Eddings David - Tamuli - 01 - Domes of Fire Page 4

  and I don't even know the name of the current King of Render.' 'Ogyrin,'

  Kalten supplied, 'not that it really matters.' 'Anyway,' Sparhawk

  continued, sinking lower in his chair and rubbing the side of his face

  thoughtfully, 'during this same period of time, we've had a number of very

  able churchmen in the Hierocracy. The incapacity of Cluvonus sort of

  encouraged the patriarchs to strike out on their own. If you had a vacant

  throne someplace, you could do a lot worse than put Emban on it - or Ortzel

  - or Bergsten, and even Annias had a very high degree of political skill.

  When kings grow weak, the Church grows strong - too strong sometimes.'

  'Spit it out, Sparhawk,' Platime growled. 'Are you trying to say we should

  declare war on the Church?'

  'Not today, Platime. We might want to keep the idea

  in reserve, though. Right now I think it's time to start sending some

  signals to Chyrellos, and our queen may be just the one to send them.

  After the way she stampeded the Hierocracy during Dolmant's election, I

  think they'll listen very carefully to just about anything she says. I

  don't know that I'd soften her letter all that much, Lenda. Let's see if

  we can get their attention.' Lenda's eyes were very bright. 'This is the

  way the game's supposed to be played, my friends,.' he said

  enthusiastically. 'You do realise that it's altogether possible that

  Dolmant didn't realise that he was stepping over the line,' Kalten noted.

  'Maybe he sent Sparhawk to Lamorkand as the interim preceptor of the

  Pandion Order and completely overlooked the fact that he's also the prince

  consort. Sarathi's got a lot on his mind just now.'

  'if he's that absent-minded, he's got no business occupying the

  Archprelate's throne,'

  Ehlana asserted. Her eyes narrowed, always a dangerous sign. 'Let's make

  it very clear to him that he's hurt my feelings. He'll go out of his way

  to smooth things over, and maybe I can take advantage of that to retrieve

  that Duchy just north of Vardenaise. Lenda, is there any way we can keep

  people from bequeathing their estates to the Church?' "It's a

  long-standing custom, your Majesty.' "I know, but the land originally

  comes from the crown. Shouldn't we have some say in who inherits it? You'd

  think that if a nobleman dies without an heir, the estate Would revert

  back to me, but every time there's a childless noble in Elenia, the

  churchmen flock around him like vultures trying to talk him into giving

  them the land.' "jerk some titles,' Platime suggested. 'Make it a law

  that if a man doesn't have an heir, he doesn't keep his estate.'

  'The aristocracy would go up in flames,' Lenda gasped.

  'That's what the army's for,' Platime shrugged, 'to put out fires. I'll

  tell you what, Ehlana, you pass the law, and I'll arrange a few very public

  and very messy accidents for the ones who scream the loudest. Aristocrats

  aren't very bright, but they'll get the point - eventually.'

  'Do you think I could get away with

  that?' Ehlana asked the Earl of Lenda.

  'Surely your Majesty's not seriously considering it?'

  'I have to do something, Lenda. The Church is eating up my kingdom acre by

  acre, and once she takes possession of an estate, the land's removed from

  the tax rolls forever.' She paused. 'This could just be a way to do what

  Sparhawk suggested - get the Church's attention. Why don't we draw up a

  draft of some outrageously repressive law and just "accidentally" let a

  copy fall into the hands of some middle-level 'clergyman. It's probably

  safe to say that it'll be in Dolmant's hands before the ink's dry.'

  'That's really unscrupulous, my Queen,' Lenda told her.

  'i'm so glad you approve, my Lord.' She looked

  around. 'Have we got anything else this morning, gentlemen?'

  "You've got some unauthorised bandits operating in the mountains near

  Cardos, Ehlana,' Platime rumbled.

  The gross, black-bearded man sat with his Feet upon the

  table. There was a wine flagon and goblet at his elbow. His doublet was

  wrinkled and food-spotted, and his shaggy harr hung down over his

  forehead, almost covering his eyes. Platime was constitutionally incapable

  of using formal titles, but the queen chose to overlook that.

