Too Many Princes (11 page)

“
And so, I began to beget. Despite what you may think, Brastigan, fatherhood has never been a game. Habrok taught me that. As you noted, he and Haraldine had already been born at the time of my marriage. Meranca arrived soon after.
”

“
But that prophecy...
”
Therula breathed.

“
For a long time, I thought our family was safe. Now I fear his prediction is proving true,
”
the king said grimly.
“
When Rickard and Aric died, it seemed mere chance. Such things happen.
”
Despite his effort to sound calm, there was a tremor in Unferth's voice.
“
Now that Luvan is gone, I know Ymell's words were correct. With Eben's assistance, I have begun making other arrangements to protect my remaining family. We are too vulnerable, living so close together in Harburg. I plan to settle as many as I can elsewhere.
”

This wasn't welcome news, though Brastigan had to admit it was in line with his own suspicions. If some unknown enemy had a grudge against the royal family, they were all in danger.

“
Did you know someone tried to kill Brastigan today?
”
Lottres asked, tautly.

Unferth and Therula stared at Brastigan in shock. He shrugged uncomfortably.
“
I ducked.
”

“
No,
”
Unferth breathed, suddenly shaken. He seemed to gather himself.
“
This tells me my instincts were correct. I will miss the others, but you, my clever boy,
”
he smiled wanly at Lottres,
“
and you, you rascal,
”
he looked to Brastigan,
“
you two, I want safe.

“
So, Brastigan, you are quite correct in thinking I arranged for your departure. Eben was very helpful in passing a message to his good friend, Mistress Yriatt. Coincidentally, she requires the assistance of the crown in a matter of legitimate concern to Crutham. Nevertheless, I am sending you to her in hopes you will be safe. I would appreciate it if you'd waste a bit of time there, until Eben can figure out who's behind these murders.
”

It seemed too good to be true. Brastigan regarded his father warily.

“
Do you think we'll be safe out in the wilderness?
”
he sneered.
“
Oh, good idea.
”

“
The Lady of Hawkwing House is puissant and wise,
”
was the king's patient reply.

“
You mean she's a witch.
”

“
Brastigan,
”
Therula warned. He made a face at her.

“
That is such a coarse and vulgar term,
”
the king smiled. It took Brastigan a moment to realize he was mimicking Alustra.

Lottres said,
“
Do you trust her, father?
”

Unferth nodded.
“
I do. It isn't widely spoken of, but Mistress Yriatt and her household play an integral part in Crutham's defense, as do Eben and Master Ymell. That could not be so if I didn't trust in their loyalty and judgment.
”

The room was silent for a time, save for the crackle of the fire. The flames had begun to sink low. For lack of anything better to do, Brastigan stabbed at the fire with the poker.

“
I guess we'll have to watch each other, then,
”
Lottres said.
“
We'll do our duty by the noble lady. Have no fear of that, Father.
”

He sounded very certain. Oddly, Brastigan felt just the opposite. The sound of steel biting into a wooden wall sounded loud in his memory.

“
I know you will.
”
At the tenderness and pride of Unferth's tone, Brastigan's vision suddenly blurred. He blinked fiercely, hating himself for his wayward emotions.
“
I have faith in both of you, but I do hope you'll be careful and avoid any unnecessary risks.
”

He looked straight at Brastigan, who retorted,
“
How much fun would that be?
”

“
You,
”
the king growled.
“
I mean it. Be careful.
”

“
I'll tell you what I told Clio,
”
Brastigan snapped, annoyed by the fussing.
“
I'm the greatest swordsman in Crutham, and nothing is going to happen to me.
”

“
Braggart.
”
Therula smiled fondly.

“
It's true,
”
he smirked. The familiar banter was far preferable to dwelling on his unaccustomed emotions.

“
So I hear,
”
Unferth chuckled,
“
and that's another reason to get you out of here. Not everyone enjoys how you hone your skills.
”

“
Ha!
”
Brastigan gave a bark of laughter.
“
So Tarther's been whining, has he?
”

“
Actually, yes, and I have to agree with him. How can his men respect him when they see him get thrashed?
”
the king asked reasonably.
“
It would be one thing if you were interested in leading the guard yourself. We all know that isn't the place for you.
”

“
What do you mean?
”
Brastigan demanded.
“
I have the skill
—.
”

Then he closed his mouth. An endless round of patrols, watch posts, honorary guards, always ready for action but never seeing any? The old man was right. He would hate it.

“
What do you mean? You'd die of boredom,
”
Therula laughed mockingly.

