Storm Breaking

No one was mentioning the word 'King' yet, but Elspeth sensed that it was not far from anyone's thoughts. How could it be, when in the face of the worst times that Hardorn had ever experienced, this man was slowly imposing order and sanity on the face of the land? And it wasn't the arbitrary selfish order of a tyrant, either; they'd seen enough of that under Ancar to recognize it if they saw it. This was law and order that they could live with and be at peace with.

Elspeth couldn't help but contrast their lot with that of their fellow countrymen who did not have the advantage of living within three days of Shonar. Reluctantly she had to admit that if she were in their boots, she'd have felt the same way.

More than that, she found herself agreeing with most of what he'd done and ordered here. A few things represented laws or customs from the Empire that she wouldn't have imposed, but the rest—it was just the hand and the mind of someone who was concerned about the welfare of the people and knew how to derive the greatest good from a limited amount of resources.

The day before they were to meet with Duke Tremane himself, Elspeth and Darkwind were approached by a solemn group of Hardornens as they ate their evening meal. This time the innkeeper still tenanted his inn, but it had been a long time since he had actually served guests. He had offered a chance for Elspeth and Darkwind to have a quiet dinner together, without the company of their escort, and the prospect was too enticing to turn down.

He put them in a small, private dining room, with the troop seated in the larger room outside. Elspeth had not realized how much she had missed being able to talk to him without worrying about the ears of others. There were things she had wanted to discuss that needed to wait until they were alone in their room— if they were alone, since they often shared their sleeping quarters with the others.

They lingered over their last drink, making the most of this private time—and that was when the innkeeper interrupted them.

'Town Council would like to talk, sir, lady,' he said diffidently, poking his head into the room. 'Alone here, if you please?'

Elspeth sighed. She did not please, but there was no point in saying so. 'If they must,' she replied, allowing some, but not all, of her annoyance to show.

The innkeeper vanished, and the delegation must have been waiting right outside, for they trooped through the door immediately.

'We won't take up much of your time, Envoy,' said the best-dressed of the lot, a fellow who still boasted the velvets and furs of earlier prosperity. 'It's just something we'd like you to—to say for us, to Duke Tremane.'

'Not a complaint!' added a second, only slightly less elegant than his fellow. 'No, not a complaint! Something he might want to hear, maybe—'

'There's been talk,' the first interrupted, with a glare at the second. 'We've heard the talk. Oh, I was Guildmaster for the Wool and Weavers Guild for this whole region—'

Which explains the finery, Elspeth thought.

'—and Keplan here was Master for the Leather and Furrier's Guild. So, as I say, there's been talk, and people have come to us with it. Duke Tremane's proven good for us, and there are some that want to make him our leader.' The Guildmaster waved his hands expansively. 'Some who are even saying—King.'

The second interrupted his fellow Guildmaster. 'Now, we've sent out word, looking for some of the old royal blood of Hardorn. We've got ways of sending word out farther and faster than you'd believe. And there's no one, not one person of the old Royal Family left alive.'

'I can't say that amazes me,' Elspeth told them dryly. 'Ancar wasn't one to tolerate rivals. And he wouldn't let a little thing like the age or sex of a possible pretender stop him from removing someone he wanted out of the way.'

The Woolmaster coughed. 'Ah. Aye. And woe betide anyone that got in the way back then.' He looked up hopefully to see if Elspeth agreed with this attempt to exonerate himself for not attempting to interfere. By that, she inferred that at least one opportunity had occurred, and he hadn't even tried.

But who am I to judge? I wasn't there, I don't know what happened. If he took the coward's path, his own guilty conscience may be punishing him enough by now.

'You were saying that there isn't anyone of the old royal blood left,' she prompted. 'So?'

'So—well—there's some consensus that we might offer Duke Tremane the Crown. With conditions.' He held his breath and waited for her reaction.

'An interesting proposal,' Darkwind said quietly. 'I presume that the conditions would be unusual, since you mention them at all.'

The Woolmaster switched his attention from Elspeth to Darkwind. 'They could be,' he said. 'it's—well, it's