Prince of the Blood (14 page)

Locklear stood beside him, similarly attired, though his clothes were even more richly fashioned in russet and gold hues. He glanced about, convinced these new fashions appeared ridiculous, but no one seemed to notice. All eyes were upon the bride.

Gamina wore a simple gown of lavender color, set off with an extraordinary string of pearls around her neck. The gown was cinched at the waist by a wide belt studded by matching pearls and a silver buckle. A garland of flowers circled her brow, the traditional “bride’s crown.”

“Now, then,” Marias said, his voice betraying the rich,
almost lyrical accent of one who was born along the south coast of the Kingdom Sea, near Pointer’s Head, “seeing as you’ve come before me with the stated intention of marriage, I’ve a few things to tell you.” He motioned for James to take Gamina’s right hand in his and he placed his own pudgy hand over theirs. “Killian, the Goddess I serve, looked down upon man and woman when they were created by Ishap, the One Above All, and saw them apart. Man and woman looked heavenward and cried out in their loneliness. Hearing them and pitying them, the Goddess of Green Silence spoke, saying, ‘You shall not abide apart.’ She then created the institution of marriage as a bond to bring man and woman together. It is the melding of souls, minds, and hearts. It is when two become as one. Do you understand?” He looked each in the eye and in turn Gamina and James nodded.

To the assembled crowd, Marias said, “James of Krondor, Earl of the Prince’s Court and Gamina, daughter of Duke Pug and Duchess Katala, have come to this place and company to pledge themselves one to the other, and we are to bear witness to that pledge. If there is any here among you who knows why this should not be, speak now or go forever in silence.” If there was to be any objection, Marias didn’t wait to hear it. Plunging on, he said, “James and Gamina, understand that from this moment forward, each of you is now a part of the other. No longer separate, you are now as one.

“James, this woman seeks to spend her life with you. Do you take her to you as mate and wife, without reservation and knowing that she is now one with you, holding her to you, and putting away any other, from now until death?”

James nodded, as he said, “I do.”

With a wave, Marias motioned for Locklear to hand James a golden ring. “Put that upon your bride’s hand.”
James did as he was asked, placing the ring upon the ring finger of Gamina’s left hand.

“Gamina, this man seeks to spend his life with you. Do you take him to you as mate and husband, without reservation and knowing that he is now one with you, holding him to you, and putting away any other, from now until death?”

Gamina smiled and answered, “I do.”

Marias instructed Gamina to place a ring upon James’s hand, and she did so.

“Inasmuch as James and Gamina have agreed to live as one, in the sight of gods and men, we do hereby bear witness.”

The assembled company of guests repeated, “So do we bear witness.”

With a grin, the ruddy-cheeked priest said, “Well, that’s it, then. You’re married.”

James glanced around. “That’s all?”

Marias laughed. “We keep it simple in the country, my lord. Now, kiss your wife, and let’s get on with the feast.”

James laughed, grabbed Gamina, and kissed her. The crowd cheered and hats were thrown in the air.

At the edge of the crowd two men did not cheer as they observed the celebration. An angular, thin man with three days’ growth of unshaven beard took the other by the elbow and led him a discreet distance away. Both were wearing clothing best described as ragged and torn, and both would have warranted a wide berth by anyone with an acute sense of smell. Glancing around to see they were not overheard, the first man said, “Earl James of Krondor. Baron Locklear. That means those two red-haired fighting lads are Arutha’s sons.”

The second man, stout and short, yet powerful in the shoulders, was obviously impressed at his companion’s
keen observation. His cherubic face appeared almost innocent as he said, “Don’t see many Princes in these parts, ’s true, Lafe.”

“You’re a fool, Reese,” answered the other in a gravelly voice. “There are those who would pay well to know this. Get to the Inn of the Twelve Chairs at the desert’s edge—they are almost certain to ride that route. You know who to ask for. Tell our Keshian friends that the Princes of Krondor and their company ride from Stardock, and travel not in state but in stealth. Their numbers are small. And wait there for me at the inn. And don’t drink up all the money he’ll give you or I’ll cut your liver out!”

Reese looked at his companion as if such duplicity was unthinkable.

Lafe continued, “I’ll follow after them that’s here and if they change route, I’ll send word. They’re surely carrying gold and gifts to the Empress for her birthday. With no more than twenty men at arms, we can be rich for life once the bandits cut their throats and give us our share.”

Glancing around the deserted shore, the man named Reese said, “How can I get there, Lafe? The ferryman’s at the wedding.”

Hissing through teeth black with decay, the taller man said, “Steal a boat, stupid.”

A glimmer of delight at the obvious answer shone in Reese’s eyes. “Good. I’ll get some food, then—”

“You’ll go now!” ordered his companion, pushing him off to an uneasy trot toward the shore and the unguarded boats. “You can steal something in the town. With everyone dining here, that should be easy enough. But a few still linger, so be cautious.” Reese turned and waved, then scampered along the shore, looking for a boat small enough to manage alone.

Snorting in derision, the man called Lafe turned back toward the feasting. His hunger told him that Reese’s
suggestion wasn’t all that bad, but his avarice made him alert to the every move of the wedding party.

