The Innocent Mage (61 page)

‘So you say now,’ retorted Jarralt. ‘And it sounds well and good in theory. But a man can change his mind, Your Highness. Especially when lured by the promise of power.’ Turning his back on the cripple he glared again at the king. ‘I said this day would come, Borne, didn’t I? Do you remember? I said it was a mistake for this Privy Council to side with the General Council and sanction the birth of a second child to your house … and a mistake it has proven to be!’

The king lifted burning green eyes to his accuser’s face. ‘Sanction? You imply there was some kind of rule-breaking, Jarralt. We broke no rule.’

‘You birthed a second child! Trevoyle’s Legacy states clearly and unequivocally: The ruling house shall spawn but one heir, lest discord and strife once more tear the land asunder. One heir, Your Majesty. And now you have two.’

‘If you’re going to quote law, my lord, do me the courtesy of quoting it accurately,’ said Borne. ‘The Legacy goes on to say: Should the ruling house be robbed of its heir by death untimely, then —’

Jarralt struck the table again. ‘But it wasn’t, was it? That is precisely my point! Your heir did not die, he —’

‘He was magickless!’ cried the king. ‘And what is that if not death, to a Doranen?’

Silence. Morg watched, mildly fascinated, as Jarralt and Holze looked anywhere but at the cripple. The king reached out his hand and laid it on his son’s shoulder. ‘Gar —’

Face white as milk, the cripple shook his head. ‘It’s all right, sir. Your point is valid.’

‘Hardly!’ said Conroyd Jarralt. ‘Magickless or not you lived. There is no provision in Trevoyle’s Legacy for a ‘ Doranen heir born without —’

‘There wasn’t then,’ interrupted Holze. ‘There is now. You helped make it so, Conroyd.’

Jarralt bowed his head. ‘Yes. To my everlasting shame, I did. In a moment of weakness I stopped my ears to the counsel of my heart and allowed myself to be swayed against my conscience by you, Holze, and you, Durm, and you, Your Majesty. When we all know you should not have had a voice in the matter at all.’

The king smiled thinly. ‘Because I had a vested interest in the outcome? Whereas you, who would have nominated your house to succeed mine, naturally had nothing but the welfare of the kingdom in mind.’

Conroyd Jarralt’s handsome face was blotched with venom and spite. ‘That would have been the proper order of things! The law made no provision for the birth of a cripple. You know it! But you pleaded and you cozened and you convinced us to make an exception. And now look at the result. Your two charming children at each other’s throats. Attacking each other with magic. This kingdom poised on the brink of anarchy. And all because of your overweening arrogance and pride. You were ever thus. All your life whatever or whoever you wanted you took, heedless of anybody’s best interests but your own.’

The king was on his feet. ‘Silence\ You go too far, Conroyd!’

‘Too far?’ Jarralt kicked back his chair and lunged, thrusting his face into the king’s. ‘I think not! I think we’ve a distance further yet to travel, Borne, you and I. This kingdom’s two Councils made a ruinous mistake in letting you and your precious, persuadable queen birth a second child. Blinded by love or seduced by sympathy or simply shouted down, we indulged your intemperate ambition and now the kingdom is asked to pay the price. Well, I say it is too high. The time has come to —’

Holze slapped his palms on the tabletop. His normally mild face was vivid with displeasure. ‘Enough, my lord!

our Majesty! This unseemly brawling will cease amediately! Are we cur dogs in the gutter, to snap and larl in such a fashion? In Barl’s name 1 tell you to be silent nd mindful of your stations!’

Shocked, shamed, the king and his councillor sank back ato their seats. Vastly entertained, Morg watched them gather heir tattered dignity and studiously examine their fingertips.

Holze glanced at the cripple, sitting in pallid, mortified silence, and said with utmost reason, ‘No mistake was made. Laws must change to reflect the current reality. When Trevoyle’s Legacy was first laid down, centuries ago, there was no record of a magickless heir ever being born. With His Highness incapable, His Majesty was to all intents and purposes childless. He was well within his rights to breed up a new heir to his crown. And since we settled this some seventeen years ago I fail to see why we must revisit the matter now!’

‘Why?’ said Jarralt, looking up. ‘Because now it appears we were a trifle premature in our proclamation of Prince Gar’s technical demise. Now it appears he is a magician of power equal to, if not greater than, his sister. Now we must contemplate a world in which they attempt to burn each other to cinders! And that returns us to my original assessment of the situation: our kingdom faces the dire prospect of a divided succession.’

