Shards of a Broken Crown

Pug said, “Well, if you consider us to be Thuril, but with more swords, you might consider the needs we face.”

Kalari nodded. Thuril had been the only nation to resist his empire on the homeworld, and had forced the Empire to a guarded peace. “Well, since the Servant of the Empire overturned so many of the Assembly’s prerogatives, we’ve had to constantly relearn things. I think endless babble around a table to no point, though, may be a difficult process to master.”

Nakor laughed. “Actually, it’s really easy. That’s why diplomats do it so much.”

Kalari regarded the strange fellow. Nakor had been given his seat at the negotiations by Pug. Known as Milamber on the Tsurani homeworld, Pug was a figure of legend, almost as awe-inspiring as the Lady Mara. That fact alone had blunted some of the Tsurani Great One’s astonishment at Nakor being included in these sessions. To all outward appearances, the self-styled “High Priest” of some unknown order was nothing more than a ragged vagabond, perhaps a confidence trickster who played the fool. Yet there was something about the odd little man that made Kalari cautious of judging him too quickly. Behind his constant irreverent humor an intellect of great scope was at work, and every fiber of Kalari’s being told him a man of great magical ability also wore the guise of a common gambler recently turned man of religion. He might claim powers that came from the Gods, or merely “tricks” as he often commented, but Kalari sensed this was a being of power second only to Pug’s at the table.

Kalari put aside his nagging suspicions about Nakor. Whatever else, he did find the man from the nation of Isalan in Great Kesh amusing and amiable. “Well, then,” said the magician, “you’ll have to brief me on how best to proceed with this pointless wrangling.”

Nakor said, “Find someone else. I think them just as tedious as you do.” Nakor took a sip of ale. “Besides, the matter of how things end up has already been decided.”

“Really?” said Pug. “Care to share with us your reasoning?”

Nakor grinned, as he always did when about to share the gift of his perceptions and insights with the others. “It’s easy.” He pointed around the room. “You could figure this out, too, if you tried.” Miranda exchanged wry smiles with her husband. Nakor continued, “The Kingdom was hurt, but not fatally. Kesh knows this. They have spies. They know that while the King wants troops back in the East, it’s not because there’s any real trouble there. If Kesh makes trouble, the King orders the Prince to keep the soldiers. And if Kesh waits until the Armies of the East leave, that gives Patrick more time to dig in, get ready, and deal with any Keshian adventures.”

Nakor shook his head. “No, Kesh knows that they lost what the Kingdom gave them when they tried to press their advantage. They know the best they can do is maybe some trade concession or another, but they’ll never get back what they were granted for protecting the Kingdom’s southern flank.” He glanced from face to face. “They’re trying to figure out how to admit publicly they were stupid without admitting they were stupid.”

Kalari laughed. Even the usually taciturn Kalied was forced to smile. Pug said, “So it’s a matter of honor?”

Nakor shrugged. “More a matter of avoiding punishment back home. Generals Rufi ibn Salamon and Behan Solan have much explaining to do to their Emperor when they return to the City of Kesh. They’ve got to be given a really good story to explain how they lost by getting greedy what they had gained by the Emperor being generous. You know they had no authority from Kesh to try to grab all of the vale, don’t you?”

Pug fixed Nakor with a narrow gaze. “And how do you know that?” asked Pug.

Nakor said, “I move around. I listen to things. Generals may keep their mouths shut, but soldiers talk. Soldiers serve in the General’s tent, then they talk to traders and camp girls, and the traders and camp girls talk to wagon drivers, and pretty soon everyone knows what the General’s doing.

“Kesh doesn’t want a war, even if the Kingdom is weak. They’ve never fully pacified the southern nations below the Girdle of Kesh. The Keshian Confederacy would rise up again at any excuse, and your King knows this. So, the Empire doesn’t want war, and the Kingdom doesn’t want another war – they’re busy with the one they have now – and we all sit around while the outcome is already known.”

“Save one thing,” said Pug.

Nakor said, “Stardock.”

Kalied said, “That matter is settled.”

Pug shrugged. “I know it is. I told Nakor to make whatever deal necessary to get you to help save the Kingdom; the threat of you acting against Kesh if they turned aggressor tipped the balance in our favor. But there’s still the matter of explaining to the King how I managed to give away one of his duchies.”

Kalied said, “I am dining with the members of the council. As Robert de Lyes has decided to continue serving in Darkmoor with the Prince, we need to replace him on the council.” He rose and said, “But keep in mind, Pug, despite your legendary power and our abiding respect for what you founded here, Stardock is no longer your personal fiefdom. We have Nakor’s pledge that you would honor the arrangements he made to gain the Kingdom our aid. The council now governs, not on your behalf while you’re off somewhere, but on behalf of all those who reside here. You are entitled to no more or less a voice than any other member of the Academy.”

Pug was silent for a moment, then said, “Very well. I will honor that pledge and insure the Kingdom acknowledges your autonomy.”

“Autonomy?” said Kalied. “That’s an interesting choice of words. We prefer to think of it as independence.”