  'Unauthorised?' Kalten sounded amused.

  'You know what I mean,' Platime growled.

  'They don't have permission from the thieves' council to operate

  in that region, and they're breaking all the rules. I'm not positive, but

  I think they're some of the former henchmen of the Primate of Cimmura. You

  blundered there, Ehlana. You should have waited until you had them in

  custody before you declared them outlaws.'

  'Oh well,' she shrugged. 'Nobody's perfect.'

  Ehlana's relationship with 'Platime was peculiar. She

  realised that he was unable to mouth the polite formulas of the nobility,

  and so she accepted a bluntness from him that would have offended her had

  it come from anyone else. For all his faults, Platime was turning into a

  gifted, almost brilliant counsellor, and Ehlana valued his advice greatly.

  'i'm not surprised to find out that Annias' old cronies have turned to

  highway robbery in their hour of need. They were all bandits to begin with

  anyway. There have always been outlaws in those mountains, though, so I

  doubt that another band will make all that much difference.'

  'Ehlana,' he sighed, 'you're the same as my very own baby sister, but

  sometimes you're terribly ignorant. An authorised bandit knows the rules.

  He knows which travellers can be robbed or killed and which ones have to be

  left alone. Nobody gets too excited if some overstuffed merchant gets his

  throat cut and his purse lifted, but if a government official or a

  high-ranking nobleman turns up dead in those mountains, the authorities

  have to take steps to at least make it appear that they're doing their

  jobs. That sort of official attention is very bad for business. Perfectly

  innocent criminals get rounded up and hanged. Highway robbery's not an

  occupation for amateurs. And there's another problem as well. These bandits

  are telling all the local peasantry that they're not really robbers, but

  patriots rebelling against a cruel tyrant - that's you, little sister.

  There's always enough discontent among the peasants to make some of them

  sympathetic toward that sort of thing. You aristocrats haven't any business

  getting involved in crime. You always try to mix politics in with it.'

  'But my dear Platime,' she said winsomely, "I thought you knew.

  Politics is a crime.'

  The fat man roared with laughter. "I love this girl,' he told the others.

  'Don't worry too much about it, Ehlana. I'll try to get some men inside

  their band, and when Stragen gets back, we'll put our heads together and

  work out some way to put those people out of business.'

  "I knew I could count on you,' she said. She rose to her feet.

  'if that's all we have, gentlemen, I have an appointment with my

  dressmaker.' She looked around. 'Coming, Sparhawk?'

  'In a moment,' he replied. "I want to have a word with Platime.'

  She nodded and moved toward the door.

  'What's on your
mind, Sparhawk?' Platime asked.

  "I saw Naween last night when I rode into town. She's working the streets.' 'Naween?

  That's ridiculous! Half the time she even forgets to take the money.'

  'That's what I told her. She and Shanda had a falling out, and she was

  standing on a street corner near the east gate. I sent her to an inn to

  get her out of the weather. Can we make some kind of arrangement for her?'

  "I'll see what I can do,' Platime promised. Ehlana had not yet left the

  room, and Sparhawk sometimes forgot how sharp her ears were. 'Who's this

  Naween?' she asked from the doorway with a slight edge to her voice.

  'She's a whore,' Platime shrugged, 'a special friend of Sparhawk's. '

  'Platime." SParhawk gasPed. "

  'isn't she?'

  "Well, I suppose so, but when you say it that way -' Sparhawk groped for

  the right words.

  'Oh. I didn't mean it that way, Ehlana. So far as I know, your husband's

  completely faithful to you. Naween's a whore. That's her occupation, but it

  doesn't have anything to do with her friendship - not that she didn't make

  Sparhawk some offers '- but she makes those offers to everybody. She's a

  very generous girl.'

  'Please, Platime," Sparhawk groaned, 'don't be on my

  side any more.'

