King's Dragon (Crown of Stars 1)
“You want me to say I do not want the throne.”
o;The movement of the wandering stars in the heavens is one of the markers by which the magi and mathematici know the lines through which they can draw down power from the heavens to wield on the earth. By this means they may also distinguish those of the daimones of the upper air who, with their greater knowledge of the universe, are most susceptible at any given alignment of the heavens to coercion or persuasion.”
From below she heard low voices, startling her out of her reverie. Footsteps sounded, moving softly up the ladder to the parapet walk. She retreated into shadows, drew her cloak more tightly around her as if it were also a shadow, transforming her into just one more element of night and stillness and darkness.
“It was not a debate of my choosing,” said the first as he came up onto the parapet walk and leaned out to look east. It was the prince. She recognized both his voice, which had that odd scrape in it, and his bearing. He was quite tall and had the strong shoulders and confident posture of a man who has trained long and well with weapons.
With him, to her surprise, was Wolfhere. They spoke with apparent cordiality despite their argument in the barracks earlier. “But it affects you nevertheless. I have heard it said more than once that King Henry refuses to let Sapientia leave on her progress, as is her right should he choose her over Theophanu. She is almost twenty years old.”
“By which age King Henry had already been named as heir by right of fertility, of which I am the result.” Sanglant’s tone was flat, almost mocking.
“Then you must speak.”
“It is not my place to speak. King Henry has counselors. He has companions, men and women of his own age who have their own birthright, their lands and estates.”
“Surely these great magnates cannot counsel the king without some prejudice toward their own advancement.”
“Do we not all counsel in such fashion, Lord Wolfhere, not unaware of what would best benefit ourselves? Save for the rare few, who are wise without any selfish intent.”
“And who are those, in your opinion, Prince Sanglant?”
“Of them all, I would only trust the cleric, Rosvita of Korvei. She has an elegant bearing that sits well with her affability and benevolence. She is both humble and patient, and she is very learned. All this makes her a wise counselor.”
He shifted, turning slightly. Liath pressed back farther into the shadows, round wood posts hard against her back. But there was not enough light from moon and stars for them to see her.
Finally, the prince sighed. “What do you want of me, Wolfhere? Some seek my favor. Others speak ill of me in the hope of turning my father against me. You hint of terrible plots devised by my mother’s people and suggest that I conceal from my father and the rest of you my part in those plots. But I am not book-educated like you are. I cannot puzzle such things out from hints and fragments of words and phrases in languages I cannot read. It is said you were invested as an Eagle the year the elder Arnulf died and left Wendar and Varre to the younger Arnulf and Queen Berengaria. But it is also said of you, my friend, that the year Queen Berengaria died in childbed you were taken into the confidence of those who secretly learn the ways of the magi, the forbidden arts. And that it is for this reason, despite your wisdom and experience, that you do not walk among those who name themselves counselors to King Henry.”
“An Eagle serves the sovereign by carrying messages and decrees and by observing and reporting back what was seen. Not by giving counsel. We are eyes and ears, Prince Sanglant, nothing more.”
“And yet you chance to bring the most beautiful young Eagles into your nest, or so I observe.” He sounded as if he meant to provoke the older man.
Wolfhere did not reply at once. The drums that beat incessantly in the Eika camp changed rhythm, adding a hiccuping beat in the middle of what had been a straight pattern of four.
Wolfhere spoke so lightly the words resonated like a hammer blow. “Stay away from her, Sanglant. She is not meant for you. Nor are you meant for your father’s throne.”
Sanglant laughed. “Does anyone expect me to live that long? I am captain of the Dragons, after all. Of all the captains, only Conrad the Dragon served his king for more years than I have so far served mine.”
“You can influence King Henry’s decision.”
“Can I?”
Wolfhere appeared incapable of losing his temper, no matter how annoying Sanglant meant to be. “There is not one soul who moves in the orbit of the king’s progress who cannot see he prefers you to his three legitimate children.”
“You want me to say I do not want the throne.”
“I am not alone in this wish. We must settle the affairs of the kingdom before worse catastrophes befall us because the king and his court are not united.”
Sanglant turned his back on Wolfhere and leaned even farther out over the parapet, as if to catch sight of the distant Eika camp or to reach out and grasp the stars in his hands. But he did not look likely to fall. “I refuse, as I always have and as I always mean to do. You must speak to the king on this matter. I am only the King’s Dragon, his obedient son and servant. As I always have been.”
“That is your only answer?”
“That is my only answer.”
Wolfhere bent slightly at the waist, although Sanglant could not see the gesture. “Then I will leave you to your meditations.” If he was vexed, he did not show it in his posture or his tone.
“When do you leave?” asked Sanglant.
“My comrade Hathui even now rides to King Henry with news of the siege. We will abide here a while to see what happens, and to see if I can search out this intelligence among the Eika you speak of.”