Nakor waved away the remark. “Don’t be stupid. Pug can convince the King to let you govern yourself, but don’t expect him to make the King accept the proposition of an independent entity located entirely within the boundaries of the Kingdom. Besides, while you protect the Kingdom from Kesh, the Kingdom also protects you from Kesh. Do you think for a moment the Emperor would be as generous?”

Kalied said nothing for a long moment, then said, “Very well. I will present this to the council, and I am sure they will choose not to be ‘stupid’ in this matter.” With a dark look directed at Nakor, he bowed to the others in the room and departed.

Kalari turned to Nakor and said, “I assume your earlier comments on diplomacy are more in the theoretical area rather than from practice?”

Miranda laughed. Pug joined in. “Well, I still have a lot to explain to the Prince, and I think there’s no putting that off. I suspect that Patrick will be even less enchanted with the idea of an autonomous Stardock within his borders than Kalied.”

Miranda said, “We go to Darkmoor?”

Pug nodded. “Nakor?”

Nakor nodded. “I’m done here. The Blue Riders are again ensconced among the students, to make sure magicians who train here don’t get too stuffy. Besides, I need to spend some time with Dominic and some of the other Ishapians who have ended up next to the Prince. Let me fetch Sho Pi, and we’ll all go together.”

He left, and Kalari said, “Pug, a question.”

Pug turned to regard the Tsurani Great One.

“Since coming to Stardock on behalf of the Emperor, I’ve pieced together a view of how things stood here. I’m curious as to why you, yourself, didn’t come to the Assembly and seek our aid in dealing with the threats from this Emerald Queen.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not sure what fully transpired here, but I get the strong impression that a great deal more was at stake than most people understand.”

Miranda and Pug exchanged glances, and Pug said, “Yes, but I am not free to share details.

“As for why we didn’t seek Tsurani aid, our relationships with the Empire have never been the same since Makala.”

Kalari said, “Ah,” and nodded in understanding. A Tsurani Great One, Makala had come to the Prince of Krondor’s court years before, ostensibly to act as a liaison between the Assembly on Kelewan and the Prince, but in fact had come as a self-appointed spy determined to discover the secret of what truly happened at Sethanon at the end of the Riftwar.

He had been motivated by loyalty to the Empire and the fear of some Kingdom plot or weapon of great power, and had actually discovered the secret of the Lifestone. Through agents who chanced upon one another near Sethanon, he had become a party to a conspiracy involving the Brotherhood of the Dark Path. Only the intervention of a renegade moredhel chieftain had prevented a major catastrophe.

Makala and four of his allies from the Tsurani homeworld had ensorceled the great dragon oracle that lived below the city of Sethanon, and were on the verge of unlocking the Lifestone when Pug and his companions had arrived. That secret had died with Makala and his four companions, deep in the chamber below the city. His betrayal of the trust given him had strained relationships between the Kingdom and Empire for a decade. Only members of the Assembly on Kelewan and a few trusted advisors to the Prince of Krondor knew of the incident; it served as a cautionary tale on both sides of the rift. Since then, all business between the Empire of Tsuranuanni and the Kingdom of the Isles had been conducted in the most formal, cautious of fashions. More than once it had been suggested that the rift between the worlds be permanently closed, yet trading between them continued. But it was now limited to the one rift located on Stardock, hence the Empire’s presence at these negotiations. They were anxious that this one passage between the worlds be kept open.

“Yet,” said Kalari, “it seemed prudent to you to request our help in that display of might we arranged for the Keshians?”

Pug shook his head and shrugged. “Nakor.”

Kalari returned the smile. “He is the most unusual fellow.”

Pug agreed.

Miranda said, “What will you tell Patrick?”

Pug let out a long, tired sigh. “Many things; none of which he will enjoy hearing.”

Prince Patrick appeared on the verge of rage. His normally light complexion reddened and his voice rose. “Autonomous? What is that supposed to mean?” he shouted.

Pug sighed. Unlike his predecessor, Prince Arutha, Patrick lacked vision. Pug reminded himself that in most ways the Prince was a young man, and unlike Prince Arutha, who had leadership thrust upon him, a young man untempered in the cauldron of war. While his city had been destroyed, Patrick had been safe in the East, at the King’s insistence. Pug suspected much of Patrick’s ill humor came from frustration and his inability to do other than his father’s bidding.

With even tones, Pug said, “The magicians at Stardock require—”

“Require!” shouted Patrick. “They require?” He stood up from his throne, formerly the state chair of the Baron of Darkmoor, and took a step down to stand directly before Pug. “Let me tell you what their King requires. He requires their unswerving loyalty and obedience!”

Pug looked at his grandson, the Duke Arutha, who gave his head a slight shake, indicating there was little use in talking to the Prince when he was in a rage. Pug didn’t care. He was three times the Prince’s age and had seen more than most men did in a dozen lifetimes and he was tired. “Patrick,” he said evenly. “Sometimes you lose.”

“These are our citizens! They live within the borders of the Kingdom.”

Nakor, who had been silently standing to one side with his student, Sho Pi, said, “Only if the old borders are still there, Highness.”

Patrick’s head came around and he said, “Who gave you leave to talk, Keshian?”