  'Naween's a good girl,' Platime continued to explain to

  Ehlana. 'She works hard, she takes good care of her customers and she pays

  her taxes.'

  'Taxes?' Ehlana exclaimed. 'Are you telling me that my

  government encourages that sort of thing? Legitimises it by taxing it?'

  'Have you been living on the moon, Ehlana? Of course she pays taxes. We

  all do. Lenda sees to that. Naween helped Sparhawk once while you were

  sick. He was looking for that Krager fellow, and she helped him. Like I

  said, she offered him other services as well, but he turned her down '

  politely. She's always been a bit disappointed in him about that.'

  'You and I are going to have a long talk about this, Sparhawk,' ehlana said

  ominously.

  'As your Majesty wishes,' he sighed as she swept coolly from

  the room.

  'She doesn't know very much about the real world, does she, Sparhawk?'

  "It's her sheltered upbringing.'

  "I thought you were the one who brought her up.

  'That's right.'

  'Then you've only got yourself to blame. I'll have Naween stop by and

  explain it all to her.'

  'Are you out of your mind?'

  Talen came in from Demos the next day, and he rode into the courtyard with

  Sir Berit. Sparhawk and Khalad met them at the stable door. The prince

  consort was making some effort to be inconspicuous until such time as the

  queen's curiosity about Naween diminished. Talen's nose was red, and his

  eyes looked puffy. "I thought you were going to stay at ,the farm until

  you got over that cold,' Sparhawk said to him.

  "I couldn't stand all that mothering,' Talen said, slipping down from his

  saddle. 'One mother is bad enough, but my brothers and I have two now. I

  don't think I'll ever be able to look another bowl of chicken soup in the

  face again. Hello, Khalad.'

  'Talen,' Sparhawk's burly young squire grunted. He looked

  critically at his half-brother. 'Your eyes look terrible.'

  'You ought to see them from in here.'

  Talen was about fifteen now, and he was going

  through one of those 'stages. Sparhawk was fairly certain that the young

  thief had grown three inches in the past month and a half. A goodly amount

  of forearm and wrist stuck out of the sleeves of his doublet. 'Do you

  think the cooks might have something to eat?' the boy asked. As a result

  of his rapid growth, Talen ate almost constantly now. 'i've got some

  papers for you to sign, Sparhawk,' Berit said. "It's nothing very urgent,

  but I thought I'd ride in with Talen.' Berit wore a mail shirt, and he had

  a broadsword belted at his waist. His weapon of choice, however, was still

  the heavy war-axe slung to his saddle. 'Are you going back to the

  chapterhouse?' Khalad asked him.

  'Unless Sparhawk has something he wants me

  for here.'

  'I'll ride along with you then. Sir Clart wants to give us more

  instruction with the lance this afternoon.'

  "Why don't you just unhorse him a few times?' Berit suggested. 'Then he'll

  leave you alone. 'You could do it, you know. You're already better than he

  is.'

  Khalad shrugged. 'it'd hurt his feelings.'

  'Not to mention his ribs, shoulders and back,' Berit laughed.

  "It's a bit ostentatious to outperform your instructors,' Khalad

  said. 'The other novices are already a little sulky about the way my

  brothers and I have outstripped them. We've tried to explain, but they're

  sensitive about the fact that we're peasants. You know how that goes.' He

  looked inquiringly at Sparhawk. 'Are you going to need e for anything this

  afternoon, my Lord?'

  'No. Go ahead on out and dent Sir clart's armour a

  bit. He's got an exaggerated notion of his own skill. Give him some

  instruction in the virtue of humility.'

  'i'm really hungry, Sparhawk,' Talen complained.

  'All right. Let's go to the kitchen.' Sparhawk looked

  critically at his young friend. 'Then I guess we'll have to send for the

  tailor again,' he added. 'You're growing like a weed.'

  "It's not my idea.'

