The Coral Kingdom

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PART I: SYNNORIA 1

A Royal Funeral

Robyn Kendrick, High Queen of the Ffolk, stood at the highest window of her castle, watching the sun- speckled waters of Whitefish Bay, the bustling commerce of Callidyrr, and the thriving fields and pastures that spilled across the moors to the highlands beyond. She looked upon this scene of prosperity and beauty, and she felt as though she would perish from the force of her own despair.

'He lives!' she whispered softly. 'He is not dead!'

Too often in the past days she had spoken the words aloud, and this had caused the eyes of her daughters or her servants to look at her pityingly. They thought she was losing her mind, she knew, and the queen sensed that now, of all times, she could not let her subjects begin to wonder about her fitness to rule.

'It's true!' she told herself, yet even Robyn had begun to wonder how she could continue to cling to such a hollow hope.

True, there had been no body-but when was there ever a body when a ship went down at sea with the loss of all hands? The High King's vessel had sailed on the return leg to the Moonshaes, following an important trading mission to the Sword Coast kingdoms of Callidyrr and Amn. Somewhere in the vast reaches of the Trackless Sea, south of the Moonshae Islands, the ship had encountered a surging tempest of storms typical of the gales that swept across that wide stretch of ocean. The ship had entered the maelstrom and it had failed to emerge.

The news had come to Callidyrr, the great city where the High King had made his capital and his home, more than three weeks before, and in all that time, there had been no information to indicate any chance of his survival. Even the stubborn Ffolk, grief-stricken and frightened as they were, had begun to accept the reality of the loss of their king.

Robyn's own daughters had faced the grim truth, though each in her own unique way. The elder, High Princess Alicia, had embarked on a vigorous regimen of weapons training, as if her skill with sword and bow might help to avert a future tragedy. In this, Alicia was aided by good friends-most notably Brandon Olafsson, Crown Prince of Gnarhelm and a proud northman sailor. Brandon professed his love for the princess in every expression of his face, every jealous glower in his blue eyes as he looked at the two other men who also stood high in the princess's friendship and affection.

One of these was Hanrald Blackstone, newly appointed as Earl of Fairheight following the death of his father. Hanrald had been trained as a knight, and the honor and chivalry of that calling marked him as clearly as did his plate mail breastplate or his proud, crested helm. Yet that stiffness displayed itself in a reserve that held Hanrald aloof while his more hot-blooded rival pressed his suit vigorously.

The third man, Robyn realized, might not be recognized as a rival by Brandon or Hanrald. Indeed, a cold part of the queen's mind told her that he made a less desirable match for her daughter politically than did either the earl or the prince. Keane of Callidyrr had been Alicia's tutor for more than ten years and still treated the princess with protectiveness as much as affection. Yet of the three, the magic-using teacher came closest to understanding Alicia Kendrick.

Now, however, Robyn knew that the choice of a husband was not Alicia's concern. Instead, she needed the comfort of her friends as she struggled to grasp the reality of her father's loss. Currently, as Robyn looked upon her realm, Brandon captained a longship that carried the princess and her companions to Corwell, where the queen would join them shortly. Because of these friends, thought the queen, the High Princess had adapted better than either her mother or her sister in accepting the loss of the High King.

For a moment, Robyn's thoughts turned to her younger daughter, Deirdre. As always, her mind raised far more questions than it answered.

Dark-haired Deirdre had a personality that matched the color of her long hair. Distant and cool toward her family-toward everyone-the younger princess had fostered a life in studies, scrolls, and books. She was a young woman of great intelligence and barely concealed ambition. Often, during their childhood, Robyn had worried about the younger girl's jealousy of her older sibling, wondering whether that emotion would grow into the kind of hatred that could rend asunder a kingdom and a people.

Then, during the girls' adolescence, the queen's worries had lessened. Deirdre ceased to display the overt hostility that had characterized her childhood. Though she had never become close to her sister, she had tended to treat her with indifference rather than rage. Alicia, on the other hand, had never lacked for trusted friends, so her sister's coldness hadn't seemed to create a void in her life.

But now, in a matter of months, Robyn's concerns had flared into full-blown fear. Something had happened to Deirdre, something mysterious and darkly menacing. Through her studies, the young woman had touched powers that were not meant for the casual scholar, powers that required from their wielder a price as great as they granted.

True, Deirdre's visible use of that power had been fortuitous. She had employed it to aid Alicia in breaking a thrall of storms and natural violence that had wracked the Moonshaes for several years. Yet in that accomplishment her daughter's arrogance and envy had reasserted itself, so that the queen once more feared that the spite felt by a sister could fan itself into a blaze that might drive a nation to destruction.

Robyn knew that the Moonshae Islands stood at a critical time in their long history. Only once before, under the reign of the hero Cymrych Hugh, had the four kingdoms of the Ffolk stood united under a single throne. Yet Cymrych Hugh had died with no clear heir to the throne, and within a generation, the isles had again broken into political fragments, easy prey for the northmen invaders who had gradually claimed much of the land.

Now Tristan Kendrick, the second High King to unite the Ffolk, had perished. He left a queen-a strong queen, Robyn reminded herself-and two daughters. Though the Ffolk, unlike the northmen, had never disparaged the rulership of a queen simply on the basis of her sex, Robyn knew that she would have to prove her fitness to continue the Kendrick line, and in that process, she must ensure that Alicia would inherit the kingdom upon her own death.

Her goal seemed clear, but there were so many obstacles, and as she thought of those obstacles, she came back to the plans that had caused her to pause, musing, at the window in the first place.

A harsh knock at the door, though not unexpected, broke Robyn's reverie. 'Come in,' she said.

The door opened to reveal Deirdre Kendrick. The princess's black hair floated behind her, unbound and silky long, as she moved softly into her mother's chamber. The two women looked remarkably similar, though the maturity and sorrow of age had unmistakably marked the mother with lines around her mouth and eyes and a fringe of gray that had begun to lighten her long black hair. 'You wished to see me?' Deirdre said.

Robyn knew what she needed to say to her daughter, and she knew that Deirdre wouldn't like it. She found it difficult to begin.

'Yes, my daughter. Please come here. I was enjoying the view.'

Silently the princess joined her mother.

'Summer,' observed the queen. 'Such a vital, vibrant season. Doesn't it make you feel alive?'

Deirdre smiled, but her eyes remained hooded. 'Books make me feel alive, Mother-and they do so even in the dark of winter.'

Robyn suppressed a sigh, turning to face her daughter squarely. 'I wish to speak with you about those books, about the forces you read about and touch. You bring a shadow around yourself. There is a darkness that surrounds you-a darkness you wear about your shoulders like a cloak. It disturbs me. You've opened the doors to places that can't help but change you. The powers you touch are very dangerous things!'

'Of course they're dangerous! But I know how to use them, and every day I learn more!' Deirdre's reaction was anger, and her green eyes flashed with the heat of her emotion. 'I follow a pathway to power without limit, without restriction-a road I've chosen for myself!'

'Without the limits, for example, imposed by a god-or goddess?' Robyn asked pointedly.