to be measured by what he can do, but they cling still to the trappings of blind tradition.'
Alodar opened his mouth to reply but Cedric cut him short. 'Too old,' he spat 'They said I was too old for command. Why even now, I am worth three of their young sons, wet-eared boys who have been no more than nicked by cold steel.' He crashed his fist into an open palm. 'It was not my age, but that I still refuse to play by their rules. What difference does it make if it is Feston or Basil that I would follow, so long as my sword swings swift and true? But since I would not declare, neither side will have me. And so one less arm is raised in Procolon's cause.'
'Lady Aeriel would know your worth,' Alodar said. 'I am sure she puts the true interests of the queen above the favor seeking.'
'I have not dealt with her directly,' Cedric replied. 'But if she is a member of the court, then she will be no different.'
'You speak with contempt of those who prejudge by pattern and rote,' Alodar said. 'I would not think you would so measure the lady. In any event, if the queen sails tomorrow, and Kelric with her, it is to Aeriel that I will appeal for a berth.'
Cedric did not reply but again looked up and down Alodar's shabby clothing.
Alodar followed his gaze and then nodded, 'I agree that I must know something of the ways of the court. It is why I am here. You taught me well at Dartilac's. With a little more instruction, I am sure I will pass through the palace hallways like the rest. And if you will not accept the ruby for payment, then all I can offer is the high opinion of the teacher which is generated by the deeds of the well-taught pupil.'
Cedric's eyes narrowed and he studied Alodar for a long time in silence. 'It is true that you do not seek the position of a commander,' he said at last. 'Perhaps this lady can get you placed in a lowly group such as Quantos' marines. Some position that is not significant enough to require commitment to either side.'
Cedric resumed his pacing, twisting his moustache into sharpness and looking over Alodar's head to the walls beyond. 'I had hoped to wait until you were fully trained,' he muttered after a moment, 'but the events force it to be now.' He shrugged, slapped his hip with decision, and then motioned to the bench nearby. 'Come, Alodar, there is a matter of much importance of which we must speak.'
They sat down facing one another and Cedric placed his hand on Alodar's shoulder. 'I admit to some truth in what they say. On cold mornings my knees are stiff and my eyes no longer follow the tip of the fastest blades. I am still very much the master, but I know that someday I must pass my heritage on to another.'
Cedric stopped and gently rocked Alodar back and forth. 'You will never become a great warrior,' he said. 'With more training you will grow into someone not to be dismissed lightly. But you are too small and slow to hack your way through a screaming hoard or stand toe to toe with a thick-muscled giant. No matter how hard you try, I do not see you someday beating your chest in triumph on the top of a pile of bloodied foes.'
Alodar's lips parted but Cedric raised his other hand for silence. 'But you have spirit. Despite the meager abilities at your command, you track your goals like a hero from the sagas. And it is that drive that attracted my attention to you; it is that dedication which commands my respect and motivates me to aid you as I can.' Cedric paused and looked deeply into Alodar's eyes. 'I see my own burning youth in your quest, Alodar. Even though my joints grow stiff, through your pursuit I live again.
'And so, if by the random factors I am to remain behind when the fair lady chances across the sea, then I choose to send my spirit with you rather than some other dewy-cheeked warrior, no matter how skillful.' Cedric unstrapped his sword and placed it across Alodar's knees. 'Take this,' he commanded, 'but remember when it is drawn, it must defend not one reputation but two.'
Alodar blinked at Cedric's words and tentatively reached out to touch the hilt in his lap. He looked back into the warmaster's eyes, saw the intensity of the feelings, and then tightened his grip. 'I will wear it in honor,' he said softly.
Cedric was silent for a moment longer, then slapped Alodar on the arm and sprang up from the bench. 'Enough of this chatter,' he rasped in his usual manner. 'There is little time and much to be done. I will tell you the etiquette of the court, and the ruby will provide what you must wear. Then, if your tongue is quick enough, you can try to convince this lady Aeriel to secure you an appointment with Quantos of the royal marines.'