  Khalad started to saddle his horse, and Sparhawk and Talen went into the

  palace in search of food. It was about an hour later when the two of them

  entered the royal apartment to find Ehlana, Mirtai and Danae sitting by

  the fire. Ehlana was leafing through some documents. Danae was playing

  with rollo, and Mirtai was sharpening one of her daggers. 'Well,' Ehlana

  said, looking up from the documents, "if it isn't my noble prince consort

  and my wandering page.'

  Talen bowed. Then he sniffed loudly. 'Use your

  handkerchief,' Mirtai told him.

  'Yes, ma'am.'

  > [fold] [

  'How are your mothers?' hlana asked the young man. Everyone, perhaps

  > [fold] ]

  unconsciously, used that phrasing when speaking to Talen and his

  half-brothers. In a very real sense, though, the usage reflected reality.

  Aslade and Elys mothered Kurik's five sons excessively and impartially.

  'Meddlesome, my Queen,' Talen replied. "It's not

  really a good idea to get sick in that house. In the last week I think

  I've been dosed with every cold remedy known to man.' A peculiar, squeaky

  noise came from somewhere in the general vicinity of the young man's

  midsection.

  'is that your stomach?' Mirtai asked him. 'Are you hungry again?'

  'No. I just ate. I probably won't get hungry again for ' at least

  fifteen minutes.' Talen put one hand to the front of his doublet. 'The

  little beast was being so quiet I almost forgot it was there.' He went

  over to Danae, who was tying the strings of a little bonnet under the chin

  of her stuffed toy. 'i've brought a present for you, Princess,' he said.

  Her eyes brightened. She' set Rollo aside and sat waiting expectantly.

  'But no kissing,' he added. 'Just a "thank you" will do..i've got a cold,

  and you don't want to ca
tch it.'

  'What did you bring me?' she asked eagerly.

  'Oh, just a little something I found under a bush out on the

  road. It's a little wet and muddy, but you can dry it out and brush it

  off, I suppose. It's not much, but I thought you might like it - ju'st a

  little.' Talen was underplaying it for all he was worth.

  'Could I see it, please?' she begged.

  'Oh, I suppose so.' He reached inside his doublet,

  took out a rather bedraggled grey kitten and sat it on the floor in front

  of her. The kitten had mackerel stripes, a spiky tail, large ears and an

  intently curious look in its blue eyes. It took a tentative step toward

  its new mistress. Danae squealed with delight, picked up the kitten and

  hugged it to her cheek. "I love it!!' she exclaimed.

  'There go the draperies,' Mirtai' said with resignation. 'Kittens always

  want to climb the drapes.'

  Talen skilfully fended off Sparhawk's exuberant little

  daughter. 'The cold, Danae,' the boy warned. 'i've got a cold, remember?'

  Sparhawk was certain that his daughter would grow more skilled with the

  passage of time and that it wouldn't be very long until Talen would no

  longer be able to evade her affection. The kitten had been no more than a

  gesture, Sparhawk was certain some spur-of-the-moment impulse to which

  Talen had given no thought whatsoever. It rather effectively sealed the

  young man's fate, however. A few days before, Sparhawk had idly wondered

  where he had made the mistake that had permanently attached his wife's

  affection to him. He realised that this scruffy-looking kitten was Talen's

  mistake - or at least one of them. Sparhawk mentally shrugged. Talen would

  make an adequate son-in-law - once Danae had trained him. 'is it all

  right, your Majesty?' Talen was asking the queen. 'For her to have the

  kitten, I mean?'

  'isn't it just a little late tO be asking that question, Talen?' Ehlana

  replied.

  'Oh, I don't know,' he said impudently. "I thought

  I'd timed it just about right.'

  Ehlana looked at her daughter, who was

  snuggling the kitten against her face. All cats are born opportunists. The

  kitten patted the little girl's cheek with one soft paw and then nuzzled.

  Kittens are expert nuzzlers. 'How can I say no after you've already given

  it to her, Talen?'

  "It would be a little difficult, wouldn't it, your Majesty?' The boy