Ironcrown Moon: Part Two of the Boreal Moon Tale. Julian May

Ironcrown Moon: Part Two of the Boreal Moon Tale - Julian  May


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and narrowly missed killing him probably following his master’s orders…

      Did the devious duke still want Snudge dead? Had Feribor assigned young Wil Baysdale to complete the job botched by Mero? The latter had failed because he coveted the sigil named Concealer, Snudge’s secret possession. Mero had been a greedy fool, and his vain attempt to seize the moonstone had brought about his own death.

      If Wil was newly cast in the role of assassin, there was almost nothing to be done about it – at least for the present.

      If I tell King Conrig my suspicions, Snudge thought, he won’t believe me. Even worse, he might mention my mistrust to Feribor – which could provoke the duke into taking immediate action against me. And what if Wil hasn’t been ordered to kill me at all? What if he’s under orders to report my activities to Feribor?

      Spying on the king’s spy!

      I must discuss this matter with Lord Stergos as soon as possible, Snudge decided. The Royal Alchymist had always been a sympathetic mentor to him. If anyone could overcome Conrig’s misjudgment of the Lord Treasurer, it was his beloved older brother…

      The cherry orchard was bounded by a wooden fence, which Snudge climbed, now painfully aware of an overfull bladder. Beyond was a strip of stony ground that ended at a bluff overlooking the River Blen and the broad valley leading to the sea and the sprawling city that had been renamed Cala Blenholme by the Sovereign. After relieving himself against a boulder, Snudge stood shading his still-bleary eyes against the blazing sun. A rampart of towering white clouds loomed on the southwestern horizon, no doubt the advance guard of a thunderstorm that was certain to disrupt the Solstice festivities in the capital. It was a moment before Snudge realized that a narrow pillar of jet-black smoke was also rising from the skyline.

      Rising from the exact location of Cala Palace.

      Lord Stergos! his mind screamed on the wind. What’s happened?

      There was no reply.

      

      Before knighthood was conferred on him, Snudge had been accustomed to conceal his secret activities by posing as one of the anonymous young armigers or footmen attached to the retinue of some trusted noble, who would be under royal orders to visit the place or person under investigation. The cooperating peer was of course aware that Snudge was the king’s spy; but he had no notion that the young agent possessed arcane abilities exceeding those of most Brothers of Zeth. In this situation, it had been relatively easy for Snudge to slip away from his fellow-retainers, perform his clandestine duties, and bespeak his findings directly to Lord Stergos, who would pass the information on to the High King.

      Once Snudge was dubbed Sir Deveron, however, a new arrangement became necessary. A Knight Banneret had far more authority and status than a mere squire or even an ordinary knight, and was potentially more useful to his royal master. But he was also more conspicuous. Snudge rated two armigers of his own, and soon would employ servants who would expect to attend him closely. In time, he could expect to command other knights and men-at-arms. His privacy was diminished, and he was bound to find it more difficult to exercise his wild talents secretly.

      Conrig did not intend for his intelligencer’s arcane gifts to become common knowledge, but neither did he wish to be constrained in his ability to stay in close contact with him. The solution was to assign a personal windvoice to Sir Deveron Austrey, who would act as official liaison between him and the throne.

      This was by no means an unusual privilege: many senior royal officers had ordained Brothers of Zeth in their retinues, and so did other important personages. Sir Deveron’s apprentice windvoice Vra-Mattis Temebrook was a more modest symbol of privilege, but he was bright, highly talented, and at eighteen years of age eager to escape the gimlet eye of the Palace Novicemaster. In time, if Mat proved loyal, Snudge thought he might consider sharing his great secret with him. But for now he intended to use the young Brother cautiously, and urge Lord Stergos to do the same

      Unless some evil thing had happened to the Royal Alchymist. Why hadn’t he responded to Snudge’s call? It was up to the apprentice windvoice to find out.

      

      Back at the cottage, Snudge found Gavlok and the others preparing to depart.

      Vra-Mattis held out a cup to him. ‘You still look unwell, sir. Drink down this hangover cure. It’ll do you a world of good.’

      Snudge quaffed the dose with a shudder. ‘More ails me than a thick head.’ He called the others to gather around him. ‘During my stroll I came upon a vantage point overlooking the Blen Valley and the distant capital. I regret to tell you that a great fire seems to be raging in the vicinity of the palace.’

      The armigers cried out horrified queries, but Snudge shook his head. ‘Be silent! Vra-Mattis, withdraw from us and attempt to bespeak Lord Stergos for information. If you can’t attract his attention, call upon his assistant, Vra-Sulkorig, or any other of the ranking Brethren who may be able to reply.’

      The novice wasted no time in speech. He moved behind the trunk of the big chestnut tree, seated himself on a root, and covered his head with the hood of his robe in order to concentrate.

      Snudge issued more orders. ‘Valdos, see if the goodwife has such a thing as a tall clothespole. We’re going to ride at speed from here on, with you bearing the royal banner, and we have no lance to tie it to…Wiltorig, unpack our mail shirts and helmets and lash them to the saddles where they may be easily donned if needed. Hanan, do the same for Sir Gavlok and yourself.’

      The armigers rushed to obey.

      Gavlok said, ‘We should be able to reach Cala in an hour. These horses I bought at Swallowmere may not be handsome, but they’re tough as flint. Is there aught that I can do?’

      Snudge replied in a low voice. ‘I may ask a great boon of you later. For now, only stand by me as a friend.’

      ‘With all my heart, Deveron. But I’m no great shakes in a fight, you know –’

      ‘Oh, sirs!’ cried Vra-Mattis, rising up from his tree root and calling out to the two knights. ‘A terrible calamity has occurred at the palace. There’s been an attempt to kill Lord Stergos! His apartment and the library have been almost completely demolished by several tarnblaze explosions and a great fire.’

      ‘Is he dead?’ asked Snudge.

      ‘Nay, sorely burned but expected to survive. I bespoke Vra-Sulkorig, who says that your speedy return is now more needful than ever. The Royal Alchymist demands to speak to you and will take no remedy for his pain lest it send him to sleep and prevent him from giving you a special command But he will tell no one what this command might be – not even the High King.’

      ‘I see.’ Whether it was Mat’s disgusting potion at work, or his own brain’s energy rising to the occasion, Snudge now felt clear-headed and revitalized. ‘Then the King’s Grace is unhurt?’

      ‘He and the rest of the royal family are safe. The fire is confined to the wing of the palace where the Zeth Brethren reside. Sadly, numbers of them have been killed or injured. You’re aware, of course, that the devilish substance tarnblaze cannot be put down by magical spells. The conflagration is being fought with water pumped from the river and the palace moat. It still burns strongly, and the roof-timbers are collapsing.’

      ‘Tell Vra-Sulkorig I’ll try to attend him and Lord Stergos inside of an hour. Bid him have the City Guard clear the West River Road approach so we won’t be delayed. By now, there must be panicky crowds as well as gawkers on the streets surrounding the palace.’

      Mattis nodded and covered his head again.

      ‘All is in readiness, Deveron,’ Gavlok announced, ‘whenever you wish to ride.’

      A few minutes later they were all in the saddle, galloping back onto the highroad with the squire Valdos leading the way, holding the crown banner of the Sovereignty and shouting, ‘Make way! Make way for the king’s men!’


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