his claim is weaker than several others. Speaking of which, would you see to Stephane? Unless I’m tragically mistaken, she means to have young Hal as husband, and if no one has watched closely, she most likely has him between the sheets already; her best ploy may be to announce to her father she is with child and the young Duke of Crydee is the father.’
‘She’s not that devious,’ said Franciezka with a half-smile.
‘She’s a woman, isn’t she?’
‘I’ll forgive you for that remark if you tell me where you are going after Krondor.’
‘To Rillanon, and to see the temper of the Congress of Lords. We have claimants to the throne, including the Princess’s object of affection, but no clear favourite. Thrones will be bartered and promises made and broken. Alliance and betrayal are the order of the day, and if someone is foolish enough, we may see civil war.’
‘Might it come to that, with Kesh on your borders?’
Jim laughed. ‘As my ancestor, the first Lord James is reputed to have said, “Never underestimate the potential for human stupidity when wealth and power are at stake.”’
She sighed. ‘I fear you’re right. Now, go, and mourn your king, and see to the business of your nation, but know that I will wait to see you again in happier circumstances.’
‘Lady, you have no idea how much it pleases me to hear you say thus. If there is one thing in this bitter experience I would not trade for the Keshian treasury, it is hearing you say that.’
She looked at him for a long moment. ‘I do love you, you fool.’
‘And I love you more than the breath in my lungs.’ He kissed her and held her close, then took out the travel orb and flipped the switch and was gone.
Lady Franciezka Sorboz stood motionless for a moment, having never felt so alone in her life.
Magnus stood alone on the cold beach, ignoring the bitter winter wind from the south. He struggled with dark anger unlike any he had known since boyhood.
Magnus reflected as he stared out at the lapping waves. Fatigue had forced him to take time away from studying the matrix and in his heart he knew part of what was causing it was the conflict he felt at seeing his mother’s face every time he pulled away from his study.
Magnus sighed. Staring out at the sea had always been his way to grapple with his internal conflicts. He had been a quiet boy, slow to anger, thoughtful and studious. When his little brother had been born he had been like most other children, torn between loving a companion and resenting an intruder. Caleb had been outgoing and playful, until it became clear he had no magical skills nor would he learn any.
For most children that would have been of no importance, but for Caleb it had been a burden, for he grew up on Sorcerer’s Isle, the son of Pug and Miranda, the younger brother of Magnus, and the only child not a servant who was devoid of magical ability.
Magnus had become his protector, his big brother protecting him as much as possible from the cruelties of the other boys and girls, but even then, Magnus couldn’t watch over him continuously, and as a result Caleb had still been dealt with harshly,
Pug found his son standing alone and said, ‘Are you all right?’
‘No,’ said Magnus. ‘Frankly, I am anything but all right.’
Pug sighed. ‘This encounter with those … beings … I know it’s unsettling.’
‘Unsettling?’ said Magnus, his voice rising. ‘I’ve seen how you look at her. I understand, Father. I have had moments, brief ones, where I forget, and then I remind myself, she is not Mother. She is not your wife!’
Pug saw anger in his son unlike anything he had witnessed before. ‘What is it, really?’
Magnus considered his words before speaking, then said at last, ‘What is the limit of the price you’re willing to pay?’
Pug was unprepared for his son’s question. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’
Magnus had always been a self-aware, self-controlled child and adult, but for the first time since his birth, he looked to his father as if it was taking all his self-control to keep from erupting in rage. ‘People have died, Father. Not dozens, or hundreds, or thousands, but millions. They have died because of decisions we’ve made, you and I. When does the price become too high?’
Pug was speechless.
Magnus said, ‘I guess it doesn’t really matter if you don’t know who those people are, or at least if they are not close to you.’ Magnus’s eyes were wet with barely-contained tears of frustration and anger. ‘The stories you told Caleb and me when we were boys. The hundreds that died in the arena on Kelewan? You made your point. The games were evil. And eventually you closed the rift that drew the Dragon Lords, or what was left of them, to Midkemia.’
Pug’s stunned shock began to slowly turn to anger of his own. ‘Are you suggesting somehow I’m to blame for the Valheru starting the Chaos Wars ages before man came to Midkemia?’
‘Of course not!’ shouted Magnus. ‘Don’t insult my intelligence. But have you ever considered that pulling down the arena around the ears of Tsurani citizens whose only crime was to attend a public festival might have been the first time in your life you looked at human life as yours to spend? At whim?’
Pug grabbed Magnus by the front of his robe and cried, ‘What is this about, Magnus?’
Pushing his father’s hands away, Magnus said, ‘You destroyed a world, Father. You did your best to get people free of it, but in the end … I don’t know how many died because of what you did.’
‘I had no choice!’ shouted Pug.
‘There is always a choice,’ said Magnus. ‘From the choice to do nothing and let events take their course, to constantly meddling and wreaking havoc on other people’s lives. It just seems that your choices bring about the most destruction.’ He looked at his father as if seeing him for the first time. ‘I don’t know you.’
‘You know what’s at stake.’
‘Do I?’ said Magnus. ‘I know who we face. I will not argue that we have been opposed by forces evil beyond understanding. Madness is their hallmark, and chaos is their chosen mode, but in the end I must ask, have we done our best in opposing them, or do we flail about, breaking whatever gets in our way, because we never ask the question: at what price?’
‘We pay whatever price is asked,’ Pug answered. ‘Otherwise all we know, and more, worlds beyond counting, are lost.’
Magnus turned and looked out over the ocean. ‘I stand here and look out and see miles of rolling waves. Under the water life is teeming, oblivious to what we undertake in our struggles. In the sky birds soar, our conflicts meaning nothing to them. And this is but one world. I’ve seen the stars in the heavens and know the engine of creation is vast beyond my ability to comprehend it, yet in the end I feel as I have said, that there is a limit!’ His voice rose and he pointed back towards the Pantathian city. ‘In there is an abomination. Two people I loved more than I loved any other, my mother and Nakor, are captured in some evil design and returned to us, and for what reason? Even they confess to not knowing why. But I think it’s simply another jest by the gods to convince us that there is no limit to the price. And I want no more of it.’
And with that, Magnus vanished.
Pug stood alone on the cliffs looking at a cold, choppy sea, a chilly early morning wind cutting into him, and never in his life had he felt more alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Soldiers marched.
The procession that would carry King Gregory back to Rillanon to be interned in the Vault of Kings moved down the long winding street from palace to dockside. Hal watched from a window in the palace, a window in the room belonging to Duke James of Rillanon.
The old duke, his grandson Jim, and the magician Ruffio stood nearby watching the passing funeral parade. Turning away from the window, Hal looked at Lord James who said, ‘We don’t have much time, my lord.’
Hal was still struggling to accept his rank as being equal to the man who addressed him. Lord James was
