Shards of a Broken Crown (8 page)

Miranda, looking
like a woman in her mid-twenties, smiled at her husband. “Any
joy?”

“None,”
said Pug, taking a mug of ale offered by a student who was acting as
servant to those representing the interests of Stardock in the
negotiations between the Kingdom and the Empire of Great Kesh.

“I must
confess,” observed Kalari, “these negotiations seem far
more ritualistic than I anticipated.” He sipped at a hot cup of
coffee and nodded in appreciation at the flavor of the brew. He was a
bald-headed man of middle age, still slender and fit and possessing a
penetrating pair of blue eyes. “Is it my unfamiliarity with the
nuances of the King’s Tongue, or some lack of insight into the
Keshian culture, or is this simply a restating of previous claims and
demands?”

“No,”
said Nakor, “there is nothing wrong with your appreciation of
this situation.”

“Then what
is the point?” asked Kalari. “My own Empire’s
traditions include negotiations, but usually it’s between
Tsurani Lords. I’m afraid your notion of diplomacy is a little
foreign to me.”

Kalari had been
sent by the Assembly of Magicians on Kelewan, to insure that whatever
interests Tsuranuanni had in Stardock were represented. Trading
between the former enemies, the Kingdom of the Isles and the Empire
of Tsuranuanni, had been cyclical over the years. For nearly fifty
years a major upheaval in Tsurani society had resulted from the rise
to prominence of House Acoma and their innovative leader, the Lady
Mara, the Servant of the Empire. Her son, Justin, had ruled the
Empire despite several political plots to return the Empire to the
older traditions Mara had set aside. Turmoil had resulted from many
of the changes, at various times limiting trade between the two
worlds to a trickle, but currently a stable period had endured almost
ten years, and the Empire wished to see nothing disrupt their
commerce with Midkemia.

Pug said, “Well,
if you consider us to be Thuril, but with more swords, you might
consider the needs we face.”

Kalari nodded.
Thuril had been the only nation to resist his empire on the
homeworld, and had forced the Empire to a guarded peace. “Well,
since the Servant of the Empire overturned so many of the Assembly’s
prerogatives, we’ve had to constantly relearn things. I think
endless babble around a table to no point, though, may be a difficult
process to master.”

Nakor laughed.
“Actually, it’s really easy. That’s why diplomats
do it so much.”

Kalari regarded
the strange fellow. Nakor had been given his seat at the negotiations
by Pug. Known as Milamber on the Tsurani homeworld, Pug was a figure
of legend, almost as awe-inspiring as the Lady Mara. That fact alone
had blunted some of the Tsurani Great One’s astonishment at
Nakor being included in these sessions. To all outward appearances,
the self-styled “High Priest” of some unknown order was
nothing more than a ragged vagabond, perhaps a confidence trickster
who played the fool. Yet there was something about the odd little man
that made Kalari cautious of judging him too quickly. Behind his
constant irreverent humor an intellect of great scope was at work,
and every fiber of Kalari’s being told him a man of great
magical ability also wore the guise of a common gambler recently
turned man of religion. He might claim powers that came from the
Gods, or merely “tricks” as he often commented, but
Kalari sensed this was a being of power second only to Pug’s at
the table.

Kalari put aside
his nagging suspicions about Nakor. Whatever else, he did find the
man from the nation of Isalan in Great Kesh amusing and amiable.
“Well, then,” said the magician, “you’ll have
to brief me on how best to proceed with this pointless wrangling.”

Nakor said,
“Find someone else. I think them just as tedious as you do.”
Nakor took a sip of ale. “Besides, the matter of how things end
up has already been decided.”

“Really?”
said Pug. “Care to share with us your reasoning?”

Nakor grinned,
as he always did when about to share the gift of his perceptions and
insights with the others. “It’s easy.” He pointed
around the room. “You could figure this out, too, if you
tried.” Miranda exchanged wry smiles with her husband. Nakor
continued, “The Kingdom was hurt, but not fatally. Kesh knows
this. They have spies. They know that while the King wants troops
back in the East, it’s not because there’s any real
trouble there. If Kesh makes trouble, the King orders the Prince to
keep the soldiers. And if Kesh waits until the Armies of the East
leave, that gives Patrick more time to dig in, get ready, and deal
with any Keshian adventures.”

