The Barrow (18 page)

There were also the first courtiers of the season from the two Danian kingdoms of the west, Dain Dania and Erid Dania, sent on some errand or another by their kings or earls, but none that he knew personally. The chief vassals of the Danian west would not likely see the High King until the Tourney circuit during the summer, which started in the Plain of Flowers between the two Danian kingdoms. His father always liked to say that was why he preferred the Court in winter, as usually there were very few Danians present, since most of them were from the west or the north shore and wintered at their estates.

A group of Hemispian exiles clustered around Belerin of the House Nisander, who had once been Prime Minister of the Hemapoline League of Cities across the
Mera Argenta
, and who had almost daily come to the High King's Hall for thirteen years in the vain hopes that Awain might supply him with money or knights to take back his position. Clerks, scribes, Divine King priests, Inquisitors, handmaidens, and heralds milled about and came and went, adding to the throng, but as far as Arduin was concerned they were mostly just filler, bodies of no importance that simply took up space.

They were all awaiting news of whether or not the High King would be holding an open session of his Court that afternoon, or hoping against the odds that the doors to the inner halls would open and a messenger would appear and summon some lucky aspirant into the presence of the High King (or at the very least to speak to some other member of the High King's inner circle). Arduin could remember the days when on occasion the doors would open and a herald would call out his name or his father's, and they would be swept inside past envious rivals for a private audience. But those days were long gone, and Arduin knew he would wait in vain for such a moment to occur again. If an open session of the High King's Court was called, however, then at least Arduin could go and be in the presence of the High King or his assembled councilors, and hope that by some chance their gaze would fall upon him, and perhaps be reminded of his value and his worth and not the scandal that had tarnished his family's name and position.

Arduin hoped he would stand out amongst the crowd, though not overly so; he had dressed in a grey silk arming doublet, with the shield and
auroch
horns that were the sigil of his house embroidered in gold over his left breast, along with the cadence mark that proclaimed him the first son of the house. He wore the leg pieces of his best harness over his hose: gold-chased cuisses, knee cops, and greaves, and finally stiff leather shoes. As a knight he could appear armed in the city and the High King's Hall, and his embroidered leather gauntlet gloves were tucked into the black sword belt decorated with gold ornaments that adorned his waist, and his sword and dagger hung from a pair of black scabbards also decorated in gold. They were a matched set, the belt and scabbards, a gift of the High King himself, no less, for one of his victories in the Tournaments, and he had worn them to remind others of what he had once been, and so he stood there and hoped and prayed for a miracle.

But that morning, the only time the doors had opened had been upon the arrival of an emissary of King Gavant Peliate of Huelt, who was apparently expected and immediately whisked inside.

And so eventually out of boredom his eyes had fallen upon one homely woman also fresh arrived, and speaking animatedly with several Ladies from the Crown Prince's contingent. Her face was long and somewhat horsey, with too much makeup to Arduin's tastes, and her blonde hair was frizzy and unkempt, threatening to come undone from under the bonnet and veil that was unfortunately not pulled over her visage. He had kept Sirs Helgi Vogelwain and Holgar Torgisbain with him as his retainers, having sent his knights Sirs Clodin Perwain, Theodras Clowain, and Theodore Lis Cawain off on other errands, and the two men scanned the crowd until they spotted the woman he was asking about.

“I'm not sure, my Lord,” Sir Helgi finally said with a frown. “I do not recognize her. And for that I find myself thankful.”

Sir Oswin Clodias, an older knight of the High King's own household, happened to be passing by, and hearing their conversation stopped for a moment. Arduin remembered him as a decent sort, and sure enough he squinted and chipped in. “Oh, that's the wife of one of Bessiter's vassals, usually stays at their country keep,” he said. “I heard she decided to come to Court to see if her presence could gain some favor for her husband, but he'd have been better off if she'd just stayed at home.” He shook his head and sighed. “That's the quality of the women we're getting in the Court these days. It's not like the old days, when your sister still made her appearances here,” he said to Arduin, who in surprise looked for some hint of irony or mockery in the knight's face, but could see none. All he saw was pity and patronizing sympathy, which might in fact have been worse, but at the moment he'd take it. “Please give her my best, and greet her for me in the name of the King of Heaven,” Sir Oswin said with a slight bow, and then he moved off into the crowd.

