would-be mage and accomplished swordsman, who styled himself 'Lord' rather than Baron, and had largely ignored the decrees and writ of the Unicorn Throne for almost a decade. Some said Arlavaunta had been called forth from her lair to attack the king by his spells…because Baerimgrim had been riding with many armed knights at his back to demand Tholone's renewed loyalty, and long-withheld taxes, when the dragon's attack had come.
'A flock of vultures,' the king muttered, watching the liveried lackeys drifting into the throne room. 'None of them people I'd choose to have standing by, watching me die.'
Court Mage Ilgrist smiled thinly and replied, 'Your Majesty has the right of it, to be sure.' He made a small hand sign to one of the throne guards who held the balconies this day, to make stone cold sure no baronial crossbowmen just happened to idly mount the back stairs to gain a better view of things. The officer nodded and sent three guards down those stairs, one bearing a horn and the other two walking with slow, measured tread, the banner of the Blood Unicorn borne stretched out in splendor between them. It showed the leaping crimson 'horned horse' forever silhouetted against a full moon, on a glittering cloth-of-gold field. When the banner had been laid flat at the king's feet, the guard with the horn blew a single high, ringing note, to signify open court was now in session…and the king would entertain public deputations and entreaties from all folk, no matter how high or low.
There were a few commoners in the hall this day… folk who always watched the king, or who'd not have missed today's expected danger and excitement no matter what doom might confront them…but none of them dared push forward through the throngs of baronial men. The throne faced a half-ring of armsmen who were glaring hard-eyed in every direction whilst fondling the hilts of half-drawn daggers all the while, if he'd had the strength, King Baerimgrim would have risen and walked about mockingly introducing them all to each other.
As it was, he just sat and waited to see who of the five circling vultures was boldest. War would come no matter what was decided here today … but he could do Galadorna one last service and leave its throne as strongly held as possible, to keep the bloodshed, if the gods smiled, paltry.
The Bear would stand with him, if need be. No prize, but the best of a bad lot. He believed in laws and doing the right thing … but how much of that was rooted in his firm belief that as senior Baron among the five, and head of the oldest and largest noble house, the right thing meant Belundrar on the throne?
It was hard to say which was the most dangerous threat: Tholone's loose-leashed magelings, Maethor's spies and poisons, or Hothal's brute blades-enough-to-reap-all. And what sort of surprise blade had Feldrin's gold been used to hire … or was he supporting one of the others? Or were the Lords of Laothkund or other covetous foreign powers dealing with him?
Ah, it began. Striding out from among the tensely waiting warriors toward Baerimgrim came a young, black- bearded man in the green and silver of Hothal — one of the few who'd not come to court this day full-armored for battle.
The envoy bowed low before the throne, and said, 'Most gracious Majesty, all Galadorna grieves at your condition. My Lord Hothal knows deep sorrow at the fate of royal Baerimgrim but grieves also for the future of fair Galadorna if the Unicorn Throne falls empty, to be fought over at this time…or worse, offers sitting room to one whose malice or blundering ignorance will lead the realm into ruin.'
'You make your concerns clear enough, sir,' the king said then, his dry tones awakening chuckles all over the room. 'Bring you also solutions, I trust?'
The reddening envoy responded sharply, 'Majesty, I do. I speak on behalf of Hothal, Baron of Galadorna, who begs leave to take the crown at this time, peaceably'…his voice rose to ride over sounds of derision and dispute from many in the chamber…'and with fair regard for the rights and desires of others. My lord requests this honor not idly, he has been most diligent on Galadorna's behalf and has bade me reveal thus: in return for promises that bright-visaged peace and fair-handed justice shall continue to flourish in the realm, he enjoys the full support of the most puissant lord Feldrin, Baron of Galadorna, which that noble personage shall himself confirm.'
All eyes turned to Feldrin, who smiled in his customarily sly, sidelong way, his eyes meeting no one's gaze… and nodded, slowly and deliberately.
'Moreover,' the envoy continued, 'My lord hath spoken with the enemies of Galadorna, with an eye to keeping them from our borders and out of our purses, that the land remain free and prosperous, with no shadow of war-fear upon our thresholds. In return for most favored prices on silver and iron from our deep forest mines, the Lords of Laothkund have agreed to a treaty of mutual peace and border respect.'