Nakor shook his
head. “No, Kesh knows that they lost what the Kingdom gave them
when they tried to press their advantage. They know the best they can
do is maybe some trade concession or another, but they’ll never
get back what they were granted for protecting the Kingdom’s
southern flank.” He glanced from face to face. “They’re
trying to figure out how to admit publicly they were stupid without
admitting they were stupid.”

Kalari laughed.
Even the usually taciturn Kalied was forced to smile. Pug said, “So
it’s a matter of honor?”

Nakor shrugged.
“More a matter of avoiding punishment back home. Generals Rufi
ibn Salamon and Behan Solan have much explaining to do to their
Emperor when they return to the City of Kesh. They’ve got to be
given a really good story to explain how they lost by getting greedy
what they had gained by the Emperor being generous. You know they had
no authority from Kesh to try to grab all of the vale, don’t
you?”

Pug fixed Nakor
with a narrow gaze. “And how do you know that?” asked
Pug.

Nakor said, “I
move around. I listen to things. Generals may keep their mouths shut,
but soldiers talk. Soldiers serve in the General’s tent, then
they talk to traders and camp girls, and the traders and camp girls
talk to wagon drivers, and pretty soon everyone knows what the
General’s doing.

“Kesh
doesn’t want a war, even if the Kingdom is weak. They’ve
never fully pacified the southern nations below the Girdle of Kesh.
The Keshian Confederacy would rise up again at any excuse, and your
King knows this. So, the Empire doesn’t want war, and the
Kingdom doesn’t want another war—they’re busy with
the one they have now— and we all sit around while the outcome
is already known.”

“Save one
thing,” said Pug.

Nakor said,
“Stardock.”

Kalied said,
“That matter is settled.”

Pug shrugged. “I
know it is. I told Nakor to make whatever deal necessary to get you
to help save the Kingdom; the threat of you acting against Kesh if
they turned aggressor tipped the balance in our favor. But there’s
still the matter of explaining to the King how I managed to give away
one of his duchies.”

Kalied said, “I
am dining with the members of the council. As Robert de Lyes has
decided to continue serving in Darkmoor with the Prince, we need to
replace him on the council.” He rose and said, “But keep
in mind, Pug, despite your legendary power and our abiding respect
for what you founded here, Stardock is no longer your personal
fiefdom. We have Nakor’s pledge that you would honor the
arrangements he made to gain the Kingdom our aid. The council now
governs, not on your behalf while you’re off somewhere, but on
behalf of all those who reside here. You are entitled to no more or
less a voice than any other member of the Academy.”

Pug was silent
for a moment, then said, “Very well. I will honor that pledge
and insure the Kingdom acknowledges your autonomy.”

“Autonomy?”
said Kalied. “That’s an interesting choice of words. We
prefer to think of it as independence.”

Nakor waved away
the remark. “Don’t be stupid. Pug can convince the King
to let you govern yourself, but don’t expect him to make the
King accept the proposition of an independent entity located entirely
within the boundaries of the Kingdom. Besides, while you protect the
Kingdom from Kesh, the Kingdom also protects you from Kesh. Do you
think for a moment the Emperor would be as generous?”

Kalied said
nothing for a long moment, then said, “Very well. I will
present this to the council, and I am sure they will choose not to be
‘stupid’ in this matter.” With a dark look directed
at Nakor, he bowed to the others in the room and departed.

Kalari turned to
Nakor and said, “I assume your earlier comments on diplomacy
are more in the theoretical area rather than from practice?”

Miranda laughed.
Pug joined in. “Well, I still have a lot to explain to the
Prince, and I think there’s no putting that off. I suspect that
Patrick will be even less enchanted with the idea of an autonomous
Stardock within his borders than Kalied.”

Miranda said,
“We go to Darkmoor?”

Pug nodded.
“Nakor?”

Nakor nodded.
“I’m done here. The Blue Riders are again ensconced among
the students, to make sure magicians who train here don’t get
too stuffy. Besides, I need to spend some time with Dominic and some
of the other Ishapians who have ended up next to the Prince. Let me
fetch Sho Pi, and we’ll all go together.”

He left, and
Kalari said, “Pug, a question.”