The two Princes sat quietly at the dinner table, oblivious to the joy of the newlyweds. Each was intent on their own impatience to be on their way. James had been uncommunicative about when they were leaving, though Locklear had mentioned their stay wouldn’t be extended too long, despite the unexpected events of the last two days.

If the twins had been surprised by their mentor’s sudden encounter with love, they were equally unsurprised by the hasty permission from their father and the quick wedding. Little in their lives had allowed them to take anything for granted.

The twins lived in a world of the unexpected, where the tranquillity of the moment could be shattered at any time by disaster. Warfare, natural cataclysm, famine, and disease were constant threats, and they lived most of their young lives in the heart of the palace, where they had observed their father dealing with such problems on a daily basis. From the most important border clash with Kesh to deciding if one guild or another had jurisdiction over a new trade, their father had dealt with problem after problem.

But as they had when watching their father, their present mood didn’t reflect the excitement of the moment. Rather they were bored.

Borric drank deep of a simple ale and said, “Is this the best they have?”

Erland nodded. “I expect so. From what I can see, ale isn’t a major concern around here. Let us see if there’s something better in the village.” The brothers stood up from the bench, bowed slightly at the Earl and his new countess, who nodded briefly in return at the Princes’ leaving the table of honor.

As they passed by the other tables set up around the square, Borric asked, “Where are you heading?”

Erland said, “I don’t know. Around. There must be some fishermen’s daughters among all these people. I see a few pretty faces here and there. Every one of them can’t be married,” he added, attempting a light tone.

Borric’s mood seemed to darken rather than improve. “What I really wish is to be quit of this nest of spellcasters and on our way.”

Erland put his hand upon his brother’s shoulder as they walked and agreed in silence. With the steady lectures they had been getting about responsibility, they felt hemmed in and controlled, and both Princes were eager for anything that resembled movement, change, and the possibility of adventure. Life was just a bit too quiet for their liking.

T
HE GUARDS LAUGHED
.

James turned to see what caused their mirth and saw the two Princes approaching. Erland was wearing an improbable-looking coat of heavy chain, weighing at least five times what his usual leather armor weighed, and a bright red cloak tossed rakishly over his shoulder. But the laughter was primarily directed at his brother, who wore a robe that covered him from head to toe. It was a repulsive shade of purple with arcane symbols sewn in gold thread around the hood and sleeves. No doubt once the stunning centerpiece of some magician’s wardrobe, it had clearly seen better days. An odd looking wooden staff with a milky white glass ball mounted atop it hung in place of the usual sword at his side. On Kulgan or one of the Keshian magicians the robe would have seemed appropriate; on Borric the effect was entirely comic.

Locklear joined in the laughter as he came to James’s side. “What are they made up for?”

James sighed. “I have no idea.” To the Princes he said, “What is this, then?”

Erland grinned. “We found a game of pokiir—here they call it poker. Our luck was … uneven.”

James shrugged, absently wondering how long Gamina
would keep him waiting. His bride was in her quarters, gathering the last of what she would bring with her to Kesh. The rest of her belongings would be sent to the palace in Krondor, in anticipation of her return there after the Empress’s Birthday Jubilee.

Borric said, “I lost my cloak to a barge-man, and my sword to a fellow who most likely sold it for a bottle of wine. But then I found a magician who believed a little too much in luck and not enough in good card sense. Look at this.”

James cast a glance at the elder of the twins and saw him holding out the odd-looking staff. “All right. What is it?”

Borric took the staff out of its sheath and gave it to James to examine. “It’s a magic device. The crystal glows when it gets dark, so you needn’t bother with lamps or torches. We saw it work last night. It’s quite good.”

James nodded as if to say that was nice. “What else does it do?”

“Nothing, except it’s a rather nice-looking walking stick, I think,” answered Erland. To his brother, he added, “But I wager you’ll wish you had your sword back if someone comes running at you with a bloody great falchion in his hand.”

“I expect,” agreed Locklear.

“Well, I’ll buy another sword when we reach civilization,” said Borric.

James sighed. “And some new clothing. Those outfits look absurd.”

Locklear laughed. “You want to see absurd?” To Borric he said, “Show him the boots.”

Grinning, Borric pulled up the hem of his robe, and James shook his head in astonishment. Borric wore boots of red leather, rising to mid-calf, each adorned with a yellow eagle. “I won these as well.”

“I think the previous owner was pleased to see the losing hand when those were wagered,” James said. “You look like you’re about to open a traveling carnival. Hide those, if you please. The colors are beyond belief.” To Erland he added, “And you look like you’re about to invade Kesh single-handed. I haven’t seen chain like that since the battle of Sethanon.”

Locklear who, like James, wore a simple tunic and a leather vest, said, “You’re going to love that chain when we reach the edge of the desert.”

Erland’s retort was interrupted by the appearance of Gamina and her parents. Pug held Katala’s arm and it was now clear to James that she was indeed ill. Whether it was due to the demands of her daughter’s wedding the day before or her realization that now her children no longer needed her or the illness asserting itself, James could not know. But it was clear to anyone with eyes that Katala’s life was numbered now in weeks at the most.

They came to where James waited, and Katala spoke to her son-in-law in quiet tones. “This is good-bye, James.”

James could only nod. Katala’s people were warriors and proud and always direct. So Pug had impressed on him and so she behaved. “You will be missed,” he said at last.