Cries of anger, oaths, and gasps of exaggerated horror made such a din in the chamber that the envoy paused for some time before adding, 'My Lord Hothal submits that as he leads a force that can best keep the realm safe and prosperous, the crown should pass to him, and…for the good of Galadorna…his rule be proclaimed as legitimate by yourself, Grave Majesty.'
There was another uproar, quelled in an instant by the deep rumble of Baron Belundrar as he lurched forward to stand beside the throne. With obvious reluctance in his tone and anger in his eyes, he said, 'I share the anger of many here that any Galadornan would deal in secret with the wolves of Laothkund. Yet…'
He paused to sweep the room with his glare, his green eyes fierce under his bushy black brows and his battered nose jutting like a drawn blade, before he resumed, 'Yet I will support this bid for the crown, scheming though it may seem, so long as the rule of law and right be upheld. Galadorna must be ruled by the strongest…and must not become a land of knifings and monthly intrigues or executions.'
As the Bear stepped back to better survey all of the doors once more, a murmur of agreement arose at his words…but again the talk stilled in a moment as another baron stepped forth and purred, 'A moment, brave Belundrar! You speak as if you see no acceptable alternative to this admitted scheming, to guard the safety of fair Galadorna in the years ahead. Well, then, listen to me, and I'll provide an offer unstained by dealing with enemies in secret.'
Lord Tholone ignored Belundrar's instinctive snarl and continued, turning in a slow circle with his hand out, to survey all in the room. 'You've heard very real and loyal concerns for the safety of our beloved realm. I share that love for Galadorna and worry for the security of us all. Unlike others, however, I've busied myself not with dark back-passage deals, but with assembling the finest company of mages this side of the sea!'
There was snorts and spitting as many warriors expressed their disgust at any reliance on wizards… and the presence of hired outlander mages here.
A cold-eyed Tholone raised his purring voice a notch and continued firmly, 'Only my mages can guarantee the peace and prosperity we all seek. To those who mistrust magic, I ask this: if you truly want peace, do you hire and consort with battle-hungry warriors? Galadorna scarcely needs such bloody folk as its lords.'
He left a little silence then for murmurs of agreement but heard instead, in that roomful of fearful courtiers and simmering warriors, only stony silence and quickly added, 'I command magic enough to make Galadorna not only safe but great…and to deal with any traitors in this chamber who plan to put other interests before the security and rebuilding of the Realm of the Blood Unicorn.'
'Bah! We'll have no twisted sorcerers ruling the realm!' someone shouted from the press of armored men around Baron Hothal, and several voices echoed, 'Twisted sorcerers!' in tones of anger. The king and the Court Mage Ilgrist, who was standing by the royal shoulder, exchanged glances of rueful amusement.
The tumult, which had reached the point of daggers glinting here and there as they were drawn, fell abruptly still and silent once more.
The most handsome of the barons of Galadorna had stepped forth, the smile that charmed Galadornan ladies all too often flashing forth like a deft and graceful sword. Baron Maethor might well have been a crown prince, so richly was he dressed, so perfect his flowing mane of brown hair, and so smoothly confident his manner. 'It grieves me, men of Galadorna,' he said, 'to see such anger and open lawlessness in this chamber. This blustering of those who walk around with ready swords, and the merciless will to use them, is the very thing that must be stopped if the Galadorna we all love is to be saved from sinking into … a land not worth saving or dwelling in, just another warlord's den.'
He turned to look around the room, ruffled cloak swirling grandly, every eye upon him, and added, 'Therefore, my duty to the realm stands clear. I must and shall support Lord Tholone…'
There was a gasp of surprise, and even Tholone's jaw dropped. Maethor and Tholone were considered the two strongest barons by many, and everyone in the realm knew they were far from friends.
'…the one man among us who can make a difference. I must go to bed this night knowing I have done my best for Galadorna … and I can only do that if Lord Tholone willingly gives the most trustworthy of us all, good Baron Belundrar, the post of seneschal of Nethrar, in sole charge of all justice throughout the realm.'