Pug turned to
regard the Tsurani Great One.

“Since
coming to Stardock on behalf of the Emperor, I’ve pieced
together a view of how things stood here. I’m curious as to why
you, yourself, didn’t come to the Assembly and seek our aid in
dealing with the threats from this Emerald Queen.” He lowered
his voice. “I’m not sure what fully transpired here, but
I get the strong impression that a great deal more was at stake than
most people understand.”

Miranda and Pug
exchanged glances, and Pug said, “Yes, but I am not free to
share details.

“As for
why we didn’t seek Tsurani aid, our relationships with the
Empire have never been the same since Makala.”

Kalari said,
“Ah,” and nodded in understanding. A Tsurani Great One,
Makala had come to the Prince of Krondor’s court years before,
ostensibly to act as a liaison between the Assembly on Kelewan and
the Prince, but in fact had come as a self-appointed spy determined
to discover the secret of what truly happened at Sethanon at the end
of the Riftwar.

He had been
motivated by loyalty to the Empire and the fear of some Kingdom plot
or weapon of great power, and had actually discovered the secret of
the Lifestone. Through agents who chanced upon one another near
Sethanon, he had become a party to a conspiracy involving the
Brotherhood of the Dark Path. Only the intervention of a renegade
moredhel chieftain had prevented a major catastrophe.

Makala and four
of his allies from the Tsurani homeworld had ensorceled the great
dragon oracle that lived below the city of Sethanon, and were on the
verge of unlocking the Lifestone when Pug and his companions had
arrived. That secret had died with Makala and his four companions,
deep in the chamber below the city. His betrayal of the trust given
him had strained relationships between the Kingdom and Empire for a
decade. Only members of the Assembly on Kelewan and a few trusted
advisors to the Prince of Krondor knew of the incident; it served as
a cautionary tale on both sides of the rift. Since then, all business
between the Empire of Tsuranuanni and the Kingdom of the Isles had
been conducted in the most formal, cautious of fashions. More than
once it had been suggested that the rift between the worlds be
permanently closed, yet trading between them continued. But it was
now limited to the one rift located on Stardock, hence the Empire’s
presence at these negotiations. They were anxious that this one
passage between the worlds be kept open.

“Yet,”
said Kalari, “it seemed prudent to you to request our help in
that display of might we arranged for the Keshians?”

Pug shook his
head and shrugged. “Nakor.”

Kalari returned
the smile. “He is the most unusual fellow.”

Pug agreed.

Miranda said,
“What will you tell Patrick?”

Pug let out a
long, tired sigh. “Many things; none of which he will enjoy
hearing.”

Prince Patrick
appeared on the verge of rage. His normally light complexion reddened
and his voice rose. “Autonomous? What is that supposed to
mean?” he shouted.

Pug sighed.
Unlike his predecessor, Prince Arutha, Patrick lacked vision. Pug
reminded himself that in most ways the Prince was a young man, and
unlike Prince Arutha, who had leadership thrust upon him, a young man
untempered in the cauldron of war. While his city had been destroyed,
Patrick had been safe in the East, at the King’s insistence.
Pug suspected much of Patrick’s ill humor came from frustration
and his inability to do other than his father’s bidding.

With even tones,
Pug said, “The magicians at Stardock require—”

“Require!”
shouted Patrick. “They
require
!” He stood up
from his throne, formerly the state chair of the Baron of Darkmoor,
and took a step down to stand directly before Pug. “Let me tell
you what their King requires. He requires their unswerving loyalty
and
obedience
!”

Pug looked at
his grandson, the Duke Arutha, who gave his head a slight shake,
indicating there was little use in talking to the Prince when he was
in a rage. Pug didn’t care. He was three times the Prince’s
age and had seen more than most men did in a dozen lifetimes and he
was tired. “Patrick,” he said evenly. “Sometimes
you lose.”

“These are
our citizens! They live within the borders of the Kingdom.”

Nakor, who had
been silently standing to one side with his student, Sho Pi, said,
“Only if the old borders are still there, Highness.”

Patrick’s
head came around and he said, “Who gave you leave to talk,
Keshian?”

Nakor returned
an insolent grin. “Your King, many years ago, if you remember?
And I am Isalani.”