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while careful to take only a few sips of wine himself.
He approached Lord Carvell; the man had financial interests in Bren and would
prove a useful ally in the months to come. Carvell was in deep conversation
with a nobleman from Annis. Fergil of Grallis was both cunning and wealthy.
He had a daughter of Kylock's age, by all accounts a sickly girl with eyes as
large as mushrooms. Baralis spoke to Fergil, but his words were intended for
Carvell: "Annis does well in keeping its distance from
Bren," he said. "Though I doubt if it would fare so well, if it decided to-
ally with the kingdoms. Bren well likes its position as the mightiest power in
the north and may balk at the joining of two of its rivals."
Baralis shrugged. "Of course, it might not lead to war. But if it did, the
first thing Bren would do would be to seize all foreign assets in the city."
There. That should be enough to put Carvell off listening to any proposals
Fergil might make regarding his daughter and Kylock. Carvell might like to
politic, but his financial interests would always come first.
Sure that his words had hit the mark, Baralis bowed graciously and moved on.
Fending off potential brides for Kylock was almost second nature to him. For
nearly twenty years now, countless dukes and lords had tried to marry their
daughters to the heir to the Four Kingdoms. Baralis counted it among his
greatest achievements that none had found their match. As king's chancellor he
was perfectly placed for diverting suitors away from the eyes and ears of the
court, and if politics didn't work, poison or sorcery always did.
He greeted Lady Helliarna with a kiss to her hand. The old dowager simpered
like a virgin. Besides the queen, she was the most powerful woman at court. As
her beauty faded, her determination grew, and she had more influence with
Arinalda than any other. She also had a son, an interesting boy, whose
ambitions equalled her own-they would both be careful to choose the winning
side if matters should come to a head.
Not that he had any intention of letting that happen. No, things would go
smoothly, but it never hurt to tilt the land in case of rain.
Lord and Lady Hibray acknowledged him with all the aloofness of
co-conspirators. It was partly due to them, many years before, that he was
made a lord. The good lady had a problem holding her babies till term. Six had
been born too soon-four of them sons. He'd helped her out, as only he could,
in return for introductions in high places and a bequeathal of one of their
many unused titles. It was a fair deal: they had three grown children now-two
daughters and a son. Baralis was sure he could rely on their support for his
choice of royal bride. If it wasn't given willingly, there was always
blackmail to tip the scales.
Lord Vernal had come from the front to attend the celebrations-the battle
would go worse for his absence. He was a sound military leader. Baralis made a
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point of raising his cup in the great man's direction. He might be a good
friend of Maybor's, but he had sons and, much like Helliarna, would do what
was necessary to secure their positions.
The two knights of Valdis were here. For five years they had traveled between
the courts at Harvell and
Helch, playing at peacemaking. Their efforts had waned over the past years,
and Baralis suspected it was the desire for information not peace that kept
them here. The knights were led by a dangerous fool.
Tyren was close with the duke of Bren, and he was doubtless using his knights'
presence in the kingdoms as a means to feed intelligence to the good duke. Let
the knights act as spies; the duke of Bren would hear nothing save reports of
stalemate about the war.
Baralis made a mental note to let Lord Vernal in on his suspicions about the
knights. It was to his advantage to have the court wary of Bren's interest in
the kingdoms. Fear of invasion had helped seal many an alliance.
Baralis managed to catch the eye of the queen and she gave him the most
imperceptible of nods. He in return smiled graciously. He could well afford to
be gracious; with Maybor and his daughter out of the way, the queen would soon
submit to his proposal. He would then be able to influence who Prince
Kylock would marry.
He scanned the room for Lord Maybor, but couldn't spot him at first, for the
hall was crowded with people. He eventually spied the portly lord. Maybor had
managed to surround himself with the pretty daughters of minor noblemen and
was currently flirting outrageously and generally making a fool of himself. He
was wearing the doctored robe. Baralis smiled, almost sadly. It would not be
long before
Maybor would begin to feel the sting of the poison at his throat. Maybor would
collapse before the night was over, and people would nod and say it was due to
immoderate drinking and a weak heart.
After a while, Baralis felt he'd had his fill of court pleasantries and he
decided he would retire to a less crowded part of the banquet hall. He made
his way to the back of the room where it was darker and there were few people
around-save a few couples who were too overcome with passion or drink to
notice his presence. It suited him well; he could watch the foibles of the
court and not become involved with them.
The assassin was listening hard in the concealed passageway. The evening
seemed to have reached the drunken fever pitch that was required for him to
perform his task successfully. For the last time he checked his blade, more
from habit than anxiety. And then, his face taut with concentration, he
stepped out.
The assassin crept from the passageway. The only occupants of the small
antechamber were an old man
and a young girl, who were both so embarrassed to be caught in such a
compromising position that they did not notice from whence the intruder came.
The old man was about to speak-probably some excuse.
Scarl drew a finger to his lips, halting any speech. He smiled understandingly
and encouraged the man to continue with a small gesture of his arm. The old
man, much relieved, returned to running his age-marked hands over the breasts
of his adolescent companion.
The assassin slipped into the banquet hall. He was momentarily dazzled by the
bright light and the noise.
He checked carefully to make sure no one was looking his way, then slunk up
against the wall. Feeling the brush of tapestries against his back, he made
for the deepest shadows. The lords and ladies appeared not to notice the
passage of his slight, unassuming figure against the dark recesses of the
wall.
As he drew near the back of the hall, the assassin spotted his mark. Lord
Baralis was there, dressed in fine, black robes, sipping from a golden cup and
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watching the revelry of the court with detachment.
Scarl reached the end of the room. Hanging from the ceiling was a huge satin
curtain which would provide cover until he was ready to make his move. With
practiced stealth, the assassin crept to the back wall, lifted the rich
curtain, and drew himself behind it. His body flat against the stone, he moved [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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