I told you to be still, and you weren’t.” Rust’s eyes rose. “What worries me is—”
“Roddy, you’re King! Tell him to let me loose!”
“—the three months until coronation. Much could happen in—”
“Roddy!”
I growled, “Let go the Prince’s arm, Rust. That’s right. Now, sit on his back.” Elryc squawked. “And box his ears if he utters another sound. I never agreed to three months. I’ll talk to the Seven, and we’ll see.”
“Nearly all of them were at the Rite.”
“It wasn’t the moment.” Despite my best efforts to be a man, I’d wept like a child while the Ritemaster carried the flickering tapers three times round my mother’s draped form. To make things worse, Rustin had put his arm around me,
I hugged myself, in want of response.
“Please, Rodrigo. Let us sort this out together.” His hand came forth, entreating.
“Uncle, crown me now, and give me the Vessels with which to practice my Power. Then I’ll not fight your regency. You’ll lead our armies if we’re attacked, and I’ll strengthen us with the Still.”
Margenthar’s hands went to his hips, and he stood staring at me, biting his lip. Then, “I don’t see why not.”
My joy knew no bounds. “How soon—”
“I’ll need the Council’s approval, of course. And we certainly can’t stage a coronation on the heels of a funeral. A month or so, perhaps three. Time to invite foreign nobles, make a splendid affair of it.”
“The Vessels are mine. I want them now.”
“Do they not need the crown, to be potent?”
“You know that as well as I.” I watched his face for deception.
“If you can’t wield the Power, best the Vessels remain in safekeeping.”
“I’ll look after them. Uncle, don’t look so disgusted. Would you rather I went to Council and objected to having you as regent? Surely I have some friend in the meet.”
Mar gauged the shadows on the window ledge. “We’ll be late for the Rite, boy. You don’t want me as regent? Well, Soushire is eager for it, and she’s gathered two votes. Would you have Larissa speak for Caledon?”
“Lord, no!” The Lady of Soushire was obese, smelled of garlic, and boasted a foul temper.
“I admit, if you go to Council, you might shake one vote loose from me; I won’t tell you whose. I guarantee you, a Soushire regency will be the result.” He threw his cloak over his arm. “Come along, we’ll walk to the Rite together.”
“And the Vessels?”
“Are under guard.”
“On second thought, I rather admire the Lady of Soushire.”
“You’re so foolish as to do that? Well, on your own head be it.”
He’d called my bluff. I took breath to concede defeat.
He spoke first, and his tone was cross. “Very well, I’ll see you get your Vessels.” I did my best to hide my elation. “I’ll have to clear it with the Council, and that must wait until I’m regent. May Lord of Nature help you if they’re stolen.”
I nodded.
“Hurry now. Your mother waits; we must show her respect.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
Elryc bounced on his feather mattress. “We won! We won!”
“Uncle Mar gets his regency, brother.”
“But you’ll have the crown and the Power. Can Uncle Mar hurt us, then?” He sniffled.
Rustin stirred from his cushion. “Elryc, stop that confounded prancing. My head aches.”
Elryc slowed, but did not stop. “Can he, Roddy?”
“Well ... we’re safer.” I’d bearded the lion in—literally—his den. I smiled at the thought of it.
Rustin swarmed to his feet, caught Elryc’s wrist, flopped the boy onto his stomach, dropped alongside him, a firm grasp on his arm.
“Let go!” Elryc.
“I told you to be still, and you weren’t.” Rust’s eyes rose. “What worries me is—”
“Roddy, you’re King! Tell him to let me loose!”
“—the three months until coronation. Much could happen in—”
“Roddy!”
I growled, “Let go the Prince’s arm, Rust. That’s right. Now, sit on his back.” Elryc squawked. “And box his ears if he utters another sound. I never agreed to three months. I’ll talk to the Seven, and we’ll see.”
“Nearly all of them were at the Rite.”
“It wasn’t the moment.” Despite my best efforts to be a man, I’d wept like a child while the Ritemaster carried the flickering tapers three times round my mother’s draped form. To make things worse, Rustin had put his arm around me,
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