The White Robe (29 page)

Allowyn pulled a black silk bag from inside his jerkin and handed it to Jonderill who took the torc out and studied it for a moment before sliding it back into the bag.

“I thought I’d seen the last of this. Where did you get it?”

“Gellidan had it. As long as it was somewhere in the Enclave, Razarin would have been able to find it no matter where you had hidden it. I suspect Razarin gave it to Gellidan to deliver to Vorgret, probably along with you if he was certain of your magic, and if not, it would have been some form of compensation. Gellidan was so certain of victory that he didn’t bother to hide it before he fought Tissian. Anyway, it’s yours now and you should keep it safe.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“And now,” said Allowyn rising from his seat. “We have things to do which cannot wait. I must seek the forgiveness of my goddess through my devotions, and do whatever penance she requires of me.”

“I hope she’ll not be too hard on you,” said Jonderill with genuine concern.

“Oh, she will be but not as hard as I’m going to be on you. As soon as Tissian is able to ride we’ll leave for Vinmore and you will leave your past life behind. The journey is not long, so you’ll have only a short time to learn to be everything that is expected of a white robe, and I will do my best to teach you. Only by demonstrating what you are, will you be beyond the reach of Queen Daun and her consort.”  

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Envoys

Tarraquin laughed loudly and somewhat nervously and then read the missive again. When she had finished reading the scroll for a second time she put it down on the table by her side and stared at Lord Istan.

“Is he serious? Does he really mean this or is it some sort of jest?”

If it were a joke Lord Istan didn’t appear to find it a funny one. He looked dusty, tired and dispirited. Considering he had ridden back from Essenland in under a moon’s turning that wasn’t surprising. The queen looked up at her councillors sitting around the table and wished that Malingar or Jarrul had returned from their separate missions as envoys. Her councillors were worthy men, chosen by the minor lords and guilds of Leersland, but they would always put their own interests first, Leersland’s second and their queen’s a long way third. Despite this she was duty bound to ask their opinion.

“My lords, revered guildmasters, gentlemen, we have a reply to our overtures of friendship from King Vorgret of Essenland. I will not trouble you with the intricacies of the language; suffice to say that Great Lord Andron has also sent an envoy to Essenland to seek Vorgret’s support.” There were murmurs of concern and disapproval around the table. “However, Essenland’s king, whilst being impressed with Andron’s cause has made me an offer. In return for his support and his soldiers to put down any insurrection, he has offered to take me as his wife, so that when our first son reaches the age of majority the kingdoms may be joined as one.”

For a moment there was a stunned silence and then everyone spoke at once. Tarraquin let the noise run on for a short time until voices started to be raised in argument, and then she rapped the hilt of the knife she kept at her side hard down on the table. It wasn’t the first time that arguments had broken out in council meetings, but her councillors had learnt very quickly that their queen was not averse to using the knife’s blade as well as its hilt if it became necessary.

“Gentlemen, before we debate what is to be done for the best, I think it would be advisable if Lord Istan told us what sort of a man this King Vorgret is, and if, by joining with Essenland, Leersland and its people would benefit. That is, of course, unless any of you have more up to date information about Essenland and its ruler than our newly returned envoy.”

There were a few mutterings as there usually were, but the councillors turned their attention to Lord Istan who had taken Jarrul’s vacant seat at the table.

“Your Majesty, honoured councillors, my knowledge of Essenland and its people is limited to the areas through which I rode, and my impressions of King Vorgret are based on just two brief audiences and what his subjects say about him, but I will report as best as I can. Essenland is split roughly in two. The north is mountainous and, whilst I didn’t travel there, I understand that silver is mined in the hills and the population is sparse. The south is rural and large areas of land are put aside for growing foodstuffs, particularly wheat and barley. Many of the fields stood empty and neglected, although I am not sure if they were being left fallow or if there were insufficient people to tend them.

I passed many small villages full of the very young, the very old and women. When I stopped, there was plenty of simple food and good ale to be had, but no conversation or laughter. On my way to Vorglave I saw two recently burnt estate houses and the nearby villages both had dead hanging in the square. There was a line of wagons going to one of their silver mines and I saw slaves being taken there in chains. I also passed numerous field camps, as if Essenland is preparing for war. Unfortunately I saw only a little of the main city, as I was escorted throughout my visit there and kept under guard in the palace.”

“This cannot be so,” interrupted the metal guild’s representative. “We know that they employ felons and vagrants to mine silver but we have always received assurances that they were paid a living and were well cared for.”

“I am certain that King Porteous would never have allowed any of his people to be abused,” put in the guildmaster from the brewer and vintners guild.

“That may have been so in the past,” said Tarraquin, “but Vorgret is king now. Lord Istan, please continue.”

“The palace is large and well guarded and the rooms I saw were richly decorated. I was given comfortable accommodation and was treated with respect at all times, but I was never left unguarded; even at night two guards stood outside my door. On both occasions the king received me in his throne room, which was impressive, but only on the first occasion was his magician present.”

“A magician?” interrupted Tarraquin. “The king has a magician?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, a black robe. He was quite young and seemed a bit uncertain of himself.”

“Damn! I thought we had seen the last of them when Sarrat’s bastard died.” For a moment there was silence in the room as the councillors considered the implications. “Please continue.”