The cripple sighed. ‘This afternoon’s unfortunate incident will not be repeated. You have my solemn word. Besides, it was merely a … misunderstanding.’

‘So you say. But I say we can afford no more “misunderstandings”. The next one might well do more than char a few trees and rosebushes and kill a handful of birds!’

‘Did you not hear my oath, Lord Jarralt?’ the cripple snapped. ‘Do you wish me to open a vein and write it in blood for you? I will not contest the crown.’

With a happy, inward sigh Morg cleared his throat.

The king looked grim. ‘There was no altercation. It was an unwise experiment that got out of hand. His Highness has yet to refine his magical control. Master Magician Durm will be working most closely with him to ensure such an accident does not occur again. That is the explanation to be given, should anybody ask. If I hear of a different explanation … I will know where to look.’ His gaze touched Jarralt with frost.

Impervious to cold, Jarralt sneered. ‘You expect that sorry tale to hold water?’

‘I expect everybody here to make sure it does.’

Morg watched, bubbling with private mirth, as the king and his rebellious privy councillor again locked gazes. The cripple and the religious sot held their breaths. Sadly, Jarralt this time gave ground. Lowered his eyes and nodded. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’

The king slapped the table. ‘Then we are adjourned, save for one last matter. Until further notice, while Gar devotes himself to arcane study, Asher will be the Acting Olken Administrator. As such he shall enjoy all powers and duties previously ascribed to His Highness Prince Gar in the same capacity. He will attend these Council meetings and raise his voice with impunity wheresoever he deems it appropriate. I trust, gentlemen, that when he makes his first appearance in his new position you will make him feel right welcome.’

Jarralt was displeased. ‘Are you certain that’s wise? I was told he’s been traipsing from tavern to tavern telling anyone who’ll listen that His Highness is now a “proper” Doranen. One wonders what kind of Doranen he considered the prince to be before today.’

As the cripple and the king exchanged startled glances, and Holze tut-tutted his disapproval, Morg smothered a smile. Obedient Asher, following the Master Magician’s suggestion. And in doing so, possibly — hopefully — weakening his inconvenient friendship with the cripple.

That was important. The sooner Prince Gar relied soley on the warmth and support of his tutor — kind, patient and understanding Durm — the better.

The cripple said, ‘There must be some mistake. Asher wouldn’t —’

‘No mistake,’ said Jarralt. T had it from my groom, who was in the tavern at the time. If this is an example of how the Acting Olken Administrator intends to conduct himself,

then perhaps —’

‘You give unexamined credence to servants’ gossip?’ replied the cripple. ‘You surprise me, sir.’

‘And you surprise me, Your Highness! To place your unquestioning trust in a man who would —’

‘If Asher did in fact make this announcement —’ ‘I/?’ Jarralt stabbed a pointed finger at the cripple’s flushed face. ‘So now you accuse me of lying? To the Privy Council? To His Majesty} How dare —’

The king seized his son’s wrist with crushing strength. ‘Let be. Both of you. Conroyd, Gar’s unexpected transformation is hardly a secret, seeing as it took place in front of half the City. If Asher did speak on the matter it’s hardly a crime. Surely we have more urgent matters to attend to. This Privy Council session is ended. Go about your own business, my lord. Leave Asher to my son.’

Jarralt departed, a silent snarl in his eyes. Breaking the uncomfortable silence, Holze turned to the cripple with a gentle smile. ‘Do you know, in all the unpleasantness I did not think to say how pleased I am for you, Your Highness. I know you’ll use this unexpected gift wisely. Barl’s blessings upon you, sir.’

‘Thank you, Holze,’ the cripple replied, flushing. ‘You can be sure I’ll look for your guidance in the days to come.’

As soon as the old dodderer had gone the king released his son’s wrist and pulled a face. ‘Well. That proceeded as I imagined it would.’

‘I am so sorry, sir,’ said the cripple. ‘To have exposed you thus to Conroyd Jarralt and his —’

‘He was always going to scream about a divided succession,’ the king said wearily. ‘That at least is not your fault. As for the other business …’ He frowned. ‘It’s over and done with. In the past, and best left there. I need not ask that it never be repeated?’

‘No, sir,’ the cripple agreed, subdued. ‘You needn’t. Sir, might I beg a favour?’

Fingers exploring a flaw in the wooden table, the king sighed. ‘What?’