Alodar wriggled his toes in the soft fur that lined his new calfskin boots. He glanced down at his silken tunic and smiled at the subtle pattern of silver thread which ran through the cloth. Around him mingled the nobles of the court, and nothing marked his raiment from theirs. The tailor had been right, he thought, the small ruby was twice again enough to purchase a wardrobe equal to any here.
Alodar looked around the large room and saw everyone crowded into the periphery. The center was clear, and the sheen on the parquet floor reflected brightly the light of the chandeliers overhead. Decorative columns with flowery capitals and fluted shafts were spaced with precision along all four walls; between them, frescos and tapestries blazed with heroic deeds from the sagas. On the far wall next to ceiling-high double doors, a small ensemble of musicians tuned their instruments, adding to the low drone of conversation. The mood was somber; the room resonated with the gentle hum of smoke-sedated bees, rather than the vigor of a swarming hive that one would expect at a royal ball.
Alodar scanned the assemblage for familiar faces from Iron Fist or Cedric's sparring yard and, here and there, he thought he recognized some lordling. The entire titled class within a day's ride of Ambrosia must be here, he thought. It was no wonder that the bribe to the footman to gain entrance had cost as much as the clothes on his back.
The buzzing around him rose slightly, and Alodar looked to the doors that connected the ballroom to the hallway beyond. Without fanfare, a tall, black-headed man entered the room with a military stride, and Alodar recognized him instantly.
'Look, it is lord Feston,' someone to Alodar's right stage-whispered to her companion. 'He can hardly control the agitation that disfigures his already uncomely face.'
'Well enough that he is so discomforted,' a second voice responded. 'Perhaps he will then acknowledge the existence of other ladies besides the queen.'
Alodar shut out the conversation and concentrated on Feston as the man moved about the room, acknowledging the greetings thrown his way. A year ago, Alodar would have been cowed. But today he noticed the way Feston moved his right hand to rest on the hilt of his sword, how he exposed his thigh when he gestured upward and away. His left foot was forward; he would swing from the side, rather than overhead. A contest between them tomorrow might have the same end but it certainly would not be decided by a single thrust.
Feston had not completed a half circuit of the room when a footman dressed as richly as anyone present skipped into the crowd, blowing a light tune on a flute. Behind him, with a dazzling beauty on each arm, came the massive bulk of Basil the apothecary. A gasp rose from the assemblage as he triumphantly advanced through the doorway, covered from head to toe in what appeared to be a robe of woven gold.
'My good company,' he boomed across the hall. 'What pleasure it gives me to see all of you so splendidly arrayed for the entertainment of our queen.' As he spoke, he idly flicked his fingers in a rhythmic pattern, causing a random clicking sound to emanate from his palm. A small stone dropped from his grip in a glittering flash, and the ladies scrambled to retrieve it. In an instant, one held it aloft.
'Keep it, my dear,' Basil said. 'It is but a small sapphire. Have it set in a ring.'
As he spoke, Alodar saw a flash of red hair as several more of the court crowded into the room.
'My lady Aeriel,' Basil said, whirling about. 'I see another fine setting for one of these stones.' With a sudden flick of the wrist, he tossed a second gem in Aeriel's direction and it fell in a smooth arc down the front of her dress. Her cheeks momentarily flushed and the crowd tittered at her discomfort.
Alodar looked at Aeriel and his pulse quickened. He could not help a small smile of pleasant anticipation as he thought how his quest gave him reason to seek her company again.
Heralds at the door blew two staccato blasts and Alodar jogged his attention back to the entrance. With unrushed dignity, Vendora entered the room in a gown of deepest red. He looked at her cold beauty and exhaled slowly. Vendora took two small steps into the corridor of people that opened for her and then stopped and looked back through the doorway. With a laugh, she motioned forward with her hand, and another figure entered the ballroom. The murmuring increased as Vendora spoke gaily to the assemblage, and Alodar's jaw dropped in disbelief.
'Lord Feston, apothecary Basil, and my distinguished company,' Vendora said lightly. 'As you well know, I have had much difficulty in choosing a consort between my two suitors. Can you imagine the difficulty in my decision,
