open.
“The stones are gone-but now I think I know where they are,” she added, flashing a warning look to Jaymes. He nodded.
“The Compact of Freedom?” he asked.
The white wizard shook her head. “I heard the late, unlamented duke claim he burned it, and I’m sure he did-at the first opportunity. There is one thing. Something still left, from Lorimar’s legacy.”
She pulled out a white cloth. “For you, Jaymes,” she said, handing the silken bundle to Selinda. “I think the princess should bestow it on you.”
The Princess of Palanthas drew out the long pennant. It was a war banner, white, with several emblems in bright golden thread.
“Crown, Sword, and Rose, on one banner,” Selinda said in wonder. “As in the days of the old Empire.”
The princess bowed slightly and extended the banner to Jaymes, who took it with a grudging expression.
“Raise it over your head,” the princess said encouragingly. “Lead the Army of Three Signs into the field against the foe.”
Bakkard du Chagne’s mirror was dark. His four pawns, the lords he had raised to great heights, were dead. Lorimar had been slain at his command and the other three were destroyed by Lorimar’s avenger.
Du Chagne had seen all that had transpired in the duke’s game room, and he knew that his most closely held secret had been revealed to two important enemies: Jaymes and Coryn.
Action was required, but he was temporarily out of tricks. The mirror in Thelgaard was smashed, broken by the barbarian horde, and Caergoth’s, cracked and damaged, was in the hands of his enemies. As to the mirror in Solanthus, the lord regent had no contact there-the silly slut of a duchess used it mainly for primping.
He was not a man given to violent outbursts, but he suddenly, impulsively, smashed his fist into the glass, shattering it and bloodying his knuckles.
Coryn watched as the Army of Solamnia, under the Banner of Three Signs-Jaymes Markham’s banner, now- marched out of Caergoth. The troops, as she had predicted, had rallied enthusiastically to a new leader hailed by their veteran captains as the Lord of No Sign. Knights had rushed from barracks and rooming houses, survivors of earlier battles had their morale lifted, and recruits had come from all quarters of the city to swell the ranks again.
Now the vast columns of the new army were leaving the city and advancing eastward along the King’s Road. They were prepared to stand against the horde of Ankhar, encouraged by reports that the horde had not yet ventured south of the Garnet River. Cold winds blew from the south, and perhaps this stalemate would last through the winter, but none doubted the campaigning season would bring honor and victory to the knighthood.
The white wizard stood atop the city gatehouse tower, watching the marching soldiers accompanied by drummers, pipes, and the rousing cheers of the populace. Horses pranced, chariots rumbled, and newly built catapults rolled toward the battlefield. In the pageantry of the march, the legacy of recent defeats-and the ignominious deaths of the dukes-seemed to vanish in the wind.
Jaymes Markham cut a dashing figure at the head of the army. He wore a helm of gleaming silver, marked by a pair of curving bull’s horns. The people shouted as he rode past, and he needed an escort of knights on each side to prevent them from rushing forward just in the hope of touching his boot, his leg, his horse. Coryn smiled wryly, thinking what a contrast the sight was to Jaymes the Assassin-though she had always known his destiny.
She looked over to a section of wall where Lady Selinda was smilling and waving to the army commander as he rode past. The princess, with her royal bearing, her golden hair, her supreme beauty and confidence, had grown into a leader as much as Jaymes. When the people were not cheering Jaymes, they shouted their accolades toward her. Coryn felt that uncomfortable flash of jealousy, which momentarily brought tears to her eyes.
Lady Selinda was blissfully in the dark about her father. When she learned the truth, she might yet lose her smile.
Coryn turned away, but not before she spotted Jaymes waving back at the Princess of Palanthas. The crowd also saw the eyes of the princess and the Lord of No Sign meet, and their cheers increased, soaring up from the walled city, swelling into the sky, through the heavens. Indeed, it seemed, across all of Solamnia.
Unable to watch any longer, the white wizard disappeared.