Arduin was so startled by the simple kindness that he forgot to say anything in response, and he chided himself in his head.
This is the whole reason you're here, you idiot
, he thought. He thought for a moment of running after Sir Oswin, but he knew instantly how stupid and foolish that would look, and instead shook his head.
Patience, patience
.
Don't be like Father, running around kissing everyone's ass. Look at it as a small building block, and build on it the next time you see him
.

“He's right, you know,” said Sir Holgar. “I must say it seems as though someone's hidden all the jewels. Where's Lady Sigalla? Or Lady Ilona, Duke Tenreuth's daughter? Or the Baroness of Karsiris? She might be married, but at least she makes for something pretty to look at.”

“They are all at the city house of the Baron of Djarfort,” said a clerk standing right behind them that Arduin hadn't noticed. “The Baron's daughter, Lady Silga, has come of age and the Baron's wife, the Baroness Siglette, is throwing a small afternoon revel to celebrate, and prepare her for the coming season.”

“Thank you . . .” said Arduin to the young clerk, a young man of Danian lineage but dressed in the colors of the High King, as he held out a silver coin, and trailed off, one eyebrow raised.

“Gerard, youngest son of Baron Jonas of Cermore,” supplied the young man. “I have the pleasure of knowing your brother, Harvald, who works in the Chancery with me.”

“Ah, well met, then, young Gerard, and my thanks once again,” said Arduin, as Gerard pocketed the coin and moved off with a smart bow.
Such small victories
, he thought, and sighed.
And thanks to Harvald, of all people
. Lady Silga, then, would be one of the prospective Queens of the Tournaments this coming circuit. Arduin wondered briefly whether this news could be of any use to the fortunes of his family; he knew his father would be eager to find him a bride this coming season as he had been every recent season, but given the tarnished name of their family, there had simply been no suitable matches offered that his father would consider. Lady Silga came from a great family in the Kingdom of Dainphalia, however, and would certainly be of the proper breeding and background for a match. He suddenly wondered if that was why his father had hurried off with the Grand Duke, as King Colin was also reported on the Plain of Gavant. His face soured, imagining his father trying desperately to impress the King of Dainphalia, who despite his excellent pedigree had always struck Arduin as a stuck-up boor.

He tried to picture Lady Silga in his head, and remembered a pretty young thing at one of the dances at the Tournament of Gavant a year or two ago.
Pretty enough if I remember right
, he thought,
but once you've seen the sun, all other things in the sky do not seem quite so bright
. Still, a marriage to a Djarfort would do wonders for their position, and Arduin knew his duty.

This should have been good news, then, or at least something to potentially act on, but the more he thought about it, the more pained he became. And not only because he knew that there was probably no chance for a marriage. A time had been when no revel of such a sort in this city would have been considered complete without his sister's presence, and she would have been amongst the first to receive the gilded invitations that marked such an auspicious event for a young woman of breeding and position. But that was in the days when he and his family were amongst the High King's favorites, and had moved through a crowd such as this as men of power and influence, rather than standing as he did now on the periphery amongst the other beggars and hopefuls they had become. Because of the scandal.
Because of his sister
.

In his mind's eye there was a flash of memory:
a glorious pale body, a beautiful voice crying out in passion and then in surprise and fear
.

And then in a second it was gone, willed away by steely discipline.

Arduin stared up at the banners hanging above the massive doors to the inner halls, depicting the Royal Wyvern of the line of Urfortias in dazzling gold thread, and used the image to calm himself despite the bitter taste in his mouth.
Duty to the High King and the honor of my family above all else
, he thought.
He is a Vassal of the Divine King, and his words are the words of the Divine King
. He let his eyes wander about, falling on the unkind faces of leering sycophants, the desperate and the bored milling about the hall, for all the world like a pack of jackals out in the desert, waiting for the lion to finish with its meal. He watched the horse-faced woman married to one of the Baron of Bessiter's vassals talking and talking, braying like an ass, oblivious to the mocking looks of the Ladies about her.
Is this what our great line has been reduced to?
he wondered.
Is this what I have been reduced to? To wait all day, for a few words of a knight's pity, news of a party my sister wasn't invited to, and the name of some useless clerk who knows my useless brother, and therefore thinks he knows me?
It was enough to make a man weep, had he been the weeping sort.

