the chair and bowed toward the king.
He was nasty. Jarkadon had been a nasty child, and now he was a nastier adult. His father could still handle him, but he would be serious trouble for Vindax when he succeeded. Shadow trusted him even less than the king, if that were possible.
Queen Mayala, now, was a human being. Too nice a person for her position and hopelessly ground down by her husband, but basically decent. She never failed to give Shadow a smile when they met, and no one else did that. Yes, he could have liked Mayala were she not queen; her recent deterioration pained him.
Vindax was headstrong, too inclined to clash with his father in ferocious arguments that he must inevitably lose. He was smart, and charming when he chose to be. He was not truly trustworthy--none of them were--but certainly a better prospect for future king than Jarkadon would ever be.
Shadow made himself comfortable and prepared to enjoy a juicy royal outburst. The court was agog with a new scandal--and here was the prime suspect.
No! Jarkadon was going through a full ritual approach, with bowing and gestures, which was a mockery when father and son were alone, an impudence almost. But it was a petitioner's ritual, meaning that he had asked for this meeting. Curious! Aurolron took ceremony seriously and did not interrupt, although he frowned. Then the prince had reached the desk.
'What was all that for?' the king snapped, pointedly not inviting his son to sit.
'I come to crave a boon, sire,' Jarkadon said. 'Did I make any mistakes?'
'You have three minutes.'
The prince nodded inquiringly toward the back of Shadow's chair.
'He can't hear,' the king snapped. 'What do you want?'
'My birthright,' Jarkadon said.
Shadow wondered if he had heard correctly. Perhaps the king did also, for there was a long pause.
'Sit down.'
'Thank you, Father.' The little bastard was always cocky, but his impudent manner was even more marked than usual. He was being given the famous royal stare and not wilting at all.
'Talk,' the king said.
'Well,' Jarkadon said, leaning back. 'It began with Mother, of course, and her curious reluctance to let her favorite son visit Ninar Foan. She thought she was being subtle, but it was obvious. I even mentioned one day that you had changed your mind, and she dropped two kilodays in front of my eyes--and put on three when I confessed I was lying.'
'You little bastard,' the king said quietly, and the prince chuckled.
'Hardly me, Father! But it made me curious. When you sent a courier off with news of the impending visit, I decided to have a chat with him as soon as he got back. He seemed to take a long time returning, so I investigated the aerie and found a bird wearing Foan's anklet. Of course the courier would have exchanged mounts.'
'Of course,' the king said.
'But the rider was nowhere to be found. Sir Jion Paslo? If Vindax can associate with commoners, I assumed I could. But he had vanished. I was told he had gone to Hollinfar, a very dull place, from all accounts, given over to sheep raising and similar obscene practices.'
'You found him, though.'
'Yes,' the prince said. 'The fourth cell on the right as you pass the thumbscrews.'
Never, in five kilodays, had anyone spoken to the king like that, and his response was ominous. 'The jailors you bribed are now in the third and fifth cells, respectively.'
Jarkadon merely shrugged. 'An occupational hazard of the corrupt. Yes, I did talk with poor Jion--implying that I might secure his release, of course. I gather that the resemblance is incredible.'
The king's angry glare was perceptible even to Shadow at the far end of the room.
'If you studied bloodlines, in birds or in people, as I do,' Aurolron said, 'then you would know that such resemblances can turn up in quite distant relatives, and they are related, distantly.'
'Closely, I suspect.'
The royal fist thumped on the desk, and then both men turned to look at the back of Shadow's chair. The king half rose and then settled back uneasily. To order Shadow out of the room would be unprecedented, and therefore cause for speculation.
'You realize,' the king said, 'that any other man who said that would be guilty of high treason. However, I suppose that it does concern you, so I shall be lenient--just this once. We will discuss it, and then the subject will never be raised again! Is that clear?'
'Certainly,' Jarkadon said. 'If I may make a couple of comments afterward? Please explain, Father.'
Now the king's face was white with anger. Anyone else in the kingdom would be groveling at this point. Shadow was shaking and perspiring as though he had a fever.
'I also talked with the courier. Of course your mother knew, and that is why she is so upset. Obviously there is going to be gossip when it becomes known. I have never doubted your mother's honor--and I am appalled that you would. I have accepted Vindax as my son, and I shall continue to do so. Resemblance or not, I can assure you that it was physically impossible for the duke of Foan to have fathered him. Your mother is notoriously unpunctual but even she could not carry a child for five hectodays. She was a virgin when we married, anyway. Foan has never been to court. Yes, there will be gossip when Vindax and his party return. But not in my hearing.'
The king leaned back and glared.
'Why did you let him go?' Jarkadon asked, still unruffled.
'Because it must come out eventually. It is a miracle that it has not already done so.' The king paused and then spoke reluctantly. 'He was born blond; his hair grew in dark. The facial resemblance became obvious only when he reached adolescence, although the duchess came to court when he was a child, and she noticed even then, I think. She could not take her eyes off him. That was when I...when I suspected.'
Jarkadon nodded. 'You have met the duke, though?'
'Never,' the king said.
The prince chuckled. 'And you didn't warn Vindax, did you?'
'No.' Again the king paused. 'Perhaps it was unfair, but it is his problem, and I thought it would be a good test for him. He, I am sure, will not think evil of his mother. But then, he is a man of honor.'
Jarkadon's fair-skinned face reddened.
'I am the fount of justice,' the king said. 'I try many cases myself, and invariably I try cases dealing with inheritance among the nobility. The law is quite clear and quite universal: A child born in wedlock is legitimate unless the husband can prove beyond doubt that he could not have fathered it. In this case, I can prove beyond doubt--should anyone have the temerity to ask me--that Foan could not. There is nothing left to discuss.'
Shadow was paralyzed with terror and yet more fascinated than he had ever been.
'Oh, we are not talking certainty,' Jarkadon said. 'I do not claim so. But we are talking of a direct male line unbroken for forty generations--on so polished a scutcheon, even a fingermark will show up. Especially one made by the wrong finger.'
'Be careful!' his father warned between clenched teeth.
Yet Jarkadon seemed to relax even more, and clutched his knee with both hands. 'Around day 1108 of your reign would be the fateful moment, wouldn't it? 266 from 1374: I have been doing research, you see. Or later, possibly--he was a small baby.'
The king did not speak.
'Schagarn,' the prince said. 'And Kollinor?'
There was a long silence while the monarch stared at his son and Shadow wondered who or what or where Schagarn and Kollinor were. Obviously the king knew and they were words of power--the silence was very long, and when Aurolron broke it, his tone had changed.
'How did you find out about those?'
Jarkadon slipped a hand into his doublet and produced a piece of paper. 'All those interminable records you keep of your feathered pets, from egg to pillow. I never could see the point of them--until now. This is a copy, of course, but you can call for the original. It is an extract from the journey record on a bird called DeathBeak, one of your mounts in those days, apparently, I see that you rode it to Schagarn and then it went to Ninar Foan. It