‘While I accept — reluctantly — that for now at least I must be considered as a potential WeatherWorker-in-Waiting, need Fane be informed immediately? For the first time in years, if ever, she and I are truly talking to one another. I want to give this fledgling bond between us time to strengthen before she learns I am indeed a rival.’

Troubled, the king looked to his best friend for advice. Morg seethed. More delay? He was tired of delay, tired of waiting. He wanted this petty kingdom beaten now. Crushed now. Subordinate to his sublime domination now.

But fat Dunn would counsel caution. Would side with the cripple, not for any care of it or its feelings but to protect his precious protege Fane from distress.

He would have to follow suit.

Nodding Durm’s head, pursing Durm’s lips in a considering smile, he agreed. ‘Perhaps it would be wise, Your Majesty. Indeed, until I have had time to fully assess His Highness’s breadth and depth of skill, it might be prudent to delay any announcement. If it should prove that Prince Gar is, after all, the moon to your daugher’s sun we might well avoid any unnecessary unpleasantness.’

‘Very true,’ said the king. ‘All right. We stay silent for now. But the minute you’re sure, Durm, we must proceed. This kingdom cannot afford any more body blows. One way or another the question of the succession must be settled to my satisfaction. Soon.’

Morg smiled again, and bowed. Thinking, and so it will be settled, little king. So it will be. But to no-one’s satisfaction save my own.

In something of a self-flagellating mood, Gar headed from the Privy Council chamber to his ruined private garden. With most of it comprehensively destroyed perhaps he should take the chance to consider redesigning its layout. This time he could include a small shrine to Barl, for the offering of penance after transgression.

He found his mother there, making repairs.

Not turning at his approach, keeping her attention on the resurrection of a garden seat, she said, T suppose this was inevitable really. It’s not just your world turned topsy-turvy, it’s hers too. But we were so elated for you, your father and I, I’m afraid we neglected to consider that.’ She sighed, and with a snap of her fingers completed the transformation of charred cinders into carved wood. ‘No doubt that makes us bad parents.’

Gar slipped his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her hair. ‘It makes you nothing of the sort, Mama. You might as well say this ridiculous eruption between me and Fane makes us bad children.’

She covered his hands with hers and squeezed. ‘Who says I don’t?’

Laughing, he slid away from her to sit on the newly restored garden seat. ‘Ouch. Oh well. I can’t say a little scolding is undeserved. I’m sorry, Mama. I should never have let it get so out of hand.’

She sat beside him. ‘No, you shouldn’t,’ she said with mock severity. ‘Nor should she have used her magic as a weapon. It’s strictly forbidden, and nobody knows that better than your sister. But what’s done is done, Gar. Best that we all look to the future now.’ She patted his knee. ‘Tell me; how are you feeling? Truthfully?’

‘Truthfully? Truthfully, Mama, I’m scared spitless. My blood has turned to sparkling wine. My bones are made of molten gold. Every time I open my mouth I’m afraid I’ll breathe a cloud of butterflies into the air. The birth of magic is a grim and glorious thing.’ He hesitated. ‘Was it like that for you?’

! ‘No.’ Her expression softened and her tired eyes gazed into the past. ‘For me, magic crept like the tide upon a beach. Softly. Gradually. Lapping further and further into my life until I looked around and saw only water. I suspect it’s much the same for other Doranen. But your magic has crashed upon you violently, like a storm. And like a storm it’s left the landscape a little the worse for wear. But we can fix that, Gar. With time. With patience. Most importantly, with love.’

Gar considered the wrecked garden. ‘I hope so.’ They exchanged a brief smile. ‘Where’s Fane?’

‘In bed. Sleeping. I had Nix give her a draught. When she wakes we’ll talk sensibly, mother to daughter. We’ll work this out, Gar. We must. The kingdom depends on it. Your father depends on it.’ Something implacable stole into her voice. ‘Now, more than ever, we can’t let him down.’

Gar felt a catch in his throat. Had to blink a few times to clear his blurring vision. ‘We won’t, Mama. I won’t. I swear by Blessed Barl herself.’ He kissed his holyring hard enough to hurt. ‘No matter how this turns out, no matter what I have to do, His Majesty’s kingdom will be safe.’

She took his hand and pressed her lips to his knuckles. ‘My darling boy,’ she whispered, then released him. ‘Now run away. I want to have this garden tidied up by dinnertime and I’m sure you’ve got things to do too.’