He turned to Sirs Helgi and Holgar. “Right. I think it's time to go,” he said to them quietly. “I have had my fill for the day.”

The trio turned and headed for the nearest stairs, his household knights falling in silently behind him. As they did, Arduin could see a slight commotion as the nearby crowd parted for some nobles of higher station. He strained for a moment to see who it was, and saw that the courtiers were giving a very wide berth to Lord Rohan Brigadim and Duke Pergwyn Urfortias of Enlos, a distant cousin to the High King, and the entourage of armored knights from the Duke's personal household that trailed behind them.

He didn't blame the courtiers, for it was hard for Arduin to think of a more intimidating pair in the High King's Hall that day. Duke Pergwyn was one of the High King's most trusted battle lords, perhaps second only to the Grand Duke Owen Lis Red, and he had once taken a sword cut to his right brow and cheek that had left a deep white scar down across his visage and taken his right eye with it. A polished white stone now nestled in the empty socket, and it gave him a decidedly otherworldly quality that spooked the superstitious in particular, looking for all the world like the Evil Eye out of story and fable, and some whispered that he actually had that power. He clearly relished the effect it had, cutting a rakish and bold figure with slicked-back blond hair, lamb chop sideburns, and a thick mustache; his gold chain of office hung thick with power over a long sable coat and his embroidered red arming doublet. Lord Rohan, on the other hand, didn't
look
very intimidating—indeed, by outward appearance and dress he was virtually indistinguishable from any of the dozen or so clerks and under-secretaries in the Chancery that milled about the hall—and he had the generally unimpressive title of “Lord of the Keys” which he even shared with Lord Baldwin, but the tall, thin Danian was nicknamed the King's Shadow and widely known to be the High King's spymaster, a man who delved into the darkest and deadliest affairs in the realm.

Arduin often thought it ironic that a man who worked with secrets was so widely identified. “How can what you do be a secret, if everyone knows who you are?” he once asked Harvald at their evening supper, as he knew that Harvald sometimes saw Lord Rohan working about the Chancery and the High King's Hall.

“Smoke and mirrors, my dear brother,” Harvald had laughed. “
Smoke
and
mirrors
. Everyone assumes it's true that Lord Rohan is the King's Shadow, but no one knows it for absolute certain, and uncertainty always breeds doubt, and makes men pause when they should act. Besides, say it's true; what would anyone do about it? I suppose an enemy of the High King could kill him, but he'd just get replaced, and then you'd have to figure out who the new spymaster was.” Harvald had been quite tipsy that evening, and had leaned over to loudly whisper. “Some at the Chancery think it's really someone else that's the spymaster, and that Lord Rohan is just the man they point to as the distraction. But I'll tell you what I think; I think there is no spymaster at all, no mysterious order of royal assassins waiting in the shadows, just a few rumors that a clever man like Rohan has spread to give himself an air of importance that have taken on a life of their own. I mean, no one's going to actually ask the High King to confirm that Rohan is his Shadow, are they? No one's actually going to ask the High King if he has trained assassins that do his secret bidding, are they?
You are what people think you are
, brother. And a man who knows how to use smoke and mirrors can make himself look much larger than he actually is.”

Arduin had disapproved of his brother's argument; after all, everyone thought they were a ruined family marred by scandal and dishonor, and while he had to admit there was some surface truth to it, Arduin most certainly did not agree with the notion that that was who they were. No, for Arduin there was a deep distinction between the current reputation of the Orwains of Araswell and their truth: theirs was a proud family, a great family of ancient lineage, and he had been an honorable King's Champion, and would be so again.