“
And you'd have to work with Captain Tarther,
”
Lottres added slyly.

“
Take orders from that dull blade?
”
Brastigan gagged dramatically, and set them all laughing, but he didn't smile for long.

“
Really,
”
he said to no one in particular,
“
these quests are all well and good, but I'm still twelfth or thirteenth in line for the throne, and Lottres is behind me. Oskar's got the position secured anyway. What are we supposed to do with the rest of our lives?
”
It wasn't a question that had occurred to him before, and it sat on his stomach like a stone.

“
Maybe,
”
Lottres suggested quietly,
“
we'll find something else to do on this trip.
”

“
Perhaps,
”
Unferth agreed. He gazed at Lottres fondly.

Therula glanced sharply between them, and Brastigan was left wondering what he had missed. Then the king leaned to one side, drawing something from his belt. He extended it toward Brastigan.
“
Here.
”

“
What is it?
”
Brastigan asked suspiciously.

“
I'm not sure,
”
the old man confessed.
“
It belonged to Leithan. I want you to have it before you go.
”

This was low. First Unferth got all fatherly, then he brought up Brastigan's mother. Still, how could he refuse? Brastigan took the small, dangling object and turned it over in his palm.

It was a flat disc of dark stone, perhaps black, perhaps blue, with a dull sheen on its surface. It was about half the length of his thumb and fastened to a leather thong with a simple knot. Roughness caught at his fingertips, and he angled it against the light. On one side a dogwood flower was carved, and on the other side, a snowflake.

Slowly, drawing on memories from twenty years ago or more, Brastigan recognized it. Leithan had worn this token about her neck. She was never without it. It seemed distinctly strange to see it, now, without her. Joal had worn one, too, but his had been a rusty color, perhaps red jasper. Brastigan couldn't remember exactly, but he was sure the carving had been different. A pine cone, maybe.

Unferth spoke with old sadness.
“
I always wondered who she really was. She said she wasn't wellborn, that they had no such rank as king among their folk. And yet, as long as she was here, the Urulai stayed. There were quite a lot of them, you know, down in the town. They kept to themselves, kept together.
”

“
I remember them,
”
Therula put in thoughtfully.
“
And their horses.
”

Brastigan remembered, too. The lanky steeds, always gray or white, with a shy dignity and lively spirit. Their milky manes were braided and beaded like those of their riders. He remembered looking up at the proud strangers, so dark and tall among the heavier, blond Cruthans. All of them had worn these necklaces. What could they mean?

“
Once Leithan died, they all just left,
”
Unferth was saying,
“
We thought nothing of it then, though I recall Eben made mention of it. It's been fifteen years. I don't know where they would be. But as to your question, son, I believe the answer must lie with the Urulai. You should find them if you can.
”

Brastigan stared at the incised flower in his hand and said nothing. He couldn't remember much of his mother. She had had fair skin and dark eyes, with fine black hair trimmed to shoulder length. Each morning, Joal had bound it for her in a brief stub of white cloth. No other Urulai he had ever seen wore her hair that way. Leithan had been tender with him, but she seldom smiled. In a soft voice, she sang words he didn't understand. Urulai, it must be. He regretted, now, that he didn't know their tongue. Joal had never offered to teach him.

Who was she? A leader of some sort, it seemed, among the ragtag exiles. What must she have thought of the tame farmland, the thick city walls? She had not been old when she died. How did she feel about exchanging her body for the safety of her landless people?

“
Didn't Joal know who she was?
”
Lottres asked.

“
Of course. I asked him once, but he didn't answer.
”
Unferth shrugged.
“
I think he felt that it wasn't my business.
”

“
You are the king,
”
Therula objected, frowning.

“
Not their king,
”
Unferth answered.

“
I doesn't matter,
”
Brastigan said. He tied on the necklace and stood, feeling stiff all over.
“
Thank you, Father.
”

It felt strange to say those words. He was so accustomed to bitterness instead of gratitude, and he had never called the man father before. Yet it had to be said. Too much was going on, and he didn't know when they would speak again.

“
Of course, son.
”

Brastigan merely nodded. There was so much more to say, and yet, suddenly, he couldn't bear any more talking. More than anything, he wanted to get out of Therula's chambers. There was too much new insight, too many unfamiliar words. He had to get away, to walk and walk and walk and think.

“
Pup, we'd best get going. We ride out early.
”
Brastigan kissed Therula again, quickly, and strode from the room without waiting for an answer.

Truly, he should try to get some rest. The road before them was long, his destination uncertain, but somehow he didn't think he would sleep much that night.