“There is not much more to tell, Your Majesty. I gave the king your missive which he read and passed to his magician. I was then dismissed and was returned to my rooms until I was summoned the following day. Vorgret asked me a few personal questions about you and then handed me that scroll. After that I was escorted to the border in all haste, and rather than go on to Vinmore, I returned here.”

“Thank you, Lord Istan. Gentlemen, are there any further questions you wish to ask our envoy? If not, I think we should retire and consider what has been said before any decisions are made.”

“Lord Istan, did it seem to you that there were excess supplies of goods in Essenland which could form the basis of a trade agreement?”

“Yes, Guildmaster Jobes, I passed storehouses full of both cloth and grain and was told that the silver mines are producing more ore than ever.”

“And did they look to be in need of horses and leather ware?”

“I would say so, Lord Horseman. As I said, they appeared to be preparing for a war, and horses and armour are always needed for such an enterprise.”

There was an excited mumble of voices about trading possibilities which Tarraquin allowed to go on until one or two voices began to rise above the others. “Gentlemen of the council, as there are no further questions for Lord Istan, we will adjourn. I will call you when I have had time to consider this offer.”

There was a general scraping of chairs against the stone floor as the councillors stood, bowed briefly and filed out of the room. Tarraquin could hear the arguments trailing off down the corridor with them, until the guard closed the sturdy wooden doors and blocked off the noise. “Now Istan, please tell me what it is that you are holding back, and didn’t want to tell the others.”

“You are perceptive, Your Majesty. There are other things I could have said but didn’t, mainly because they are feelings based on what I heard rather than on things I saw. Vorgret oppresses his people; he taxes them to the point of rebellion and then kills or enslaves those who object. He’s taken all the young men for his army and people say that he brutalises them. I’ve heard that many die in the process of changing from a farmer to a soldier. He’s also disposed of all the councillors and military leaders who supported Porteous, and has replaced them with what the people call thugs; mostly felons who he has taken from the mines. There is also a rumour that he has killed his own father who hasn’t been seen since Vorgret became king.”

“I see. So when you say Essenland prepares for war, what you really mean is that Vorgret prepares for conquest.”

“It would seem so, Your Majesty, and bloody conquest at that.”

The queen was quiet for a moment whilst she thought about what Istan had told her. “You said that Vorgret asked some personal questions about me. What did he ask?”

“He asked about your accession to the throne and how it was achieved. He also asked about your hold on the kingdom and how you would deal with any who opposed you. I told him your hold on Leersland was firm and that you would deal decisively with any opposition to your rule.”

Tarraquin nodded. “What else did he ask?”

“There was nothing else, Your Majesty.”

“Come, you are blushing, what else did he want to know?”

“He enquired about your appearance and whether you were a virgin.”

“Did he now? I expect it wasn’t in those terms though.”

“No, Your Majesty.”

Tarraquin laughed. “At least that leaves me free to ask the same question. Well, what does he look like?”

“He’s not very tall but he is muscular with striking features, only slightly marred by the scar across his face.”

“I see, and his sexual habits?”

“Frequent, although most of the women are willing.”

“Not the ideal husband then?”

“No, Your Majesty, but powerful and avaricious with his eyes on Leersland.”

“Thank you, Lord Istan, you have done well. Now go and rest and I will think about what you have said and Vorgret’s kind offer.”

She watched Istan leave and then poured herself a goblet of wine and returned to the table. What she needed now was good counsel. She wondered where Malingar and Jarrul were and when they would return.

*

“This wasn’t quite what I expected,” said King Borman as he looked across the space to where the young captain stood. “I distinctly gave the order that you should aid King Sarrat against the rebels to get in his good books and then stay with him until I was ready to move. And what do I get? Sarrat and his black robe dead and the rightful queen on the throne. Not only that but all her people cheering the accession and supporting her. It had been my intention to ride into Leersland as a saviour, rescuing the people from a despicable tyrant. Now, when I ride into Leersland, it’s me who is going to be seen as the tyrant. Well, Malingar, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry if I have displeased Your Majesty, that was not my intention, but King Sarrat’s death was unexpected and I had no time to seek new orders, so I did what I thought was best under the circumstances.”

“How in hellden’s name did Sarrat die without any bastard knowing about it?”

“It happened in a remote place outside the black magician’s tower where nobody goes unless they have to. His army in the south must have thought he’d ridden north and the court thought he was still in the south. It was only when Great Lord Andron produced his head that we found out that he was dead. The situation changed in a moment and I needed to make a decision which side to support. You had ordered me to ingratiate myself with Sarrat and as the Queen had taken his place I thought it was best to side with her. I needed to make myself invaluable to the new queen, which I have done. I’m now one of her most trusted councillors.”

“So you are. Trusted enough to be a royal envoy, but should I trust you, Malingar? That is the question.”

“I am sworn to you, Your Majesty, by the vow I took and the lives of my family which you hold so close. I’ve done what I could in the changing circumstances. I even kept the Lady Tarraquin safe during the uprising as you commanded.”

“Ah yes, the Lady Tarraquin. Tell me about her. Is she as beautiful as I’ve heard?”

Malingar relaxed slightly, sensing that the worst was over. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, Your Majesty, but I am sure whatever others have said it doesn’t do the lady justice. She has a rare beauty, like that of a fine stallion. She is full of life and energy and determination. Yet she can be unsure and in need of a man to guide her. The lady has a physical attraction which draws others to her, and a nature which holds them there, like spiders hold flies trapped in a web.”