“I cannot say how long this crusade will last, or if it will even end during our lifetimes, for that matter. Regardless, if you are willing, I think it’s time that we put an end to the ‘royal courtship’ and began planning for-the future.”
She laughed lightly, positively delighted with the way he had put it. “Marriage? Is that the word you sought, your majesty?”
Melicard nodded with mock severity. “Yes, I think so.”
Her kiss proved to be the proper response. As with the false arm, she hardly noticed that a part of the lips that touched her own was not real. The elfwood was wood only if the two of them saw it so. Now, their belief made it flesh.
“Your-majesties.” Quorin’s voice threw a deep chill on the day, dousing even the fires of happiness that had enveloped Erini during Melicard’s proposal. Still, there was some pleasure in seeing the look on the counselor’s face. He was confused and livid, and both those emotions were barely being kept in check. Erini gave him a polite but false smile.
“What is it, Quorin?” Melicard, unlike his future bride, bared his teeth in something that could never be termed a smile. Its ferocity surprised the advisor, who had probably never had it turned on him before. “I left orders that no one was to disturb us. That included you, I believe.”
“Forgive me, my lord… I was under the impression…” He stared at the princess, who had the feeling that the man had not expected to find the two of them in so intimate a moment.
“Since you are here, Quorin, I have something for you to do.”
“My lord?” Feral eyes drifted to Erini.
“Announce that, with the campaign underway and a new era beginning in which Talak will be at the forefront, the Princess Erini of Gordag-Ai has consented to be my queen. We will be married in a citywide ceremony in-how long would you say, my princess?”
She gave Melicard a smile. At last! “Since this marriage was arranged before I could walk, there is little preparation needed on my part. I would prefer it as soon as possible.”
By now, the counselor had recovered somewhat. With a slight gleam in his eyes, he quickly said, “It would be remiss to have a less-than-regal wedding ceremony, your majesty. The princess’s family will wish to attend and all of the nobles from both city-states will demand their rights, too. Such an event calls for extravagance.”
Erini grew cold. “I’ve never been one for extravagance. If there is someone who can marry us now, so much the better.”
Melicard patted her hand. “My sentiments exactly, but Quorin is, unfortunately, correct. We owe your family and the people a ceremony-a festival even.”
“One month, your majesty! If I can help organize several thousand soldiers, a wedding will seem simple in comparison! One month!”
“That long?” The king seemed more reluctant now. “I was hoping two or three weeks at most. Make it a smaller ceremony. The nobles and the royal family of Gordag-Ai. Announce that a festival for the people will commence two weeks after that. They’ll understand.”
Quorin sighed in evident defeat. “Two weeks, then. May I be the first to extend my congratulations to both of you.”
Melicard thanked him, but Erini could only nod her head. As the advisor turned to leave-supposedly to begin those preparations, especially the announcements that would have to be carried by courier to Gordag-Ai-the princess could not help thinking that he had given in too easily. In fact, it seemed that his main purpose had only been to assure that the wedding did not take place immediately. A month or two weeks; a delay was a delay.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I just wish we could be married now.”
“That would be pleasant, but we’re already ignoring protocol. By rights, the courtship was to last a full month and the wedding date should have been set from four to six months later.”
“Months in which anything could happen. Our fathers actually decided that?”
“It was how they were married to our mothers. Royalty sometimes requires setting odd examples. Enough of that. Now that Quorin has succeeded in interjecting his presence into my day, I am reminded of work that must be taken care of. The campaign has begun, but I have people to govern, too.”
“If I am to be queen, should I not learn how you govern your people?”
Melicard smiled. “You have a point, though I fear that you will only distract me from my duties. Very well. Come with me and see how I protect my children. Perhaps you will even have a few suggestions on ways I can improve.”
She refrained from commenting, wondering how he would react to her opinions.
As they left the terrace, Erini noted how the guards appeared to have been rotated. These were two new soldiers, men the princess vaguely recalled seeing in the patrol that had stopped her when she had been leaving the garden with Drayfitt. Ostlich’s patrol.
“You’re leaving me again,” Melicard whispered from her side. “You have a mind that certainly loves to travel.”
Erini suddenly tightened her grip on the king’s arm. Had it not been the one made of elfwood, it was likely she would have cut off blood to the limb. Melicard’s final words had struck her hard, for, as if having a premonition, she had seen herself leaving her betrothed-but only because both of them were dead.
SHADE WATCHED THE column come to a halt from what little remained of the tower he had usurped.
The tower had been built long ago as part of a sister city to Talak. However, at some point in recent times- recent time to the hooded spellcaster being anything in the past few centuries-the other city had been destroyed. The expedition steered clear of the crumbling tower, possibly because they felt that the ghosts of the dead would put a curse on their crusade.
It is not the ethereal phantoms of your minds that you must fear, the warlock thought with something almost approaching indifference. What became of Talak’s great army did not interest him; what became of Drayfitt did. The elderly sorcerer was the only link he had to the spell. There were things he needed to know, things that had again escaped his mind after his brief fling with omniscience. He cursed the personality that had been dominant then. Instead of working with that knowledge, it had chosen to relax, to taunt, and to play the fool. There was little to redeem in any of his past incarnations. Madmen and fools all of them. To Shade, they were different people, not worthy of the Vraad race.
It had taken an accident to change things. To his regret, however, Drayfitt’s misuse of the one spell offered Shade both immortality and final death. All that mattered was time.
I am Vraad. Tezerenee. The dragon banner rests in my hands now. Which tent would be the gaunt mortal’s tent? Shade blinked and his view changed to a close-up of the massive camp, despite the fact that they were more than an hour to the south. He had no qualms about altering his body to suit his needs. Shape-shifting, however, was a costly and difficult spell for most sorcerers, and actual physical change was only a last resort because it required the most delicate of manipulations. They feared disrupting the natural forces of this world, something that had never stopped the Vraad. It was so very hard to believe that these people were descendents of his kind-except that there had been those, like the Bedlams, who had proved that magic was still the ultimate tool.
“Cabe,” he muttered, recalling the first time they had met. The young boy had been frightened out of his senses, not understanding what he was.
A movement in the camp disturbed his reverie. Shade frowned, wondering why he should spend time reminiscing about something so inconsequential. This was not the first time, either. Everything he had done in the last few days had stirred some memory-and with the memories came emotions. The Vraad had never been immune to emotion; they had, in fact, been slaves to their passions at times. Yet, the memories he found he could not purge concerned these lesser creatures or those who could now only be called his enemies. It made no sense. They were transitory lives for the most part; thralls for his will as had been the way before the journey to this place.
He was saved further introspection by the appearance of his quarry.
Drayfitt looked worn out, unaccustomed, it seemed, to riding long distances. Shade clucked his disapproval; a competent spellcaster would have created his own, more comfortable transport and, since his companions were apparently mundane in nature, travelled at the head of the column as its supreme commander. Any idiotic officer who tried to argue otherwise would find himself without a mouth to curse with.
Shade watched as Drayfitt spoke briefly with two officers. Their words were of unimportant matters-the
