Covenants by Freeman Lorna

Author:Freeman, Lorna [Freeman, Lorna]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Science Fiction, General, Fantasy, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780451459800
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2004-05-04T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-three

“I own many warehouses, Your Majesty,” Lord Maceal ibn Chause said. “I may have leased one to Lord Gherat in the past year. I’d have to have my agent check my records.”

By King Jusson’s orders, Lord Commander Thadro and Captain Suiden went with a mixture of guards and troops to Losan’s warehouse, as Laurel Faena advised that the contraband be left there until he had a chance to go. The king also sent his Own to invite Lord Chause to the palace for a friendly chat, and my uncle had strolled in, the epitome of an aristocrat as he looked me with slight disdain, as though I was just too boring for him to feel anything more.

The sun was casting long shadows outside the windows of the receiving chamber, and soon it would be time to go to Trooper Basel’s funeral. Lord Chause lounged in his chair, casting a world-weary gaze over Lord Esclaur and Captain Javes. He then looked back at King Jusson. “May I ask, Your Majesty, the nature of the charges against Gherat?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, what about Teram?” My uncle looked at me. “Tell me, Rabbit, did your cousin really try to lead a revolt wearing a Locival costume?”

I frowned at his pointing out my relationship with Flavan but Jusson spoke before I could. “Nor have I asked you here to discuss Teram ibn Flavan.”

Lord Chause smiled faintly. “I beg pardon, sire.”

King Jusson watched my uncle for a moment. “Do you know how close we stand to war, Maceal?”

“I thought you took care of that, Your Majesty.”

“No, not with the House of Flavan. With the Borderlands.”

“I’ve heard the nonsense about the spritewood and dragon skin, sire.” My uncle’s lip curled even more.

“It’s not nonsense, Maceal,” Jusson said.

“I again beg pardon, Your Majesty,” Lord Chause said. “But I haven’t been impressed with the, ah, Borderers they have sent to us.” He sneered at me. “A clodhopping farm boy and a performing animal.”

“The Border War was also unimpressive?” Lord Esclaur asked.

“A children’s tale, Esclaur,” Lord Chause said. “Fighting trees and chanting fairies? More nonsense.”

“So full of nonsense, Maceal,” Jusson said, “that we sued for peace and considered ourselves very fortunate that we received it.”

Lord Chause opened his mouth.

“I have read the firsthand accounts of the battle,” Jusson said, cutting my uncle off. He leaned forward in his chair. “Just one battle, Maceal. No others, not even an exchange of insults. Iversterre received the drubbing of its kingdom life.” The king’s eyes glittered. “It’s not just a children’s pantomime.” A line appeared between my uncle’s gray-shot brows, spoiling his sneer.

“I’ve also read the letters between my great-grandfather the king and the ‘fairies.’ And the resulting treaties.” King Jusson’s eyes glittered more. “Do you know why we have such a strong garrison at Veldecke?”

“I assumed to keep out the mad and the malcontents from the Border,” Lord Chause said, still trying to sneer over a frown forming on his face.

“Oh, come now, Maceal,” Esclaur said. “Think. Why would we need such

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