‘I have, Your Highness,’ I said.
‘And have you prayed to the gods that you will find favour in their eyes?’
‘I have.’
I was supposed to have stood a prayer vigil all the previous night, of course, but that was between me and Our Lady and I knew She wouldn’t take it ill that I hadn’t bothered. All the same, I tried to look weary and sleepless as I placed my right knee on the velvet top of the stool and my right hand on the rail, as I had been instructed to do.
‘You have been deemed fit for this high estate by your peers, and have indicated your willingness to accept this honour from the crown. Do you now swear by all that you hold sacred before the gods that you will honour and defend your queen and her regent, the Rose Throne and the realm?’
‘I do so swear,’ I said.
The Prince Regent stepped aside and a liveried aide came forwards carrying a long velvet pillow on which was balanced the thin-bladed ceremonial Knighting Sword.
‘I am but the regent of the Rose Throne,’ the prince said, as custom apparently dictated. ‘I call now upon my most royal daughter, Her Highness the Princess Crown Royal, to bestow the sacred and holy Order of the Knights of the Rose Throne upon this man who kneels before her.’
Nothing happened.
The prince cleared his throat.
My head was bowed how it was supposed to be, my left leg bent under me as I balanced on the strange stool, but I chanced a look up towards the thrones. The Princess Crown Royal appeared to be awake, but her eyes were glassy and she was staring a thousand yards into the distance in that way Jochan did when the battle shock was on him.
I was aware of Ailsa moving behind the regent’s throne. She bent and whispered to the young princess. Someone in the crowd coughed in obvious embarrassment.
A moment later the princess slipped off her throne and Ailsa caught her arm to steady her as she swayed on her feet. She was quite plainly drugged to the point of insensibility. She tottered forwards, Ailsa all but holding her up, and reached out a hand for the sword. Her small, pale fingers curled around the hilt and she lifted it and laid the flat of the blade against my right shoulder with almost exquisite care.
A hush descended over the throne room as the sword rose again, and then it fell against my left shoulder, and it was done. I heard more than one held breath being released and I thought one of them may have been Ailsa’s.
The princess replaced the sword on its velvet pillow and stood there staring blankly into the crowd of assembled courtiers. Ailsa took her arm once more and led her back to her throne, and I rose. The Prince Regent presented me with the medal of the Knights of the Rose Throne, and I don’t think I had ever felt more proud in my life at that time. If only my ma could have seen this.
I drew a shuddering breath and took the traditional three steps backwards before I stopped and bowed low to the dais. Suddenly the princess seemed to come to life. Her head jerked up and she pointed into the crowd with an unsteady hand.
Towards Billy.
‘That boy, he shines,’ she said.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Ailsa cleared her throat and whispered in the princess’ ear until she glazed over again and the awful moment passed. For then, anyway.
With that, it was over, and I turned and walked back to my place in the crowd.
Look at me, Ma, I thought. I’m a knight.
*
There was a reception afterwards.
Of course there fucking was.
At least Ailsa had joined us by then, in one of the minor ballrooms where the affair was to be held. Billy was clutching her hand and staring around him with wide eyes at the towering gilt mirrors and glittering chandeliers, while Ailsa and Anne did their level best to ignore each other. As was her way, Anne had flat refused to wear a dress for even this most formal of royal occasions, and although her coat and britches and doublet were every bit as fine as mine, I think Ailsa took exception to them.
That wasn’t my concern, though. Anne could wear what she liked, to my mind. I was more worried about the princess than Ailsa’s thoughts on suitable attire for ladies at court. I touched my wife on the arm.
‘Is she in any fit state for this?’ I whispered. ‘I thought at one point she was going to fall over and stab me with that fucking sword.’
‘She might well have done if I hadn’t been holding her up,’ Ailsa whispered back. ‘I’ve had her doctors administer a mild stimulant. I can but hope, Tomas.’
I narrowed my eyes at the obvious worry in Ailsa’s voice, but said no more on it. A moment later Ailsa squeezed my hand and nodded to the doors of the ballroom, and I turned to see Lord Vogel stride into the room. He hadn’t been at court for my investiture, so far as I knew, but I was sure he was a busy man. He joined us a moment later.
‘Ailsa, perhaps Billy and Anne would care to see the formal gardens from the far window,’ he said, pointedly dismissing the lot of them.
Ailsa took the hint and led Anne and Billy away across the rapidly filling ballroom. Vogel caught the eye of a footman and lifted two glasses of brandy from the man’s silver tray before scaring him off with a look. He passed me a glass and touched his lightly to it.
‘Congratulations, Sir Tomas,’ he said.
‘My thanks, Lord Chief Judiciar,’ I could only reply.
He leaned closer to me. ‘You did well with our learned friends,’ he murmured. ‘Archmagus Reiter assures me
