against an attack. Grigor’s death might not have been his fault, but it was something that he might have stopped, and he sorely regretted that he hadn’t. “I understand,” he finally admitted. “I can’t even say that I truly regret my choice, because the Black Moon Brotherhood is no more, and Mirya and her daughter are alive and safe. But I wish the cost of my choices wasn’t so dear.”
“As do we all from time to time, although it’s true that few people see consequences such as you’ve seen.” Serise sipped again at her warm cider, and set down the cup. “I feel somewhat recovered now, and I’d dearly love to see young Natali and Kirr. Children have a way of raising spirits, you know.”
“Is that a hint, Mother?”
“I wouldn’t dream of wondering aloud when my son of thirty-one years might finally find a wife and present me with grandchildren.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind these days!” he protested. But he smiled and offered his arm again, escorting her to the family’s living quarters.
They found Geran’s Aunt Terena in the family’s great room, assisting Erna as she tried to keep Natali and Kirr at the day’s lessons, a task that was soon abandoned. Geran’s mother hadn’t seen the young Hulmasters in several years, and they were eager to make the acquaintance of a relation they’d all but forgotten. Geran passed an hour keeping them company and listening to Serise and Terena recall old stories about a younger, haler Grigor and the misadventures of their own departed husbands-in Terena’s case, not Kamoth Kastelmar but instead her first husband, Kara’s father Arvhun-in years when Geran was not much older than Kirr. He would have thought that the stories of happier days would have been too sad to bear with Grigor’s funeral drawing near, but to his surprise he found himself laughing aloud more than once at stories he’d heard a dozen times as a young man.
After a midday meal of venison stew and fresh-baked bread, Geran excused himself with an idea of riding to Thentia to make some inquiries about the sellswords who’d been hired for the attack. But before he could don his riding furs against the weather, he was intercepted by Master Quillon-a halfling scribe who’d served as the harmach’s private secretary for the better part of two decades-and his cousin Kara. “A moment, Geran,” Kara called. “Master Quillon’s brought something to my attention.”
Geran paused and regarded the halfling. Quillon was a balding fellow with long sideburns and a thick pair of spectacles balanced on the end of his nose; he wore a tabard in the blue and white colors of the family Hulmaster with a matching cap. “Go on,” he said.
Quillon held up a sheaf of letters in one inkstained hand. “We’re beginning to receive correspondence addressed to the Harmach of Hulburg,” he said. “Mostly, they’re condolences, letters that simply express sympathy for our loss and outrage at Harmach Grigor’s murder. This sort of thing is commonplace after the passing of a head of state, even a small state such as Hulburg. They come from various nobles and realms around the Moonsea. We’ve only received a handful so far, but there will be more over the next few tendays.”
Geran glanced at Kara, and back to Quillon. “If it’s typical correspondence, I’m not sure I understand what the problem is. How would we normally answer them?”
“Oh, I can see to
“It’s not just the correspondence,” Kara added. “With the funeral tomorrow, there are questions of protocol too. We’ve avoided this discussion as long as we can.”
He stood in silence, looking at the letters in Quillon’s hand. Between the two of them, he and Kara had overseen the household for the last few days. But that was clearly a temporary arrangement. “Is there any decision to be made?” he finally asked. “I assume that Harmach Grigor left instructions for this. Or do the laws of succession simply dictate the answer?”
“I am afraid that Harmach Grigor named no one after Lord Isolmar died,” Quillon replied. “And the laws of succession are unclear. I believe that it is a matter for the family to decide, my lord.”
“I see.” Geran frowned. “Kara, what do you make of this?”
“I think the best thing to do is to bring everyone together and discuss it. The sooner, the better.”
He nodded. “Master Quillon, would you join us in the study at two bells? Your knowledge of the law may be helpful.”
“Of course, Lord Geran. I’ll fetch my pen and paper.” Quillon bowed, and hurried away.
The two Hulmasters watched him go, and Geran allowed himself a grimace of apprehension. He knew he didn’t want the throne-he wanted Grigor to be harmach, just as he’d been throughout the entirety of Geran’s life. But an assassin’s dagger had changed that, and Geran’s wishes had no power to put things back in order. No, the question was not whether he wanted to be harmach. The question was whether he was willing to be harmach if that was the best thing for his family.
Kara watched him as he wrestled with his thoughts. “I know it can’t be me, Geran,” she said in a low voice. “Whatever you decide, I’ll back you.”
He nodded gratefully, even though he had no idea what was the right course. “I suppose we’d better gather everyone.”
A little less than an hour later, the Hulmaster clan assembled in Lasparhall’s study. Natali and Kirr were excused, but Erna was present to speak for her children if need be. Terena and Serise sat near the fire, and Geran stood by the window, paying little attention to the chill radiating from the frost-covered panes. Master Quillon took an unobtrusive place in the room’s corner, his writing materials laid out before him.
Kara dismissed the servants from the room, closing the door behind them as she turned to face the Hulmasters. “I’m afraid there is a question that we must settle today,” she said. “Scores of nobles from Thentia and ambassadors from other cities will be here tomorrow to attend Harmach Grigor’s funeral rites. The question that will be on all their minds is simply this: who is to be the next harmach?”
“You and Geran have been looking after things since-well, over the last few days,” Terena said. “What do the laws of succession say?”
“Very little, I’m afraid,” Kara answered. She looked over to Master Quillon. “Have you found anything more?”
The halfling shook his head. “Regretfully, no. The difficulty is that Hulburg’s laws provide little guidance. By tradition the harmach names his heir. Until four years ago, that was clearly Lord Isolmar, but Harmach Grigor never named a new heir after Isolmar’s death. As far as I can determine, it’s been more than a hundred and fifty years since a harmach died without a son who was ready and willing to take the title, so there is no obvious precedent to follow.”
“Why didn’t he simply choose someone?” Erna said sadly. “Then we would know better what to do now.”
“He was worried that he would endanger whoever he named,” Terena said. The others in the room looked at her in surprise; she shrugged. “We spoke of it once or twice. After all, Isolmar-his own son-had just been murdered, in all likelihood because he was close to the throne. I suspect that Sergen may have influenced his decision as well, either by advising him not to name anyone else, or perhaps by indicating that he wished to be considered as a potential heir. With Geran away on his travels, Isolmar’s children hardly more than babes, and Kara’s condition, there was no one else.”
Geran glanced at Kara, who grimaced quickly but said nothing. The eerie azure of her spellscarred eyes and the blue serpentlike mark on her left hand shimmered in the room’s dim light. She was undoubtedly the most qualified candidate, since she’d sat on the Harmach’s Council and served as Grigor’s right hand for years, but no one would suffer a harmach whose children might turn out to be monsters.
“I doubt that we can divine Grigor’s intent,” said Geran’s mother. “Let us look at this another way. Neither Erna nor I are Hulmasters by blood. That simply leaves Terena, Geran, Natali, and Kirr. Terena is, of course, the eldest Hulmaster remaining, and the daughter of a harmach herself. Geran is the eldest male Hulmaster. If we believe the succession should pass to the oldest child of Grigor’s oldest child, that would be Natali of course, but she’s only a child. She’d need a regent to rule for her.”
“Excuse me. The law is unclear about whether the eldest Hulmaster or the eldest
